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Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

The first thing he feels when he opens his eyes is pain. He doesn’t know why he’s in pain, he’s drawing a blank on why his chest hurts so much. He knows he has a bad memory, but it was never this bad. 

He palms at the middle of his chest and rips away his robes, but finds no injury. 

He hisses when the pain spikes and he quickly squeezes his eyes shut to feel for a spiritual injury. He may not have a core but-

His eyes fly open, still unseeing because his attention is focused on the ball of spiritual energy that sits where his golden core should be. 

He has a core...

He has a core!

Wei Wuxian, who gave his core away to his brother, now has a core.

He knows he should be thrilled, giddy, happy beyond compare, but he’s in too much pain to celebrate, so , party later, find out why he’s in agony first.

His pain is in his chest, which means it must have something to do with why he suddenly has a core. He sends an inquiring tendril of spiritual energy ( he can use spiritual energy again! ) into his core and immediately finds the problem. 

His core is chock full of spiritual energy, too much spiritual energy. A normal core should feel like a warm little ball of light, but his core feels like he’s touching the surface of the sun, as if his core is too large for his body.

He now knows what the problem is, but solving the problem… he has no idea how to even start.

What do you do when your core is too big for your body?

Nothing he was ever taught even remotely touches on anything near this. 

He could expend the excess energy… but with the amount of energy he would have to expend, he would probably burn his meridians to a crisp and level anything in a hundred foot radius. 

He feels energy gather at his fingers, and starts to panic. He needs to come up with something quick, or his energy might lash out, with or without his permission. 

Expend, split, hide, seal…

Seal!

He recalls a seal he once used on Wen Ning. It was meant to seal his resentful energy in three stages, hence why he decided to call it the Tri-seal. 

His robes are already ripped open, so he quickly bites his thumb to use his blood to write the seal. At the last moment, he pauses.

The seal was never meant for spiritual energy and in the first place, the seal was used on a corpse and not a living human! He has no idea if using the seal will fry his meridians or cut off his spiritual energy permanently. 

The pain spikes, a persistent stabbing and burning in his chest, and he decides to risk it. His blood paints his skin with expert skill and precision as the seal is drawn. Three concentric rings and drawn over his core, with characters for sealing inlaid in between the thick red rings. As each ring is finished, the pain lessens, and clarity gradually seeps back into his existence. 

As the last character is drawn, the pain cuts off completely, and he can’t help but just sit and bask in the feeling of being pain free. 

The next few seconds are spent waiting for whatever backlash the seal will have on its first live subject, but nothing happens. He breathes a sigh of relief. 

He looks down to study the new marks on his skin. The wet red of his blood has faded and dried, but even as he runs a finger over the lines, the seal holds, not even smudging. 

But…

Something doesn’t look right. He studies the seal, but no matter where he looks, he finds no imperfection or anything different from when he first invented it. Sure, a few of the strokes are different, since this is meant to seal a golden core and not a fierce corpse, but he knows that isn’t the issue. The first seal was also drawn in blood, so no difference there… He prods at the seal with a finger and that’s where he finds the problem.

His hand is tiny! And not just his hand! In fact, he looks like a child! He had joked about being three years old to get out of doing chores, but this is just taking it too far…

He looks up at his surroundings, and instead of finding the Wens, or his cave, he finds a dingy alley. An alley he recognizes, but should be long gone. In front of him is a dirty, half eaten steamed bun, a steamed bun he had stolen from a street food vendor when he was living on the streets as a kid.

He knows this isn’t a dream. There have been too many things refuting that fact already. Which means he is somehow-

A pained whimper draws his attention to the mouth of the alley. He instinctively flinches away, thinking it's a dog, but oh , how wrong that assumption is.

Instead of a snarling dog, he sees a kid about the same(?) age as him.

(If he’s on the streets again, he must be about six or seven, but he really is over 20… So is he six now? Or is he 20? Or somewhere in-between? Or maybe combined…) 

The boy’s white robes are dirtied from where he lays on the ground. He wears a ribbon the same white as his robes across his forehead. The outfit belongs to the Lans, but that begs the question of why a Lan child would be in a dirty alley in the backstreets of Yiling. 

The boy’s face is scrunched up in pain, little whimpers slipping past his pursed lips. He approaches the boy, calling out a tentative, “Hello?”

The boy’s eyes flutter open to meet Wei Wuxian’s silver ones, and he nearly trips as he finally recognizes who the boy is.

The boy’s golden eyes flutter closed once more as he whimpers out, “Wei… Ying-”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian immediately calls back as he crouches down near the boy, because no one else has golden eyes like that.

“My…” Lan Zhan croaks out.

Wei Wuxian shushes the other boy as he scans him for wounds. “Don’t talk, Lan Zhan. I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

“My core-” He says anyway, and Wei Wuxian flies into action, finally realizing the problem.

He sends a wisp of his spiritual energy through Lan Zhan, and sure enough, he seems to have the same problem Wei Wuxian was having earlier. But Lan Zhan’s core seems to be much worse. If Wei Wuxian’s core was like the sun, Lan Zhan’s is so powerful, that his own core seems like a rice grain in comparison to the power burning through Lan Zhan’s meridians. 

He rips open Lan Zhan’s robes and murmurs an apology as he sets to work, biting a fresh wound in his thumb to draw another Tri-seal onto Lan Zhan’s chest. 

The other boy gasps as the seal is finished, this time not in pain, but in relief. He takes a few seconds to breathe before gold meets silver, and Wei Wuxian is forced to answer Lan Zhan’s unspoken question. 

“It’s called a Tri-seal. I invented it for Wen Ning.” His six-year-old tongue stumbles over a few of the words, but Lan Zhan seems to understand well enough, so he continues. He points a finger to the largest circle of the seal. “The original seal was made specifically for sealing the resentful energy of fierce corpses. The first seal sealed away a portion of Wen Ning’s resentful energy to give him more clarity of mind and to keep him from being too powerful in case the burial mounds became too much.”

He sets a finger on the second circle. “The second sealed his physical prowess, making it easier for him to interact with the villagers and do tasks without accidentally using too much strength.”

He finally comes to the third and last circle. “The last seal sealed his natural killing intent, keeping him in control of himself and more mentally stable.”

Of course, that explanation doesn’t actually answer Lan Zhan’s question, so Wei Wuxian quickly adds, “It works differently on living humans with spiritual energy instead of resentful energy, though. The first seal seals the core completely, meaning we are just normal children with only latent spiritual energy and no actual golden core. The second seals a small portion of our cores, enough for when we first manifest cores, and the third seals the rest, for when we are old enough to handle it and actually need it. They can be undone by the caster, in this case me, starting with the biggest seal and advancing inwards. Each individual seal can also be redone without having to mess with the other seals, just in case it’s too much and we need to reseal it.”

Lan Zhan hums, showing he heard the explanation and finds it satisfactory. Lan Zhan slowly sits up and dusts off his robes. He looks around the alley before his gaze lands back on Wei Wuxian once more. “What happened?” He questions with his adorably high voice.

Wei Wuxian reigns in his urge to coo and pinch Lan Zhan’s chubby cheeks. “Like… with our cores…? Or why we’re kids again?” Lan Zhan nods to both questions. Wei Wuxian gives a sheepish laugh. “Wellllllllll… I don’t know.” He admits. The other boy frowns. “I actually don’t know!” He reaffirms. “You know my memory’s bad, so let’s start with you. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Lan Zhan’s face immediately darkens and his lips form a thin line. “...You first.” He finally whispers.

“Huh?”

“What do you remember?” Lan Zhan says a little louder. 

Wei Wuxian knows Lan Zhan is deflecting, but if it was really that bad, he won’t force the other boy to talk about it. “Well… I was…” He goes back to his most solid memory and works his way from there, and the horror grows the more he remembers. 

Wen Ning.

Wen Qing.

Nightless City.

Shijie .

The siege.

Jiang Cheng. His face twisted in malice and hatred as he drove a sword through Wei Wuxian’s chest.

Falling off the blade, only to be devoured by the resentful energy and army of corpses at his command. 

Pain.

Screams.

Blood.

Pain, pain, painpainpain-

-Ying!

“ Wei Ying !”

A pair of hands grab at his shoulders as a voice calls his name. He feels like he was punched in the chest as he comes hurtling back to reality.

Lan Zhan’s golden eyes are clouded with worry, the unrelenting grip on his shoulders showing the other boy’s panic.

“I- I died-” Wei Wuxian chokes out, his pulse jackrabbiting in his chest, his breath coming in uneven pants. 

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen in shock. “Wei Ying…” He whispers brokenly.

“Th- there was a siege- and- and- he stabbed me-” He stares into Lan Zhan’s wide eyes. “Lan Zhan, he stabbed me! I had to destroy the seal- and I knew I would die- but she was gone- Shijie was gone -”

“ Wei Ying !” Lan Zhan yells, and Lan Zhan never yells. 

Wei Wuxian’s gaze snaps back to Lan Zhan’s from where it had strayed somewhere off to the side. “Lan Zhan-”

“Breathe!” Lan Zhan orders, and Wei Wuxian grasps the words like a life-line. He sucks in some much needed air, choking on the first few breaths as they come in harsh and uncontrolled. The next few breaths are more controlled, and the ones after that are still deep and occasionally harsh, but even.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan questions.

“I’m-” His throat is dry and his voice is scratchy, so he swallows and takes a few steadying breaths before trying again. “I’m okay now, Lan Zhan.” Lan Zhan gives him a searching look, so he reaffirms by saying, “I promise, I’m really okay.” 

Back to the matter at hand, though… “Ah… I guess we know what happened to me now.” He laughs, though it sounds hollow to his own ears, and by the look on Lan Zhan’s face, he doesn’t buy the act either. “Well, what about you? I know I died… but I’m obviously not dead now… did you die too?” 

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I… did not.”

“Then why…?” Wei Wuxian mostly addresses the question to himself, already mulling over the possibilities, but Lan Zhan hears anyway and decides to answer.

“After Nightless City…” Wei Wuxian focuses all his attention on the other boy as he pauses, trying to find the right words. “I saved you after Nightless City. Took you to your cave.” Wei Wuxian draws in a startled breath. He doesn’t remember any of that. “The clan elders came. Tried to make me give you to them for punishment. I refused. I fought them.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian whispers brokenly. He had done all that for him? Lan Zhan had been the only one to visit him in the end, but he thought they were maybe acquaintances at best, with a mutual cease fire at worst.

Lan Zhan continues. “I injured 33 of the elders. Uncle sentenced me to 33 lashes of the discipline whip and a three year seclusion as punishment. I fell unconscious from my wounds. When I awoke, I was here.” 

Wei Wuxian takes a few seconds to mull over the given information. He had died. Lan Zhan had not. And yet they both were taken here. Death can’t be the common variable. Lan Zhan had a core, he did not. A spiritual array or spell is out of the equation. They were in different places. 

Wei Wuxian sighs. It seems like they have absolutely nothing in common, which means it’ll be almost impossible to figure out why they were both taken here. Speaking of here… 

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up. 

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

Lan Zhan is painfully silent for a few moments. “Traveled back in time…?” He repeats.

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian scratches his head. “I don’t know exactly how yet, I mean I was dead, and there's not really much that you or I could have done to end up like this. But I’m pretty sure this is the past.” When Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything for a while, Wei Wuxian grows concerned. “Lan Zhan?”

“Our first meeting.” Lan Zhan says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“We first met here. I was here with Uncle and Brother.” He reaches into his robes and draws out a rattle drum. “I saw you. You looked sad. I wanted to give this to you. That is why I approached you. I got lost and you led me back to the inn.”

Wei Wuxian can only sit in silence as he listens to the story that sounds so very familiar, yet foreign at the same time. “That really happened?”

“Mn.”

“Huh.” Wei Wuxian mumbles. “My memory must be really bad. I remember getting the steamed bun.” He motions to the cold piece of bread further down the alley. “But I can’t for the life of me remember us ever meeting like this.” He suddenly has an epiphany. “That’s it!” Lan Zhan startles from the outburst and he quickly stammers an apology. “Sorry, but that’s the missing variable. We were taken back to when we first met. I don’t know why it was us, but it seems my death was the trigger, and our first meeting was the time we got sent to.”

Wei Wuxian can see the cogs working in Lan Zhan’s head as he puts together the pieces and finally nods his agreement. 

Wei Wuxian flops backwards, not caring about the dirty ground. (His robes are dirty and ripped to shreds anyway). “So,” He ventures. “What now?”

Lan Zhan answers after a moment. “Fix the future. Save everyone.”

Wei Wuxian hums. “I was planning on it. What about right now?”

“Come to Gusu with me.” Lan Zhan repeats the words he has said a million times before, and Wei Wuxian can’t help but laugh.

“Aiya~ Lan Zhan! You can’t punish some kid you just met! I haven’t even done anything yet!”

Lan Zhan gives a long suffering sigh. “Not for punishment, Wei Ying. To live, to grow.”

Wei Wuxian’s laughter abruptly cuts off at the words. He sends Lan Zhan a searching look, but the other boy is completely serious. “You want me to live with you? To… grow up with you? Would your uncle even allow it?”

Lan Zhan just says “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian grows silent as he mulls it over. A lot of his problems stemmed from his living in Lotus Pier with the Jiangs. With him out of the equation, Jiang Cheng would get to keep his dogs and grow up with two doting parents. Shijie wouldn’t have to be a parent to her siblings when she is still but a child herself. Madam Yu would love her children and be loved by her husband without Wei Wuxian to fuel the rumors of Uncle Jiang’s infidelity. Because that’s what they were. Just baseless rumors. Uncle Jiang wouldn’t have to worry about a third child while trying to raise a sect heir and a fine lady, while giving his wife the love she deserves. With Wei Wuxian gone, everything would be much better.

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan.” He finally decides sitting up to stare straight into Lan Zhan’s golden gaze.

“I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

“Well, let’s find your uncle and brother, shall we?” Wei Wuxian throws over his shoulder as he turns to give Lan Zhan some privacy to fix his robes. Wei Wuxian may be a kid, but he can show some propriety. Speaking of…

“Ah, Lan Zhan, wait.” Lan Zhan stops fixing his robes and turns his attention back to Wei Wuxian. “We can’t just walk back to your uncle with giant seals on our chests, can we?” 

Understanding what Wei Wuxian means, Lan Zhan pulls his robes aside again. Wei Wuxian steps closer to the other boy and writes a few more characters around the seal. After the last one is in place, the seal fades away, leaving unmarred, porcelain skin behind. Humming his success, he repeats the process on his own chest, making his own seal disappear, or rather, become invisible.

“The seal still works.” Wei Wuxian says as he starts fixing his robes again, not that there’s much to fix. ‘Robes’ is a generous name for the rags hanging off his bony frame. “I just made it invisible. If I nullify the topmost character, it will become visible again, in case we need to change the seal or something. Then I just rewrite the character, and it becomes invisible again. It won’t be able to be sensed by any cultivators, no matter how strong, and only me and you will be able to nullify it. You have to know the original character placement to nullify it, and that’s pretty hard if the character you’re looking for is invisible.” He turns back to Lan Zhan to see him immaculately dressed once again. “I’ll teach you the proper seal later, just in case you need to work on the seal without me there. It might be risky, but you’ll just have to do it yourself in an emergency.”

Lan Zhan turns and leads them out of the alley and back into the crowded streets of Yiling. The further they walk, the harder the nostalgia hits. Wei Wuxian has a bad memory, he knows that, but the sights, sounds, smells, they all bring about the strangest sense of deja vu. He knows he’s seen all this before, but he can’t actively remember any of it.

Even more jarring, is the fact that he lived here for the last few months of his life (previous life?). The images overlap and merge, forming an amalgam of sights and sounds, neither image quite the same, yet sharing enough similarities that it’s familiar all the same. And seeing all of this from a viewpoint as tall as most people’s legs is even more jarring. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian suddenly exclaims. His hold on Lan Zhan’s sleeve pulls the other boy to a stop as he asks, “How old are we? I know we’re little kids, but you know how my memory is…” He gives the other boy a sheepish smile.

Lan Zhan takes a moment to think. “I turned five last winter. It is summer now.”

“ Five !?” Wei Wuxian exclaims. “I knew I was young, but not this young.” He mutters.

Lan Zhan’s eyes suddenly widen. “Five…” He whispers. “My mother-” He cuts himself off, and Wei Wuxian can’t help but wonder.

“Lan Zhan’s mom?” He gently coaxes. “What is it about your mom, Lan Zhan?”

Wei Wuxian finds golden eyes fixed on his as Lan Zhan says in the smallest voice imaginable, “We can save her.” Wei Wuxian feels his breath hitch. “My mother… does not- will not- see my next birthday.” Wei Wuxian notices that he doesn’t directly say she died, but it’s obvious why she wasn’t able to see him on his sixth birthday. “Wei Ying! We have to-” Lan Zhan says desperately, almost in tears. 

Wei Wuxian had seen Lan Zhan cry only once, back when they were teens, when Lan Zhan’s father was dying, his brother missing, and his home razed to the ground. He had cried once, and only once, when the pain had become too much. Five year old Lan Zhan isn’t used to hiding emotion, even if the Lan Zhan currently in front of him had worn a face of stone for years.

“I know, Lan Zhan, but we have to get back to your uncle first, okay?” He grabs Lan Zhan by the hand, and, when he isn’t immediately thrown to the ground, he starts to lead Lan Zhan in the direction they were previously going. He hopes he finds Lan Qiren soon, because with Lan Zhan out of commission for now, and him having absolutely no clue as to where he’s going, they’ll be spending the night on the streets at this rate.

Suddenly thankful for the Lan’s white and light blue ensemble, he easily spots Lan Qiren and an adorably short Lan Xichen in the faded browns and blacks of the common folk of Yiling. 

Both of their eyes widen as they spy the pair, and Lan Xichen thankfully takes the initiative, because Wei Wuxian has no idea what to say in this situation; The second heir of the Lan clan is in tears and unnaturally meek, being led back to his family by a street rat with the intention of being welcomed into their clan and living alongside the heirs.

“A-zhan.” Lan Xichen calls, brows pinched in worry. Lan Zhan is coaxed to his side, and the golden eyed boy immediately latches onto the older boy’s side and buries his face in his robes. 

Wei Wuxian panics, because he has no way to logically explain this situation without blurting out something stupid like time travel. Which is why he breathes a sigh of relief when Lan Xichen says, “Are you sad because you got lost, A-zhan?” Lan Zhan stays quiet, which Lan Xichen thankfully takes as confirmation. “Oh, A-zhan. It’s okay now, Uncle and I are here.” He says, petting the younger boy’s hair.

With Lan Zhan taken care of, the attention shifts to Wei Wuxian. Both Lan’s blink at the sudden appearance of another child, and Wei Wuxian curses his tiny stature as they stare and tower above him. 

Lan Xichen’s amiable personality is a godsend as he smiles and makes Wei Wuxian feel more like a guest being welcomed and less like a criminal being interrogated. “Who are you, little one?” Lan Xichen queries.

Lan Zhan speaks next, though his voice is painfully small. “Wei Ying…”

Lan Qiren stiffens as he says almost absently, “Wei Changze.”

Wei Wuxian latches onto the name and puts on his best five year old face as he says, “Papa? You know Papa?”

Lan Qiren’s face softens a little and Wei Wuxian feels like he can finally breathe now that the elder Lan isn’t staring at him like he’ll steal his coin pouch and bolt. Lan Qiren shakes his head. “I didn’t know your Papa, but your Mama and I were…” He pulls a face. “Friends.” He then looks around, before taking in Wei Wuxian’s appearance. His expression falls further. “Your parents, do you know where they are, A-ying?”

Wei Wuxian makes an exaggeration out of thinking before finally saying, “I’m… not sure?” He poses it as a question towards the elder Lan. “They left, then I left when no more food.” He turns the cuteness factor up to 11 as he blinks up at Lan Qiren. “Are Mama and Papa coming back?” He looks down to his feet and makes his lips wobble and eyes water. “I miss them…”

He glances back at Lan Qiren through his bangs and watches the emotions flit across his face. Sadness, indecision, then a resolute calm. Score!

“A-ying…” Lan Qiren says softly as he bends down to Wei Wuxian’s level. “Would you like to stay with us for a while? Just until we figure out why your mama and papa left?”

Wei Wuxian blinks his watery eyes at the older man. “Stay with mama’s friend?”

Lan Qiren nods. “Me, A-zhan, and Xichen.”

Wei Wuxian grins. “Thank you, big brother!”

Lan Qiren’s face goes redder than a bowl of chilies and he sputters a cough. “Big-” He looks like he regrets the decision already. “Please.” He pleads. “Just call me ‘Uncle’.”

“Okay, Uncle!” Wei Wuxian chirps.

When the acting Sect Leader returns with three children instead of two, it only takes a beaming grin from the child for the Lan’s to accept the new addition with open arms.

-----

Wei Wuxian is more comfortable now than he’s been in months. Physically, he hasn’t had a good meal, clean clothes, or a bed for nearly a year. Mentally, he wasn’t much better off. His home in the Burial Mounds was a cave. He slept on a rock, had moderately clean robes, and three meals a day, even if they were mostly boiled radish, radish soup, and steamed radish.

Now, he’s in clean, soft, white robes, (He was accepted into the clan as a guest disciple, even if he was a little young, so he got to keep his trademark red and black robes, but since they were in tatters, he has to make due with Lan Clan robes until he can get a new pair.) he had a bland, but filling meal, and he’s in a large, plush bed. He has to share the bed, but since it’s large enough for six grown men to lay side by side, then two five year olds can comfortably lay in it without even getting close to each other. 

Two five year olds can sleep in the bed without getting close, but that doesn’t mean they will . Two tiny hands are fisted in the back of his robes, and there’s a pleasant warmth permeating his entire back, meaning he’s basically being cuddled by the Great Hanguang-jun, second master of the esteemed Lan Sect, one of the hailed Twin Jades of Lan. 

(Since he is becoming a permanent resident, he will be getting his own quarters, but those will take time to prepare, so he’s staying with Lan Zhan for a few days.) 

Normally Wei Wuxian would be ecstatic. He has been vying for Lan Zhan’s attention for years , but the current Lan Zhan is… wrong. Talking about his mother seems to have made him regress a little. He’s not a carefree young child, so he didn’t regress to before his mother died, but he isn’t quite past being dependent on his brother and uncle. So he’s currently in the mentality of about his eight or nine year old self. Which apparently means he latches onto the nearest person in his sleep. 

Any other night, it would have been nice, and Wei Wuxian would have fallen asleep and savored not being alone, but he wanted to do something else tonight, and having Lan Zhan clutching his robes for dear life hinders his mission a little. 

So, step one: escape Lan Zhan’s deathly clutches. He searches around for the nearest object and thankfully finds a nice sized pillow. He clutches it to his chest to heat it up a little before carefully turning on his back. The robes are a little big and have some give, so Lan Zhan keeps his robe, and Wei Wuxian manages to turn without waking his bedmate. With a patience not even Lan An possesses, he carefully unwraps Lan Zhan’s hands from his robe and manages to push the pillow into Lan Zhan’s grasp quickly enough that the other boy doesn’t even stir. 

Step two: leave the Jingshi. This step is thankfully easier. Even the mountaintops of Cloud Recesses get hot during the height of summer, so a window was left propped open before they went to bed. Wei Wuxian easily crawls through the opening and lands silently in the grass outside the Jingshi. 

Step three: find Lan Zhan’s mom. Wei Wuxian, being the troublemaker he is, has explored the Cloud Recesses top to bottom, even the forbidden and abandoned sections. He follows winding stone paths, managing to dodge the night patrol like a pro. The trip takes longer on his tiny legs, but he finally leaves behind the main complex and enters the abandoned section of Cloud Recesses. 

The trip speeds up now, because abandoned places don’t need guards, and he runs the rest of the way to the small cottage nestled deep in the surrounding forest. 

He had spent most of the day mulling over where Lan Zhan’s mom could have been staying, and he finally settled on the cottage. She was obviously separated from her children, since Lan Zhan made such a big deal about her seeing him on his birthday. She also didn’t have a plaque in the ancestral hall. 

When Wei Wuxian was being punished by having to kneel in the ancestral hall, his curiosity demanded he explore. He traced back the descendants, but the place where Lan Zhan’s mom should be was skipped over. The connection would have been impossible to make back then, but now that he has more facts, the skipped name is obvious.

So he went straight for the abandoned cottage. It’s a cozy looking house. The outside is covered in white stone, with wood panels coating the roof. Freshly bloomed purple-blue flowers line the outside of the cottage, looking almost black in the dark of the night. A light shines from one of the windows, meaning the occupant (hopefully Lan Zhan’s mom) is still awake. 

He takes a pebble and lobs it at the window. It hits it with a thunk, and Wei Wuxian waits. The wait isn’t long, because barely a moment later, the window is being thrown open. 

A woman in her twenties or thirties peers out into the night, her messy, brown hair backlit by the light shining behind her. Her eyes are a chestnut brown, the soft color made sharp by the intelligence of her gaze.

“Who’s there?” She calls out, her voice surprisingly gruff and yet somehow melodious at the same time.

“Hello?” He calls back, making sure to sound as meek and weak as a child his age would be if he got lost and suddenly found a cottage in the woods.  

Her gaze snaps to him, but upon seeing a child, it softens. “Hello, little one. What are you doing out here by yourself? Come here, I’ll bring you inside.”

He approaches the window and the woman’s outstretched hands. When he’s close enough, firm hands scoop him up as if he weighs nothing and haul him through the window. The woman balances him on her hip as she latches the window before making her way across the room and setting him down on a small bed. 

“So, what is a kid like you doing way out here in the middle of the night?” 

“Well…” He starts, making sure to sound like a lost child. “I was hungry, and I didn’t want to wake up Lan Zhan, so I left… but then I got lost, and then I saw your house with the lights on…” He trails off and lets the woman draw her own conclusions. 

She listens dutifully before perking up at Lan Zhan’s name. So this really is his mom. He studies her again, and can’t fathom how this intelligent looking woman, with a clear spice for life and fire in her eyes, could have possibly died. 

“You know A-zhan?” She questions, clearly hopeful.

“Lan Zhan?” he tilts his head to the side. “I’m staying with him until Uncle can get me my own place to stay.”

She smiles. “I’m glad A-zhan has a friend. What’s your name, sweetie?”

He beams, not even having to act this time. “Wei Ying! Does big sister have a name?”

She gives a hearty laugh. “Ah, I’m too old to be a big sister, but you can call me 'mama' if you want.”

He scrunches up his nose at that. “I already have a Mama, though.” He says, like having two Mamas would break the universe.

She hums, making a show out of thinking. “How about Aunty Yue, then?”

Lan Yue. He finally has a name for the woman Lan Zhan cares for so deeply.

“Okay, Aunty Yue!” He says, genuinely happy to get to know Lan Zhan’s mom. 

Lan Yue laughs at his upbeat attitude. “You’re something else, kid. You’re not like my A-zhan or A-huan at all.” She says wistfully.

Wei Wuxian feels a comforting warmth in his chest at finding someone to share the greatness of Lan Zhan with. “Lan Zhan is really quiet. Not like me at all.” He agrees. 

She laughs again before her expression drops a little. She sighs. “You know you’re breaking rules by talking to me, right?”

He blinks. “I am?” Not that he cares, though it is a little strange. Is there a rule that states ‘One may not visit their mother’? He knows the Lans are strict, but they wouldn’t be cruel, would they?

“Yeah.” She says. “I’m not allowed any visitors unless it’s at a certain time of the month.”

“That’s stupid.” He blurts out, entirely serious. “You're super nice. And who cares about rules anyway?”

Her expression is comically surprised before she bursts out laughing, gasping for air and clutching her belly. “I like you.” She crows between bouts of laughter. 

When she can finally take a full breath without laughing she says, “I don’t want you breaking too many rules, so how about this." Her eyes give a mischievous sparkle, and Wei Wuxian knows him and Lan Yue will get along just fine. "Every seven days you can come visit me at the same time as tonight, and when my children visit me, you can come along. That sound okay with you?”

Wei Wuxian honestly didn’t know what to expect when he sought out Lan Zhan’s mom tonight, but this definitely wasn’t it. He got an aunt, someone to visit in the middle of the night once a week, someone to talk about Lan Zhan with, and a mother figure that he didn’t know he missed. This would also help with his info gathering and trying to figure out how she died and ways to prevent that death.

With his mind made up, he looks her in the eye and says with a beaming smile, “Thanks, Aunty Yue. I’d like that a lot.”

Chapter Text

Lan Xichen

It’s been a week since the day Lan Xichen got a new… brother? Friend? Martial sibling? Well, whatever the new child is in relation to him, he would say it's a welcome change. 

He’s learned a few things about A-Ying since he’d come to live in Cloud Recesses. For one, he’s very… loud.

His words are loud (not loud enough to break rules, but it’s a near thing), his personality is loud (Uncle is reserved, and A-Zhan is even more so, so that was a welcome surprise), and, this next fact quite surprised Lan Xichen, but even his actions are loud. 

In short, A-Ying is the embodiment of the word loud, at least to Lan Xichen. Uncle has been grumbling about a ‘demon child’, but besides being a little enthusiastic, Lan Xichen can’t see how A-Ying can possibly be compared to a demon. He’s sweet, and sincere, and has only broken maybe two or three rules in his stay so far. Only minor ones, like running, or talking while eating, so Lan Xichen isn’t too worried yet.

Another change he’s noticed has been in A-Zhan. He’s not sure whether it's a good or bad change yet, but it's a change nonetheless. A-Zhan seems to have matured… yet not. He’s still the same at his core, that is, a polite, quiet, and smart child, but some things are different. 

Where Lan Xichen used to be able to read his brother’s small tells and expressions like an open book, now it's like the book has been translated to a foreign language. He knows that his brother’s micro expressions and tiny movements mean something, he just can’t figure out what. It’s like his brother has become an entirely new person overnight. 

He also isn’t as dependent on Lan Xichen and Uncle anymore. That change hurt more than any of the others. One day he had his brother following diligently behind him, reading, practicing calligraphy, and eating together. The next, his brother had done all those things, followed the same routine he had been for months, but by himself. They both read, but at separate ends of the library. They both still did calligraphy practice, but A-Zhan has moved to doing his in the Jingshi. They still ate together, sitting at the same table, never talking, because that was against the rules, but it was like a wall was suddenly there where there hadn’t been before.

He’s not sure if Uncle noticed yet. Uncle has been Acting Sect Leader since Father entered seclusion, and barely sees them during the day, except for calligraphy, reading and meals. If the change in A-Zhan persists much longer, he might have to go to Uncle. He doesn’t know if this is something that can be changed, or fixed, but at the very least Uncle should know, even if he can’t do anything to help.

Change has happened in Cloud Recesses. As to whether it’s good or bad; Lan Xichen doesn’t know yet. The only thing he can do is observe and wait.

…

Wei Wuxian has fallen into somewhat of a normal routine since coming to live in Cloud Recesses. He wakes up at five every morning. But of course, it's only because Lan Zhan wakes up every morning at five, like he has been doing for his entire life, and subsequently wakes Wei Wuxian when he untangles their limbs from where they’d been cuddled together the night before. 

(Lan Zhan! Cuddling! It makes Wei Wuxian want to squeal and pinch the other boy’s cheeks. He has yet to give in to those urges, because he knows he’ll probably spend the next few days sleeping on the floor, and away from his nightly cuddles, but his self control gets thinner and thinner every night.)

After waking up, they get dressed and head to the banquet hall for breakfast. The food is as bland as ever, plain congee, boiled tofu, a broth that tastes more like medicine than actual food, but it is hot, and fresh, and definitely tastes better than radish. 

(He’d argued for days with Wen Qing about whether to plant radishes or potatoes when they first got to the Burial Mounds, and since radishes were cheaper, she won that argument, and for months it was radish, radish, radish. Potatoes will always be better, he thinks, but as long as he never has to eat another radish, the bland food will be something he can get used to.

Thinking about the Wens is always bittersweet. They all died, and even if he wasn’t there to witness every single one of their deaths, he knows they all died. But this is a new life. Those events never happened, will never happen. So he pushes the sadness and bitterness away, and only leaves the positive and well meaning emotions behind.)

After breakfast is meditation. It’s been 2 weeks since he’s come to live here, and not once has Uncle had to yell at him for having bad form, or sleeping when he shouldn’t be. Now, he’s not actually meditating. He wouldn't be Wei Wuxian if he actually meditated. He’d rather eat a radish than meditate. On the outside, he looks like the model disciple: Back straight, face blank, not even a twitch of movement until meditation time is over. But on the inside, he’s actually thinking up new talismans and arrays for when he actually has a core.

After meditation is an hour of self study, which Lan Zhan uses to go read in the library, but Wei Wuxian uses that time to write down all of the ideas he came up with during meditation. It’s almost like this schedule was catered especially to him, or maybe he’s just a genius like that. 

After self study is lunch. Lotus tea, jasmine for Lan Zhan, tofu and bamboo shoots in an herbal broth, and then on to calligraphy with Uncle.

Calligraphy with Uncle is… interesting. To keep up their identities as children, and to cement themselves as prodigies in the future to give them more mobility, they have to excel at everything they do, but not so much that they will be questioned. Wei Wuxian’s calligraphy is sloppy, like always, but for a child, having the character correct is more important than having an immortal’s flair for calligraphy. 

Uncle is surprisingly honest and genuine with his praise, unlike Madame Yu or Uncle Jiang. He praises you when you do good, and corrects you when you do bad, and he only does these things if you honestly deserve it.

For being a man with a temper and gruff attitude, Uncle’s surprisingly good with children. He raised the Twin Jades of Lan, so it's to be expected, but… seeing it in person is… Nice. Being able to experience it in person is nice.

After calligraphy is sword forms. They still have wooden swords, which is an experience in and of itself. Their bodies can’t deal with anything more strenuous than waving around the light wood, but their minds are used to the hefty weight and bite of a metal sword. 

Lan Zhan always makes faces during sword training. Wei Wuxian knows it's because of the disconnect between body and mind, but with his memories sealed for now, it's only his subconscious that realizes something is wrong. So little Lan Zhan will scrunch up his face into, dare he say, a pout , and swings the wooden sword like the obedient little Lan he is. Cute!

After swords class is dinner. Back to the banquet hall, eat the bland food in silence, and then comes a few hours of rest before curfew.

And then his favorite part of the day; Bedtime. He’s not even disappointed anymore that he goes to bed at nine and rises at five like a Lan, because going to bed at nine means he gets to cuddle Lan Zhan. 

The curfew bell will ring at exactly nine o’clock, Wei Wuxian will clean up his reading or writing materials, and will climb into bed. Not a second later a second body will climb in after him and latch onto the back of his robes. He relaxes, and in the few minutes it takes him to fall asleep, Lan Zhan will snuggle even closer, until he’s basically Lan Zhan’s personal pillow (not that he minds).

They sleep through the night, Lan Zhan somehow wakes at exactly five through some ungodly technique engraved into his very soul (because apparently the freaky Lan internal clock can survive a trip through time), and the cycle repeats.

-----

Wei Wuxian is worried about Lan Zhan. It’s been a month, and his regression hasn’t reversed or even changed a little. At first, Wei Wuxian thought it might be a temporary thing. His mind was put under strain, so he cocooned back into his child self. That was understandable given the circumstances. And in a day or two, he would bounce right back, and mission Save Aunty Yue could commence. But he never changed back .

The clock was ticking down to the time of Aunty Yue’s death, and with Lan Zhan being the only person who has any knowledge about what actually happened, it’s becoming dangerous for Lan Zhan to not remember anything. 

If she’s being killed using some slow acting poison, or if someone is plotting against her, they need to stop it now, before it's too late. At some point, even if they have time left, even if they know what’s going on, they won’t be able to save her. Not without blowing their cover, and letting people know who they are while they’re still weak.

They can’t use their full cores right now, even in a life or death situation. Their bodies aren’t strong enough yet to house their adult cores. If they unlock their full power now, even to defend themselves, the pain will incapacitate them and save their enemies the trouble of having to fight them.

And it goes without saying that a five year old won’t win in a fight against an adult, no matter how old their minds really are.

And resentful energy is off the table. Without a core to handle the backlash, and with a child’s weak body, he’d be dead within a week from just a few talismans.

So. They're pretty much defenseless with only their memories to help them. And Lan Zhan is currently lacking his. 

He knows he shouldn’t be mad at him, but-

It’s just so frustrating.

He has to save Aunty Yue alone, with no clue as to how she died. He’s been visiting her, and getting to know her, and having nice conversations with her during the times he visits once a week, and he can’t help but stare at her when she’s not looking, and try to figure out a way to keep her from dying, with absolutely nothing to go on.

He has to deal with Uncle, and not flinch under his gaze, because less than half a year ago, Uncle had hated him, and looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. And now he praises him for getting a character right in his calligraphy practice, and gives him a little extra congee for breakfast, because he knows Wei Wuxian came from the streets, and eats a little more than his nephews, and doesn’t begrudge the little touches Wei Wuxian bestows upon him, because Wei Wuxian has always been tactile, and a small part of him relishes that he can seek comfort without being subjecting to hateful glares for being the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, even if it’s from a person he barely knew in his first life. 

He has to deal with Lan Xichen, and try not to grimace as he calls Wei Wuxian kind for choosing not to move to his own quarters, and being Lan Zhan’s friend. He has to keep the corrections from flowing off his tongue when Lan Xichen tells him his calligraphy work and reading is well above average, and that he’ll grow up to be envied by the wisest of scholars. He has to smile and nod along as Lan Xichen weaves tales of the future, where his ‘A-Ying’ and ‘A-Zhan’ will night hunt with him, when they all grow up to be strong-cored cultivators. 

Wei Wuxian is alone, living a life in a second chance he doesn’t deserve, trying to save a woman he is growing to love like a mother and desperately doesn’t want to lose, planning, watching, and calculating, so that everything goes right, when fate had dictated so many times before that everything would go wrong.

And maybe he's panicking a little. They have five months left. Plenty of things can happen in five months. He invented an entire new form of cultivation in three. But with a loved ones life on the line, he'd rather be safe than sorry.

So.

Wei Wuxian is alone, and counting down the days until not even the return of Lan Zhan’s memories will be able to make this second chance all that they had promised it would be. 

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren

It’s been two months since he’s taken in A-Ying. A week ago, he sent a message to Fengmian revealing A-Ying’s status as a ward of Cloud Recesses and child of Fengmian’s sworn brother. Today, he is to meet with the Sect Leader, and hopefully come to an agreement about the situation with A-Ying.

The current predicament with A-Ying is a little complicated, for his affiliations lie with many different parties. His status as ward, and later direct disciple, makes him a cultivator of the Lan Sect. His father’s sworn brotherhood to the Jiang Sect Leader also makes him a Jiang by blood. But after marrying Cangse Sanren, Wei Changze defected from the Jiang Sect to become a rogue cultivator with his wife, so it’s unclear if that blood tie still stands.

And then there’s the child’s mother. It’s unknown if Cangse Sanren has any blood relatives, but it is known that she came from Immortal Baoshan Sanren’s Sect. Ideally, since A-Ying’s father defected from his sect, A-Ying would be taken to his mother’s sect upon her death, but since Baoshan Sanren keeps her mountain hidden from all those outside her sect, it would be impossible to find. 

Which leaves the situation as it is now; A-Ying has affiliations with two different sects, three if you count Baoshan Sanren’s sect, it’s unknown if he has any blood relatives, he obviously can’t be put back on the streets, and it’s as clear as muddied water who he rightfully belongs to.

Lan Qiren stands at the gates of Cloud Recesses, waiting for the arrival of Fengmian. It’s around lunchtime, with the sun high in the sky, and most disciples at the banquet hall eating their midday meal. The wait for his guests is quiet and tranquil, something that has grown to be rare these days. The Cloud Recesses are only quiet at meal time and night nowadays, he thinks fondly. A-Ying seems to have a never ending list of things to say, only being quiet during meals and after curfew. The child has never broken the rule of yelling, but even then, Lan Qiren doubts he could force himself to discipline the child. 

And he isn’t the only one who has become taken by A-Ying’s unique charm. The residents of Cloud Recesses pride themselves on being calm, collected, and having a firm grasp on their emotions. Someone like A-Ying is the complete opposite of what they have been honing and training for years. He’s loud, and every emotion is clearly written across his face. His smiles are balms for the soul, and his tears elicit the same emotion someone would feel looking at a kicked puppy. 

His nephews have also latched on to the bright child like a new sibling. Lan Qiren finds he quite likes how they all even each other out. A-Ying is a prodigy and has the natural charisma his counterparts lack, but he is also impulsive, and has little filter for his words. A-Zhan is also a natural talent for matters of the mind, with a strong foundation already for his golden core, but he barely speaks a dozen words a day, and would rather stay silent than participate in a conversation. A-Ying has taken to being A-Zhan’s words for when he lacks the ability to voice his desires, but the two boys on their own lack stability and a needed peace. Which is why Xichen is the perfect older brother. He acts as the voice of reason for A-Ying, and already excels in Sect politics, being able to speak for A-Zhan while adding a little more civility to the words rather than the propriety-lacking way A-Ying would normally speak them. 

A splash of purple in his periphery draws him from his musings as Fengmian and his contingent of cultivators dismount from their swords outside the gates. The Jiang Sect Leader wears a serene smile, and his flowing lavender and violet robes are immaculate despite the long trip. 

“Qiren.” Fengmian greets, professional, but casual enough for two Sect Leaders who have been allies for years. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’ve been well since I’ve seen you last?”

“Likewise, Fengmian.” Lan Qiren replies, happy to converse with Jiang Fengmian when most of the Sect Leaders these days could use a lesson or two in propriety. He motions for Jiang Fengmian to follow him inside the gates and towards the meeting room as he continues. “I’ve been well, as have A-Zhan and Xichen. What of your own children? Your oldest is around the same age as Xichen, if I recall.”

Fengmian hums his assent. “A-Li has taken quite well to her studies, and will no doubt grow to be a fine lady, though I may be terribly biased.” His tone leaks with pride, though mirth is evident in his eyes.

Lan Qiren huffs a laugh. “I don’t doubt that she will make a fine lady. If Yanli wasn’t already betrothed, I might try and see if Xichen could charm his way into a betrothal.” He sighs. “But sadly it is not to be, and us old coots must forge relations between our Sects with letters and talks over tea.”

“Well then.” Jiang Fengmian says as they arrive at the meeting room. “Let’s talk over tea, shall we?”

Lan Qiren and Fengmian enter the room and sit across from each other at the low table. Lan Qiren sends a disciple to fetch A-Ying while another pours tea and sets a tray of lotus cakes on the table.

While they wait for A-Ying, easy conversation flows, but Lan Qiren can tell that the longer they wait, the more strained Fengmian becomes. His words are stilted, and more and more silences are drawn out by sipping tea. Just when the silence is becoming awkward, the disciple returns with A-Ying.

The child enters with a bright, “Uncle!” and approaches the table, but stops in his tracks as he sees the second person seated across from Lan Qiren. Fengmian has the same shocked look on his face, and Lan Qiren regrets not warning his friend of the appearance of the child to at least give him a moment to collect himself. 

…

When Wei Wuxian was told to follow the disciple to a meeting room with Uncle, he just assumed Uncle had moved his calligraphy practice to somewhere else, but oh, how wrong he was. 

He enters the room and brightly greets Uncle, and then promptly freezes as Uncle Jiang comes into view. And like the idiot he is, he instinctively blurts out, “Uncle Jiang?”

Both men freeze, and Wei Wuxian wants to bash his head into a wall. Logically, there’s no way to cover his slip up. He’s never met Uncle Jiang in this life, and if he has, he was too young to remember anything, much less to recognise the man on sight and be close enough to him to call him ‘Uncle’.

So he does the only thing he can do: Fake it ‘till you make it and use your five-year-old cuteness to your advantage. 

He scrunches up his face and tilts his head this way and that. He looks to Uncle and hesitantly questions, “Purple is… Jiang… right? Papa said it was.” He adds a little more confidently at Uncle’s small nod. He looks back to Uncle Jiang. “So that makes you Jiang Uncle?” He looks to the floor in thought. “Or… Purple Uncle?” 

Uncle Jiang laughs at that and Wei Wuxian internally breathes a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

Uncle Jiang levels him with a gentle smile as Wei Wuxian comes to sit at Uncle’s side, where he’s handed his own cup of tea to sip from (Lotus! His favorite!). “Qiren has told me about you.” Uncle Jiang says. “Your name is Wei Ying, right? Can I call you A-Ying like your uncle does?” Wei Wuxian nods to both questions, and Uncle Jiang visibly relaxes. “And how old are you, A-Ying?”

Wei Wuxian counts on his hands before exclaiming, “Five!”

Uncle Jiang laughs at his enthusiasm before seeming to remember why they’re having this conversation in the first place. He takes a sip of tea before continuing. “You said your papa told you that the Jiangs wear purple. Did he tell you anything else?” 

Wei Wuxian makes a show of thinking hard, stalling with a sip from his own cup, before shaking his head. “I don’t think so?”

Uncle Jiang sighs, a sad, resigned, sound. He sets his cup down with a small clack from where he was motioning to take a drink. There’s a small tremor in his hands from where they’re clenched together on the table. “Well, A-Ying, I knew your papa a long time ago. Your papa is- was… used to be my brother.” He finally finishes.

“Not anymore?” Wei Wuxian questions, because in truth, this information is new to him. He’s pretty sure he isn’t actually Uncle Jiang’s nephew by blood (he wouldn’t have been treated as bad by Madam Yu if that was the case), so they were probably sworn brothers. And he’s pretty sure the past tense isn’t being used just because Papa is dead. 

“When your papa married your mama, he… stopped being brothers with me.” Uncle Jiang makes a pained face, but his voice stays steady. 

So that probably means he defected from the sect, or at least left without the Sect Leader’s permission, effectively cutting all ties.

The conversation is quickly approaching an old wound for Uncle Jiang, and Wei Wuxian is immensely grateful when Uncle cuts in. “We brought you here, A-Ying, because we have something important to talk to you about.”

Wei Wuxian looks between his Uncles and has to keep the horror off his face as he realizes what this conversation is about. Potentially, this could end with him being shipped off to Lotus Pier, leaving Lan Zhan alone, and Aunty Yue defenseless. If it comes to that, Wei Wuxian isn’t sure if he’s going to be able to keep his identity a secret any longer, because he can’t go back there no matter what. Not while he needs to keep Aunty Yue alive and make sure Lan Zhan isn’t alone.

“I’ve adopted you into the Sect.” Uncle continues. “Which means you could grow up here with A-Zhan and Xichen and me.” He then motions to Uncle Jiang. “But you are also Fengmain’s nephew. You could live at Lotus Pier and live with his two children and his family.”

Wei Wuxian breathes a sigh of relief. So he has a choice, thank the gods. After a pause, Wei Wuxian says, “If I stay with Uncle, could I visit Uncle Jiang? Because he’s Papa’s brother, right? He knew Papa?” There’s no way he’s going to live at Lotus Pier, but if he can at least visit and get to know Shijie and Jiang Cheng, without overstaying his welcome and gaining Madam Yu’s ire… 

Jiang Fengmian is the one that answers after a quick glance at Uncle. “Of course you can, A-Ying. I think you’ll like visiting,” He muses next. “My son is just a little younger than you and A-Zhan, so I think you’ll get along well. And I have a daughter the same age as Xichen.”

Uncle rises and makes to leave. “We’ll discuss the details after you leave.” he says to Uncle Jiang. “For now, I’ll give A-Ying a break from his lessons until dinner, so that you can speak to him.” He turns to Wei Wuxian. “Is that okay with you, A-Ying?”

“Mn!”

Uncle chuckles. “Well then. The lotus cakes are for you, and just call for a disciple if you need more tea.” He says the last part to Uncle Jiang, before he turns and leaves.

Uncle Jiang has a smile on his face as he sips his tea. “Would you like to know more about your papa, A-Ying?”

-----

When Wei Wuxian finally gets back to the Jingshi, it's way past dinner time. Instead of going to the banquet hall, Uncle had delivered his meal to the meeting room along with a special one for Uncle Jiang catered to be similar to the food typically found in Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian stayed quiet during the meal, but Uncle Jiang noticed his longing looks at the food, and shared a conspiratorial wink with Wei Wuxian as he handed over a few bits of his meal. Needless to say, the best dinner he’s had at Cloud Recesses so far.

He enters the Jingshi full of good food and good stories, and finds Lan Zhan sitting at the table in the middle of the room with papers laid all over its surface. It looks to be in Wei Wuxian’s handwriting, so Lan Zhan’s probably studying a few characters that are giving him trouble in his calligraphy.

“Sorry I missed dinner, Lan Zhan. Someone came to visit me. He knew my Papa, so we talked for a while.”

“Mn.”

It's close to bedtime, so he strips to just his inner robes and walks over to his desk to get some of his talismans to work on until curfew. 

“Wei Ying?”

“Hm?” He flips through a stack of papers and grabs the one he’s looking for. He’s thinking of remaking the Spirit-Attraction Flags with added features like attracting only one type of creature, or added distance. He’ll definitely need to add a water character in there somewhere for the distance, but the distinction feature might need earth- or maybe fire? He’ll have to take the character for ‘look’ and ‘find’ and change it somehow.

“What is the ‘Sunshot Campaign’?”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

“What is the ‘Sunshot Campaign’?”

Wei Wuxian’s head whips around so fast the world briefly spins. His gaze meets gold before it flits down to finally make out what it is that Lan Zhan is reading. It’s Wei Wuxian’s handwriting, but the papers spread out over the low table in the middle of the room definitely aren’t calligraphy. 

They’re notes.

Notes that Wei Wuxian had written in case his memory failed him. Notes to help him sort through events and dates that even months later he has to rewrite because a new detail was suddenly remembered. Notes that he keeps safely tucked in his own personal desk. Safe, because a Lan would never go snooping through someone else’s things without permission.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian says, completely ignoring the boy’s question. “Where did you get those papers?” Wei Wuxian is scatterbrained. It would be understandable if he accidentally left them out. But if it's the alternative… if Lan Zhan broke rules- broke his trust -

“Some notes were left on your desk.” Wei Wuxian breathes a sigh of relief even as he berates himself for the mistake. “I wanted to clean it for you, but…” Lan Zhan trails off, a furrow in his brow.

Wei Wuxian sets the Spirit-Attraction Flag notes back on his desk before approaching Lan Zhan. He rounds the table and sits on the other side, taking some of the notes to see what exactly Lan Zhan saw. 

“You wrote of me…” Lan Zhan continues uncertainly. “But it was not me?” He spreads his hands over the papers in front of him. “You wrote my name. You described me. But these… stories? Events? I… did not know of them. So I…” His expression stays as calm as ever, albeit with a confused furrow to his brow, but his blushing ears belie his shame. “I looked through your things.” He says in a whisper, as if Uncle will come bursting through the door to demand repentance. 

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian consoles quietly. “You were confused and looking for answers. I understand and forgive you. Let’s forget about it, yeah?”

Lan Zhan hesitantly nods his head, continuing his explanation. “I looked for more notes with my name. And then I found…” He quiets, looking for a way to explain what he found when he isn’t quite sure what it is he found. He pushes the papers towards Wei Wuxian when his words fail him. 

Wei Wuxian takes the offered papers and skims them over. The papers Lan Zhan found detail most of the Sunshot Campaign. Laid over the table between the two boys is pages upon pages of battles, deaths, and heroic feats, sorted by date, importance, or how easy it was for Wei Wuxian to recall the event to put it to paper.

“What is the ‘Sunshot Campaign’?” Lan Zhan finally asks, repeating the question that started this whole conversation.

Just as the words are ready to spill from Wei Wuxian’s lips, he pauses. This isn’t his Lan Zhan. This is a Lan Zhan that, deep down, knows what loss feels like. The loss of a mother, the loss of an absent father, the loss of a childhood, creating a quiet child sheltered for years by the Cloud Recesses before being forced out into the world by war, whether he was ready or not. But on the surface, he’s just a kid, confused as to why he has trouble during sword practice, and wondering why he can talk to Wei Wuxian like an old friend, but becomes tongue-tied around the brother he grew up with and the uncle he was raised by.

If Wei Wuxian really wants to, he can play it off as stories. Say that Lan Xichen’s tales of the three of them as cultivators spurred his own imagination to run wild. It would be far-fetched, but not impossible, and eventually this conversation would be forgotten.

But Wei Wuxian needs help. In 4 months, Aunty Yue will die, and Lan Zhan is the only one who could possibly have any inkling as to how she died. And even if Lan Zhan doesn’t have any information that can help, Wei Wuxian just needs someone else who knows . He needs someone else who knows he isn’t actually five years old. Someone else who comes from the same bleak future, who is the ice to Wei Wuxian’s fire. The calm to his chaos. Someone to bounce ideas off of, who has a mind just as brilliant as his own. Someone to be the face of their operation, to keep nosy adults’ concerns assuaged while Wei Wuxian breaks rules, and sneaks out for midnight meets, and does everything a Lan can’t, while Lan Zhan does everything only a Lan can .

They can just be normal kids with normal childhoods after Aunty Yue is safe. But for now, they need to be the Yiling Yaozu and Hanguang-jun.

With a silent prayer for the death of Lan Zhan’s blissful ignorance, he says, “Lan Zhan. We’re both from the future.” A look of open surprise on Lan Zhan’s normally impassive face is his only indication that the other boy heard. “The notes you found are real- or were real at one point. Clans are taken out, people die, and the world just generally goes to shit. So us two were sent back. I don’t know how, or why just us, but someone is going to die soon, and I need your help to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“But I… do not remember a time like this.” Lan Zhan looks skeptical. Even if he trusts Wei Wuxian, this is just too far a jump for his mind to grasp.

“During swords class. The swords feel too light during forms but just right when you first pick them up.” Lan Zhan meets his gaze with wide eyes.

“How did you…?”

“Lan Xichen and Uncle. You have trouble talking to them. Do you feel sad when you look at them? Or guilty? How about hurt? Deep down, do you feel like they broke your trust, even though you can’t remember an instance when they could have possibly done something so treacherous towards you that you think your trust in them will never be what it once was?” Wei Wuxian knows that it’s a low blow, but you don’t just get whipped 30 times and have no mental or emotional scars towards the people who did it to you.

“Brother is…” Lan Zhan drops his gaze to stare at the papers in front of him. “Brother is disappointed in me.” He whispers, sounding broken. “Uncle is mad. But I never did anything. They do not give me a punishment for anything I did wrong.” He stares back at Wei Wuxian imploringly. “So why…?”

“It’s the future, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian leans forwards to tap Lan Zhan on the forehead, just below the ribbon. His face scrunches up, but he doesn’t move away. “Your mind knows, deep down, that something happened, so that’s why you feel like Uncle is mad, and Lan Xichen is disappointed in you. Right now, when you’re just five years old, none of this happened, so you don’t know why they feel that way, only that they feel it.”

“But if I do not remember, then why did you?” Lan Zhan looks like he believes Wei Wuxian’s spiel about time travel, but now he just looks confused.

Well, it’s now or never. Last time, he had completely shut down. Would mentioning his mother reverse the effects this time? “Lan Zhan… Your mother-” Wei Wuxian stops himself, hesitant.

“Mother?” Lan Zhan questions, blinking curiously. 

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, not wanting to witness the hurt flash across Lan Zhan’s features. “If we don’t do anything to stop it, your mother will die in four months’ time.”

The room is deathly silent in the wake of his statement. Even the usual noises of the night seem to pause at his words. 

Lan Zhan’s face is blank, his eyes clouded over, not seeing. “Mother… dies?”

…

Lan Zhan doesn’t hear anything but white noise after Wei Ying’s statement. His eyes are fixed on some point far away, but he doesn’t see anything. Even his body seems far away. His hands lay slack on the table where they were sorting through notes, yet the smooth sensations of paper and wood don’t register on his fingers. He can’t feel the floor beneath him, furthering the turbulent panic in his mind. He tries to move, to ground himself, to seek comfort, but he finds he can’t. Like a leaf fighting a storm, the battle is lost before it even begins. 

Mother died- will die- has died- Sensations and sights and sounds blur together- Happy visits. A bright smile, an answering laugh. Snow. Cold. Sadness. Confusion. Uncle. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Who is he? Where is he? Is he a child? A boy, a man? He is sleeping in his bed. Is there a body next to him, or is he alone? He is in the snow. Is he playing or is he grieving as the flakes fall? 

There is blood. A splinter from a practice sword? Or the blood of the body he just cut down.

He is eating. The same food he’s eaten for years? Or the last of the rations- he’s going to die, they’re going to die, he won’t get the chance to tell him he- Wei Ying is - 

He hears something. A hushed lullaby during sparse visits? Or the screams- the dead- the dying- make it stop- please -

Hummed notes filter through the white noise and discordant sounds of spliced together memories. 

A line of pressure is wrapped around his torso, warmth felt all around him. 

Lips murmuring a song he composed into the crown of his head. 

The memories fade and settle, borders between events becoming clear. A memory from a time before clearly different from his memories of now.

The storm in his heart and mind isn’t completely gone, but feeling is back. The floor is hard and unmoving beneath him. The table cuts white lines into his palms where his hands are clenched around the edge. His outer robe is draped back over his body. Wei Ying is a grounding pressure around his torso and a heated comfort where he hugs him. Arms encircle his body and tuck him close to Wei Ying’s heart. Wei Ying is humming a song- their song - into his hair, the familiar notes grounding him and drawing him back from nightmares yet to happen. 

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan- no- Lan Wangji - whispers, his voice hoarse. Maybe he was crying, maybe he was screaming, maybe he was hyperventilating. He hopes that whatever he was doing, it was quiet, because he isn’t ready to face anyone else but his- but Wei Ying right now.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, the hummed song cutting off.  He moves to sit beside the other boy, but doesn’t stop his contact. “Are you back? Are you my Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji’s heart clenches at the words. Oh, how he wishes for those words to mean something else. “Mn.” He confirms, even as his heart breaks a little. “I can help you now, Wei Ying.” He whispers as the arms around him hug tighter.

"We can talk more tomorrow." Wei Ying murmurs, already moving to put the mess of notes back in his desk.

They move through their nightly routine like normal. Papers are put away. Candles are blown out. Outer robes are folded and put back in their places. Wei Ying climbs into bed first, and Lan Zhan can only stand and stare as his body fights to follow and instinctively hold the other close. He is not a child. 

He is not a child, and yet… 

He climbs into bed and hugs Wei Ying close, as if nothing has changed, when in actuality, everything has changed. 

“I am sorry, Wei Ying.” He whispers after the other is already asleep, and he can’t bring himself to put a name to exactly what he is apologizing for. 

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian expects to wake up alone. Well, not exactly alone, because Lan Zhan would just be all the way on the other side of the bed, but compared to the cuddling he’s fallen asleep and woken up to for nearly two months now, he might as well be alone.

Except he isn’t. An adult, completely aware Lan Zhan, wakes Wei Wuxian the same as he always does every morning: Detangling their limbs and shuffling from the bed to change and get ready for the day. 

Wei Wuxian can’t help but just lay and stare blankly at the ceiling for a few moments. His initial thought when he found out Lan Zhan liked cuddling was that it was a kid thing. Something he grew out of but liked when he was younger because he wasn’t ever a touchy person in public, but craved affection in private. 

But it seems like his guess was wrong. Maybe the cuddling was an adult Lan Zhan thing bleeding through his subconscious. Maybe adult Lan Zhan was the one who secretly liked to cuddle.

Or maybe Lan Zhan is just keeping to routine and Wei Wuxian is being introspective for nothing.

Well. He’d be the last person to ever say he isn’t up for cuddles, so he’ll just pointedly avert his gaze from this gift horse, and move on.

So, on to the agenda for today. They have four months to save Aunty Yue, and now that Lan Zhan is back in action, they need to start planning. Wei Wuxian has a basic outline of steps on how to save her, but he’ll need Lan Zhan if the outline is to be of any help.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian calls. The other boy pauses from where he’s tying up his hair and turns to Wei Wuxian. “We only have four months.” He doesn’t need to say for what. “Let’s plan everyday after meditation. We can implement whatever we come up with throughout the day, and plan more after dinner.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan nods and finishes his hair, heading for the door without looking back.

Wei Wuxian blinks before scrambling to fix his own hair. “What-? Lan Zhan! Wait for me!”

-----

The morning passes at a crawl. Wei Wuxian gets a warning from Uncle that day during meditation. No matter how hard he tries to stay still, he can’t help but fidget. His mind is busier than ever, but no matter how much he sorts through his plans and puts all his facts straight, his body decides it needs more of an outlet today: Hence, the fidgeting. When meditation is finally over he’s on his feet and heading back to the Jingshi in the space between one blink and the next. Uncle doesn’t reprimand him, because he isn’t running, but he’s sure to be questioned on it later; Preferably when he isn’t a fidgety, nervous mess.

He knows he shouldn’t be nervous. It’s only Lan Zhan, and there isn’t really much he can do today besides getting Lan Zhan caught up with his plans and seeing if Lan Zhan has any information from the future about Aunty Yue’s death. 

But the thing is, he’s not really nervous about Lan Zhan or even the meeting itself. He’s more nervous and anxious about what this meeting represents. 

From this meeting forward, they have just under four months to save Aunty Yue. And they have to act like five year olds while they do it. Sure, they could blow their cover if there’s no other option, but then any future plans would be out the window.

If their enemies find out, they’re dead, and since Wei Wuxian still hasn’t figured out how they were sent back in the first place, it's safe to say they’re not getting any more do-overs.

If their allies find out who they really are, it’s a gamble as to whether that particular relationship will strengthen or weaken, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t fancy gambling when the odds are against him.

If Aunty Yue is going to die, and they have no other choice, they will do whatever it takes to save her, even if they have to destroy their own futures in the process.

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian feels a hand in the back of his robes, keeping him from walking face first into the Jingshi’s front door. 

Wei Wuxian chuckles nervously. “Haha, Lan Zhan, thanks for the save.” He attempts to walk into the Jingshi and start the planning, but five year old Lan Zhan apparently has the trademark Lan arm strength already.

“Something wrong?”

“Nope!” He answers too quickly. “Absolutely peachy.” He inwardly cringes. When did he get this bad at lying? He fooled the entire cultivation world into thinking he had a core for nearly five years, but he can’t come up with a believable lie when it's just him and Lan Zhan? 

Lan Zhan just gives him The Look, seeing through his bullshit before all the words even leave his mouth. Wei Wuxian sighs, and the grip on his robes disappears. 

He motions for Lan Zhan to follow as he opens the Jingshi door. He stays quiet as he enters and beelines for the desk, grabbing the necessary notes. He knows Lan Zhan wants an explanation, but he also knows Lan Zhan won’t push. So he stays silent, and grabs notes, blank paper, brushes and ink, and arranges it all neatly at the low table in the middle of the room. 

Finally, when everything is set in place and Wei Wuxian has nothing else to stall with, he speaks. “I’m nervous- wait, not nervous." He backtracks. "More like anxious- or maybe scared? Well, whatever it is, I’m feeling stressed out by this.” He waves his hand in some nebulous way to try and encompass the whole situation they’re in. Throughout his explanation Lan Zhan stays quiet, but his expression makes it clear that he already understood that Wei Wuxian was feeling stressed, but wants to know why .

“It’s just- This makes it real, doesn’t it?” Wei Wuxian says. “Like, before, it was just me- And I’m not blaming you, don’t worry.” He adds, after Lan Zhan’s expression shutters. “But it was just me, and just my notes and knowledge, and I would talk to her once a week, and-” Lan Zhan makes a face. Oh, right, secret meetings. Lan Zhan doesn’t know about those yet. “Well, I’ve been meeting your mom once a week during the night to talk with her, and let me tell you, she’s like my favorite Lan ever- besides you of course, no need to be jealous, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian adds on the tease, and can’t help but be disappointed in the deadpan expression Lan Zhan sends back, like ‘Why would I be jealous? She’s my favorite Lan, too.’.

“But back on track. Now that I have you helping me, it isn’t all just hypothetical anymore. The stuff I’ve come up with will really happen, and we’ll really be getting ready for some of the scenarios I’ve thought up, and at the end, after we really do this, if nothing works, and we’re not strong enough, or quick enough, or smart enough, someone we both care about will really die, and they probably won’t get a second chance like we did.” He sighs and waves his hand, as if to dispel the thought of Aunty Yue dying. “And after this, we need to figure out how we time traveled and why.” He sighs again, longer this time. “And after all that, we can just have a normal, fun childhood.” He pauses. “Hopefully.”

Lan Zhan picks up a few of his notes, drawing him back to the matter at hand. “Oh, right. Planning.” He picks up a few select notes, mostly ideas of possible ways Aunty Yue could die, and starts talking. “So, I have a few ideas for how she could have died, but I want to hear from you first. Did the Elders say anything about her death? Like a specific cause, or whether it was an accident or something?”

Lan Zhan looks over the notes in front of him before speaking. “They labeled it as a suicide. I came across record of it before the Cloud Recesses burned. They looked odd, but…”

“They burned with the Cloud Recesses, and all you had was one instance of weird looking records.” Wei Wuxian finishes. “So, no solid reason to think foul play about a death that happened a decade ago, especially with no leads. And looking into it would just bring up memories of grief and wouldn’t bring her back.” He perks up and grabs the blank paper and ink. “But that’s a start. I’ve personally met the woman, and I doubt she killed herself, unless someone gave her an ultimatum. Like say…” Wei Wuxian pauses from writing and taps the brush to his chin before pointing it at Lan Zhan. “Her death or her sons’. But then it would be an assassination plot or murder. And it could've been an accident, but then they could have just said that, so I'm definitely leaning more towards murder.” He writes ‘Murder’ at the top of the paper in bold script. 

“So, we’ve narrowed it down to murder. Now all we need is how.” He brings over another blank sheet. “The first things we want to narrow down is stuff like poison and things that take a long time to kill. We need to make sure those things aren’t the killer, and if they are, stopping them sooner rather than later would be ideal.”

“There is a servant that makes and brings her meals.” Lan Zhan says.

“So only one person touches her food?” Wei Wuxian asks. Lan Zhan thinks for a moment before nodding. “And it's the same person every time?” Another nod. “Well, our resources are pretty limited, so we’ll probably just have to shadow them for a day and see if they do anything suspicious to the meals. Is there anyone else that visits her? If she has contact with anyone besides us and Uncle, we’ll need to check for things that transfer through touch, or music that could destabilize her core.”

Anger briefly flashes across Lan Zhan’s features. “She is hidden from the clan. Only the Elders, the servant, and us know about her. The Elders blame her for an Elder’s death, and refuse to have contact with her.”

“Motive.” Wei Wuxian blurts out, and Lan Zhan startles, as if the thought never crossed his mind before. “You said the Elders hate her, right? Then we’ll want to look into who was close to the one that died, and look into the formal records for information on that. Do you know where the records are? You know, for like, the clan’s taxes and records of night hunts and stuff. I imagine they wouldn’t just be in the library for anyone to read.”

“They are in Uncle’s office.” Lan Zhan replies.

“So we’ll need to check there for more records of people who don’t like your mom. Stuff like night hunting incidents- I know she has a core, but she was a cultivator, right? She’s not just a medic or something, right?”

“Mn.”

“So, night hunting incidents, family feuds, previous lovers- Oh don’t make that face, Lan Zhan.” Lan Zhan’s face is scrunched up in disgust. “Jealousy can be a powerful motivator, you know. Just look at what’s his face… Jin Zixun? He practically had jealousy tattooed across his forehead. Jealous of me for being smarter than him, jealous of you for being better looking, jealous at the Peacock for being Sect Heir, you get the point. I know they’re your parents, but we have to do it.” Lan Zhan gives a small nod, and puts no more energy into showing his agreement.

Wei Wuxian thinks that’s enough for the agenda right now, because the furrow between Lan Zhan’s brows is so severe Wei Wuxian is concerned it might stick that way, and counts off on his fingers as he goes over the plan. “So, check the servant, watch them for a day, or at least while they make and bring your mom meals. Look into the Elders. Find out who was close to the dead guy, or just anyone looking shady. Records. Find out everything we can about your parents to find other people who have a motive for murder. We can have another big meeting in, say… a week? With little meetings inbetween to make sure we stay on track. Anything else?” Lan Zhan goes to speak but Wei Wuxian politely cuts him off. “Oh, poison. We’ll need to research a bunch of those so we can cross those off of the ‘Possible Murder Scenarios’ list- and yes, Lan Zhan, I have an actual list with a bunch of those, and I hope no one ever finds it because that would be an awkward conversation for someone pretending to be a five year old.” He tilts his head in thought. “Or, you know, just in case. Poisons are cool, you might need the knowledge later. And we’re pretty defenseless right now. We could get assassinated or something.”

“We are five, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says with a long suffering sigh.

“Yeah, but like, some black clothed dude could break in and throw a plant at us. It would be nice if we knew whether he was trying to poison us or it's just your Uncle trying to scare us into eating radishes.” Wei Wuxian pauses. “And poison us, because radishes are evil. I’m never eating another radish no matter how many lives I get.”

Lan Zhan looks a little confused at Wei Wuxian’s animosity against radishes, but decides not to comment on it. “Uncle will not do that.” He assures. “And the healers are well versed in poisons. We need not fear for our lives.”

“As usual, you’re right, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian agrees. “...But you never know~” He adds with a grin.

“Wei Ying, no.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

It’s been four days since they’d put their plan into action. They’d managed, between the two of them, to shadow the servant at every meal on the first day. No signs of tampering or foul play was found. 

Presently, Wei Wuxian is holed up in one of the private rooms of the library looking up poisons. Lan Zhan is looking into the backgrounds of the Elders in between Uncle’s meetings. When it comes time to look into Lan Zhan’s parent’s backgrounds, Wei Wuxian will take over the research with Lan Zhan doubling as a guard to make sure Uncle doesn’t return early, and a sounding board. No one knows Aunty Yue and her husband as well as Lan Zhan, afterall.

Poisons have been a lot more interesting than he first thought. He definitely wouldn’t become a healer or anything, but all the reading and names and facts have been surprisingly easy to learn. 

Some of the plants he learned about were harmless in small amounts, and used as tea or perfume, and some were even medicinal if used right. Others were poisonous no matter how you cooked it, or cut it, or treated it. There was even this one plant that could kill a non-cultivator if you ate even a single berry. 

He also surprisingly learned about a lot of animals. You would think that animals and humans would be affected the same way by plants like these, but that would be absolutely wrong. Some of the less deadly plants that would be toxic to humans in larger amounts are gobbled down by animals by the wagonload without even batting an eye. 

Wei Wuxian is reading about a type of ivy that causes rashes when the bell tolls, signaling a new hour and the start of lunch. He picks up the books and carefully puts them back in their places. He then grabs his notes, makes sure the ink is dry, rolls them up, and shoves them up his sleeves. He can put them away in the Jingshi after he grabs his lunch.

He follows the scattered group of people headed to the banquet hall, but instead of entering, he goes around to the back where the kitchens are. The nice aunties there know the routine by now, and inform him that Lan Zhan has already gotten his food as they hand him his bowl and a cup of his preferred tea. Like usual, he tells them they don’t have to brew him tea, their job only stipulates that they cook everyone’s food, not personally brew anyone’s tea, but they brush it off with a pat to his head and, much to his surprise, two candies tucked into his sleeve, luckily the one not holding his notes.

“We’ve had quite a few births in recent years.” An aunty barely three heads taller than he is, who simply calls herself Bai, explains. 

Wei Wuxian always calls her ‘Aunty Bai’, or ‘Big Sis Bai’, but she always brushes him off; ‘I have wrinkles down to my toes. I’m too old for ‘big sister’ and you’re a Young Master. Just ‘Bai’ is fine.’ .

Wei Wuxian counters with, ‘I’m not a Young Master, just Lan Zhan’s friend.’ . Aunty Bai raises an eyebrow and just hands him his food and tea with a pat on the head like she always does.

Not surprisingly, Wei Wuxian insists on a title, and they haven’t come to an agreement even weeks later.

“More births means more children.” Aunty Bai continues explaining. “So us old coots in the kitchen have tried to make candies and other sweets.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “Not many of us are any good. Pastries are simple, but candy? Something different entirely. And I’m sure you know that Master Lan wouldn’t give us a budget for this.” She sighs again before smiling. “So give it a try with the Second Young Master, would you? If they’re any good, just pop in before dinner and I’ll give you a few more. If not, then pop in anyway and I’ll give you some lotus cakes instead. Now run along! Second Young Master’ll probably get grey hair if you make him wait any longer!”

She gives him a hearty pat on the back to get him going, which doesn’t bode well with his weak body and makes him yelp. The old traitor just laughs as he almost spills his soup and shoos him away again. 

He quickly walks off, not wanting anymore pats that shouldn't be possible from someone as old as Aunty Bai. Before he’s out of sight, he turns and sticks his tongue out at her. He doesn’t bother watching any longer as soft laughter follows after him.

-----

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian announces as he uses his foot to maneuver the Jingshi door open. “How was research?” He adds as he sets his food and drink down on the table. He takes the candies out of his sleeve and hands Lan Zhan one while popping the other into his mouth. It tastes good, but melts away almost immediately. For a first try, it’s not half bad.

Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow, setting the candy aside, and makes a small gesture with his soup-filled spoon that’s held halfway to his lips. “Right!” Wei Wuxian says, picking up his own spoon to eat. “No talking while eating.” He recites between bites. Not a second later: “Wait, I’m eating- Shit, I’m talking- Sorry for cursing-” He snaps his mouth shut, his face bright red. So much for attempting to grow up as a Lan. Lan Zhan, the traitor, has a small smile on his face, and is angled away from his food in an attempt to hide how amusing he finds the whole situation.

Wei Wuxian pouts and makes a show out of finishing his food and tea. When both bowl and cup are empty he uses comically exaggerated gestures to stack his dishes on a tray for the servants to pick up and take back to the kitchen. When all that’s done, he opens his mouth, and when Lan Zhan doesn’t do anything but take a sip of tea, Wei Wuxian speaks.

“So, I’ve looked through most of the library’s books on poison by now. Unless we find proof of poisoning and clues, I think general knowledge is about all we’re gonna get out of looking into poisons.”

Lan Zhan hums, setting his spoon into his empty bowl and putting it on the tray. He still has tea, and has just finished eating the candy with a contemplative hum, but he’s technically done ‘eating’. He sets his tea down after taking a sip and takes his notes out of his sleeve. “The Elders are… clean.” He furrows his eyebrows at the last word.

Wei Wuxian sits up straighter. “What do you mean?”

Lan Zhan spreads his notes out over the table. On the papers are names and information written under the names. Some names have more information than others. Lan Zhan moves one paper in particular to the front. The very first name is Minsheng. “Elder Minsheng was Father’s Master. He was the one killed.” Lan Zhan moves to the next name on the list. This one isn’t listed as an Elder, but must have some significance if it was added to the list. “Mao Fenfang is set to be promoted to Elder when she reaches age 40. Elders are cultivators, but they do not leave the Cloud Recesses unless for emergencies.”

Wei Wuxian wonders where Lan Zhan is going with this. “So, what does she have to do with this?”

Lan Zhan holds up a hand to silence further questions as he continues. “All children receive the same training until age 15. At age 15, children with certain talents and clan positioning are chosen to be trained as Elders. Elders are trained from age 15 to age 40 to serve the clan and Sect Leader. They are forbidden from marrying or having children for it would split their loyalties between their family and clan. They are promoted at age 40 to the position of Elder, and serve until their death.” Lan Zhan pauses and takes a breath. “Mao Fenfang did not start her training until age 26.”

“What?” Wei Wuxian says, doing a few startled blinks. “But that’s way older than 15.” He rests his chin on his hand. “Can people do that? Be chosen later than 15, I mean.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “There have been no exceptions but her. I will need more time to find out why.” He sighs. “I could not find any other points of interest besides her.”

Wei Wuxian nods as he sorts through some of Lan Zhan’s notes. There are 47 names. There’s Mao Fenfang, six Elders who have died in the last 15 or so years, five from old age and one from qi deviation, and the 40 names of current Elders. “I think we can start looking into your parents tomorrow. Mao Fenfang is about as old as your parents, so they must have trained together as kids.” He looks to Lan Zhan. “Keep your Uncle busy and warn me when his meetings end. Otherwise, I should be good on my own. I might need your help sorting through events or looking for suspicious notes or dates, but that’s it. I’ll compile what I find and present it in a few days, okay?” 

Lan Zhan nods, and not a moment later, the bell tolls. It’s time for calligraphy. 

Wei Wuxian grins. “Ready to be stuck making our tea for dinner?”

Lan Zhan raises a delicate brow. “My calligraphy is not the one with imprecise lines. I do not believe it will be me making our tea.” 

Wei Wuxian gives an undignified squawk. “Lan Zhan!”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

They end up having to wait a day before Wei Wuxian can sneak into Uncle’s office for long periods of time. They still have lessons, so it's a delicate art, and usually takes a few days of sneaking in and out and back in before they find what they are looking for. 

This time, the delay is because Uncle set aside a day for just office work and a few short meetings. Obviously, he couldn’t sneak in with the man sitting right at his desk, and the meetings were so short- Lan Zhan informed him they were brief check-ins to some of the clan’s inner workings and quick checks with some of the merchants from Caiyi town- That Wei Wuxian lacked the time to even take any stuff from the packed shelves of the room before he was scrambling to put everything back again. They only tried that twice before they called it a day. 

Uncle has been extra busy as of late, which is why today is a perfect day for research. All of Wei Wuxian’s breaks are lined up with Uncle’s meetings, which means he has literally as much time as he’s ever going to get to look into Lan Zhan’s parents.

The first thing he does is look more deeply into Mao Fenfang. Lan Zhan had to look up nearly 50 different people, so it's not that he doesn’t trust Lan Zhan, because he does, but it's likely that Lan Zhan overlooked something in his scramble to look up 50 different people while trying not to get caught.

He looks up the basic stuff first, just to get a feel of what kind of person she is. He exits the office carefully and goes next door, to the archive room, and looks up Mao Fenfang’s name. 

He startles a little when he finds an entire tiny section on her. It turns out that Elders and Elders-in-training are closely watched and documented, which helps their research, but doesn’t help when they are limited on time. Most of the stuff is tests scores and written notes by her Master about her progress. 

He decides to look into her family first, and breathes a sigh of relief when he finds only a few pages. 

Her records state she was adopted by the Mao Clan Head as an infant. The Mao Clan Head is unmarried, which explains the adoption. Wei Wuxian initially questions why a Clan Heir would become the Elder for another clan, because it's clear by the records that the Mao Clan Leader has no other children, but a deeper look into the records show that the Mao Clan has had many members become Lan Elders. It must be because of some long ago agreement, like ‘You serve our clan and we’ll protect you.’, or something. There are even three current Elders that come from the Mao Clan. 

Her childhood and family life look pretty normal. Raised as a cultivator, taken to the Lan Clan to train after age 15, and then there’s her sudden change to being an Elder at 26.

He looks through some of her personal reports of night hunts around that age, but besides stopping abruptly, which is understandable, as Elders can’t night hunt, there’s nothing important enough to warrant her change to being an Elder.

No one died, no one was hurt, she didn’t get an injury or ailment, her life was boring, but seemed fulfilling enough. There’s just nothing. 

At a dead end with Mao Fenfang, he decides to switch to the people he came here for in the first place. 

He finds the ‘current’ Sect Leader easy enough. Birth name: Lan Shanyuan. He’s the first son of the former Sect Leader and Madam Lan. They had their first child when they were older, and Uncle two years after. They both died within a few months of each other a few years ago from complications with old age. They had moved off clan lands by then, and their funerals were quiet and only for family.

That date of their funerals is also marked as one of the few dates Qingheng-Jun left his self imposed seclusion. He left for his mother’s and father’s funerals, the births of his two children, and a few random dates that could either be unannounced visits for tea with his wife, or the conception of his children. Wei Wuxian quickly skims over the rest of the dates and resolutely ignores those few specific ones.

There’s nothing else of interest in Qingheng-Jun’s section. He’s like Mao Fenfang in that most of his section is stuff from when he was being trained to take on his future role. 

With Qingheng-Jun out of the way, he moves on to Aunty Yue.

Except that he can’t find her section. With a puzzled expression, he thoroughly searches the spaces around her husband. Nothing.

Maybe they have a separate section for spouses? He looks deeper into the archives, and while he does find a section detailing the marriages of women from subsidiaries of the Lan Sect to members of the Clan, there’s no Aunty Yue.

She was a cultivator, so she must have written up at least a few night hunting reports, right? He goes to a separate section of the archives and searches through the night hunting reports, looking in the relevant dates for one written by Aunty Yue. Absolutely nothing.

Okay, Wei Wuxian , he thinks to himself. Take a step back. What do you know and what are you missing?

Aunty Yue is married to Qingheng-Jun and they have two kids, so it's not like her entire existence is hidden. If that was the case, then the Clan would probably hide the fact that Qingheng-Jun is married and find some convoluted way to explain the kids. 

Which means her existence is known, but her identity is not. Lan Zhan has said that the Elders hate her, and that her family, a servant, and the Elders are the only ones who know who and where she is.

And she’s obviously mentioned in Qingheng-Jun’s section-

Ah. Another clue.

Now that he’s putting all the facts together like this, Aunty Yue was never mentioned by name in Qingheng-Jun’s section. It always referred to her as ‘Madam Lan’, and called her home ‘The Gentian Cottage’. It never said her name, never mentioned her family, and never said where exactly her home was, even if it was implied to be outside of Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian knows for a fact that that’s a lie.

He sighs and starts to put all the papers and scrolls he looked at back in their places. He’ll need to meet back up with Lan Zhan and brainstorm where her section could have gone.

As if summoned, the little Lan he’s looking for appears at the door and sends him a look. Uncle must be getting back from his meetings soon. 

Looking for Aunty Yue’s records is top priority, but Wei Wuxian has a feeling that finding them might take awhile. 

So in the meantime… 

Maybe they can pay a visit to Mao Fenfang’s personal quarters. Call it intuition, but he has a feeling that the reason behind her sudden Elder-in-training promotion will solve a huge chunk of this mystery.

Clan records and personally kept diaries and letters are a lot different after all. 

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian has just solved an age-old question: How long does it take to make a friend, and similarly, how long does it take to be invited to their quarters? The answer happens to be a week and two days. Wei Wuxian credits the short time to his peerless charm and boundless amounts of charisma.

Which is why Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan are now following their newest friend, Yingtai, back to the quarters she shares with her mother and younger sister. Yingtai wasn’t by any means hard to befriend, and even though the friendship was formed for purely selfish reasons, Wei Wuxian is sure they’ll stay friends for a long time. She was a little shy at first, but soon enough she opened up, and now asks Lan Zhan for help with calligraphy on occasion.

As for the reason they are going on a playdate and not investigating… well. It’s because they’re one and the same. 

This playdate gets them a few hours of access to the women’s quarters. The woman’s quarters is where Mao Fenfang lives. They didn’t just choose Yingtai randomly. Families would usually live in a separate part of the Cloud Recesses, but if wives lose their husbands to sickness, accident, or more commonly, night hunts, they are allowed to move back to the women’s quarters with their children if their children are below a certain age.

Yingtai’s father died three years ago, so all it took was a quick check in the archives to find out where she lived, and a week and two days later, boom. A reason to enter the women’s quarters and a few hours of free time to investigate Mao Fenfang.

Yingtai stops in front of a door, bringing Wei Wuxian back to the present. The stop is only brief though, Yingtai simply looks back to see if her two friends are still following, and she opens the door and steps inside with an, “I’m home, Mama!”

Yingtai steps into the small apartment without waiting for a call back, prompting Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan to follow after her. The room they enter is a small dining room, with a wood burning stove off to one side (Currently not burning, but most likely used at night to stave off the coming autumn chill.), and a few cushions on the other side of the room surrounding a low table, making a small sitting area. 

A woman on the shorter side with a baby on her hip enters the dining room through a door that presumably leads to a bedroom.

“Welcome home, A-Ying- oh! Who are your friends?” The woman, Yingtai’s mother, wears a bright smile, and is a ball of energy, seemingly not hindered in the least by raising two children by herself. The complete opposite of her shy and polite daughter.

“Lan Zhan and Wei Ying.” Yingtai answers back in the same calm and quiet voice she uses around Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan. 

“Lan Zhan?” The woman questions. “Like, Second Young Master Lan, Lan Zhan?”

Yingtai looks a little confused, sharing a quick look with Lan Zhan before answering, “Yes?”

“Oh gods.” The woman says looking startled, dazed, and flustered at the same time. “I've had future Elders over, but Young Masters?” She mumbles. She slowly turns her attention to Wei Wuxian. “Which means you are… Oh gods.” She finishes dumbly. In a complete 180, she suddenly perks up with a wide smile and says. “A-Ying, make tea. Second Young Master Lan, do you want tea, or some snacks, oh, and you, Young Master Wei, what would you like?” Her smile is now so wide that her eyes are closed. 

Her expression looks awkward and her movements are stilted and she seems to be slowly encroaching on Lan Zhan’s space, so Wei Wuxian sweeps in and says, “We don’t need tea, uh… Mrs. Zhu.”

Mrs. Zhu blinks blankly. “You don’t?”

“We just came to play with Yingtai, so we don’t need tea…” He shares a quick look with Lan Zhan and their friend, who is looking a little embarrassed by her mother’s antics. “But snacks might be nice.” He smiles.

-----

Snacks in hand, Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan, and Yingtai leave the apartment with Mrs. Zhu standing in the doorway waving goodbye. 

Yingtai nibbles on her snack cake like a little bunny, making Wei Wuxian inwardly squeal. Lan Zhan takes similarly small bites, but looks more dignified despite the cake dwarfing his hands and crumbs dotting his chubby cheeks.

And Wei Wuxian is so busy stuffing his face and observing his friends that he bumps into the woman next door as she exits her apartment. He mumbles a quick apology and carries on, but freezes at Mrs. Zhu’s words.

“I’m sorry Sister Fenfang! I should have had them sit down and finish eating!” Mrs. Zhu laughs. 

“Mao Fenfang?” Wei Wuxian questions Lan Zhan, but ‘Sister Fenfang’ manages to catch the words.

“Oh! Have you heard of me?” Mao Fenfang crouches to be at eye level with Wei Wuxian. Her records say she’s 34, but Wei Wuxian’s quick glance doesn’t agree with that assessment. She looks at least a few years younger, if not in her mid-twenties. She has long, brown, curly, hair that is pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes are a light brown, a shade darker than Lan Xichen’s, but lighter than Aunty Yue’s.

She doesn’t act fully like an adult either. Her voice is light, and her words are informal. If you asked Wei Wuxian to describe the Lan Elders, they would all be craggly old women and hunched over old men, not… a girl in a woman’s body with enough charisma to rival Wei Wuxian in friendliness. 

“So you must have heard of me from your parents, right?” Mao Fenfang says, oblivious to Wei Wuxian’s scrutinizing eyes. She taps her chin with one of the scrolls she has clutched in her arms. “I went night hunting with them and A-Shan a few times, but I didn’t think I made that much of an impression…” She mumbles. “But oh well.” She stands and more securely gathers the scrolls in her arms. “No reason to worry about it now.” She turns to Mrs. Zhu. “Well! I’m off to class! I’ll be back in an hour to watch the little ones so you can have tea with Miss Tang and Mrs. Su.”

“It’s fine!” Mrs. Zhu assures. “Just get to class! It starts in five minutes doesn’t it?” She adds on with an amused grin.

“Five minutes?!” Mao Fenfang squeaks, leaving without another word at a pace just slow enough that she won’t be breaking rules, but not by any means a calm walk. 

Mrs. Zhu just shakes her head and goes back inside leaving Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan, and Yingtai out on the cobbled path.

“Hey, Yingtai.” Wei Wuxian decides to break the silence. “Wanna play hide and seek?”

Yingtai, who loves hide and seek because it’s a game of being quiet, patient, and calm, perks up. “Hide and seek!” She happily squeals with a smile.

“You and Lan Zhan can hide first.” Wei Wuxian says, turning to face the wall. “Ready?” He calls behind him. He hears a hum from Lan Zhan and another excited squeal from Yingtai. “One… two… three… four…” He counts to ten to give ample time for Yingtai to be gone before he drops the charade and turns to Lan Zhan, who has walked a few steps, but is still behind him. 

“Found you.” Wei Wuxian jokes. “And how convenient.” He continues, a grin on his face. “We both know how good Yingtai is at hide and seek… so why don’t we wait for Mao Fenfang to get back so she can help us.” 

“It would be much easier to find Zhu Yingtai if we had help.” Lan Zhan says with a nod, resigning himself to following along with Wei Wuxian's antics.

“So now that we have an hour to waste…” Wei Wuxian muses, an amused glint in his eyes. “Why don’t we have a look around.”

With a quick glance to the path around them and the surrounding apartments, Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan silently slide open the door to Mao Fenfang’s apartment and slip inside.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

As Wei Wuxian shuts the door behind himself and his companion, he takes in the room. It’s much the same size as the apartment where Yingtai lives, with a main room split into a few different parts, and then a room off to the side used as a bedroom.

Wei Wuxian turns to Lan Zhan. “Hey, Lan Zhan, how about you take the bedroom-” On second thought, even if Lan Zhan is helping him snoop like this, digging through the bedroom of a complete stranger might be pushing it a little. “Nevermind, I’ll take the bedroom.” He revises. “You can take the main room.” Lan Zhan nods, and with that, they separate, with Lan Zhan’s internal clock (A Lan’s daily routine is so ingrained in their system, even in the children, that you could ask one for the time, and they could probably tell you with startling accuracy.) making sure they aren’t surprised by Mao Fenfang in the midst of their search. 

Wei Wuxian enters the bedroom and takes a look around first. There's a wardrobe and a small window showing the forest on one wall. A bed, a nightstand, and a desk are on another wall. The third wall has a bookcase filled to the brim with books, scrolls, and loose papers, and a low table in front of it with a single cushion. The wall with the door has nothing on or near it except a single painting.

The painting looks like something he himself would be able to do, but on second glance he notices something… odd? Uncommon? Whatever the word is, the one thing that stands out is the subtle use of color. The painting is of a waterfall and small pool deep in the forest. The painting looks to be done during the day, and no doubt in spring or summer, if the warmness of the colors is any indication. Even with the slightly yellowed paper, marking the painting at around a decade old, Wei Wuxian can tell it's a masterful and beautiful piece.

Instead of the usual or more common paintings that only use black ink and maybe a few hints of easy-to-make dyes for contrast, this painting has black ink for the lines, varying in thickness from the width of his finger to the point of a needle, with splashes of color from dyes that must cost a small fortune, or were handmade by a true master of the craft with access to the best materials. It also, weirdly, remains unsigned. Either the artist deliberately doesn’t sign his works, it was a gift from someone close, with no need to be signed or fear of credit being stolen, or Mao Fenfang herself did the piece.

He’s not one to judge a book by its cover, but he doesn’t peg Mao Fenfang as the type to be rich, patient, or skilled enough to personally paint this piece.

But enough of the painting. What’s important right now is finding some of Mao Fenfang’s personal writing. Letters, diaries, reports somehow not in the archives, those kinds of things. And if he doesn’t find any writing, he’ll start looking through her trinkets for clues. 

He searches the wardrobe first, mainly the very bottom and the very top. He finds no hidden shelves or compartments at the top, so he checks the bottom, carefully tapping and listening for any hollow pieces. When the wood echoes back solid, he carefully smooths over any clothes that were rustled and closes the wardrobe. Apparently Mao Fenfang isn’t the type of person to hide things in her closet.

(Really? Nothing in the closet? Wei Wuxian isn't the secretive type, but hiding things in a box in the closet, or in a false bottom, is like, Hiding Things 101. In his early teens, he himself kept a carefully concealed box in the bottom of his wardrobe of his favorite erotica from what Jiang Cheng and him could acquire from the hidden sections of bookstores in Lotus Pier. (He wouldn’t expect a Lan (Lan by association) to hide porn in their closet, but still, same idea.))

He gives the bookshelf nothing but a quick and thorough once over, because he doesn’t have time to peruse through every book, and because of his friendship with Yingtai, it’ll be entirely possible to come back again and dedicate a whole trip to the bookshelf with Lan Zhan helping him. 

On the low table by the bookshelf are a few scattered notes, but they pertain to the woman’s classes and aren’t what he’s looking for. 

Next is the desk. He finds more notes for her classes, a few cultivation books open for reference, and a single half finished letter to her father. He thinks he’s struck gold until he actually starts reading, and then wonders why he thought that someone who’s giving over the rest of their to the Lan Clan would have interesting letters. She writes about classes, (Understandable, because it's probably the only interesting thing she does these days.) and babysitting the local Sisters’ kids, (If Wei Wuxian was babysitting a bunch of baby Lan Zhans, he would write home about it, too.) and the great food, (Ummmm, what? Is she eating the same food he is, because he has many words to describe the food at Cloud Recesses, and ‘great’ is not one of them.) and how she will visit during the days off in classes this coming week. (Wei Wuxian will have to find out when those are and mark them down as Exploring Mao Fenfang’s Bookcase days.)

After a quick check under the mattress, which leaves him just as disappointed as the wardrobe, he stands resolutely in front of the nightstand. He’d expected all of her personal stuff to be here, so he deliberately looked last. He would have been delighted to be proven wrong, by finding a secret compartment, or a warded box, or coded letters, but it seems the Lans are as boring in this as everything else. 

(Wei Wuxian might have hidden incriminating pages of notes in his personal desk, but he at least had the sense to upgrade the wards of the Jingshi before he did so. (Upgrading wards takes no additional spiritual energy, and anyone who tells you it does is an idiot. Unless you completely take down and remake the wards, (he didn’t) or add in more extra effects than the initial energy reserve of the wards can sustain, (he didn’t) the wards can be changed or upgraded without the use of any spiritual energy at all. He knows, he’s a genius, no need for all the praise.))

The nightstand has two drawers and a few papers on top. The papers on top are letters from her father, ones that are probably already read, and after a quick once over, contain the same kind of stuff Mao Fenfang’s letter do. 

The first drawer, in and of itself, is more valuable information-wise, than the whole room he searched through previously, combined. 

At the front of the drawer is a stack of drawings held together with twine. They look to be by the same artist who did the painting, and come in many different states of doneness.

Some are just like the painting, with color and various thicknesses to the lines, while others can barely be called sketches. The focus of the drawings also vary. Some are of nature. A sprawling, ancient tree, snow capped mountains, raging rivers, and a quiet glade. Others are of people. Scenes of crowded markets, people shouting their wares, a mother and her child sitting in a clearing making flower crowns, a woman with the air of an immortal with various birds, both earthly and mythical, surrounding her like an exotic flower garden. The architecture pieces are fewer, but no less masterful. The Library Pavilion, Caiyi, and a miscellaneous piece overlooking Cloud Recesses.  

While the drawings are nice, they are also a clue. Mao Fenfang has both finished and unfinished drawings from this person, and since they are all the same size on just normal, standard paper, it means she got them personally from the artist, who was probably a friend or someone close to her. Wei Wuxian, himself being an artist, has only given away his works to a few people, all people close to him. He wouldn’t give away half finished sketches or unsigned works to just anyone on the streets. 

Next to the stack of drawings is a stack of letters, all from Mao Fenfang’s father. There’s too many to read every one, so he just glances at them. They all say the same stuff, so he mentally adds them to the agenda for the Bookcase Trip so they have more time to look in depth at them.

At the back of the drawer are a few miscellaneous objects. A comb, spare ribbon for her hair, and needle and thread, to name a few.

And with the top drawer completely explored, that only leaves…

Wei Wuxian’s gaze finds the last place he has left to look in all of Mao Fenfang’s room. The bottom drawer of her nightstand. 

He grabs the knob with anticipation thrumming through his veins and slowly pulls the drawer open. 

The drawer opens to reveal… 

A book.

Wei Wuxian looks closer, a grin splitting his face.

“Not just any book,” He hums, holding the leather bound pages in his hands. 

“A diary.”

Chapter Text

Mao Fenfang

Today is my tenth birthday. A birthday is always exciting, but the tenth one is extra special to cultivators because… 

-----

It is a pleasant day in spring when Mao Fenfang’s tenth birthday arrives. Her clan is small, but she thinks that just heightens the excitement for the day. She could call every disciple, servant, and Elder by name, which just made it seem like she had one huge family. 

Outside in the main courtyard, a large group is gathered, where the highest disciples and the most common of servants freely mingle, for what matters more than their precious Young Mistress' tenth birthday? Definitely not their standing in the clan.

Mao Fenfang, while calm and composed on the outside, kneeling perfectly and the very image of an elegant and beautiful young lady, is a ball of barely contained energy on the inside. It takes every fiber of her self control to keep from breaking out into a grin and whooping with joy.

It’s her tenth birthday, but it’s also the day she is going to be gifted with her lifelong partner, her protector and most precious friend; Her spiritual sword!

Ten years old has proven to be the ideal age for cultivators to get their swords. Their bodies are developed enough physically to handle the weight of a full sized metal sword, and their cores are strong enough to both wield the sword, and take some of the strain off of their still growing bodies. 

Most cultivators have to wait until a few months after their tenth birthday to receive their sword, though, because most of the time kids are too close to that fine line between ready and not to be able to tell months in advance, and having a sword made or taken from the treasury isn’t an instantaneous process. 

Having a spiritual sword made takes months. You have to find just the right smith, coordinate what type of sword to be made (whether the sword is for a girl or boy, whether to make it lighter, with an emphasis on speed, or heavier, with an emphasis on power, how strong the person’s core is, to know what the person can and can’t handle, and a whole lot more.), and work in tandem with a carpenter if the sheath is going to be more simple and just made of wood, or another special artisan if the sheath is going to be a mix of wood and metal that requires a master of a very specific craft. In short, making a sword requires money, time, and lots of coordination and planning. 

And then there’s names. Mao Fenfang has a sword being made for her, which means she will be the first person ever wielding it. So naturally, the sword starts out unnamed. Finding just the right name for your sword can take months or years. 

(Wei Wuxian laughs at this part, because when Uncle Jiang asked him what he wanted to name his sword, he had just offhandedly said “Whatever.” and promptly forgot the exchange. So when Uncle Jiang had handed him his sword months later with barely concealed laughter, Wei Wuxian was monumentally confused until he had spied the name of his sword engraved on the sheath. Suibian . Literally, ‘Whatever’. Both him and Uncle Jiang had then burst out laughing. Madam Yu had made him sit in the ancestral hall for a week and made him clean the south pier with only a bucket and a brush, and Uncle Jiang had been banished to the servants’ table to eat breakfast for two weeks. Suffice to say, Madam Yu hadn't found the name half as funny as him and Uncle Jiang did.)

Mao Fenfang hadn’t put much thought into what her sword was going to be named until recently. Just a few months ago, it just kind of hit her that she was really getting a sword, so she spent the first month or two panicking, not even knowing where to look for a good name, and then she had forced herself to calm down, think of what kind of name she wanted, and then it was crunch time. Some people have names already picked out by the time the sheath is made, and have it engraved before the sword is presented, while others spend every last second picking a name, formally calingl the sword’s name for the first time during the gifting ceremony, and then have it engraved in the sheath later. Mao Fenfang falls into the latter group.

Swords have spirits, and as such have personalities. By making a sword, you guarantee that your sword will like the temper of your spiritual energy. If a sword spirit is powerful enough, and if their master dies a death that leaves them with lingering resentment, the sword will seal itself, either forever, or until some of their resentment towards the world wears off, and they seek out another master.

All cultivators have spiritual energy, but no two cultivators have the same spiritual signature. Cultivators with weak or average cores, or common tempered spiritual energy, are less likely to have their swords sealed after their death. Swords are only as strong as their masters, so a weak core means a weak sword spirit. And the younger the sword, the more likely it is to be weak, and so the chances of sealing are very low. It truly is a rare phenomenon for a young sword to seal itself, because it shows just how loyal the sword is, and just how great of a master the cultivator was.

The second way to get a sword is by pulling one from the display hall or treasury. The display hall houses sealed swords from various common cultivators, and are usually a few hundred years old, having been through many different masters. These swords are put on display for all the clan to see, and are used for teaching children about spiritual swords and for lessons on the swords’ masters’ lives. They are also put more publicly, because one usually unseals about every few decades, and it can then be given to a cultivator.

The treasury on the other hand, is for sealed swords from particularly powerful cultivators, or from people like Sect Leaders or high ranking Elders. These swords are very powerful, valuable, and usually stay sealed for the entirety of the sword’s life. After about 1000 years of sealing, the sword spirit becomes so weak it withers away and can no longer keep the sword in pristine condition, so the sword is given a cleansing ceremony, and prayers are made for both the spirit and the sword’s master or masters.

But enough about swords. It’s Mao Fenfang’s tenth birthday, and her core was ready for a sword a few months before the date, and with none of the clan's sealed swords ready for a new master, the logical next step was her father getting a sword made, and for it to be officially given to her on her birthday.

She hears the gathered crowd hush, and looks up to see her father approaching with her new sword. The sword lays reverently balanced between his hands, and is covered in a white cloth, obscuring it from her view.

“Mao Fenfang.” Her father, Mao Shao, says as he kneels opposite her, the sword cradled in his hands.

“Yes, Clan Leader.” She says as she bows, because today this is not her father, this is her Clan Leader, and she is the Clan Heir.

“You have reached the age of ten,” Her Clan Leader states. “And your core has become strong enough for you to graduate to the next level of cultivation. I present to you a sword crafted by the Mao Clan’s most skilled blacksmith, using only the purest and strongest of metals for your blade.” He says as Mao Fenfang reaches out, the sword now being held by both her and her Clan Leader. The man looks her meaningfully in the eye, and she meets his stare unflinchingly. Let it be known that she may be a woman, but her spine is made of the same steel as any man’s. She may be scatterbrained, but she knows when it’s time to be serious. “Do you swear to use this sword with pride, and to never let it’s edge meet anything but evil?”

“I swear.” Mao Fenfang says with conviction, and the sword is now resting solely in her hands.

Her Clan Leader nods, and with a hidden smile says, “What is it’s name?”

She lowers the sword to her lap and removes the cloth, and barely restrains a gasp, because just the sheath itself is beautiful . 

It’s wood and painted the same soft lavender as her clan’s robes, lacquered to a glossy finish. A metal plate, which she identifies to be silver, shaped like a lotus flower cradles the bottom of the sheath between its petals. The top of the sheath, near the handle, has a ring of silver between the sheath and the handle that gradually turns into falling petals that dot the top few inches of the sheath. 

The hilt draws her eye next. It’s the same wood colored purple with a glossy shine to it. There's a ring of silver at the beginning of the hilt, and a bigger ring towards the end, and sitting on the very end of the hilt is another lotus flower, this time facing outwards instead of cradling the sword within it.

So focused on the beautiful craftsmanship before her, she almost forgets the purpose of this ceremony. She shakes her head and carefully unsheathes the sword, naming it as she does so. “Yueguang.”

(A/n- This should mean Moonlight. Please correct me if I’m wrong.)

The sword shines blindingly with her sky blue spiritual energy before settling to a subtle blue tint in the blade’s polished silver metal. 

She can’t help but smile as she resheathes her new partner and bows once again to her Clan Leader. 

With that, the ceremony is over, and with no more need to be so formal, she breaks out in happy tears as her friends tackle her into a hug. She hugs the sword to her chest and can’t help but laugh as she gets pelted with affection and well wishes. Her father has a warm smile on his face and simply ruffles her hair before standing and moving off to the side to receive congratulations for his daughter by some of the higher members of the clan.

-----

Today I met the Heir to the Lan Clan. I thought he was really stuffy at first, but turns out he’s really nice and the stuffiness was only because…

-----

It is a warm summer day when Mao Fenfang first meets Qingheng-jun. She is 13. Today is Qingheng-jun’s tenth birthday, and because the Mao Clan is tied to the Lan Sect, her, her father, and a few advisors and Elders were invited to attend the Lan Sect Heir’s Sword Gifting ceremony.

Sect Leader Lan is kneeling in front of his son, speaking lines and getting responses that are both familiar and completely new to Mao Fenfang. Off to the side stands a few Elders, Madam Lan, and her youngest son, who looks to be at least a few years younger than Qingheng-jun and is the most expressive person here; He at least has what looks to be permanent lines already etched into his face in the shape of a scowl.

This group of about a dozen people are the only ones witnessing the ceremony. Lan Sect Sword Gifting ceremonies look a little like funerals , she thinks. The Lan Sect is of course dressed in their white mourning-looking robes, and the hall is completely silent save for the Sect Leader and his son. Even after the ceremony is over, there are no cheers, or friends coming to congratulate Qingheng-jun. Even his parents stay quiet, although Madam Lan does give her son a genuine smile before the polite mask is back on her face.

Mao Fenfang is about a second away from yelling so the people around her make some kind of noise, or just a reaction at least, but is saved from having to commit the spectacle by the group being led away from the courtyard, and thankfully, polite, but quiet, conversation starts up.

After a few seconds of walking quietly at her father’s side, where he’s nodding along with something a Lan Elder is saying, she suddenly feels a presence at her side. Turning and looking a few inches down, she is met with the smiling face of Qingheng-jun. She stumbles a little at the sudden facial expression, and she can’t help the embarrassed flush that crawls up her neck. She had just thought that Lans didn’t show much emotion and liked to be quiet and inexpressive, but it must have been a special thing for the ceremony. 

“Are you okay?” The young boy asks, seeing her stumble, and his smile morphs into a frown of concern.

“Yeah- I mean- I’m fine, thank you.” She stumbles out, still embarrassed and forgetting propriety for a moment too long.

“Oh. That’s good then.” The boy nods, the smile back on his face. “I thought I scared you.”

“Oh, no, no.” She waves her hands. “It wasn’t anything like that. I’m really fine.”

“That’s good.” The boy repeats, before questioning her about her own Sword Gifting Ceremony. 

She smiles excitedly before twisting a little to show the boy the sword attached to her hip. The boy has stars in his eyes as she shows him the sword, and tells him of all the festivities that happened on her tenth birthday.

So lost in their own world, they don’t notice the calculating looks of the adults.

-----

I was out night hunting with my best friend and another disciple my age when I met a bunch of new friends! And it was a complete accident! There was a group from Lotus pier, and then at the end of the night…

-----

It is about midnight, about three weeks after Mao Fenfang’s 17th birthday. She is night hunting with her best friend, Lan Shanyaun, and a male disciple from her clan, who also happens to be her cousin, named Mao Xia. 

The night started out routine. She coordinated with Lan Shanyuan on getting a night hunt, and when her younger cousin asked to go with his big puppy eyes, she just couldn’t say no. They went to the source of the disturbance, a town called Moling. They had met with the Zhou Clan Leader, who had sent the inquiry to the Lan Clan asking for aid. He points them in the direction of the forest outside of the town.

They mount their swords and head off towards the forest with very little else but a location. The man had given them a map and marked a location by a lake that was about halfway between Gusu and Yunmeng. He had said that his clan frequently hunts by the lake, because lots of game are located there, but that the hunting party had gone missing, as well as the search party sent three days after them. There were no bodies found, but blood and dropped supplies had been found. The Clan had very little hope of finding their Clansmen alive; All they had asked was that her group find the creatures responsible and exterminate them so the Clan could hunt by the lake again and send off their Clansman’s souls without any regrets. 

But, like she said, the night had only started out routine. Now, it was anything but. 

Mao Fenfang, Lan Shanyaun, and Mao Xia found the creatures, which turned out to be a flock of Terror Birds, and promptly engaged said creatures. There were about twenty birds, and both she and Lan Shanyaun had killed a bird each. The only problem was that her younger cousin was much weaker than his companions, and after only three minutes of fighting, was picked up by one of the massive birds and taken away. Mao Fenfang and her last remaining companion, with only a split second to think, surrendered to the birds and allowed themselves to be taken as well.

Which is how they got here, in a cave 50 feet above the ground, perfectly alive and whole, but stuck and being monitored by seven Terror Bird hatchlings as big as an adult person. The cave is tall and deep, and a quick look around shows piles of various bones, from both humans and animals.

Lan Shanyaun, in a show of restraint and serenity, has decided to meditate to pass the time until help comes, unhindered by the hatchling currently using him for body warmth.

Mao Xia is crying softly into the downy feathers of another hatchling, lamenting his woes and despairs to the Terror Bird like it’s his only friend. (Uh, hello? Your cousin and self appointed big sister is right here!)

Mao Fenfang, not one to fraternize with the enemy, is sulking in a corner and brushing off any attempts at affection from the baby birds she will most likely have to kill later. The birds may not be demonic, but once they grow up, they can eat a man in one bite and have been known to kill humans. 

She startles when she sees Lan Shanyuan suddenly turn towards the mouth of the cave, his meditation forgotten. She only has a second to wonder before she hears the noise too; A high pitched scream that is currently getting closer and closer. 

In no time at all, three adult Terror Birds land in the cave and deposit their human cargo; A teenage boy, the one who was screaming and who is now crying, a teenage girl, who is currently calling the crying one a plethora of names, including, but not limited to, ‘Spineless worm’, ‘brat’, and ‘worthless bastard’, and another teenage boy, who looks a little scared, but is surprisingly calm considering he was just kidnapped by a Terror Bird. 

“You guys alright?” Mao Fenfang calls, because the girl seems to have no end to her names for the crying boy, and the boy seems close to heeding the girl’s most recent comment, which was ‘Why don’t you just go jump off the cliff and save me the trouble of having to drag your sorry ass back to Lotus Pier?!’. 

The girl turns at the sudden voice, her sword out and the ring on her finger sparking ominously. Her eyes narrow at the three other people in the cave.

“Who’re you?” She says.

Mao Fenfang stands. “The name’s Mao Fenfang. I’m the Mao Clan Heir. The crying one next to me-” She gestures to her cousin. “-is Mao Xia, my cousin. The taller one over there-” She gestures to her best friend. “-is Qingheng-jun, the Lan Clan Heir.”

The girl calms down a bit, sheathing her sword, but her face still looks severe. “I’m Yu Ziyuan, heir to Meishan. The brat next to me-” She jerks her head at the boy next to her, who is no longer crying, and is standing meekly behind her, trying to get at a wound on her arm without setting her off again. “-is Jiang Fengmian, the Jiang Clan Heir. The one behind me-” She motions to the side, towards the quiet boy behind her who is looking around with sharp, intelligent eyes. “-is the brat’s sworn brother, Wei Changze.”

(Wei Wuxian has to take a break for a second as he reads this. Mao Fenfang had mentioned his parents. But it hadn’t quite sunk in that she personally knew them; that she had night hunted with them on multiple occasions. But he can’t stop here. He needs to know more about Mao Fenfang, and so he keeps reading.)

“How did you guys get here?” Yu Ziyuan questions. She takes in their swords and other supplies. “Were you on a nighthunt?”

“We were.” Mao Fenfang confirms. “We got the request from Clan Leader Zhou in Moling, and he told us to go to the lake that’s just south of here. That’s where we found the Terror Birds and we started fighting them. Me and Lan Shanyaun were doing good until Mao Xia got snatched by one. So we decided to get taken too, and we ended up here about half an hour ago.”

Yu Ziyuan nods, a frown on her face. “We got the same request, but from a farmer northeast of Yunmeng who was complaining that his cows were being stolen. He sent the request to a nearby sect, but those cultivators never came back, so he decided to contact the Jiang Clan. I happened to be visiting, so I came along. The brat-” She sends a glare at Jiang Fengmian. “-got taken just like your cousin after he got distracted trying to save a rabbit.”

Lan Shanyaun finally decides to talk from where he was scoping out the situation at Mao Fenfang’s side. “Help might take awhile, but I think we might be able to manage with the people here if we work together. How old are all of you, and what weapons do you have?”

Yu Ziyuan speaks first. “I’m 18. I have Jinglei (A/n- Striking Thunder) and Zidian. I’m proficient in the sword, but I only got Zidian a few years ago.” She clicks her tongue. “It’s only a last resort with the mastery I have now.”

“I’m 16. I only have Shuilian (A/n- Sleeping Lotus) and some talismans.” Jiang Fengmian says.

“Guying (A/n- Lone Shadow).” Wei Changze motions to his sword. “And a bow. I’m 14.” 

“I’m 17.” Mao Fenfang says. “I have Yueguang and talismans.”

“I’m 15 and I have Lengfeng (A/n- Cold Wind) and a bow.” He looks to Wei Changze. “How many arrows do you have?”

“27.” Wei Changze answers. “I lost three on the flight.”

Lan Shanyuan frowns. “I only have 20. I used ten of mine already.”

“What about you?” Yu Ziyuan is looking straight at Mao Fenfang’s cousin, and he squeaks.

“F-F-Fifteen! And I only have Liushui (A/n- Flowing Water)!” 

Lan Shanyuan nods, a plan already forming. “Wei Changze and I have bows, so we’ll stay in the back. Mao Fenfang and Yu Ziyuan are the oldest, so they-”

He’s cut off by a deafening screech, and a Terror Bird comes hurtling through the entrance of the cave, nearly taking off Wei Changze’s head.

“What the fuck?!” Yu Ziyuan yells, and while Mao Fenfang doesn’t agree with the language, she shares the sentiment. 

The dust clears to show a young woman (teenager?) perched on the Terror Bird’s head and triumphantly yelling “Die fucker!” as she shoves her sword the rest of the way through the bird’s skull, cutting off it’s dying screams. Another bird flies through the entrance, this time with a girl Mao Fenfang’s own age standing on the bird’s back. It takes a few seconds for Mao Fenfang to register that the bird is headless, and the bird is only a corpse, because the girl has a bloodied guqin string in her hands, still loosely wrapped around the bird’s exposed spinal column. 

“I did it, Big Sis! I killed one with only the string!” The girl yells at the other girl.

The older girl whips around to stare at her companion, a wide grin on her face. “Really!? You really did it?” The younger girl nods proudly. “Good job, A-Yue! You’ve officially graduated!”

The older girl jumps off her bird carcass and sweeps the younger girl up into a hug. “Don’t worry, we killed them all.” The older girl says, turning to them. With that, both girls get on the older one’s sword, and they fly out of the cave.

“What the fuck?” Yu Ziyuan says, stuck staring at the cave entrance.

“What the fuck?” Mao Fenfang parrots.

“ Young Mistress/ Cousin !” Jiang Fengmian and Mao Xia yell at the same time.

Lan Shanyuan and Wei Changze are struck silent, their mouths hanging open and stars in their eyes.

Chapter Text

Mao Fenfang

This might be my last entry for… awhile. I- Well, I’m not even supposed to write about it- But if I don’t mention any names, I guess it would be okay, so… I got engaged today.

It’s secret for now, and not official yet, so we’re just kind of going to keep it quiet until some people are met with and the engagement is finalized. 

I… kind of had an argument with the Elders awhile ago, so if they hear about this, they’ll break it off. We can’t let that happen, not with the pressure being put onto my- fiancé right now.

My fiancé says there is someone else, but that he can’t reveal who they are to the Elders yet. I’m acting as a placeholder of sorts, but I’m not sad. If anything I’m angry. He’s barely 18, and they want him to get married-?!

Sorry, but anyway, with the political environment as it is now, with Wei Changze eloping at 16 and being expelled from the clan, it’s not safe for my fiancé’s lover right now. 

I don’t like men as romantic partners, and I’m not sure if this engagement will get as far as marriage, but if it does, I… don’t think I’ll ever be able to touch him like that. Soon enough, someone will become suspicious, and I’ll either be labeled barren, or our lie will be exposed.

I don’t know how long this political turmoil will last, but I hope it ends soon, for all our sakes. 

I don’t love him, and he loves someone else. He never said anything, but I know he wouldn’t propose this engagement unless it was urgent. At this point, there may even be a child involved.

Sorry, I’ve already written too much, but I just needed to vent this to someone, and the only other person who knows is the person who got me into this mess in the first place.

I guess this is goodbye?

…

Wei Wuxian sits in shock for a number of reasons as he finishes reading Mao Fenfang’s diary.

She had known his parents, both of them, if the Terror Bird incident is any indication. Wei Changze had eloped with Cangse Sanren at 16. At the end of Wei Wuxian’s 16th year, he was already fighting in a war. It seems his father’s 16th year was filled with marital bliss. Mao Fenfang was engaged to an unnamed man, but she isn’t married now, and her diary ends after she tells of her engagement. It’s clear from her previous entries that she’s a little over 20 when she writes of the engagement. She was 26 when she became an Elder-in-training. That means there's a dead space in the records that could be anywhere from 5 years to 3 years. And take it from someone who’s had their whole life turned on its head in just 3 months, that anything, literally anything, can happen in the span of years. 

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian startles and nearly rips out a few pages of the book. He carefully smooths out the pages and returns the book to its resting place before looking behind himself.

Lan Zhan is standing in the doorway. It must be time to go. Wei Wuxian makes one more sweep of the room, making sure everything is back in place before he and Lan Zhan leave the apartment. They still have an entire bookshelf to go through, but he doubts they’ll find anything pertaining to the dead space or anything more about the engagement. Mao Fenfang made it clear that she wouldn’t even write down the man’s name, much less speak it. 

Wei Wuxian has speculations, of course he does, but when those speculations could potentially lead to Mao Fenfang being labeled as a murderer, or with Aunty Yue dead if the speculations are wrong… Wei Wuxian would rather not take any chances. 

They wander the women’s quarters aimlessly, trying to find Yingtai, who still believes they’re playing hide and seek, and who seems to be a master at hiding, even from two adults. Eventually, Mao Fenfang returns, Mrs. Zhu leaves to have tea with her friends, and together with Mao Fenfang, they find Yingtai in a matter of ten minutes snuggling with a family of rabbits under a bush. Wei Wuxian coos, Lan Zhan glares at the traitorous creatures, and Mao Fenfang worries over Yingtai like she snuggled up to a corpse and not a warren of fluffy, harmless animals.

…

Lan Wangji sends Wei Ying a pointed look over his tea. They are finally alone, and with it being so near to curfew, it's basically a guarantee that they won’t be disturbed tonight.

Which makes it the perfect time for Wei Ying to report on what he found in the personal writings of Mao Fenfang. Lan Wangji had stopped by a few times to check on Wei Ying during the investigation, so he knows that Wei Ying didn’t find nothing . For nearly half an hour he had been reading a leather bound, older looking book. Wei Ying wouldn’t have read the entire book if it didn’t have any information pertaining to their investigation.

Lan Wangji takes another look at Wei Ying over the rim of his tea cup. Wei Ying has always been a very expressive person, with both his body and words. When he is happy, he smiles, and his voice is bright and carefree. When he is sad, he will cry, and his words will be quiet and broken. When he is angry, he will sneer with his muscles wound tight, and his words will be hurled with fire and venom, more accurate than the finest archer, and more deadly than the sharpest sword.

So when Lan Wangji looks now, and sees Wei Ying with a blank face and a million emotions swirling in his eyes, Lan Wangji decides to wait. When Wei Ying is ready, he will talk, and forcing him any sooner than when he is ready will result in half formed thoughts spilling forth and random conclusions strung together without any rhyme or reason. It is best to wait.

So when Wei Ying finally speaks, Lan Wangji does not startle and choke on his tea.

“I think my mom might’ve accidentally taught your mom chord assassination.”

Now, Lan Wangji really does choke.

-----

After coughing, setting down his tea, and taking a second to properly process the words, Lan Wangji finally says, “Wei Ying’s mother…”

“Mhm.” Wei Ying nods, confirming that he heard right.

“ Accidentally taught my mother…” How do you accidentally teach someone a forbidden technique of a clan neither party is a part of ?

“Mhm. At least I think it was an accident.” Wei Ying amends. “My mom isn’t a Lan, and I don’t think yours is either.”

“ Chord assassination ?” Lan Wangji asks, a touch incredulous.

“Mhm.”

“...”

“...”

“ Chord assassination ?” Lan Wangji has to ask again, because this just sounds… sounds… ridiculous!

Lan Wangji had read about chord assassination as a young teen, and had only used the technique once, against the Tortoise of Slaughter. Even having read about the technique in the book with it’s official documentation, his execution of the technique had been faulty. For one, he was drained of spiritual energy, and couldn’t properly power the guqin strings. And with no spiritual energy, he couldn’t protect his hands. Even in his later years, the scars across his palms from the ordeal were still clearly visible. And instead of beheading the tortoise in one clean move, what he did was closer to choking the beast to death, with the added perk of beheading the tortoise when it became too weak to strike back. The tortoise may be on par with a legendary beast, but hours of struggling had taken its toll.

So forgive Lan Wangji if the story of Cangse Sanren correctly teaching Mother chord assassination with no reference materials or proper instruction sounds a little far fetched.

But… Wei Ying wouldn’t lie. Well, Wei Ying lies all the time, but never to Lan Wangji. Not since they had been thrown backwards in time and only had each other to rely on. 

So Lan Wangji takes a deep breath in, slowly lets it out, and focuses back on Wei Ying.

“Continue.” Lan Wangji says.

-----

Lan Wangji can’t sleep. Wei Ying had finished relaying all that he had found out, they had stewed in the information for a few minutes, curfew had come, they had cleaned up and gone to bed, Wei Ying had fallen asleep within minutes, like he always does, but not even Lan Wangji’s internal rhythms could lull him to sleep now.

The information they found… was a lot. They found connections between people who were previously unrelated. They had learned about Mao Fenfang as a person, as well as her interactions with those around her. They had learned about her life up to the engagement, and then there was nothing more. 

They had started this investigation with basically nothing. Just a barely remembered glance at papers that spoke of Mother’s death, and 23 years worth of memories of another life that were nothing but pain, and heartbreak, and war, and death. Nothing pertaining to the death of his mother, who died a week before his sixth birthday.

They’ve made breakthrough after breakthrough, and yet the truth remains one step ahead of them. They went through the archives, and found Mao Fenfang. They investigated her, and while her diary yielded answers, it also brought up a dozen more questions. And they still don’t know who killed Mother or why.

It’s currently autumn, but soon winter will come, and with it snow. They won’t be able to carelessly wander the Cloud Recesses anymore. Not when every one of their footprints will show like a beacon in the snow. They will have to come up with more excuses, tell more people where they are and when they will be back, and have even more chances for a slip up to happen. For Uncle to grow just a touch too suspicious, for a concerned caretaker to shadow them just a touch too long. 

Mother needs to live, no matter what. There is no margin for error.

Lan Wangji takes in the boy- the man- in front of him. Wei Ying looks small, curled up on his side with his back to Lan Wangji. He is asleep, his breathing deep and even. The robes Lan Wangji clutches in his hands are warm, heated by Wei Ying’s skin. Lan Wangji curls forward, curls into the warmth of a young and mostly unscarred Wei Ying, and falls asleep to the even beat of his love’s heart.

-----

They wake up at five the next day, only to find classes cancelled. The yearly Discussion Conference is being held in Lotus Pier. Lan Wangji, Wei Ying, Brother, and Uncle eat breakfast and then are packed together onto two horses; Uncle with Wei Ying, and Brother with Lan Wangji. They take 15 disciples as an escort, and then set out for Lotus Pier. 

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji

Lan Wangji watches as Wei Ying jokes and makes faces with a group of disciples. The laughter may be genuine, but the reason for it is not. Wei Ying has gotten increasingly more nervous and restless the closer they got to Lotus Pier.

They are in the last leg of the trip, and have forgone the horses in favor of boats. Uncle, Brother, and half the disciples are in one boat, while Lan Wangji, Wei Ying, and the rest of the disciples are in another boat. 

Wei Ying had told him this morning about his childhood in Lotus Pier. His whispers were filled with pain as he spoke of his brother. His quiet words were filled with sadness as he spoke of his sister. His fear was disguised as shivers from the cold, but while it was autumn, it had been getting increasingly warmer as they got closer to Lotus Pier, not colder. The disciples had checked for fever, even though Lan Wangji knew they wouldn’t find one, and they had attributed it to Wei Ying still being too thin, even though Lan Wangji knew that wasn’t the case.

Lan Wangji so dearly wishes he could help Wei Ying in this, but he doesn’t know what to say, or how to even approach what sounds like years of repressed trauma. Lan Wangji has trauma, but a different kind than Wei Ying’s, and he himself has found that while Wei Ying forces his pain outward, Lan Wangji forces it inward. 

Wei Ying will joke and tease, just so he doesn’t have to think about the pain. Lan Wangji will hide it away deep inside and use routine to fall back into the mindless rhythm of living. 

They are opposites in many ways, and that is why Lan Wangji has no idea how to help Wei Ying before the inevitable meeting of all his ghosts and demons.

…

Wei Wuxian isn’t ready to go to Lotus Pier, but he was put on a horse and then a boat and he’s going there anyway. Wei Wuxian isn’t ready to face a living Uncle Jiang who looks at him with kindness, but will probably not look at him like a son. He isn’t ready to face a Jiang Cheng who’s little more than a toddler and still has loving parents and a loving sister. He isn’t ready to look at Shijie and see her smiling and breathing and not cold and covered in blood. And Madam Yu… he doesn’t know what Madam Yu will be like, and so he isn’t ready for her either.

In conclusion, Wei Wuxian would much rather sit in Cloud Recesses, and eat bland food, and do calligraphy, and get scolded for talking while eating, and get praised by Uncle, and nap during nap time, because he may be an adult, but he has a child’s body, and he isn’t above getting nap time if its being offered, and hide from the world in the quiet, detached place called Cloud Recesses.

He’s so lost in his dread that he startles as the boat docks and would have flipped over the side if it weren’t for the disciple personally tasked to his care.

“You okay, kid?” The disciple, Lan Ren, if Wei Wuxian remembers correctly from when they were introduced this morning, says.

His concern is genuine, no matter that despite being from not just the Lan Sect, but the Lan Clan, his words are informal, and Wei Wuxian thinks that Lan Ren is the first person to call him something other than ‘Young Master’ without having to be explicitly told. 

Wei Wuxian nods dumbly at the teenager’s question. 

Lan Ren nods approvingly. “Good. Can’t have my charge drowning when I’ve had him for less than a day.”

Wei Wuxian wants to retort that he can swim fine, but he’s not sure if the ability to swim is something that transfers through time like Lan Zhan’s sleeping schedule. Probably not.

Before he can say anything else, Lan Ren helps him off the boat, and Lan Zhan’s babysitter, a girl the same age as Lan Ren he thinks is called Lan Lifen, helps Lan Zhan off the boat as well.

Uncle and Lan Xichen are at the head of their group as they make their way into Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan, and their babysitters are a step behind, and the rest of their group takes up the rear. 

Servants meet them and lead them to the Main Hall, where clans and leaders will meet and mingle and then sit down for a feast. At the doors of the Main Hall are Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu, greeting guests with a smile (Uncle Jiang) and bows barely deep enough to be proper (Madam Yu).

“Sect Leader Lan.” Uncle Jiang greets, a smile on his face.

“Sect Leader Lan.” Madam Yu parrots, and her attempt at diplomacy is clear when she offers a bow just a little lower than usual. Although it’s still clear that between her husband and herself, she is definitely not the most diplomatic one.

Wei Wuxian instinctively flinches at her voice, but no fear, anger, or hate boils up. He finds that even though he flinched, he can’t find a reason for his flinch. He doesn’t feel any phantom pain across his back. He doesn’t feel the need to shrink down and submit like a sparrow before a hawk. The entire experience feels kind of anticlimactic. It’s almost like he’s a normal kid, and even with the memories, it’s like all the emotions were taken out of them. He remembers being flayed by whip and word, but feels no anger or fear. Maybe it’s a side effect of time travel?

“Sect Leader Jiang, Madam Yu.” Uncle greets back. “I thank you for the hospitality in opening your home for the yearly conference.”

“No need, Sect Leader Lan.” Uncle Jiang says. “We are always honored when the yearly conference is to be held in our lands.”

Uncle Jiang turns to the kids next. “First Young Master, Second Young Master, Young Master Wei, I understand this is your first time in Lotus Pier?”

Uncle nods. “Xichen and A-Zhan were too young to take with me last time.” It doesn’t need to be said why Wei Wuxian has never been to Lotus Pier.

Uncle Jiang smiles. “I’ll have my children show you around.” He turns and calls out, “A-Li, A-Cheng.”

Shijie , who’s just a little taller than Lan Xichen, and Jiang Cheng, who is the definition of baby-faced and is short enough to only reach Wei Wuxian’s chin, come from around the corner where they were probably watching the guests. 

Shijie . Jiang Cheng. The two people who loved him- who he loves the most.

Wei Wuxian starts to cry.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian ran.

He could feel the tears sliding down his face, even if he remained silent. The adults around him had startled, some tried to offer physical support, and had inched closer, while others just stood there, having never had to console a randomly crying child before. But the one thing all the adults shared, including Lan Xichen, was that they had looked at him with pity.

The one thing that Wei Wuxian hates as much as dogs, is being looked at with pity.

But his siblings- former siblings- had looked at him with concern, not an ounce of pity in sight. Shijie had stepped forward before the adults even had time to process, as if consoling a crying child from a different sect requires no thoughts other than, Is this child okay?

And that simple proof of just how good of a person his Shijie is made Wei Wuxian cry harder.

It had gotten frantic then.

Shijie was a step away. Jiang Cheng’s face was scrunched up in worry, looking between Wei Wuxian and his sister. Lan Xichen and Uncle Jiang were a step behind Shijie , but where Shijie was silent, they were whispering an endless stream of words, almost overwhelming with their noise. ( Are you okay? Let me help you. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? It’s okay. It’sokay. It’sokayIt’sokayIT’SOKAY- ) Uncle and Madam Yu simply just stood there, confused as to why a child is crying, and even more confused about what they’re supposed to do.

And then there was Lan Zhan. Maybe it was a testament to how well they knew each other, having lived together for months. Maybe it’s because Lan Zhan was a child once who shied away from others, and escape was the natural next step. Maybe it’s none of those things, and Lan Zhan is just a good person.

The people around Wei Wuxian were closing in, and Wei Wuxian had no excuses. His mind was blank, with the truth unwillingly settling at the tip of his tongue. He was a second away from blurting his sins when a hand grabbed his arm, hard enough to bruise, and then the world cleared.

He blinks, and suddenly the group of people are a few feet away. He blinks again and suddenly they’re halfway down the hall. Another blink. They’re around a corner, out of sight. A blink. There’s no people around.

No one but Wei Wuxian and the person whose hand is steadily leaving a bruise in the meat of his arm. Hurting, but grounding. Aggressive, but keeping Wei Wuxian calm.

They’re on the outskirts of Lotus Pier. They’re in a floating pavilion surrounded by swaying reeds as tall as a man. If someone walks by, they’ll be invisible. They won’t be found unless someone enters the pavilion.

The hand on his arm leaves. His own hand flies up to replace it, squeezing at the bruise when the world starts blurring at the edges. Clarity returns.

It almost feels like his mind is becoming muddled by resentful energy, but he knows that’s not the case. He can sense resentful energy for miles and there’s not a lick of it in sight. And even if there was, he hasn’t touched resentful energy since he got here. 

“Wei Ying?”

Lan Zhan is crouched in front of him. Wei Wuxian realizes they’re both sitting, with him leaning against the railing of the pavilion and Lan Zhan in front of him. 

“Breathe, Wei Ying.”

A hand closes over his own and squeezes. Wei Wuxian hadn’t realized that the world was fading away again. The bruise on his arm twinges from their combined strength and he gasps out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“I- I’m okay, Lan Zhan. You- You don’t need to worry.” Wei Wuxian smiles, and he knows that he looks about as reassuring as a grinning corpse.

“You are not okay, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Wuxian thinks he sounds angry, although that might just be his brain playing tricks on him.

Wei Wuxian scoffs, and watches as Lan Zhan flinches away from him. There’s no resentful energy curling through his veins, but he falls back into the familiar push and pull of it anyway. 

Wei Wuxian can deal with familiar.

“And what would you know?” Lan Zhan just sits and stares at him, a grim expression on his face. “Are you in my head? Can you hear my thoughts, sense my feelings?” Lan Zhan, like he always does, stays silent.

“You are shaking.” Lan Zhan finally says, like that statement will solve everything.

“I’m cold.” Wei Wuxian says. It’s not a lie. Resentful energy always felt cold. The empty pit in his stomach where his golden core used to sit always felt cold. The looks he got from friend and foe alike always felt cold. None of those feelings apply now, but he imagines them anyway.

“It is warm here. It was colder in Gusu and you were fine.”

“It’s windy.” True.

“The reeds are blocking the wind.”

This back and forth is really getting on his nerves. “Fine!” Wei Wuxian spits. “I’m shaking! I’m not cold! I don’t know why I’m shaking, but I think you can hazard a guess.” He gestures to the tear tracks on his face, clenches his hand in his lap even as it shakes harder. “What do I look like to you, Lan Zhan?” Lan Zhan stays silent. “Do I look crazy? Like a corpse? Do you want me to laugh like a maniac so you can lock me up?” Wei Wuxian grins, a feral flash of teeth. “You can’t- no… you won’t lock me up Lan Zhan. You need me to help save your mother-”

Lan Zhan stands and hauls him to his feet by the lapels of his robes. He looks furious . Wei Wuxian feels a burn in his chest. He ignores it.

“Do not .” Lan Zhan growls, and Wei Wuxian can’t help but bark out a laugh. If only the Lans could see their prized Second Jade now, reduced to a feral dog. “Speak of Mother like that.”

The burn in his chest is worse now. It hurts. It hurts to see Lan Zhan looking hurt. It hurts to know that he was the one who caused Lan Zhan to look so hurt.

But he can’t stop. He feels drugged. The words keep spilling. The burn gets worse. The high intensifies. He feels like he’s glowing.

“And why can’t I say that about your mom, Lan Zhan? It’s not like she’s my mother.” His face feels wet. “My mother died years ago. My father died with her. You have two alive, whole parents who love you very much. Why can’t I talk like that? Is it some privilege I don’t get because I’m an orphan? Or is it because I’m a servant? Do you want me to lick your boots clean, Second Young Master Lan , after kneeling on the same ground as me?”

Oh , does the burn hurt now. He feels like his insides are on fire. He feels free. Is this what ascending to Godhood feels like? He imagines glowing like a newborn star and leaving this hellhole of a world behind.

He blinks. He’s actually glowing. And he’s pretty sure he’s not ascending to Godhood. The burn in his chest throbs, fighting for his attention. 

He’s glowing… 

His chest is glowing… 

His insides burn…

“The seal!” Wei Wuxian bleats, panicked. Frantic golden eyes meet his, their argument forgotten.

The seal is breaking, because they probably unconsciously called forth their spiritual energy while they were arguing, and it became too much.

Wei Wuxian feels unconsciousness beckoning, but he can’t give in yet. He can imagine how much noise they were making. Even if they’re far enough from the main compound for their words to be indistinguishable, their yelling was probably heard loud and clear. Not to mention two glowing children aren’t exactly inconspicuous. He can’t let people find the seal when it’s not hidden, much less breaking. If they fall unconscious with the seal broken, their bodies will be burned up from the inside from their spiritual energy. At best, they’ll live as mediocres. At worst, they’ll die.

“Lan Zhan- Your robes-” Wei Wuxian hisses through clenched teeth. He can’t think with the insistent burn flaring in his chest, much less speak. Thankfully Lan Zhan understands and, from where he’s somehow ended up sprawled on the ground, tears his robes to the side. 

Wei Wuxian bites his thumb and shakily draws over the parts of the seal that are missing and flaking away. He knows he’s done enough when Lan Zhan gasps and clutches at his chest, soothing away the burn as the seal melts back into invisibility on his skin.

Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian is still in agony, and can’t do anything more than slump to the floor and groan pathetically. 

Lan Zhan tears open Wei Wuxain’s robes and uses his own blood to repair Wei Wuxain’s seal. The process is slow, because Lan Zhan has to study the seal for a few seconds before he can fill in the missing pieces, and Wei Wuxian can do nothing as he feels his meridians burning and crisping under the strain. He whines, and claws at his chest, trying to get the pain to go away . Lan Zhan grabs the offending hand and squeezes it as the pain fades and finally, blissfully, he falls unconscious.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji

Lan Wangji feels guilty. 

After Wei Ying fell unconscious, they were soon found by a servant who had overheard the commotion. The servant had gasped and cradled Wei Ying in his arms, urging Lan Wangji to follow.

They had made it to the infirmary, where the servant filled the healer in on the situation using what little information he knew before leaving with a promise to find Sect Leader Jiang, Madam Yu, Sect Leader Lan, and First Young Master Lan.

For a while, everything was a blur. Healers and servants flitted to and fro, easily finding what was wrong with Wei Ying, but all diagnoses they could think of couldn’t apply to a child, not one as young as Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji had an inkling as to what caused this, but he isn’t a healer, and he also doesn’t know the full side effects of the Tri-Seal. So in the end, he was as much in the dark as the rest of the healers were.

And now they were all huddled by Wei Ying’s bed; Lan Wangji at the head at one side, Uncle and Brother standing next to him, Sect Leader Jiang and his wife at the foot of the bed, and the Healing Master on the other side of the bed.

“For now, we aren’t entirely sure what happened to the child.” The healing master, a woman called Healer He, says. “He had a small wound on his thumb, but that had already stopped bleeding by the time he was found with Second Young Master Lan.” She moves her hand to Wei Ying’s arm and rolls up the sleeve. “There was also a bruise on his arm, but it doesn’t seem too bad, and it’s already on its way to healing completely. It’s also possible it was an older bruise that was just aggravated if Young Master Wei bumped into something, or someone grabbed his arm. In any case, both of these wounds are superficial, and will heal quickly.”

Healer He puts Wei Ying’s sleeve back in place and hovers her hands over Wei Ying’s chest. “The problem, or more accurately, ‘effect’ I’m worried about is that the child’s meridians show signs of being burned.”

The adults gasp. Lan Xichen looks at the adults in the room, confused. “What does that mean?” He asks Healer He. “Will A-Ying be okay?”

“I’ll get to the meaning in a second, but most importantly, the burns won’t scar, thanks to the efforts of the servant who brought the boy straight here, and the child won’t have any trouble in the future forming a core or using spiritual energy.”

The adults give an audible sigh of relief. 

“For the convenience of everyone here,” Healer He continues. “I’ll explain what exactly burned meridians are. In essence, burned meridians are meridians in a cultivator that have become damaged by a sudden influx of a large amount of energy. Just like any burn, whether they will heal without any lasting damage depends on how severe the burn is. If you burn yourself drinking hot tea, your tongue might sting for a while, but you won’t have any permanent reminder of the incident. But if you stick your hand in an open flame for an extended period of time, you’re bound to have at least a nasty scar and nerve damage. 

“Now, there are a few different ways burned meridians can happen, like if a powerful cultivator’s core is sealed and then unsealed, like a dam breaking, or if you are suddenly exposed to a place with large amounts of resentful energy, like the burial mounds. But the most common cause of burned meridians is qi deviation.”

The people assembled nod along to the explanation. Most have at least heard of burned meridians and some know a few of the causes.

Uncle’s brows furrow and he strokes his goatee thoughtfully. “But A-Ying has no core, and he has been at Lotus Pier this whole time. There's no way for him to damage his meridians with either spiritual or resentful energy.”

Lan Wangji watches, a silent observer. He feels useless. He has an idea as to why Wei Ying’s meridians are burned, but he can’t tell anyone. He can only hope that they find a reasonable explanation and that Wei Ying isn’t saddled down by some obscure cure that he has to take for the rest of his life.

Sect Leader Jiang looks between Wei Ying and Healer He. “I don’t know if this is relevant, but just before the servant found the boys, A-Ying had become very distressed. Second Young Master Lan had taken A-Ying away, presumably to calm down, and the next I heard they were both at the infirmary and A-Ying’s meridians were like this. He doesn’t have a core, and I’ve never seen the symptoms of one expressed as sadness but… could it be an unheard of type of qi deviation?”

Healer He takes a moment to parse through the new information before shaking her head. “The emotional distress and the meridians have no way of being connected that I know of… but…” She trails off.

“Speak freely, Healer He.” Madam Yu says with a wave of her hand. “Even if it’s just conjecture, you’re not the Healing Master of Lotus Pier for nothing.”

Healer He swallows, glancing nervously between Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu. “Well, I was hesitant to speak because with all the options exhausted, I fear it only leaves a hereditary disease.”

Sect Leader Jiang’s expression shutters.

“We know of Wei Changze,” Healer He says quietly. “While it will bring up sensitive memories, if it is something from his side of the family, with his medical records close by, a cure can easily be found. But if the disease was inherited from Cangse Sanren…”

Everyone knows what she is trying to say. Cangse Sanren was adopted by Baoshan Sanren as a child. Not only are her genetics unknown, but any record of her medical issues growing up are kept on a mountain that no one in the cultivation world has access to. 

“Excuse me.” A polite male voice says from the open infirmary doorway. Lan Wangji almost startles off of his perch at the head of the bed as he turns to look at the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway is a man, tall and clearly a cultivator by the expensive looking sword strapped to his back. His robes are flowing with white fading into a dove grey with black accents. The man is clearly distinguished, not tight on money, but his person lacks any affiliation with a known sect.

Seeing as he wasn’t immediately rejected, the man enters the room and stops just a polite distance away from the group. A few steps behind the white robed man is another taller man. 

This man wears grey robes with varying shades of blue accents, from sky blue to midnight blue, and looks to be just as distinguished of a cultivator as the first man, also bearing no ties to a major clan. Though the first man only carries a sword, this man has both a sword and a horsetail whisk.

“I know it is impolite to eavesdrop and to intrude on clearly private matters, but I had come to the infirmary to inquire about the healing techniques of the Jiang Sect and couldn’t help but overhear. My companion and I are rogue cultivators and were invited to this Conference by the Ouyang clan after a night hunt. Because I have an affinity for healing, I always try to learn a healing technique from every Sect I visit.” The man shakes his head. “But back to the matter at hand. I believe I can help you in your current predicament.” He motions to Wei Ying. “This child is named Wei Ying, son to Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, correct?”

Sect Leader Jiang gives a stilted nod. “That… That would be correct. And who might you and your companion be?” He asks with a polite but forced smile.

The man startles a little. “Oh! How rude of me.”

The white robed man bows and grabs at his companion's sleeve when he hesitates to do the same. They both straighten back to their full heights. The white robed man sends his companion a look, but when he stays silent and scowls the white robed man sighs and speaks. “Forgive my companion for his rudeness, he has no talent for politics, but his name is Song Lan, courtesy Zichen, from Baixue Temple. I am his cultivation partner, and my name is Xiao Xingchen, third student of Immortal Baoshan Sanren.”

The room is as silent as if time had stopped. 

Xiao Xingchen advances a step. “That is why I believe I can help. I know that if the situations were reversed, my sister would not hesitate to help any children or students I had left behind. As such, it would be no trouble for me to help in any way I can.”

Healer He breaks the silence first. “In that case, I would be honored to have your help.” She seems to pause at the number of people now crowded around the bed. “Can I have everyone but Sect Leader Jiang, Sect Leader Lan, and Xiao Xingchen leave the room? I know you are worried, but private information will be shared and the room is getting too crowded.”

Lan Wangji stiffens. He wants to stay, he could help, but he knows he can’t do anything right now. It hurts to admit, but leaving the room might be the best idea right now.

He begrudgingly follows the other people out of the room and can only watch and wait as the door slides shut.

Chapter Text

Xiao Xingchen

Xiao Xingchen watches as the smallest Lan child hesitates in leaving, throwing glances back as his brows furrow before finally exiting the room.

Xiao Xingchen turns to the Lan Sect Leader as they all sit and watch the woman, who introduced herself as Healer He, do some more in depth testing before asking for input from the group.

“Sect Leader Lan,” Xiao Xingchen starts quietly. The man turns towards him and politely urges him to continue. “I saw how worried the youngest Lan child was. Are he and my nephew friends? I have heard that you were the one to take my nephew off the streets, and am thankful for that.”

Sect Leader Lan nods with a hand stroking his goatee. “The two boys are my nephews. The oldest is Lan Huan, courtesy Lan Xichen. The youngest is Lan Zhan, and yes, I have heard they are inseparable, on top of sharing Lan Zhan’s living quarters.”

Xiao Xingchen blinks. “Sect Leader Lan,” Something must change in his tone, because Sect Leader Jiang, who has minded his own business up to this point, takes a step closer to the conversation. “Respectfully, and please correct me if I am wrong, but are you telling me that you are letting my nephew and your nephew, two five year old children, live alone?”

Sect Leader Lan blinks, taking in the disbelieving stares of the other two men. “I… Yes?”

Sect Leader Jiang recoils back with whispered disbelief while Xiao Xingchen’s stare turns to fury. “Sect Leader Lan,” Sect Leader Lan actually recoils back. “I am not a Sect Leader, so I hope you will forgive me for speaking so informally to people above my station.” Xiao Xingchen takes a steadying breath to keep from yelling when his unconscious nephew is only a few feet away. “In what world do you think it's okay for two five year old children to live alone?” His voice comes out a hiss, but it's not a yell. He continues. “And don’t give me some flimsy excuses about absent or deceased parents, because as a living relative, it would then be your job to care for them in place of their parents. I may be naïve, but I am not stupid. I know that there is probably some good reason that their uncle is taking care of them instead of their parents, but then their uncle needs to act like a parent. Just because they don’t have a parent to care for them doesn’t mean they don’t need parental affection. Children won’t grow right without it.”

Sect Leader Lan stays silent, but Xiao Xingchen can see the gears turning in his head. “What do you think the difference is between Immortal Baoshan’s personal students and her disciples?”

Sect Leader Lan strokes his goatee and doesn’t meet Xiao Xingchen’s eyes. “She… adopts her personal students but not her disciples?”

Xiao Xingchen shakes his head. “I do think of Immortal Baoshan as a mother figure, but her only adopted child is Cangse Sanren. The difference between her students and her disciples is that all of her students have no living relatives. Immortal Baoshan has wards around her mountain, that if you are pure of heart and need help, will let you through. If you are not both of these, you will never find her home no matter how hard you look. Some people come with parents, or cousins, or brothers, and they are taken on as disciples and given food, and a home, and as long as they contribute somehow, are left to stay in the community until they die. Sometimes, even common people will come, and even though they aren’t taken as disciples, they are still given a home. But Yanling Daoren, Cangse Sanren, and I were abandoned as young children at the foot of the mountain. Now, we are not the only children to ever be left, but we are the only ones, after a year of searching, where no living relatives have turned up. And know that if an immortal wants to find someone, there will be no place on earth where you could stay hidden.

“I do not know the stories of my siblings, but Immortal Baoshan did tell me mine after I became old enough. My father died before I was born. My mother died in childbirth. The old lady next door was the midwife, and took me in after my mother died. Six months later, she fell and hit her head, and died. No one thought to check on me until I started crying, and then they simply took me to the nearby forest so they couldn't hear my cries and prayed that my death would be swift. Incidentally, even if the person carrying me couldn’t enter the wards, I was allowed entry, and was found within hours by a patrolling disciple.”

Xiao Xingchen sighs. “So you see, Immortal Baoshan takes in children with no parents, or siblings, or caretakers, and cares for them like a parent would, and then sends them off into the world to share her kindness with others. I do not know why Cangse Sanren was different, but I do not envy her for it. Even without hearing the story, I know that it was even more cruel than mine. I left the mountain about two years ago, when with the last of her spiritual energy, my sister sent a message to Immortal Baoshan telling of her son, telling of Immortal Baoshan’s grandson . I have been looking for two years for my sister’s child, and have found my own love along the way. So you will forgive me for my outburst when I think my nephew is saved, but is instead taken to a place with a different kind of drawn out torture.”

Sect Leader Lan sputters. “ Torture- ! It is no such thing!” Healer He sends the group a look at the noise so they move a few steps away. “All Lan children are taught to be independent from a young age,” Sect Leader Lan continues quieter. “But A-Zhan’s simply started sooner because his brother is Heir. They had to be separated to keep A-Zhan from learning secrets only a Sect Leader should know. It was for their safety. And A-Zhan shows no signs of being different from the other children. He’s quiet, but he’s always been that way. He even made a friend!”

Sect Leader Jiang finally speaks in quiet horror. “Qiren… are you telling me that all children in the Lan Clan are raised this way? Isolated as a child and living alone?”

“They’re not isolated!” Sect Leader Lan argues back. “They have classes with other children and are free to interact in their free time. And adults are present at all classes to teach the children valuable life skills. Most children even live with their parents!”

Xiao Xingchen sighs. “Sect Leader Lan, it's clear that no matter what we say, nothing is going to change. So at least let your nephews and Wei Ying live together. Lan Xichen can keep his living quarters for his work to keep Sect secrets, but let the children all sleep in Lan Zhan’s quarters so that the children may all help each other in day-to-day life.” Before Sect Leader Lan can speak Xiao Xingchen says, “And if you have any objections, you can take it up with my Sect Leader.” He smiles, knowing the other man wouldn’t dare do that.

Sect Leader Lan opens his mouth to speak, thinks better of it, and shuts it with an audible click. He sighs. “A-Ying is more your nephew than mine, and hearing about her Sect, I don’t think either his mother or grandmother would approve of his treatment. So I will concede to you and do as you say.”

Xiao Xingchen bows. “This one thanks Sect Leader Lan for listening to his lowly opinions.”

Sect Leader Lan bats the formality away. “Nothing like that. I admit that some of the Lan Clans views might not be acceptable outside the Sect, so I will defer to you as you have a closer connection to A-Ying than I do. And… please call me Qiren.”

“And call me Fengmian.” Sect Leader- Fengmian says. “I have a feeling we will be seeing more of each other as A-Ying grows up.”

“Ahem!” Healer He clears her throat. “If you are done arguing, I can explain some more things I have found regarding Wei Ying’s condition.”

Fengmian nods. “I believe we’ve come to an agreement, yes. So what have you found?”

“Well, I have traced the burns and found that they are the worst near where his core would be. That area seems to be where the burns originated from. The burns are only found around his core and nowhere else.”

Xiao Xingchen blinks. “Like a qi deviation? Isn’t he a little young?”

Healer He nods. “If he was an adult, I would waste no time diagnosing that he had gone through a qi deviation, but since he doesn’t have a core…”

“You diagnosed it as a genetic condition because a qi deviation would be impossible, but a qi imbalance causing burns would be reasonable even if he should have shown signs sooner.” Xiao Xingchen finishes.

Healer He blinks, startled. “How long have you been studying medicine, child?”

Xiao Xingchen blushes. “Only for about five or six years. Most of my knowledge was learned in the last two years, after I left the mountain. After night hunts, I would go to the nearby Sect or Clan and request healing knowledge. Most just give me a recipe for a homemade salve or tonic, but some show me healing techniques or let me copy a single book from their medical archives.” 

Healer He smiles. “Come here, child.” She motions to the bed. “Feel his meridians here and here-”

She’s interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Oh!” Xiao Xingchen exclaims. He turns to the other people in the room. “Um… as soon as I heard A-Ying was here, I sent a message to my Master.” The assembled group’s eyes widen. “She must have used a teleportation talisman to come immediately.” He finishes sheepishly.

Healer He, like always, gathers her composure first. “Come in!” She calls.

Sure enough when the door opens, Baoshan Sanren steps inside, but she doesn’t close the door after herself. Instead she looks back and motions for Lan Zhan to follow after her. The child’s eyes widen before awkwardly complying and following after her, closing the door after himself.

Xiao Xingchen smiles at his Master, who, true to her immortal status, looks exactly the same as she did two years ago. Her shining silver hair is half up in a bun, with the rest cascading down her back. She is quite tall for a woman, nearly as tall as Xiao Xingchen himself, and wears white robes with accents the same bright silver as her hair.

She does not bow as she greets the people in the room, simply inclining her head. “Greetings,” She says in a voice as smooth as honey. “Lan Qiren, Jiang Fengmian, Dai He, Xingchen,” She looks down at the child next to her, smiling. “And Lan Zhan.” She turns to Xiao Xingchen. “I thank you for calling me as soon as you heard news of him.” She approaches the bed, looking sadly down at the unconscious child. She sighs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, drawing Lan Zhan up with her. “His lives have been hard up to this point.” She bows to Qiren. “I thank you for taking him in no matter the animosity between my daughter and yourself. I do not agree with how you parent your nephews, but I thank you all the same because having a home and warm food to eat is better than living on the streets no matter how little affection one receives.” Qiren flinches, but stays quiet.

“Now, if I could have everyone leave, so I can examine the child and help his condition.” The adults leave without protest, not wanting to anger the immortal. When Qiren motions for his nephew to follow, Immortal Baoshan just holds the child tighter and motions for Qiren to leave. 

…

Baoshan Sanren sighs when the room is empty and sets the child down further up the bed, by the other child’s head. She takes an herb sachet out of her sleeve and holds it under Wei Ying’s noise, watching as the child inhales the herbs before startling awake. His eyes dart back and forth before he relaxes when he sees his friend seated next to him. 

Baoshan Sanren bows to the two children. “Forgive me, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. I believe the tragedy that happened in your last lives was indirectly my fault.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

The silver haired woman bows to the two children. “Forgive me, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. I believe the tragedy that happened in your last lives was indirectly my fault.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. She knows. Somehow, she knows who they are, and somehow knows about the time travel thing. He doesn’t bother playing dumb and says. “I have a few questions.”

The woman makes a pained face. “Before you start asking, will you please let me explain a few things?”

Wei Wuxian nods. If she’s going to start talking first, he has no objections.

She sighs. “My name is Baoshan Sanren.” Wei Wuxian startles, and sees the minute up-ticks in Lan Zhan’s eyebrows that tell the same. “As an immortal, I am granted a few… privileges. There is a group of us with the same privileges that I will call the Fate Readers.”

“So… privileges mean powers, and your specific group can read fate.” Wei Wuxian says, receiving a nod. “So do you guys like, look at someone and it gives you their whole life story or something?”

Baoshan Sanren considers the question before nodding. “That’s not entirely correct, but that’s as much as I am allowed to explain.”

Wei Wuxian frowns. “What do you mean? Are you not allowed to tell us certain things? Because of the Fate Readers?”

Baoshan Sanren stills. “I am not allowed to tell you because one of the Fate Readers broke a principal law, altering both of your lives permanently and breaking a cycle that has been going on since the start of time. There is only a small trusted group of us left, while the rest are under suspicion. Because of the interference last time, while we are allowed to help you, we may not influence your lives' main events.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Wei Wuxian waves his hands. “So you’re saying that one of you Fate Readers broke some really important rules, ruined our lives, and now that we get to start over, you can bend the rules a little, but you don’t want to end up a rule-breaker like the other guy? Or girl?”

Baoshan Sanren nods.

“Your group sent us back in time.” Lan Zhan says. Wei Wuxian whips his head around to stare at him.

It sounds like a statement, but Baoshan Sanren nods anyway. 

“Wait, really?” Wei Wuxian says. “Well, I guess it would make sense.” He says after a few seconds. “You guys deal with fate, so dealing with time wouldn’t be that much of a leap. But why us? There were plenty of people who deserved a second chance, and I’m not ungrateful or anything, but I’ve killed people. Lan Zhan isn’t called Hanguang-jun for no reason, but I’m different. I killed people, and raised corpses, and was hated just as much as Wen Ruohan. So I guess my question is, ‘Why me?’”

Baoshan Sanren stays quiet and focuses on her hands in her lap. She finally shakes her head. “I can’t tell you. My partner is supposed to find you later in your lives, and if you have reached a certain milestone, she will be able to answer your question and a lot more.”

Wei Wuxian considers this. “So it’s not that you can’t tell us, it's just that you can’t tell us now, before we… hit a certain milestone? Like reaching a certain point in our cultivation or something?”

Baoshan Sanren hums. “In essence, yes. But instead of cultivation, it has to do with an aspect of your fates.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I fear there is not much more I can tell you.” She takes another herb sachet out of her sleeve. “Here.” She hands it to Wei Wuxian. “My partner is skilled in the healing arts and has taught me a few things. These herbs will heal some of the worst burns to your meridians. Make it into a tea and drink it once a day until the herbs are gone. Preferably at the same time everyday.”

Wei Wuxian takes the herbs and nods. “Thank you.”

Baoshan Sanren smiles. “Think nothing of it. I am your grandmother. It is my job to care for you in your mother’s absence.”

“Thank you… Granny?” Wei Wuxian makes it a question, and smiles when Baoshan Sanren nods.

“You too, Lan Wangji. You will call me ‘Granny’ or not at all.” Granny says.

Wei Wuxian almost laughs at Lan Zhan’s expression. It would be improper to call someone he isn’t related to ‘Granny’, but at the same time, calling her anything but the name she tells him to could be taken as an insult. Lan Zhan bows before saying, “Thank you for helping Wei Ying… Grandmother.” His face twists up, like he’s just eaten something particularly sour, but he doesn’t retract the name. 

Baoshan Sanren softly laughs. “Acceptable. What good young men you are, being so polite to your elders.” She stands and fixes her robes. “I have to leave now.” She says. “I will send letters once every few months. I will add as much information as I can about your situation once I’ve talked with the others, and I will also add stories about your mothers.”

They both look at her with wide eyes.

She smiles. “They will be sent by a talisman designed by myself, so they will pass through the Cloud Recesses wards and be sent directly to your home. The letter will remain invisible to others until it is touched by either of you.” She bows. “I will be on my way now. My partner will find you when the time is right. Good luck.” With that she leaves, disappearing in a flash of light once she leaves the infirmary. 

Seeing that Granny is gone, the adults trickle back into the room, visibly relieved to see him awake. Wei Wuxian blinks at the two unfamiliar faces. 

“Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen. Your uncle and his cultivation partner.” Lan Zhan says quietly.

Wei Wuxian turns wide eyes to Lan Zhan. “Uncle? Like-” He motions after Granny. Lan Zhan nods.

Xiao Xingchen smiles as he sees Wei Wuxian awake and clutching the herb sachet. “I see my Master has left you with some medicine. That looks to be the tea for curing meridian burns.” He turns to Uncle. “That will need to be made into a tea once a day until the herbs are gone. It works best if it's at the same time each day.” Uncle nods and takes the herbs to store in his sleeves. 

A healer approaches Wei Wuxian and does a last check on his meridians. “His meridians look stable even when he is awake, so I will let him leave the infirmary for now. I want him back every day of the Conference for a check-up, and then a check-up once a week back at the Lan Sect. Have the healers check him before he drinks the tea so they know what to look for. If he has another incident, I want to be notified so I can travel to Cloud Recesses. I also want medical records of any known family sent to Lotus Pier. I am going to make myself an expert on this boy’s condition.” She looks at everyone assembled. “Do I make myself clear?” Everyone nods.

She smiles. “Good. Now please leave my infirmary. The boy is well and you have a Conference to get to.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

It’s been a month since the conference, and many things have happened.

For one, Lan Xichen now lives in the Jingshi with them, with the Hanshi being kept as a place for Lan Xichen to work on private Sect matters. Initially, it was nice. Lan Zhan was able to see his brother more, and with Lan Xichen’s polite demeanor, Wei Wuxian let him try to fill the shijie shaped hole in his life.

But then a big problem arose. With Lan Xichen with Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan so often, for meals, downtime, and study time, they couldn’t talk about the future and their current mission, much less randomly leave to investigate when any excuse they made up would be instantly seen through. Lan Xichen was a child, but he was also a few years older than them and smarter than the usual people they had to fool. And even if they outsmarted Lan Xichen, his well-meaning Big Brother Instincts had almost got them caught when they were three minutes late to lunch and Lan Xichen had come to look for them.

Then Lan Xichen’s birthday came and went. They had dinner with Uncle as celebration, and Lan Xichen was given a xiao made of white jade by Uncle, since he had graduated from using practice flutes. Wei Wuxian gave Lan Xichen a drawing of the magnolia tree outside the Library Pavilion and Lan Zhan gave his brother a pressed gentian from outside their mother’s house.

And then the first snow came. Both nightly and daily temperatures dropped, and a good few inches of snow layered the ground come morning, making their excursions more dangerous and more easily trackable. They could no longer make excuses when their footprints were an obvious beacon in the snow. 

Because of both of these things, their investigation ground to a screeching halt. Wei Wuxian was only able to visit Aunty Yue during nightly snow storms, so that his tracks would be covered by morning, but they couldn’t be too severe or he risked hypothermia without his golden core to keep him warm. Aunty Yue was worried, but she knew he was stubborn and that she couldn’t stop him. She always gave him tea, and wrapped him in a warm blanket by the stove, and then sent him on his way with an extra cloak.

They also couldn’t move as easily during the day. If they set up a playdate in the women’s quarters, they had to go, and they couldn’t snoop around much less tracked areas, because it would be clear someone was where they shouldn’t be. It effectively cut down their investigation areas to just the women’s quarters, with rare excursions to Mao Fenfang’s rooms when she was busy.

Things between Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan were also… awkward. Wei Wuxian had said some things at Lotus Pier that, now that they were back at Cloud Recesses, he barely had the courage to look Lan Zhan in the eye. He insulted Lan Zhan’s mother. If someone insulted Wei Wuxian’s mom he would probably break their nose.

So when they get home, (Wei Wuxian has to stop for a second after that thought. Home. Cloud Recesses as his home.) Wei Wuxian expects Lan Zhan to yell at him, to hit him, to something , But Lan Zhan just… moves on . He doesn’t hurt Wei Wuxian or even talk about what happened, and he helps with the investigation like usual, and still cuddles with him at night, even if he would probably be more comfortable cuddling with his brother in the second bed. Lan Zhan just goes back to his life like nothing happened and Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to think about that. So he just follows Lan Zhan’s lead. He doesn’t mention it in conversation, he doesn’t demand Lan Zhan punish him, and he lets Lan Zhan cuddle up to him in the night, even as he felt Lan Xichen watching them curiously for the first few nights, until he came to accept his brother sleeping with his new friend instead of his family as just another fact of the world, like the sky was blue, and that the snow was cold.

When Wei Wuxian’s sixth birthday rolls around, they have dinner together again, and Uncle gives Wei Wuxian a painting set with some special paper, explaining that he saw Wei Wuxian was interested in painting at Lan Xichen’s birthday dinner, and that he deserves a painting set to call his own, instead of making due with calligraphy brushes and copying paper. 

Wei Wuxian almost cried at how sincere and awkward Uncle was when handing over the gifts. He knew that Uncle hadn’t known him long, so it seemed he was worried Wei Wuxian wouldn’t like the gifts, or that his observation had been incorrect. Wei Wuxian was quick to dispel his worries, thanking him and offering to paint him a picture of anything he wanted, and poor, poor Uncle had turned bright red and blurted out ‘snow’. 

“How am I supposed to paint snow? Isn’t it just white?” Wei Wuxian had asked, feigning actual confusion and curiosity, trying to keep a straight face as Uncle turned even more red.

He then laughed himself hoarse while Uncle stiltedly explained that he wanted a picture of the magnolia tree now that it had snowed, then Uncle had to physically restrain the urge to yell at Wei Wuxian for breaking rules.

-----

Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan were laying in bed, as it was long past curfew, but they weren’t sleeping just yet. It had started snowing just before curfew, and it was still very light, meaning it was the perfect time for Wei Wuxian to visit Aunty Yue. But Wei Wuxian wanted Lan Zhan to come with him. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian whispered. Wei Wuxian felt Lan Zhan’s hands clench the back of his robes before releasing. Wei Wuxian took that chance to roll over and face Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan was quiet and just blinked, waiting for Wei Wuxian to speak. 

“I have to visit Aunty Yue tonight, while the snow’s still light.” Wei Wuxian continued, still whispering. “I want you to come, too.”

Lan Zhan glanced towards his brother on the other side of the room.

“Don’t worry about him.” Wei Wuxian says. “I always give him special tea when I sneak out, so he’ll stay asleep for at least a few hours no matter how much noise we make. But Lan Zhan, I need you to come with me.”

Lan Zhan nodded and sat up, but Wei Wuxian stopped him from getting off the bed. “Wait, wait, Lan Zhan! I enjoy your company, but you’re not coming with for no reason.”

“Why?” Lan Zhan asks, genuinely curious.

“Ah, well…” Wei Wuxian trails off uncertainly. Lan Zhan’s brow furrow. “We’re running out of time.” Wei Wuxian whispers again, even if he doesn’t need to be quiet. Lan Zhan looks down to his lap. “I think we need to tell Aunty Yue the truth.” Wei Wuxian says after a pause. “We can’t see her as often now, and if something happens, or if someone new visits, she needs to know that she has to tell us, so we can help her.” Lan Zhan stays quiet. “Come on, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian urges. “We need her cooperation, and if anyone will believe us without proof, it's her.”

Lan Zhan gives a shuddering sigh and looks up. “Mn.” He nods.

“You’ll come with?” Wei Wuxian says excitedly.

Lan Zhan nods again. “I have proof. She will believe us.”

“Wait really?!” Wei Wuxian exclaims. “What proof?” Lan Zhan just gets off the bed and grabs his robes. “Lan Zhaaaaaan!” Wei Wuxian goes after him, grabbing his own robes. “I’m your friend! Can’t you tell me?”

Lan Zhan stops at the door, a cloak over his shoulders, and looks back at Wei Wuxian. “You will find out when we get there. Come.”

Wei Wuxian whines and follows Lan Zhan out into the snow.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji

Lan Wangji trudges through the knee-deep snow, Wei Ying following close behind and making a game out of stepping in Lan Wangji’s footprints. The snow has been picking up in the last few minutes, but for now it pleasantly tickles his face and nestles among his eyelashes, making his world tinted and blurry for the few moments it takes for the flakes to melt away.

Lan Wangji loves the snow, but he loves Mother more. The image of her cottage against the trees and snow becomes clear, and Lan Wangji warms from the inside, almost indifferent to the cold even without a core. He even thinks he almost smiles.

Lan Wangji heads towards the door but stops in his tracks when a black, red, and white blur flies by him, scrabbles up the side of the cottage, pushes open the window, and falls inside with a yelp and a crash. Mother’s laugh follows soon after. And because Lan Wangji is so, so weak for that black, red, and white blur he just sighs and climbs up after the other boy, albeit much more carefully. When he reaches the window, he straddles the sill, sees a clear patch of floor below himself, and drops inside (without a yelp or crash).

He shuts the window before too much snow blows inside and watches as Mother startles at the extra presence. He glances towards Wei Ying. It seems him being here wasn’t something that was told to Mother.

“A-Zhan,” Mother says quietly, guarded. “I… It’s past curfew.” She finally says, and why should that matter- Oh. Five year old Lan Wangji has never intentionally broken a rule. But he is not five years old anymore.

“I know,” Lan Wangji says. “Play a song?”

Mother seems to startle, eyes wide. “A song?” She echoes, before shaking her head and smiling. “Of course, A-Zhan.” She retreats to a different room in the house and returns with her guqin. She settles on the bed with the instrument across her lap, urging the children onto the bed after removing their shoes and huddling in blankets.

“What kind of song do you want?” Mother asks. “There’s the happy one, the sad ones, and then the angry ones.”

Lan Wangji blinks, flushing at how simple he was as a child. As a child, he would categorize music by feeling, which was probably the biggest tell that he himself would become a skilled guqin player in the future.

He now knows that the happy one was a love song, presumably composed by either Mother or Father. It turns out a love language can be hereditary. 

The sad ones were lullabies, which sounds kind of morbid as he thinks about it now, but they were always quiet and solemn, which probably sounded sad to a five year old. Those sad ones are Lan lullabies. He doesn’t know if different Sects’ lullabies sound happier.

(He doesn’t know how to feel about originally thinking his own Sect’s songs for children sounded sad. Do other children think that? Aren’t lullabies meant to sound calm and at peace for the express purpose of lulling children to sleep?)

Then the angry ones… those are folk songs. He blinks and just has to sit and let that sink in. Those songs sounded like Wei Ying. Lively and exuberant and against every Lan precept there was for showing excessive emotion and being loud. He sighs. It seems like even five year old Lan Wangji reacted towards new feelings with anger.

“One of the folk songs, please.” Mother just blinks and stares at him. “From Yunmeng, please.”

His mother looks stiff as stone, but then she nods and starts playing, the sounds stilted and rushed before she finally settles into the music, both her and Wei Ying humming along with their eyes closed.

Lan Wangji just sits and listens, watching two of the people he loves utterly at peace as they listen to music they obviously hold dear. Lan Wangji takes a steadying breath before he speaks. 

“Wangji.”

Wei Ying startles and nearly falls off the bed. Mother’s hands reflexively clench and spasm, letting forth a loud burst of discordant notes, ending the song.

She stares at him and whispers, “Where did you hear that word? From your father?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “I have only seen Father once, at Brother’s naming ceremony a year ago. He did not speak to me.”

Mother’s eyes narrow. “Who are you?”

“I am your son. Your guqin’s name is Wangji. Which is also my courtesy name.”

“You can’t have a courtesy name! You’re only a child-” Mother stills. “You knew Wangji’s name. I haven’t told anyone but him… You said you are my son?”

Lan Wangji nods. “Mn. We were 23 when we were taken back in time to our five year old selves. Wangji was given to me as a gift. That is how I know its name.”

Mother blinks. “Time travel? 23?” She grabs Lan Wangji and cradles him to her chest so fast Lan Wangji doesn’t even have time to blink. “Oh, my sweet child. Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Why didn’t you tell me?” Lan Wangji stills in Mother’s arms and can only let the questions wash over him. He isn’t sure he knows how to speak, much less answer her questions.

“Wait.” Mother continues. “You said ‘we’.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nods. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying sits up straighter as attention is turned on him and squeaks out, “That’s me!”

Mother just sighs and hugs Wei Ying too. “You silly boys.” She says fondly, shaking her head. “You should know better than to mess with stuff like that. And as grown men, no less!”

“Umm, Aunty Yue?” Wei Ying says. Mother blinks at him. “We- uh- We didn’t actually do this to ourselves.”

Mother stills before her lip curls up. “Who-!”

“Wait, wait! We don’t know who it is either! But we know that the good guys did this.”

Mother gives Wei Ying a confused look. “If you don’t know who it is, then how do you know they are good?”

“We talked to someone.” Wei Ying explains. “They explained that their group did this to us, and that it was a second chance because- because…”  Wei Ying trails off.

“I died?” Wei Ying whispers in the quietest voice imaginable.

Mother cradles Wei Ying’s face in her hands, tears springing to her eyes. “You died… does that mean-”

“No- no… It was just me. Lan Zhan was… alive.” Whipped, broken, not fine, but alive.

“Okay.” Mother takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Well-” She laughs. “Not okay, but… there’s a reason you’re telling me this, right?”

“You died.” Lan Wangji says. Wei Ying fixes him with a wide-eyed look, because Lan Wangji has never before said the words, always letting silence and other words act as replacements. But there can be no more excuses. Mother will die if they do not save her. She has a right to know what her fate was.

“...Me?” Mother whispers. “How?”

Wei Ying speaks now, even as he shakes his head. “We don’t know. Which is why we need your help. We know when, but we don’t know how, why, or who killed you- is going to kill you.” He amends.

Mother nods along, entirely serious for someone who is listening to details about her own death. “So you want me to tell you if anything strange happens or if I meet anyone new.”

“Mn.”

“You can’t leave here.” Wei Ying says. “So we’ll do research and keep a lookout around Cloud Recesses, but we can’t always watch you or what happens around you, and with the date fast approaching, we’ll need all the help we can get if we’re all going to come out of this alive and healthy.”

Wei Ying unfolds himself from the hug and hops off the bed, going to a nearby desk and grabbing talisman paper. He climbs back towards Mother and shoves a blank paper at her. “Here. I’m going to teach you how to send a note to the Jingshi. When something happens, send a note. We won’t always be able to meet you, so try to gauge how much of a threat that piece of information is, and we can try and meet as soon as possible, okay?”

Mother nods along, her eyes flitting back and forth from Wei Ying’s face to the talisman paper where he’s drawing the note talisman with his finger.

Once Mother is sure she knows the talisman, she sends them off with an extra cloak each and a promise to send them a note as soon as she notices something.

Wei Ying waves as they fade into the snowy night, a promise to 'visit soon' already fading on the wind.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

The nightly meetings with Aunty Yue have been growing more infrequent with winter closing in. On a good week, Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan can meet her two or three times a week. On bad weeks, only once if they're lucky. Sometimes they go a whole week without seeing her.

Currently, they’re meeting Aunty Yue after a four day break, so it could be worse. Winter has been steadily getting worse in the past month, hence the larger gaps between meetings. 

That all important date that could spell either a miracle or a disaster is also fast approaching. They have about a month and a half now till time's up.

Which is why when Aunty Yue says, ‘ Would you boys like to hear the story of how I met A-Zhan’s and A-Huan’s father? It might help you boys with your investigation. ’ Wei Wuxian actually facepalms and exclaims, “Of course!”

Both Lan Zhan and Aunty Yue startle and blink in a fashion so similar it’s a wonder Wei Wuxian couldn’t see the similarity sooner. Lan Zhan doesn’t look anything like his mother, but he sure acts like her perfect copy sometimes.

“Since Aunty Yue is in on our investigation now, she can tell us all the classified details of how she got into the Lan Clan and why she’s hidden in the records.” Wei Wuxian says, and he can tell that if Lan Zhan was more physical with his emotions, he would be facepalming too.

“You boys got into the records?” Aunty Yue interjects, voice filled with curiosity and concern in equal measure. 

“Mn.” Lan Zhan nods. “The first step in our investigation.” Wei Wuxian nods along proudly. Lan Zhan took the initiative to speak without Wei Wuxian having to kickstart the conversation and give Lan Zhan a chance for input. It seems these meetings with Aunty Yue are good for more than just the investigation.

Wei Wuxian thinks of Lan Zhan like a butterfly. Most people catch him as a boring caterpillar, and move on. Some put in a little effort, and nurture the caterpillar into a chrysalis, but then even the brief excitement of the caterpillar is gone. But those who are actually close to him and wait through the full cycle get to meet him in the butterfly stage. 

Lan Zhan may seem quiet or odd or boring the first few interactions, but if you wait and put effort into knowing him, you get to see him at his full potential, with his quiet beauty and half sentences that show his intelligence and secret wishes if you know where to look.

If you wait the full cycle and put in the effort along the way, you find that Lan Zhan isn’t actually quiet, he’s just reserved with his words and careful to only say what he needs to say. If you wait, you find he isn’t actually odd, he’s just shy and not sure how to interact with people beyond a formal setting. You find that he isn’t boring, he just enjoys things that most people would think of as punishment or learning, not fun.

Which is why Wei Wuxian is so proud of Lan Zhan for starting a conversation all by himself. Sure, it's just answering a question from his mother, but he even added extra input beyond ‘mn’ when it wasn’t needed.

So, progress.

“A-Ying!”

Wei Wuxain startles at his name from Aunty Yue. “Huh?” He says eloquently, because he has no idea what else to say when he’s missed the entire conversation.

“I just wanted to start the story, but you weren't paying attention.” Aunty Yue says. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, I was just thinking Lan Zhan’s a butterfly.” Again, Lan Zhan and Aunty Yue share twin blinks of confusion.

So, because he’s never known when to just shut up, he explains his entire thought process, beaming when Lan Zhan’s ears get redder and redder and Aunty Yue just nods along with her own smile.

“That does sound like A-Zhan.” Aunty Yue says with a contemplative hum, faux serious, though Wei Wuxian can see she’s trying and failing to hold back her smile.

Wei Wuxian gasps. “So you like teasing Lan Zhan, too!”

Aunty Yue laughs. “Oh, A-Ying, I’ve been teasing him since you got to the Lan Sect, you were just too in your thoughts to notice.”

Wei Wuxian gasps again, turning his attention on Lan Zhan this time. “Lan Zhan! Why didn’t you tell me I had a partner to tease you with! You were purposely depriving me of something I needed to live!” Lan Zhan just levels him with an unimpressed stare. “No! You don’t understand how serious this is, Lan Zhan! Teasing is always the best with more people, and if more people tease, then the less we actually need to tease you. Quantity over quality!”

“That is not how it works, Wei Ying.”

"Of course it is! So anyway, if I kept teasing you by myself, I wouldn’t get enough teasing, and I could've died!”

“You lived without teasing me for the entirety of your childhood-”

“Don’t remind me!” Wei Wuxian whines.

“-And I did not meet a corpse trying to smuggle wine into the Lan Sect.”

Aunty Yue bursts out laughing and it takes a few seconds to process that Lan Zhan just made a joke.

“Lan Zhaaaaaaan! You-”

“Boys, boys,” Aunty Yue placates, still trying to stifle a few giggles and wiping tears from her eyes. “We’re going to run out of time for the story if you keep bickering.”

“Bickering-!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be quiet.”

“...”

“No, actually! I’ll be quiet, I promise. This is important, I get that, so I’ll be quiet.”

With a sigh Lan Zhan turns back to his mother. “We will be quiet and listen.”

“Alright.” Aunty Yue begins. “It all started when…”

...

Shen Yue didn’t know her birth parents. Her adoptive parents told her a story when she was a little older, explaining that she was adopted by them when she was a newborn.

They told her she was left in a basket with a blanket, her name, ‘Yue’, and a guqin, presumably from one of her parents, outside of the small nomadic village where her parents lived. Her parents were part of a group of rogue cultivators that decided to band together. It’s not quite a clan, and since they moved every few months, it wasn’t quite a named village either.

Her village is made up of cultivators from many different backgrounds, so they’re mostly self-sufficient. They have a family of farmers for food, with enough hunters to get any meat they need. They even have a broad shouldered old man who can make anything, from an instrument, to a sword, to even furniture. The legend within the group says the man is immortal, and instead of furthering his cultivation in his long life, he chose to learn crafting skills. Since he was immortal and his family and friends weren’t, he had to learn how to be self-sufficient, hence the skills. 

When Shen Yue was ten, she was given a sword like most cultivator children, which she named ‘Yangguang’ (A/n- Sunlight.), and by this time, she had been taught to play her guqin, Wangji, and was given permission to use it on night hunts.

She went on her first night hunt when she was 13. There was a walking corpse outside the village. It was corralled by her parents and then they stepped back and let her take the lead. A few talismans and a well placed slash of her sword later, the corpse was dead and she had officially completed her first ‘solo’ night hunt. 

But it wasn’t until she was 15 that a very special night hunt happened.

-----

It was a night like any other. The days had started to blur together since her parents died on a night hunt nearly three months ago. She had been passed around between families in the village, but none could fill the two holes in her heart. 

Maybe it was the lingering grief, but tonight she was sloppy. There were two corpses left. There had been four, and she had killed more by herself before, but for some reason she struggled to kill the final two.

Which is why when she tripped, she thought her life was over. The first corpse’s hand was hurtling towards her face in a deadly arc, sure to take her head off. And so she closed her eyes, sending up a final prayer that she met her parents in the afterlife.

But then seconds passed. The clearing was quiet. And she definitely wasn’t dead as she completed her earlier fall and fell right on her butt. 

She yelps and opens her eyes, finding the corpses dead and a girl a few years older than herself standing over her fallen form.

The girl stops her motion of trying to touch Shen Yue after she sees Shen Yue’s eyes open and smiles. 

“Oh, good. I thought you’d died.” The girl holds out a hand. “I’m Cangse Sanren. 19, rogue cultivator.”

Shen Yue blinks at the offered hand before blushing and taking it, being hauled up back to standing. “Uh, I’m Shen Yue. I’m a rogue cultivator, too. Oh, and I’m only 15.”

“And where’s your parents little A-Yue?”

Shen Yue can’t help tearing up at the mention of her parents, and it seems like the girl understands.

“Oh- No, no, A-Yue, don’t cry.” The girl wipes Shen Yue’s tears. “It’s okay. Your parents wouldn’t want you to cry, right?”

Shen Yue manages to nod.

“So if you gotta cry, try to smile too. Your parents would want you to smile rather than cry.”

Shen Yue tries to smile while crying, but her face must make some funny expression because the other girl laughs instead. Shen Yue is so startled she starts laughing too. Soon, even though she's still thinking about her parents, she’s smiling.

“See? Isn’t that much better. And you look a lot prettier too when you don’t have snot hanging out your nose.”

Shen Yue blushes red and wipes her face with her sleeve, coaxing a chuckle out of the older girl.

Cangse Sanren taps a finger to her lips. “15, huh?” She smiles. “Then how about you call me ‘Big Sis’?”

Shen Yue blinks. “You’ll be my sister? For real?” For some reason, even though she’s just met the girl, she feels more like family than anyone else in her village. Shen Yue smiles, with no sadness this time. “I’d like that.”

Cangse Sanren’s eyes gleam. “I’d like that…” She prompts.

Shen Yue laughs. “I’d love to call you that, Big Sis!”

Shen Yue’s new big sister laughs. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Big Sis’ll come and teach you every few days. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to take on a dragon, much less a few measly corpses.”

“Mn!”

-----

The second most important night hunt of her life happens on her ‘graduation’, or a day when she’s 17 that Big Sis proclaims her ready for a final test before she becomes a cultivator with the ‘Sanren stamp of approval’. 

There was a nearby nest of Terror birds, so her final test was to kill one using a skill called ‘chord assassination’ taught to her by Big Sis. Big Sis says she learned the skill herself from her Master, who’s also her adoptive mother, and that her Master learned it from her partner. Big Sis doesn’t know who the ‘partner’ is, but Shen Yue thinks she must be powerful to be able to use something as thin and unassuming as a guqin string as a weapon. 

When Shen Yue was first learning the skill, she broke the string many times. Sometimes she would use too much spiritual energy, turning the string brittle instead of strengthening it. Other times she used too little energy, causing the string to cut into her hands or snap because it was too weak.

But now, after nearly two years, her success rate was nearly 70%, and Big Sis deemed her ready for her final test. 

Bis Sis and she flew up high on their swords, circling above the place the Terror Birds hunted. When a few birds started circling below her, she dived and pounced on her victim. She landed on the bird, sheathed her sword, and threw out a string to wrap around the bird’s neck. But when she pulled taut the string snapped. She was too excited and used too much spiritual energy. The bird thrashed and she was forced to mount her sword and dispatch the bird using talismans and her backup weapon, a bow, instead. 

Big Sis and she killed the current group, circled back up into the sky, and waited again, this time closer to their roosting cave. 

A group came again, and this time she was ready. She took a calming breath and pounced again. She sheathed her sword, took out a string, and struck. Her grip was solid, the string was holding strong, and with a few spiritual energy fueled tugs, the bird was dead and falling into the cave. 

“I did it, Big Sis!” Shen Yue exclaims towards Big Sis, who had killed her own bird and was sitting with her in the cave. “I killed one with only the string!” 

Big Sis whips around to stare at Shen Yue, a wide grin on her face. “Really!? You really did it?” Shen Yue nods proudly. “Good job, A-Yue! You’ve officially graduated!”

Big Sis jumps off her bird carcass and sweeps Shen Yue up into a hug. “Don’t worry, we killed them all.” Shen Yue is confused at the statement until she notices the other people in the cave. There’s a pair of girls and a few boys, two of which are intently focused on her and Big Sis. The one focused on Big Sis is a skinny boy who looks to be barely into his teenage years. Big Sis smiles, looking a little feral with a show of teeth and blood on her robes, but the boy just blushes and looks away. 

The boy looking at Shen Yue looks like a prince. He’s in robes so white they don’t look real, especially with how dusty the cave is. He looks to be only a few years younger than herself, but not because he looks like a kid, but because he looks kinda… cute.

Shen Yue blushes and manages to offer a little wave at the boy, who’s blushing just as much as she is, before she’s dragged away by Big Sis.

She meets the boy (Qingheng-jun, Lan Shanyuan, A-Yuan), frequently on night hunts along with his friends and slowly finds herself… falling in love.

Chapter Text

Shen Yue

Shen Yue loved the stars. She thought they looked kind of lonely, but at the same time, they looked free. They glowed as bright as they wanted to, and always appeared in the sky night after night, no matter what happened in the world. So they were free, but also looked lonely with how spread out they were across the sky, fated to never touch.

Shen Yue liked to apply this same problem to her own life. Her and A-Yuan had made leaps and bounds in their relationship from when they were shy teens. They were adults now, which meant more time for night hunts (dates) and more freedom to do whatever they wanted. 

But that also meant they now had to deal with adult problems. Shen Yue loved A-Yuan, and has told him as much since she was 19, but love couldn’t solve everything. A-Yuan was Sect Heir. He was expected to get married, but because of the Lan curse of only loving once, they were opposed to arranged marriages. Otherwise, A-Yuan would have been married off as soon as he reached 18 like any other Sect Heir. A-Yuan had spoken to her on the quiet nights where it was only the two of them. His Clan was putting more and more pressure on him, using veiled words and hidden meanings to make his unmarried status painfully aware, citing duty and loyalty to make not so quiet comments about the declining state of the Clan.

The Lan Clan has been having less and less children, and now the Clan has only two main descendants where there used to be dozens. And yet the Sect Heir was 21 and had yet to mention marriage, much less a lover. Oh, what a monumental burden this is for the Sect Elders, not knowing if the future their forefathers built with their bare hands is secured, or whether the Lan Clan will be able to live on.

Just look at the Jiang! Their newly crowned Sect Leader has known his wife since they were children and are expected to get pregnant soon. And the Wen! Why, they have so many cousins from the main Clan and side branches that the branches could be a Clan on their own. Even the Jin have contributed somehow. While Sect Leader Jin may be going against his marriage duties, he has the right idea securing the Clan’s future with so many possible spare heirs should the legitimate ones perish or refuse to have children. And the Nie Sect Leader has not one wife, but two! A pair of sworn sisters who have already born him a son. 

But look at the poor, poor Lan. One heir is turning out to be a celibate scholar, perfectly suited to teaching the new generation but fated not to have any children of his own. And the Sect Heir has refused even meeting any prospective matches. The Lan believe in love, but you have to meet someone to be able to make it happen. And this would be fine if the Sect Heir were to find the matches on his own, but it seems even that hasn’t happened!

Woe is the Lan Clan, fated to meet its end at the hands of its own Heirs.

A-Yuan told her how he arranged a fake engagement with a friend to buy them time. They had a plan, but it had to wait till summer. For the Elders to accept Shen Yue, she had to join a clan. The Mao clan accepted rogue cultivator’s as long as they passed the exams they held during the summer. But the Elders were getting desperate. A-Yuan had asked a friend for a favor, and their ‘courting’ would keep the Elders quiet long enough for Shen Yue to be accepted as a disciple. It was a waiting game.

So Shen Yue could only sit and listen as her love told her of his insecurities and stressors, and she would cradle him to her bosom as he fell asleep under watch of her own eyes and the stars. Where no Clan would bother him, no matchmakers would hound him, no responsibilities would whisper to him from the deepest reaches of his mind. Out in that forest clearing where only the stars would witness them, they were free.

But it couldn’t stay that way.

-----

The beginning of the end started just like any other night.

Shen Yue and A-Yuan were out on a date- ahem! A night hunt. They were night hunting, something that they had done numerous times before. 

Anyway, they were night hunting, but a conversation earlier in the day, while well-meaning, had been bothering her. 

“What a beautiful young lady!” An older woman had said to Shen Yue and A-Yuan, who had been dressed in drab brown robes as a disguise. “She’ll make the perfect wife, young man.” She had said, making both their cheeks flush. “Staying home with the kids while you go out and protect the house like a man should. Oh, here, take an extra steamed bun- no, no, take it, it’s free. You’ll need to add more meat onto her bones if you want her to have healthy children.” 

Shen Yue had glanced at her thin and muscled frame and loosened her robes a tad, hiding her curves. Shen Yue had always been on the muscled side, and A-Yuan had never commented when they were washing at streams after a night hunt, but… maybe A-Yuan was just being polite. The woman, who thought Shen Yue was ashamed at being so skinny said good naturedly, “Oh, don’t fret deary, you have time yet. Don’t listen to any man that tells you being thin as a twig is the way to be. A little extra cushion is actually a good thing. Keeps you healthy when the nausea starts.”

Shen Yue had just nodded, but even hours later, in the middle of a fight with corpses, she was still thinking about the woman’s comment. Was she unattractive? Was A-Yuan just too polite to point out what the woman had noticed? Maybe she should stop training as much and eat a bit more. The woman said she would need it to bear children anyway, so why not start now? She wanted children with A-Yuan, she knew that much. And about staying home with the kids… maybe she should hide her core. Women were supposed to be weaker than men, it's why the woman stays home while the man protects the house and family. Shen Yue’s core has always been stronger than A-Yuan’s, but maybe… what if he was being polite again? Maybe he secretly loathes that she was stronger than him, but his Lan principles kept his mouth shut. Maybe…

“A-Yue!”

She startled at the call of her name and then felt the pain in her arm. She lashed out with her sword and dispelled the spirit that had made the wound.

Her eyes darted around the forest looking for more enemies, but the only thing she saw was a quickly advancing A-Yuan. And he didn’t look happy. 

“What were you thinking, zoning out like that!?” A-Yuan says, anger clear in his voice. “You could’ve died-!” Shen Yue averts her eyes and stares resolutely at the ground. She has no excuses. A-Yuan sighs. “Come on.” He says quietly. “Let’s get you patched up and then we can talk.”

Shen Yue nods and follows A-Yuan as moves to sit at the edge of the clearing and unpacks herbs and bandages from his qiankun pouch.

-----

“What happened back there?”

Shen Yue and A-Yuan sit in their favorite clearing under the stars. Her arm has been bandaged and cleaned and A-Yuan even managed to catch two pheasants to have as a late dinner. 

(A-Yuan prefers not to eat meat, but he had given his rations to a few street kids back in town. Pheasant it was.)

“I was distracted.” Shen Yue admits, playing with the edge of the bandages.

A-Yuan huffs a laugh, poking at the slowly dying fire with a stick. “I understood that much.” 

Shen Yue watches the sputtering flames reflect in A-Yuan’s golden eyes. “Do you remember the nice old lady in town? The one that gave me an extra steamed bun?” She questions quietly.

A-Yuan averts his eyes, his cheeks heating. “She did make it quite hard to forget her.” He mutters. His eyes widen as he turns to face her. “Was it the things she said?” 

Shen Yue nods and steels herself. A-Yuan is a Lan. They can’t lie. “The lady… made a comment about my figure.” A-Yuan blinks but stays quiet. “Is my body ugly-?” She gets cut off by a not so successfully veiled snort and faces her companion with narrowed eyes. A-Yuan has his hands clasped over his mouth, his eyes filled with mirth.

“Please continue.” He mumbles through his hands.

She tries again but is cut off by an open laugh this time. Oh, now he’s done it. “You find this funny?” She snaps.

“A-Yue-” A-Yuan placates, seeing that he’s one wrong word away from an early grave. “A-Yue.” He repeats seriously. “You’re the most attractive woman I’ve ever met.”

She blinks, her anger banking like a doused candle. “Then why did you laugh?”

A-Yuan shakes his head. “Because your question was so ridiculous. I think you’re beautiful, no matter if you're beheading a corpse, writing horrible calligraphy, or carrying me in your arms as if I was a babe.” He gives her a soft smile as she blushes. “I like you no matter what you look like. The lady may have been right about some people, but I must be the exception.”

She startles as a hand envelops hers before relaxing into the soothing touch. “So you… like that I’m not soft and curvy?”

A-Yuan shakes his head, his thumb skirting over her knuckles. “Do Lans lie?” He asks back.

Shen Yue smiles. “No. No they don’t.”

A-Yuan nods. “Then you have your answer.”

They lapse into quiet, hands still clasped between them, with the crickets and critters and calm breeze the only sounds. Shen Yue leans into A-Yuan’s shoulder, his hand leaving hers to hug her closer. She cuddles into her lover’s warmth as she watches the dying embers of the fire. 

Then a thought comes to her. A-Yuan won’t have to leave until the next morning. They’re completely alone with no one around for miles. They’ve been dating for years now, and yet…

Her face flushes bright red. “Prove it.”

A-Yuan hums noncommittally. “Hm?”

“Prove that you like my body no matter what.”

A-Yuan leans back to look her in the eyes. “What do you-?” Shen Yue almost laughs as he goes from confused to cheeks redder than the Wen Sect in less than a second. So much for the Lan being above bodily desires. “Oh.” He says, still bright red.

“Oh.” She echos, leaning back into his one-armed hug.

“But your arm-”

“My arm is fine.” She says. She’s not going to back down now. 

“We don’t have to…” He says after a few minutes of silence. 

“But?” She prompts.

“I want to.” He finishes in a guilty whisper, as if a Clan Elder is going to jump out of the bushes for him merely mentioning premarital sex.

“Hey.” Shen Yue gently calls, knowing where A-Yuan’s mind has wandered. Tear filled eyes meet hers.

“It’s not right.” He says. “It’s against the rules.” He sniffles. “But I really, really love you and… Lans only love once. If it's not you… it's not going to be anyone.” He takes a heaving breath. “So I want to. If you want to.”

“I want to.” She says, and kisses him. “We’re free.” She whispers against his lips.

A-Yuan sighs and the tension melts out of his frame. “We’re free.” he echos.

-----

This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were careful. They used the tonics when they were supposed to. Any healer worth their salt would be able to make a simple tonic. And yet-

She wraps the cloak tighter around her shoulders and knocks on the door. She glances around the streets of Yiling. It’s eerie now that night has fallen. A scratching noise can be heard in a nearby alley. She startles when the door opens.

Her big sister squints at her with sleepy eyes. “A-Yue? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

Shen Yue shoves past her into the house and takes a seat at the low table in the main room. She can see that Big Sis is confused, but she just goes over to the stove and starts making tea.

Shen Yue sits in silence and watches, not knowing what to say yet.

She almost jumps out of her seat when a teacup is set in front of her.

“What’s wrong Little Yue?” Big Sis prompts, sipping from her own cup of tea.

“Cangse?” A sleepy voice says. Wei Changze comes from down a short hallway, an outer robe bunched over his sleeping robes. “Do we have a guest?” He takes one step into the main room, stares at the two women, takes in the atmosphere, and then yawns before turning around and going back to bed, closing the door behind himself.

Big Sis smiles. “Smart man.” 

Shen Yue doesn’t really know what to make of the interaction, but it does help her calm down a bit.

“I- I need help.” Shen Yue admits, not meeting her sister’s eyes.

Bis Sis nods with a serious expression. “Anything you need, Little Yue. Just say the word.”

“Well…” Shen Yue really doesn’t know where to start. “I- Well, A-Yuan…”

Big Sis gasps. “Oh my god! Did your boyfriend die?!”

Shen Yue gapes at her sister. “What? No!”

“Was he kidnapped?”

“No!”

“Lost a few limbs?”

“Why are you being so morbid!?” Shen Yue yells. “No, he’s not dead, hurt, or missing.” She takes a calming sip of tea. “Now, if you’d let me finish-”

“Did he knock you up and then fuck off into the sunset?”

“For the last time, NO!”

“Oh, good.”

“Wait- I mean yes, but not entirely-”

“WHAT?!” Big Sis yells, spilling her tea as the table gives an ominous creak. “Please tell me the true part is him fucking off or I’ll make him wish he did.” She growls.

Shen Yue averts her eyes, but the silence is damning.

Big Sis sighs, using a spare cloth to start wiping up the spilled tea. “I’m not mad, A-Yue.” She says when Shen Yue stays silent. “Disappointed, but not mad.” Big Sis rounds the table and takes Shen Yue’s hands in hers. “I’m disappointed because he’s a Sect Heir. He can’t just leave like Changze did. And you know how his Sect is. The Lans wouldn’t want him dating a rogue, much less having a kid with one.”

“We used tonics.” Shen Yue offers weakly.

“You know those don’t always work for cultivators, A-Yue. Our bodies channel energy differently than normal people. So the tonics help, but they aren’t foolproof.”

“I guess we just weren’t really thinking…”

Big Sis snorts. “You could say that again.”

Shen Yue smacks her sister’s shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“In any case, it’s too late now.” Big Sis says. “I can have Changze sneak you into Lotus Pier for checkups and deliver your medicine once you get back to the village.” She shakes her head. “I don’t get what Changze sees in that pushover of a Sect Leader, but if their friendship will get you a certified healer, then I won’t complain.”

Shen Yue sniffles. “Thank you.”

“Nope.” Big Sis chides. “Remember? ‘Thank you’s and sorry’s can fuck off.’” She quotes. “I remember reading somewhere that some wise immortal said it.”

“I don’t think anyone but you says that.” Shen Yue smirks. “And you’re not a wise immortal.”

“Not yet! But I will be, just you watch!”

-----

“Thanks, Changze.” Shen Yue says, cradling the ginger tea in her hands as if it was a precious artefact.

“It’s nothing.” Changze says in that blase way of his. “You’re one of Cangse’s precious people. It’s the least I could do.”

“No, really.” Shen Yue asserts. “I was getting so nauseous I was ready to start praying. And the local healer was fresh out of ginger.”

“Is Shanyuan visiting soon?” Changze asks.

She hums. “In about a week or so.” She smiles and cradles her small bump. “I can’t wait to show him how much our little boy’s grown.”

Changze gives her a rare smile. “The healer was able to find the baby’s energy this early? You must be very proud.”

“I am, and I’m sure A-Yuan will be too.”

Changze stands in silence for a moment before he stiffly pats her shoulders in his version of a hug. Shen Yue snorts as he awkwardly clears his throat. “I have to get back, but is there anything else you need?”

Shen Yue takes a moment to think. “I might need new robes in a month or so. My usual ones are already getting a little tight around the waist.” Changze nods. “Have a safe trip back.” Shen Yue says as he quietly shuts the door to her house and leaves.

After Changze’s gone Shen Yue makes a beeline for the stove, wasting no time making her new tea. She’s so caught up in the chore that she almost doesn’t hear the knocking on the front door.

It’s late and she’s not expecting visitors. Changze must have forgotten something.

“One moment, Changze!” She calls. She turns off the stove so her water doesn’t boil over and goes to open the door.

“Did you forget-” She stills at the unfamiliar man in Lan robes standing in the doorway.

“You’re Shen Yue, right?” The man says in a dangerous tone.

She gulps and nods, hiding her shaking fingers in her robes. 

“I’ve heard you’ve been hanging around my student.”

“What-” She has no idea what this man is talking about, and her sword is too far away.

“And I’m sure you know that my student is a taken man. Engaged actually. So it wouldn’t be too out there for me to make sure your intentions were pure.”

“I’m sorry,” She says quickly. “But who are you-?”

The man snarls and she snaps her mouth shut. “Cut the bullshit. I saw you kissing him last week. And what do you think I saw today? You embraced that Wei bastard. So what are you after? Not only are you a homewrecker but you’re a filthy whore.” The man smiles, all teeth. “If you’re so open with your favors, why don’t you give me a chance too, huh? That’ll teach you to go after married men.”

Her voice quavers. “I- I don’t want-”

The man grabs her by the throat and pushes her back inside the house. She uses one hand to pry at the offending hand while shielding her belly with the other. She can’t risk her son.

She staggers backwards further as the man pushes and she yelps as she trips backwards over the table. 

“A-Yuan-!” She cries as the table digs painfully into her back.

The man growls and tightens his grip. She heaves for even a single breath. “Who knows how many men you’re seeing, and none have taught you it’s not polite to say another man’s name-”

She kicks at the man and he grunts and loosens his hold. She quickly scrambles across the table but only makes it a few feet before the man grabs at her again, catching her robes by the shoulder and ripping them at the seams. 

He drags her back, ripping her robes more and exposing her back and chest. The wind is knocked out of her as she’s slammed back onto the table.

The man leers at her exposed form. “I don’t know what they all see in you, but you're not bad looking. Just be quiet, sweetheart.” She cries out as he squeezes her breast and shoves a knee between her legs. “It’ll be over soon-”

And then the pressure is gone. Her front feels wet. She freezes as the man stills… then slumps to the side- then his headless body slumps to the side.

She looks up to see A-Yuan, shock written on his face and bloodied sword in a shaking hand.

“A-Yuan…” She breathes, standing on shaking legs.

She stops her advance as A-Yuan takes a startled step back. “A-Yuan?”

“I… I killed him…” A-Yuan whispers. “I killed him…” He repeats.

“A-Yuan?”

His golden eyes snap to hers. “My master… My master wanted to hurt you.” She glances to the body on the floor. He’s clearly a Lan, but the special cloud design on the headband makes him an Elder. “I- I followed him. I heard you cry out for me- so I came in and- and…” He trails off, his eyes dull and his form shaking. “I killed him.” He repeats.

“A-Yuan.” Shen Yue advances and grabs his robes to keep him from retreating, knocking them askew. He stares at her, unseeing. “You’re going into shock.” A-Yuan blinks. 

She feels wetness at her hip and looks down to find A-Yuan’s hand bleeding. He’s been gripping his sword so hard the hilt cut into his palm. She carefully pries the sword from his hands, and then her front door slams open.

She swings around towards the noise like a startled deer. In the doorway stands another Lan Elder, this one a woman. She takes one step into the house and freezes, seeing the situation. A random woman, half naked, covered in blood, and holding a sword. The Lan Sect Heir. A dead Elder. Misinterpreting the situation.

“You witch!” She cries, pointing at Shen Yue. “Step away from our Sect Heir!”

Shen Yue stumbles back, dropping the sword and tries to correct the woman but it's too late. 

“Detain her!” The woman yells to the disciples behind her as she goes to A-Yuan, cooing at him like a child and leading his blank faced form from the house. She passes A-Yuan to another disciple at the door and storms back into the house, throwing her outer robe over Shen Yue’s naked form and curling her lip distastefully. “You’ll get what you deserve, witch.”

-----

Shen Yue is shoved onto a hard, cold floor after hours of flying. A-Yuan is carefully seated a safe distance from her, still in shock and surrounded by guards.

A gathering of Elders sits at the front of the room and the woman who called her a witch stands at Shen Yue’s side as her captor. 

“Speak, Elder Wenling.” One of the gathered Elders says.

“This witch -” Elder Wenling points at Shen Yue. “used a spell to lure Sect Heir and Master Lan into a sexual encounter, as proved by her scandalous appearance.”

“I didn’t-” Shen Yue tries to interject.

“Silence!” A woman from the gathered Elders says. “You will get your chance to confess. Continue, Elder Wenling.”

“But the encounter was all just a plot. She killed Master Lan during the encounter and would have taken out the Sect Heir next if it wasn’t for me seeing Master Lan and Sect Heir leave and following them.”

The Elder who spoke first and must be the leader in this situation nods. “State your name, woman.”

“Shen Yue.” She says, and steels herself. They think that she killed Master Lan. As long as they don’t know the truth, then A-Yuan can live like normal. She glances at A-Yuan and startles when bright golden eyes stare back. A-Yuan opens his mouth to speak but Shen Yue is faster. Her fingers twitch and the Lan Silencing Spell is cast. Shen Yue’s core is stronger than A-Yuan’s. A-Yuan struggles, but the spell does not break. 

“State your case.” The Elder says.

“I killed him.” She says. The Elders gasp. A-Yuan struggles more. “It’s as you say. I’m a witch and needed the blood of virile men.” I’m sorry, A-Yuan , she mouths, not looking away from him.

The head Elder nods. “Shen Yue, you are convicted of practicing the demonic arts, muder, and attempted murder. As punishment, you shall be condemned to death.”

Suddenly, A-Yuan coughs up blood, yelling, “You can’t kill her!” Shen Yue startles. The Lan Silencing Spell should be foolproof. She goes to silence him again but pauses. A-Yuan looks resigned. She sighs in relief. She doesn’t care what he says now, as long as he stays safe, she’ll let him speak.

“Sect Heir!” And Elder exclaims while the guards around him look for injuries. “This woman tried to kill you! You know the punishment for muder, and not even a Sect Heir can change them.”

“She’s carrying my child!” He says, and She Yue’s blood freezes in her veins. “She was completing a ritual, and used me first, but later needed my Master. The child is an Heir of Lan, no matter it’s blood.” The Elders looked stunned. Shen Yue feels tears sliding down her face. 

The Elders turn to each other and talk in hushed whispers. 

A-Yuan lunges towards Shen Yue and rips off his headband, trying it between their wrists all before anyone can even react. A-Yuan’s golden eyes smolder defiantly. “And now we are married. My wife is carrying the next Heir to the Lan Clan. She has committed a wrong. She will take the Lan name and be written into the records as a nameless woman without a past. She will seclude herself to repent, and I will seclude myself for the wrong of marrying a criminal.”

“Your marriage is not legitimate!” An Elder yells.

“It is. Their hands are bound by a Lan headband with at least one Elder as witness. They have met all requirements of a Lan marriage.” A new voice says. A man with eyes just as golden as A-Yuan’s walks into the room. This can only be A-Yuan’s father. The Lan Sect Leader.

“Father…” A-Yuan whispers, bowing his head.

“Sect Heir.” Sect Leader Lan says. A-Yuan flinches. “You have committed a wrong, along with this woman, but you both carry the future of the Lan Clan.” Shen Yue cradles her bump, staring straight ahead and refusing to break. “I accept the terms of punishment the Sect Heir has placed forth.”

The Sect Leader turns and motions to the guards. “Take them away.” 

With an assault, a misunderstanding, and a few simple words, their fates were sealed.

Chapter Text

Lan Yue

Lan Yue’s death date is approaching; There’s just over half a month until the time comes. 

She’s been diligent. She reports anything and everything she can to the boys in hopes of helping, but nothing has been of any use. 

There was a servant that strayed too close to her cottage; They were relatively young and new, and just got lost.

Her breakfast tasted off one morning; The kitchens had simply used rice from a different region than usual.

She had been hearing strange noises from around her cottage in the middle of the night; A fox had found an old burrow in the cottage’s foundation and had been making renovations. 

She had reported every suspicious noise and person, had reported even the smallest changes in her life, and yet none had brought them any closer to stopping her death.

But for the past few days she had felt… off. The boys were due to visit soon, and she would tell them about this, but deep down she knew; This was it. The time matched. She would die in less than a month, and while they still didn’t know who was going to kill her, with dawning horror, she at least knew why.

When the servant arrives with her breakfast, she asks for a healer. 

The servant, a kind, older woman who has been her personal servant from day one but remains nameless, smiles. “It’s that time again?” The servant arranges her breakfast neatly on the tray, even going so far to brew Lan Yue’s tea. At her protest, the servant says, “No, dear. I can do this much. And besides, today is a day for celebration. So let me make you tea.” 

A day for celebration, but Lan Yue only feels dread and fear. 

The servant leaves, and an hour later, there’s another knock on her door. The servant enters first, retrieving her breakfast dishes with another kind smile and leaving as quick as she came. Then two more people enter her home; A young woman in her 30’s or 40’s that’s been her main healer for as long as she’s been here and an older woman nearly as tall as Lan Yue is with greying hair curling at her temples. 

“Good morning, Madam Lan.” Her main healer says, ever professional but also kind. “You requested a healer, correct? Could you tell me your symptoms or what’s ailing you? Oh, and don’t mind the woman with me, she’s just an assistant that’s helping me with my rounds today.”

Lan Yue shifts wearily, unsure if she wants her suspicions confirmed. “I… I think I may be pregnant.” She feels nauseous at the words. She wants to cry. This is what kills me. I died because I was with child, and my child died with me.

The healer, noticing her nausea but misinterpreting the source, says, “Was it the nausea that alerted you? Your nausea started pretty late with your other children, but all pregnancies are different. Could you lay down?”

Lan Yue stands from the table and tries to control her breathing. It wouldn’t help to be sick right now. She reclines on the bed and parts her robes, already knowing the procedure. 

“Sorry if my hands are cold.” The healer murmurs before prodding at her abdomen with both her fingers and her spiritual energy. The healer closes her eyes and focuses. Lan Yue feels the energy spreading through her abdomen in thin, probing, tendrils. 

Then the healer suddenly frowns. “Pass me the oil, please.” She directs her assistant. The older woman reaches into a leather bag and retrieves a bottle of oil. The healer rubs it over Lan Yue’s abdomen and Lan Yue feels more spiritual energy flow through her, this time feeling like a blanket instead of separate tendrils. 

“What’s wrong?” Lan Yue whispers, a creeping numbness crawling up her spine.

The healer's eyes flutter open, looking immensely sorrowful. She takes a steadying breath and says, “I have good news, and bad news.” She swallows. “Which… would you like to hear first?”

Lan Yue’s heart plummets to the depth of her guts before creeping up her throat. “What?” She intones hollowly.

The healer shakes her head. “I’ll start with the good news.” She smiles, genuine, but barely there. “Your speculations were correct. You’re pregnant, Madam Lan. About a month and a half along.”

Lan Yue almost doesn’t want to ask. She’s sure that she’s crying now. If being pregnant is the good news, then what’s the bad news?

“The bad news,” The healer continues quietly. “Is that you are pregnant with twins. There are two very distinct concentrations of energy.”

“W- why-” Lan Yue’s voice shakes. “Why is that bad news?”

“Madam Lan.” The healer says seriously. “In your last pregnancy, there was a prolonged labor, in which one of the twins didn’t survive the birth.”

“You don’t need to remind me.” Lan Yue chokes out, not meeting the healer’s eyes. 

“I’m not trying to remind you, but it is an important detail.” The healer consoles softly. “Because of the prolonged labor, there was damage to your reproductive system. At the time, I believed that you could heal without any lasting effects, but it seems that wasn’t the case.” The healer takes a cloth and starts wiping the oil off Lan Yue’s abdomen. Not meeting her eyes, she continues. “The damage has healed, but scars remain. I’m afraid that your womb will never be as strong as it once was. And as I’m sure you know, twins pose a very high risk by themselves, but with the weakness of your womb, there’s only about a 30% chance that all three of you will survive the birth.”

Lan Yue’s hands clench into fists. “... A C-section?”

The healer shakes her head. “Even if we did a C-section for the birth, there is a high chance the pregnancy wouldn’t make it far enough for that to be possible. You already have a history of qi imbalances during pregnancy, and with your womb so weak, it is likely your body will terminate the foreign qi of your children to try and correct the balance. There are also the normal concerns of miscarriages, along with a higher risk of blood clots and qi deviation.” The healer sighs. “To put it plainly, Madam Lan, as a healer, I can’t condone you continuing the pregnancy. There are too many risks, and while children are a blessing, your health is my top priority. My professional recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy as soon as possible. I would also recommend you get surgery to prevent any more pregnancies.” The healer stops to think for a moment. “Does your family have a history of twins? Are you or one of your parents a twin?”

Lan Yue feels like she has whiplash. What does this have to do with anything? Weren’t you just prattling on about how me and my children are going to die?  “I was adopted as a child.” Lan Yue admits, quiet and confused and overwhelmed. “I don’t know.”

The healer shakes her head. “It’s nothing really. It’s just that this is your second set of twins and twins run in families. Twins by themselves are rare, so I wondered if your bloodline could explain it.”

The healer sighs. “Madam Lan. In the end, this is your body and your children. Please speak to your husband within the week about a decision. Either terminate the pregnancy, or choose to keep it, and while I will do everything in my power to save all three of you, if there happens to be a life or death emergency, I will put your life first.” The healer packs up her things. “This early it will be up to fate, so your next checkup will be at the two month mark, in about two weeks.”

The healer leaves, but the assistant doesn’t immediately follow. Instead, she stands at the edge of the bed, a serene smile on her face, as if she were a benevolent god. 

“Don’t worry, dear.”

A hand is placed on her shoulder. A mother’s touch.

“I’ll save you.”

Chapter Text

Lan Yue

When Lan Yue hears a knock on her window three days later, she feels dread. She doesn’t know whether it's because she has to tell someone, because since that day she hasn’t spoken to anyone, not even her husband, or whether the dread stems from having to tell her son and the bright boy that she can tentatively admit she loves just as much as any of her children, even if two of them are more energy than physical form.

She had sent a note to the boys using the talisman A-Ying taught her, but she had said the news wasn’t urgent. She didn’t want the boys to worry, but she wanted them to know she had something to say.

The knock comes again and she shuffles over to unlock it, realizing her hands are shaking. She fists them in her robes and smiles as the bright boy clambers over the sill and refrains from face planting only because of her cautious, still shaking hands. 

The boy frowns and looks to her with knowing eyes before the expression washes from his face and a beaming smile replaces it. She stands stock still as the bright boy calls out to her son with a voice full of life and cheer, and if she hadn’t seen his expression as it was seconds before, she would never have been able to guess that the boy had been anything but joyful and carefree.

(In the back of her mind she wonders when in his past life he was forced to learn how to fake a smile. How to hide that anything was wrong. How to lull those who were watching and listening into a fake sense of calm and peace.)

Her son climbs in after the other boy with what she now can recognize as years of training and grooming at the hands of Could Recesses and all its thousands of rules. Her son is the moon where A-Ying is the sun. A-Ying is bright and loud and demands attention wherever he goes, because no one can not see the sun where it shines high in the sky. Her son, her A-Zhan, is the moon. The opposite of the sun in every way; Quiet and calm, showing its true self only when the awareness of the world is focused on other things, waxing and waning to a song only known to itself.

“Hey, Lan Zhan.” A-Ying prompts. “Could you go and make some tea?” Lan Yue looks at the cups sitting on a table across the room, and sure enough, she forgot to make tea. She opens her mouth to protest but pauses. A-Zhan’s golden eyes rove from her to A-Ying before he meets A-Ying’s eyes. A wordless exchange passes. A-Zhan doesn’t leave. A-Ying sighs before smiling, genuinely this time, because even his eyes are smiling now, and waves a hand. A-Zhan’s posture softens, and with a last look to his mother and friend, he leaves the room, the cups going with him.

A-Ying turns to her as soon as he’s gone from view, his footsteps mere whispers from the other side of the house. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly. “Did something happen? Do you want Lan Zhan here? Or do you want to tell Lan Zhan instead of me? He’ll tell me later, but you might be more comfortable telling your son instead of some random kid.”

Lan Yue extends a hand and a pleased smile graces her lips as A-Ying looks to the hand confusedly but doesn’t flinch away as he did when she first made the movement all those months ago. Her hand finds a home in brown locks, messy due to neglect where her own were wavy from the day she was born. 

She gently brushes her fingers though tangled hair and watches as A-Ying slowly slumps into her embrace like a contented cat. 

“I love you as much as I love any of my children, both those born and not.”

It’s a confession, both of love and of truth, and A-Ying freezes up in her arms. Swirling silver meets warm brown. 

“You… You’re gonna… have a baby?”

A-Ying says it with such a weight of uncertainty and fear that she knows he understands. The timing is too convenient. Her being pregnant could mean nothing else but her death. 

“I might-” She shudders and gives a watery smile. “Let’s wait for A-Zhan, okay?”

A-Ying stays locked up for a few more moments before melting back into her embrace. She slowly starts combing back through his hair, even managing to make a single braid before A-Zhan returns with a tray of tea and assorted cups. 

A-Zhan, being the good boy that he is, starts to serve the tea, but she stops him. “A-Zhan.” He pauses and looks up. “Leave the tea there.” He sets the cup and kettle down. “Come here.” She opens her arms, A-Ying making her laugh as he mimics the gesture from his perch in her lap. A-Zhan climbs onto the bed with all the grace a grown man in a child’s body can muster and climbs into her lap, A-Ying’s arms falling around him like he’s a precious stuffed toy. A-Zhan doesn’t seem to mind even though she knows he dislikes physical affection. 

She smiles. I’m glad my A-Zhan found a friend he can trust.

“I need to tell you something.” She says, cradling her son and her big sister’s precious light in her arms. Her treasured nephew and loving son. “I’m pregnant.” She actually manages to say the words this time, and she feels A-Ying’s arms tighten around A-Zhan’s frozen form. “It’s twins.” This time it’s her own arms that are offering comfort. “A-Zhan- ” She swallows back tears. “A-Zhan’s birth… was hard on me.”  I’m not lying. They don’t need to know the truth. I would never be able to convince A-Zhan that it wasn’t his fault. “I- ” A breath. “I might have both babies- or only be able to… able to have one… or- or none.” They don’t need to know that my murder could be stopped only for me to die anyway.  

She looks down to find A-Zhan still frozen, but A-Ying is staring back at her with wide eyes. “Can’t the healers help?” he asks, ever the one to look at all options, even if they’re impossible.

She shakes her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. “There’s nothing they can do.” She whispers. “They said they can try, but there’s no medicine in the world that can help me. It’s all up to fate.”

“...Siblings?” A-Zhan whispers, the first word he’s said since his world has effectively broken down around him. A-Zhan loves his brother unconditionally and with all his heart, and she knows he would love any other siblings just the same. In his last life she had died, and now he’s learned that she died with his unborn siblings still mere dots of energy within her. Now there's the possibility, but his siblings could still be taken away from him by something as unknown as fate. 

“You might-” She can’t give A-Zhan a guarantee only to break his heart. “You might get some siblings, yes.”

“You will.”

“A-Ying?” She looks at the boy, endless sorrow in her voice. “I’m sorry, but the healers said-”

“Aunty Yue.” He cuts her off. “Fuck what the Lan healers said.”

“A-Ying!” She chides, at war whether to be mad for the child giving her baseless hope or to cry for how precious this child is.

“No. Listen.” There's something in his voice, in his eyes, that keeps Lan Yue quiet. “You will have both your children and Lan Zhan will get his siblings.” There's an unquenchable fire in his eyes, a force of nature bent to a mortal’s will, a conviction in his voice, unbroken by whatever hell he experienced in his last life and forever unbreakable now that he’s getting a second chance.

“There’s a branch of the Wen clan living at the base of Dafan mountain that specializes in healing.” He says. “A daughter of the clan grew up to be a-” A pause. “A good friend of mine. She was the best healer of our generation and she was mostly self taught.” A-Ying takes a breath. “If we go there and find her parents, I have no doubt that they could save you and Lan Zhan’s siblings.”

“A-Ying…”

“Trust me.” He pleads. “If anyone can help you, it's them.”

“Mother.” A-Zhan looks at her with wide eyes.

Lan Yue sighs. “Not you too…”

“Trust Wei Ying.” A-Zhan says. “Please.” He adds quietly as he looks away.

She sighs again, this time with just the smallest spark of hope in her heart.

“Okay.” She says quietly, much to the excitement of the two boys.

She's about to send them off into the night with extra cloaks when a bell starts frantically tolling. 

All heads whip around towards the direction of the sound.

It’s coming from the bell tower in Cloud Recesses.

Both Lans in the room know exactly what it means for the time-keeping bell to be tolling like this.

“The Cloud Recesses is under attack.”

Chapter Text

Lan Yue

Lan Yue may not have been a Lan by blood, but she’s been confined here long enough to know exactly what that specific toll means.

“Stay here.” She tells the boys, because while they may be adults in mind, they are still but children in body, and as a mother, it’s her duty to protect them until they can protect themselves. 

She sweeps out of the main room and into a side one, grabbing a warded cloak gifted to her by her husband as she goes. She comes to a stop in front of a table pushed into the very corner of the room, and on it sits Wangji. She runs a hand over the strings longingly, but knows she won’t be able to use it to its full potential in her lifetime. Living with rogue cultivators meant not many had actually learned how to wield an instrument for anything but entertainment, much less for battle, and as such, as she grew older, her own proficiency with her instrument as a weapon had suffered. She’d used the instrument for maybe a dozen night hunts in her teenage years (not including her final exam with Big Sis, because that had been just guqin strings and not Wangji itself) before using it had become more of a danger than a help. And now the poor instrument had fallen to nothing more than a medium for plucking out tunes for her and her children’s entertainment.

She turns her gaze to the stand above Wangji and to Yangguang, her sword. She hesitantly reaches for the sword and cradles it between reverent hands. She hasn’t used her sword in years, and now her main worry is that the sword rejected her during its years of neglect. She takes a breath and sends the tiniest tendril of spiritual energy into the sword and almost collapses in relief when it happily thrums back to her, as if not even a day had passed since she last wielded it.

She comes back to the main room with her cloak secure and a sword at her hip and finds the boys nervously fidgeting on the bed, talking quietly to each other. The boys look up when they notice her presence and seem startled to find her ready for battle, or as ready as she can be with limited time and resources. 

“Stay here.” She repeats to her audience of two. “Ironically enough, this house is probably one of the safest places in Cloud Recesses with how strong the wards are. I’m going to go and take stock of the situation and make sure A-Huan is safe before visiting the Sect Leader.” She smiles, a wicked thing fueled by adrenaline and excitement, something she hasn’t felt in years. “We’ll be taking a nice long vacation with A-Ying’s healer friends if I have anything to say about it.” 

And with that, she sweeps out of the room and into the snowy night. She’s on a mission, and no matter who thought it was a good idea to storm Cloud Recesses in the middle of a snowy winter night, no one will be able to stop her. 

-----

Even without knowing the exact location, she arrives at the Jingshi quick enough by following the faint prints in the snow the boys had left earlier in the night. The snow had been a minor inconvenience as far as visibility went, but with her cloak, she felt as if she was still sitting in her home drinking warm tea by an open fire. 

She enters without so much as knocking and finds the place eerily quiet, the silence only broken by distant shouts and her son’s quiet breathing. She rushes over and shakes his shoulder, only a little bit concerned that it takes nearly a minute for him to be fully awake. The cold affects every child differently, after all.

He blinks startled brown eyes up at her and whispers, “...Mother? What-” He yawns and rubs at his eyes. “What’s going on?”

The shouts sound again, closer this time. She grabs a spare robe- probably A-Zhan’s since the white robe is a little small compared to A-Huan’s larger frame- and quickly tucks the still sleepy boy into the robe before cradling the boy close to her chest inside her cloak. She rushes from the Jingshi, thankfully in the opposite direction of the voices, and heads towards where she knows the Sect Leader’s quarters are. With her husband in seclusion, that’s where she’s most likely to find Qiren. 

-----

Her first guess ends up being incorrect. After finding the Sect Leader’s quarters empty and fighting off a few weak, bandit-looking cultivators, she had then made her way towards the main buildings of Cloud Recesses. No one paid her any mind, not when they were either enemies that were quickly cut down, or allies fighting for their own lives and not needing the distraction of paying attention to a random woman they don’t even recognize.

She finally finds Qiren barking out orders among the chaos and leading the defense from in front of the Library Pavilion. No one stops her as she beelines towards Qiren, even if she lacks a Lan ribbon. It’s not uncommon for ribbons to be lost or damaged in battle, and her cloak clearly identifies her as a high ranking member of the Lan Clan. 

Qiren doesn’t take note of her until she’s standing right in front of him, obscuring his line of sight with her taller than average height. 

She doesn’t give the startled man any time to speak as she unbundles A-Huan from her robes and hands him over. She may not trust the Lan Sect, but she knows that Qiren will protect his nephew with his life. 

“Protect him.” She orders before disappearing in the crowd frantically milling around her. Qiren shouts behind her, but she doesn’t look back before making her way to her husband's quarters, on the direct opposite side of Cloud Recesses to her own home. 

The shouts of her allies fade as she gets closer to the outskirts of Cloud Recesses, by the back mountains where the enemy has failed to breach. From what she’s gathered the supposed bandits or thugs had come through the front gate, probably with stolen passage tokens to get past the wards. 

But what baffles her is that while the thugs’ leader was clearly smart enough to make use of stolen tokens, they were still stupid enough to storm a mountainous Sect- one of the strongest five, mind you- in the beginnings of what looks to be a nasty snow storm. The Lan Sect has the home advantage, on top of being used to the terrain and conditions, and she knows for a fact that most of the Lan Sect disciples are stronger than the common bandit, especially with all the advantages to their favor. 

She shakes her head. Now's not the time to get hung up on the mental duality the enemy is showing. 

When she reaches her husband’s quarters she rushes up the steps only to stop mere inches from the door with her hand poised to knock. 

Standing with just a simple door between her and her love, she realizes she hasn’t been able to just be with her husband in nearly a decade. Sure, they’ve met for stilted and quiet conversations over tea, and they’ve had more… intimate moments, but those couldn’t truly be enjoyed with the knowledge that come morning, her husband would be gone and another interaction like that wouldn’t happen for another year or more.

Even during tea and quiet meals and nights curled in each other's arms, she realizes she missed her husband- her A-Yuan.

“Who… Who’s there…?” A-Yuan’s voice sounds muffled through the door, but the disbelief and hope in his voice can be heard as clear as glass. She smiles, even though it's a little sad. A-Yuan hasn’t forgotten her spiritual signature even after all their time apart. 

The door quietly slides open and a familiar face greets her, shock carved into his features. 

“Hello, A-Yuan.” She says quietly.

He blinks at her for a few seconds before his shock fades into concern. “What are you doing here?” He says, well hidden panic- but not hidden well enough- in his voice. “Qiren said we were under attack-”

Annoyance surges through her (Huh, must be the hormones kicking in) and she storms inside, A-Yuan stumbling back a few steps as she slams the door behind her.

“A-Yue-”

She steamrolls over him. “Yes, we are being attacked. No, I’m not some weak maiden that can’t fight my way across a battlefield to make a request to my Sect Leader. And being pregnant doesn’t change that.”

A-Yuan blanches. “Pregnant-!”

“The healers here can’t deal with it. I took too much damage from A-Zhan’s birth. If I stay, me and the twins will likely die.”

“Die-! Twins! A-Yue, slow down-” he raises his hands placatingly, but she ignores him. There’s no time.

“A healer branch of the Wen clan near Dafan Mountain was recommended to me. I’ll go there with A-Zhan and A-Ying. A-Huan will stay. The heir can’t leave and will be protected here.”

A-Yuan opens and closes his mouth like a gaping fish before whispering tentatively, “...A-Ying? Did you…” He looks lost in thought. “Did we... have another…?” He starts counting down on his fingers, his eyes growing wide as his panicked brain starts jumping to random- and probably incorrect- conclusions.

“A-Yue-!”

As hilarious as his expression is, she doesn’t fancy leading her husband to an early grave via heart attack.

“Nephew.”

A-Yuan pauses. “...Huh?”

“A-Ying is my nephew.” She repeats. “Big Sis’ child.”

“Oh.” He quiets and seems to finally be calm enough to fully process Lan Yue’s earlier words. “You need to travel to a special healer clan?” He asks. “But… why come to me and not Qiren? Qiren would be the one with the authority to let you go.” He looks puzzled.

She shakes her head fondly. “Because Qiren would never let me go. And Qiren has never been my Sect Leader.”

A-Yuan tears up at the last statement before wiping at his face and steeling his expression. He retreats into another room and comes back less than five minutes later with a sealed letter with the official Lan Sect Leader wax seal.

“A-Yuan…” She whispers, not quite sure what to say.

He shakes his head, bundling her tighter in her cloak and leading her towards the door. “Go. If this will save you and the children then go. I’ll deal with whatever repercussions come from this, and file a formal investigation for your freedom if need be.”

“A-Yuan-!” She throws herself at him, hugging him tight as tears prick at her eyes. 

“It might not do much.” He quietly admits as he runs his hands through her hair. “But it’ll at least buy you some time while they compile the evidence from years back. Now, go!”

“I love you.” She cries.

He smiles. “I love you, too. Go.” He repeats.

With a last fleeting kiss and a longing look back, she snatches the letter and makes her way back out into the night.

-----

She takes a few seconds to wipe away the last of her tears before she storms back into her cottage. The boys startle from where they’re sitting nervously on the bed.

“There’s no time.” She says. Someone will probably check on her cottage soon, and they need to make it to the stables before the bandits start retreating back down the mountain.

The boys adapt to the situation frighteningly well (almost too well, poor things) and within the minute she has two carefully wrapped and supported boys tied securely in her cloak, leaving her sword arm free should they encounter any bandits.

They make it to the stables without encountering any bandits, though they have some close calls. She looks from stall to stall in the stables until she finds a horse that should work for the journey. It’s an older mare, white with splotches of grey. It’s old enough to be experienced on long journeys, though not quite so old that it would tire quickly. 

She carefully sets the boys down and grabs the saddle and reins hanging next to the mare’s stall, quickly fitting both comfortably on the animal who remains calm despite her frantic movements. She coaxes the mare out of the stall and grabs two nearby saddle bags, fixing them to the saddle. Then she grabs the boys and heaves all three of them up onto the horse, and while the mare shifts a little with the new weight, she stays calm and docile. 

Lan Yue walks the mare out of the stable, taking one last look back at Cloud Recesses before she and the boys gallop down the mountain and off into the night. She doesn’t know exactly where she’s going, but ‘anywhere but here’ would be good enough for now.

Chapter Text

Lan Yue

Lan Yue’s breath fogs in front of her. The mare under her huffs and shifts as it walks and Lan Yue reaches a hand down to pet it soothingly.

“Just a little longer…” She placates, even though she knows the poor mare can’t understand her.

It’s been a few hours since they left Cloud Recesses, the time now approaching morning as indicated by the grey light of pre-dawn.

The only problem they had encountered was passing through the wards. Lan Yue wasn’t given a passage token because she was effectively a prisoner, and the boys were too young to be given one. But in the end, it didn't matter, because the seal on the letter had acted as a token and let them pass through the wards undetected. 

Another thing Lan Yue had discovered is that A-Ying was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, while her son would wake every half hour or so to snuggle closer to her and A-Ying before falling back asleep almost instantly. 

It… it made her a little sad, actually. Knowing that her son was a light sleeper should be something she learned about him within the first few weeks of his life, but because both A-Huan and A-Zhan were taken away from her mere days after their births, she just never had the time to learn these things.

She must be a pretty pathetic mother to not know her own child’s sleeping habits, right? She knew her children’s birthdays, but only because she had been the one to birth them. She knew that A-Zhan was quiet and that A-Huan was adorably polite, but only because they had meetings with her once a month. 

But that was pretty much it. What kind of mother was she, not knowing her children’s favorite colors? A-Zhan had once quietly told her that he liked the color red, but that wasn’t really her A-Zhan, was it? That was her boy all grown up, a man that was only her son in name because she had died before he even turned six years old. Or what of her children’s favorite toys? All children had one, but beyond knowing that A-Huan had a wooden practice flute a few years ago that he favored, she really had no clue as to what hobbies her boys were developing or what they did in their free time. 

At this point, she knew more about A-Ying than her sons, if only because A-Ying talked a mile a minute and shared anything and everything that came to mind. A-Ying was no stranger's son, but what did it say about her as a mother that she knew more about a friend’s son than her own children?

She was jolted out of her thoughts when the mare abruptly stopped, digging it’s hooves into the dirt and snow and refusing to move no matter how much she coaxed and cooed at it. She sighed, taking this as a sign that they should stop for a while. 

She glanced to the horizon just as the sun rose, the boys’ eyes fluttering open at five o’clock on the dot. She just barely restrained a snort. You could take the Lans out of Cloud Recesses, but couldn't take the Cloud Recesses out of the Lans. 

“It’s time for a break, boys.” She whispers, knowing that they were still a little sleepy having just woken up.

She wraps her arms around the boys and carefully slides from the saddle, thankful that with her height and the mare's stockier build, the dismount was barely a foot and a half. She was definitely feeling the effects of her pregnancy now, with the increased fatigue definitely not helped by her staying up all night, with the aches that were normal for riding in a saddle for hours combined with the pains that were definitely from her body slowly changing. 

With one last look to make sure both the boys are awake enough to at least be able to yell if something is amiss, she trudges off to explore and establish a perimeter. 

When they first left Cloud Recesses they had been traveling down a mountain and then through plains and forests. As the hours passed and they got closer to where she vaguely recalled Dafan Mountain being, the forests had become more rocky, and she had to be careful to only traverse packed down trails unless she wanted her horse to suffer a twisted ankle or broken leg. The snow had also gradually lessened, with only about an inch of snow in the current region where Cloud Recesses had about half a foot.

She could have bypassed the problem of terrain and weather entirely if she chose to ride on the main roads, but she didn’t want anyone to take note of her and report it back to any Lan cultivators who came looking. So deer trails and forgotten hunting paths it was.

But back to surveying her immediate surroundings. The snow wasn’t deep at all, only an inch or maybe even less. They were in a forest clearing, and about 50 feet to the north was a cliff face running as far as the eye could see in both directions. There was even a shallow cave, about 20 feet deep and maybe ten feet tall.

Dafan was almost exactly southwest of Gusu, and if the terrain change was any indication they were maybe two days away from Dafan Wen territory, another half day away from their village at the base of Dafan Mountain.

She takes another few minutes to look around before circling back to the boys. She ended up finding a half frozen stream about 30 feet from the cave, hidden by a bunch of good sized boulders. 

When she gets back to the boys she stops at the edge of the clearing and has the sudden urge to paint, though she knows that her husband has always been the more talented painter of both of them. 

The boys had somehow managed to unbuckle the mare’s saddle and she had shucked it off, leaving her in only a bridle. The mare was half-standing half-laying in a snow bank by a tree. A-Zhan had found a brush and was diligently working through the mare’s mane, smoothing out any knots and braiding it out of the way as he went. A-Ying leaned against the mare’s side eating some dried fruit and looking like a gremlin with his hair in a bird’s nest and his robes ruffled and wrinkled like they’d been worn for a week and not just a day. He was passing off some of the fruit to A-Zhan every once in a while, who then would offer some to the horse, who turned out to be picky and only ate the dried apples, leaving the other assorted fruits be with a huff.

The boys’ conversation drifted over to Lan Yue from her spot hidden at the edge of the clearing. 

“Storm.” A-Zhan says.

“Storm?” A-Ying responds, making a face. “But that’s so boring !”

“She is grey and white, with the colors sometimes mixing. A storm. It is a fitting name.”

“If we named things after what they looked like then my name would be ‘handsome’ and your name would be ‘beauty’!” A-Ying crows, laughing.

Lan Yue watches amusedly as A-Zhan’s ears flush bright red, though his face stays just as calm as usual. “ Wei Ying. ” He says, sending the other boy a look. Okay, so maybe not so calm.

“Fine, fine, pick another one then.”

A-Zhan sits quietly and continues brushing and braiding. “Snow.”

A-Ying sighs. “It’s a white and grey horse, Lan Zhan. You can’t give it a name that fits an all white horse!”

A-Zhan looks A-Ying dead in the eye and says “Whatever.”

Lan Yue startles at how rude A-Zhan is being before A-Ying bursts out laughing. She glances between the two before sighing and giving up on trying to understand the reason A-Ying’s laughing. Clearly it must be some inside joke.

(A/n- ‘whatever’ in Chinese is ‘suibian’. Wei Ying’s sword in his last life was named ‘suibian’ or literally ‘whatever’.)

A-Ying perks up. “How about we let the horse choose a name. In fact, she’s already chosen one!”

A-Zhan levels a look at A-Ying, then the horse, then looks back to A-Ying and says, deadpan, “I didn’t know you could speak horse.”

A-Ying bursts out laughing, and even Lan Yue has to shove a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

“Of course I don’t speak horse!” A-Ying says. “And who knew getting a second life could give you a sense of humor, but I meant that she was only eating the apples out of all the fruit we offered her.” A-Ying jumps to his feet and points a magnanimous finger at the horse, who eyes him curiously. “I dub thee, Lil’ Apple!”

A-Zhan huffs and shakes his head, brushing a hand across the newly named Lil’ Apple’s fully braided mane.

Lan Yue finds herself mirroring her son, shaking her own head with a fond smile. 

They may be traveling for a few more days yet, but at least the trip won’t be boring with A-Ying tagging along.

Chapter Text

Lan Yue

“Who’re you?” A girl’s voice asks.

Lan Yue looks up from where she’s been watering Lil’ Apple. They’ve been traveling most of the day, so Lan Yue decided to give Lil’ Apple a break and the boys a chance to run around for a bit and burn off some of their limitless energy.

A young girl, no older than ten, stands on the other side of the stream, brandishing a knife as long as her forearm. Her stance is confident and firm. She definitely knows how to use that knife. 

Lan Yue cocks her head to the side, making sure to keep her movements fluid and calm. “My name is Lan Yue.” Laughter can be heard from behind her in a nearby clearing. “I have two children with me. My five year old son and his friend.”

She takes another look at the girl, trying to figure out how much of her situation she should tell. The girl’s wearing plain brown robes with red flames stitched into the sleeves. The flames look like they could belong to the main branch of the Wens, but she knows for a fact that those pompous people wouldn’t be caught dead in such plain robes. She could be…

“I have a… condition… that my Clan’s healers can’t treat.” Lan Yue finally says. The girl doesn’t react. “A friend recommended to me that I find the Dafan Wens, and told me that they are the best healers of our time. My Sect Leader has given me permission to make the trip.” She carefully reaches into her robes and pulls out the letter stamped with the official Sect Leader’s seal.

She slowly reaches across the stream and hands the girl the letter. The girl takes it with cautious hands and carefully inspects the seal, but doesn't break it, still brandishing the knife towards Lan Yue. The girl makes a few glances between the letter and Lan Yue before her stance softens and she stores her knife away in leather sheath at her hip. Her face stays blank, icy even, though her eyes soften.  Just like A-Zhan , Lan Yue muses.

“My name’s Wen Qing, granddaughter to the matriarch of the Dafan Wen.” She points behind her. “Our village is about half a mile that way. I can lead the way.”

Lan Yue nods. “Boys!” She yells behind her. “Time to go!”

She only has to wait a few seconds before the boys come tumbling out of the underbrush- Well, before A-Ying comes tumbling, pulling an infinitely graceful and utterly unfazed A-Zhan behind him. 

A-Ying opens his mouth but abruptly stops once he spots the girl. He looks between Lan Yue and Wen Qing before approaching Lan Yue with slow steps, never once taking his eyes off the girl. 

A-Ying furrows his brow and opens his mouth, hesitating before whispering, “Wen Qing?” Lan Yue can’t quite pinpoint what tone he uses. He sounds hopeful, but almost as if he hopes he’s wrong, instead of hoping he’s right. She slowly nods.

A-Ying’s expression breaks a little before he plasters a smile on his face. “My name’s Wei Ying!” A-Ying shouts across the stream.

Wen Qing winces a little at the volume, loud even with the stream burbling in the background. “Wen Qing.” She says. “I’m going to lead you guys back to my village so your friend’s mom can get help.”

A-Ying nods before brightening even further. “Oh! And this is Lan Zhan.” A-Ying drags A-Zhan out from behind himself with the pride of a child showing off a cool new toy. 

A-Zhan, like he always does, just goes along with A-Ying's whims. 

“Nice to meet you.” Wen Qing says after a moment.

A-Zhan just nods with an ‘mn’ and that’s that. 

-----

When A-Ying had told her of the medical prowess of the Dafan Wens, Lan Yue had expected them to live in some fancy compound or a repurposed temple. Even Wen Qing had said that she lived in a ‘village’, but Lan Yue definitely wasn’t expecting the smattering of wooden houses and huts that greeted her. The boys look around excitedly, apparently not sharing Lan Yue’s disbelief.

“You’re a clan of healers?” Lan Yue asks, trying to make her question sound innocently curious. 

Wen Qing shakes her head as she leads Lil’ Apple over to a trough of water and a bucket of hay. She ties the horse to a post and lets Lan Yue and the boys dismount before she answers.

“Have you ever heard about the different kinds of doctors?” Wen Qing asks back.

Lan Yue shakes her head, the boys trailing a few feet behind her.

Wen Qing nods, like she expected the answer, and starts leading them further into the village. “You said that your clan had healers. A healer is a doctor that uses only natural remedies and relies very little on internal interference. Like, they only use herbs and minerals that can be naturally found, and then supplement those remedies with spiritual energy, either infusing it into the remedy, or directly channeling it into the patient. Internal interference means stuff like surgery. They don’t like to directly interfere with the body, so they do everything with spiritual energy and natural remedies without breaking the skin.”

Wen Qing gestures around herself. “My clan is what you would call physicians. We combine the practices of healers and normal doctors. Doctors are non-cultivators who only rely on surgery and stuff. They might use herbs and things, but only for things that can’t be solved through blood letting or cutting you open, like nausea, or a headache. There's also something called an herbalist. Herbalists are non-cultivators that only use natural remedies. Pretty much a healer but without spiritual energy.”

She shakes her head and leads them towards one of the biggest houses in the village. “Anyway, our clan are physicians. We use natural remedies, spiritual energy, and internal interference. Instead of using spiritual energy as a cure, like healers do, we use it to supplement both natural remedies and internal interference, making them more successful and effective.”

Lan Yue nods along, and finds the boys listening curiously at her side. “I didn’t know there were so many different kinds of these things.” She murmurs.

Wen Qing nods. “I’m not surprised. Most people, even different doctors, don’t know all these different types and sub-types. There could be hundreds of types that we haven’t even classified yet. All it takes is a little tweak to a known technique and you have a new type of medicine.” 

Wen Qing hums as she opens the door to the house and beckons them inside. “Take witch doctors for instance. They’re just like healers, except they use resentful energy instead of spiritual energy. Or there was a clan a few hundred years ago that healed every injury and ailment with water from a certain pool. It was found out that the water was kind of like an amped up version of the Lan Sect’s Cold Springs in that it had healing properties. But instead of healing you gradually through contact, the water had to be ingested, and it healed any wound in a few hours.” She shakes her head. “Sadly, the pool dried up over time and the clan died out, refusing to switch medical practices now that their only source of healing was gone.”

“Wow.” Lan Yue breathes, not really knowing what to say.

Wen Qing offers a small smile. “It’s a lot, I know. I don’t expect you to memorize anything, I just thought you should know.”

Lan Yue smiles back. “That’s awfully nice of you. And it sounds very interesting. I might read more about it when I get back home.”

Wen Qing nods and calls into the house. “Mooooom! Daaaaad! I have a patient for you!”

A man and a woman round the corner, and Lan Yue is momentarily taken aback. The woman is at least a head taller than Lan Yue and skinny as a twig, and Lan Yue isn’t short by any means.  The man looks to barely reach Lan Yue’s shoulders and is a little portly in the middle. What an odd pair , she thinks.

“A patient?” The woman murmurs.

“Come, come!” The man says. 

Lan Yue finds herself ushered into a back room no sooner than she could blink, the boys getting dragged along with her.

Wen Qing, who watches from the doorway with crossed arms, points to the woman and then the man, saying, “That’s my mom, Wen Huifang. And that’s my dad, Wen Da. He married in.” 

Wen Qing snorts as Wen Huifang and Wen Da squeak and quickly bow. “Where’s our manners?!” Wen Da sounds mortified.

Lan Yue feels herself relaxing at the quirky behavior. “It’s fine.” She says. “I used to be a rogue cultivator, so I’ve had way worse.”

Wen Da looks at her with wide, mousy eyes. “Really? It’s really okay?”

Lan Yue nods. “Yes, it’s really okay.” She affirms. “Now… I believe I need your help.” 

Wen Qing advances and hands her parents the Sect Leader’s letter, letting them break the seal and read through the contents.

Wen Da and Wen Huifang straighten, steel in their eyes. “We’ll do whatever we can.” They declare in unison.

Chapter Text

Qingheng-jun

Qingheng-jun didn’t bother going back to sleep after his wife left. He simply at down at the low table in the middle of his home and waited. It was only a matter of time before they noticed his wife’s absence from her prison. Qiren may not be a strong general or a masterful tactician, but he wasn’t a total idiot when it came to battle either.

As soon as the attackers were dead, subdued, or had retreated, he had no doubt that Qiren would send disciples to do checks of Cloud Recesses: The kitchens (any food stolen or destroyed? Are the cooks okay?), the stables (Any horses missing, hurt, or dead? Supplies or food gone?), the women’s quarters (Is everyone okay? How about the children?), the infirmary (Any supplies gone or destroyed? Are the healers and patients unharmed?), and other miscellaneous things (Losses? Injuries? Any fires or damaged structures? Enemy losses and injuries? Identity of the enemy? etc…). Those checks would also no doubt include Cloud Recesses current prisoners: The Sect Leader and his wife. 

So it came as no surprise (he even had tea heated and ready to serve) when an hour before dawn, Qiren came knocking at his door. 

“Come in!” Qingheng-jun called.

The door slid open showing Qiren. He stepped inside and shut the door behind himself. Qingheng-jun eyes the silencing arrays etched into the walls. 

“You have news.” Not a question, because of course Qingheng-jun already knew what his brother wanted to say. He busied himself with pouring two cups of tea while he waited for his brother to respond. 

“The witch is gone.” Qiren finally says.

Qingheng-jun’s lip curls. “Lan Zhengsheng-!”

“Qiren.” His brother interrupts, breaking a rule and showing absolutely no remorse. “I’d rather my birth name not be uttered by criminals.” Qiren takes a seat at the table.

Qingheng-jun sighs, setting his tea down. There’s a better chance of him shattering the cup than of him taking a sip. Qiren hasn’t even acknowledged his own cup. “Qiren, then.” He stares Qiren dead in the eye. “Speak of my wife with respect or don’t speak of her at all.” Qiren stays quiet, but it’s a concession in and of itself. “Now what is this about my wife being missing?”

“The-” Qiren cuts himself off with a scowl. “ Your wife ,” He spits. “Lan Zhan, and my ward, Wei Ying, are missing. The Elders have concluded that the- your wife used the distraction of the battle to escape and took the children as hostages. Lan Xichen is thankfully safe. He was delivered to me by a high ranking female disciple during the battle. He’s going to be staying in my personal quarters until we can figure out who attacked us and why.”

Qingheng-jun takes a moment to absorb all the information. “A-Huan was… delivered to you?” A-Yue said that he was safe, but she couldn’t have known that unless…

Qiren nods. “I didn’t recognize her. She was missing a ribbon- I suspect it was damaged during the battle- and she was wearing a warded cloak with the Lan crest. Obviously well made and powerful.” Qiren strokes his beard. “She must have been a senior disciple.” He muses.

Qingheng-jun blinks disbelievingly. It couldn’t have been that long since Qiren last saw A-Yue… She couldn’t have changed so much as to be unrecognizable, right? Qingheng-jun had just seen her last night for the first time in what might as well have been years and he could still recognize her.

“Long, wavy, brown hair?” Qingheng-jun queries. “Almost as tall as you, maybe up to eye level? Brown eyes? Like A-Huan’s?”

Qiren nods, pensive. “Yes, that was her. Do you know her?”

Qingheng-jun just stares at his brother in shock. He really didn’t recognize her… “Qiren… that was A-Yue.” Qiren meets his eyes, stare blank. “A-Yue? My wife? The… person you talked to was my wife.”

Qiren blanches, turns bright red, and then keeps turning red . Qingheng-jun starts worrying for his health once he reaches some bright shade of purple. “I talked to…” Qiren trails off with a scowl, his face thankfully staying steady and not purpling further.

“You really didn’t recognize her…” Qiren stays quiet, not meeting Qingheng-jun’s eyes. “When was the last time you saw her, Qiren? Please, be honest with me. There’s no way she changed so much that you couldn’t even recognize her.”

Qiren growls, his eyes blazing, and slams a clenched fist on the table, upending his untouched cup of tea. “ Saw her?! I haven’t even met the damn woman!” Qingheng-jun reels back as if he was slapped. 

“What do you mean?” He whispers.

“My core’s always been weaker than yours.” Qiren states coldly. “My core’s been weaker, my constitution’s been weaker, even my mind was weaker than yours, and I was the scholar while you were the brute!” Qiren takes a handkerchief from his sleeve and mops up just enough tea to keep it from running off of the table and into his lap. He leaves the soiled cloth sitting on the table. “I was never allowed to follow you when you dallied off with your group of hellions and did gods know what.”

“You went with us that one time…” Qingheng-jun argues weakly.

“Oh, yes, That one time !” Qiren spits. “ That one time was the only time I was allowed to go, and the only thing I got out of that was the hair missing off my face! Shaved off by that accursed woman!” He mumbles the next part under his breath, but just loud enough for Qingheng-jun to hear. “How that woman birthed such a bright, well-mannered child, I’ll never know.”

Qiren sighs, looking a little more calm. “The point is, I never had the chance to meet your wife, nor have I taken the chance to even with the children’s monthly visits. She’s the woman that turned my brother into a criminal. The first time I’ve ever even heard of you even having a lover was when I was told of your trial. I woke up that morning to a normal day, and then that night it’s announced my brother is a criminal, is married, has a child on the way , and, oh right, his wife is a murderer.” Qiren laughs. “It can’t get any worse than that can it?” He asks the question knowing the answer, because it does get worse. Qingheng-jun feels every word like daggers being stabbed into his chest. He clenches a hand around his long-gone-cold tea.

Qiren rants on. “‘ What would our Master think? ’ That’s the first thing I thought after hearing the news, how disappointed our Master would be. And then they tell me that our Master is dead. ‘Why?’ Because the witch you married, who cursed you , who you were having a child with , beheaded the man in cold blood !”

“Qiren-” Qingheng-jun warns.

“Years and years would go by, and I was just thankful that my nephews didn’t turn out to be some twisted, ugly, creatures after coming from a union like yours. The Elders said that you were out of her thrall by the time the trial came around, but as soon as it was announced there was another child on the way, I knew that you were too far gone.” Qiren leans forward, almost slouching across the table, spit flying. “How did she trick you, Brother? Was it resentful energy? Is she a demon, like they say? Or maybe a spirit? Tell me, are the children-”

Qingheng-jun flings the tea cup at the wall, shattering it. “Don’t you bring my children into this!” He hisses. Qiren shuts his mouth, wary. “I warned you of disrespecting my wife, then you go and call her a witch. I controlled myself, I knew you were angry, but then you go and question how human my children are!” He stands, staring down at his brother and throwing his arms wide. “Well, Qiren? You have my attention now! What do you find so wrong about my wife? This conversation should have happened years ago, so by the gods, we’re going to talk and you’re not going to leave until every question you have is answered.”

“....She’s a witch.” Qiren says quietly, eyeing the shattered cup.

“She’s just as much an orthodox cultivator as you or me.” Qingheng-jun is still angry, but he doesn’t yell. They don’t need to get into a screaming match. “She’s never touched resentful energy, or associated with demonic beings, or drank human blood. She’s a normal cultivator.”

“But the elders-” 

“No.” Qingheng-jun intones. “It’s time you learn that the Lan Sect has fallen from glory. We stand for the truth, yet our most trusted Elder’s spout lies. We are the pinnacle of righteousness, and yet all it took was the words of a few Elder’s and an innocent woman was locked up for life.” He tucks his hands into his sleeves, if only to keep himself from smashing anything else. “You will not tell anyone, unless I approve of them, and definitely not the Elders, anything I tell you right now.” He orders. 

“But-”

“I am the Sect Leader Qiren, or have you forgotten? Effective as of now, I am taking back my power. I am confined to seclusion, so I will have you be the face of my leadership, do you understand?”

Qiren nods. “You said she-”

“Verbally, Qiren. I need you to tell me in your own words.”

Qiren pauses. “I understand, Brother.”

“Good.”

“You said…” Qiren starts again. “You said that… your wife was an innocent woman.”

Qingheng-jun slumps and sits back down with a sigh. He reaches for his cup only to come up empty. Oh, right. “A-Yue was assaulted by Master. Sexually. I witnessed the last few seconds before…” He trails off.

“She was defending herself.” Qiren mutters.

Qingheng-jun shakes his head. “It was me.” 

Qiren blinks, confused. “What was you?”

“A-Yue defended herself, yes, but the killing blow was dealt by me.” The confession may have been impossible years ago, back when the nightmares were fresh, when he would wake with a shout and phantom blood painting his hands, but now it was said with barely a twinge in his chest. He’s come to terms with his sins by now.

“Killing blow…” Qiren repeats uselessly. “It was…” His eyes widen. “It was you?! You-!”

“She protected me, Qiren." His brother opens his mouth but then shuts it, staying quiet. "She baited the Elders. Took attention away from me. Confessed to whatever they accused her of. She was ready to die with the secret.” He shakes his head. “The only thing that saved her was being pregnant with the Sect Heir. With the Elders so desperate for Lan Clan blood, they couldn’t risk killing her and then you never taking a wife or dying before you had the chance.”

“That means…” Qiren trails off, maybe hoping that if he never says anything it won’t be true.

Qingheng-jun nods. “A-Yue was never a murderer. I was. Even now, she’s not a criminal.”

“What do you mean?” Qingheng-jun opens his mouth but Qiren answers his own question. “Do you mean that she didn’t kidnap the children? The Elders lied again?” Qingheng-jun slowly nods. It seems Qiren is learning. “You sent her, didn’t you?” Yes, Qiren is learning quite quickly.

“A-Yue is pregnant. Twins again-”

“Again!” Qiren shouts, interrupting. “What do you mean again?”

Qingheng-jun’s brows furrow. “A-Yue was weakened after A-Zhan, and the second child…” He trails off. “Nobody told you?” He feels horrified. The Elders even hid this…

“I- I never knew…” Qiren says, eyes wide

“I’ll kill them.” Qingheng-jun mutters before clearing his throat and continuing. “In any case, A-Yue’s body was damaged after A-Zhan’s birth. The healers thought she would heal with only minimal scarring but it seems there are compilations now. I don’t know the exact details of her injuries, but I sent her to a clan that specializes in healing, and sent A-Zhan and A-Ying with her at her request. A-Yue told me that they would be able to treat her, because our own healers told her that it was just up to chance, and that there was nothing they could do.”

“You love her…” Qiren breathes.

Qingheng-jun shoots his brother a confused look. “What?”

“You love her.” Qiren repeats.

“I- Why wouldn’t I love my wife?” Qingheng-jun asks incredulously. “ That’s what you got out of this conversation, Qiren?”

“Sorry- I-” Qiren’s mouth clicks shut. “I just always thought of her as evil.” He says quietly. “Now you tell me that she’s an actual person just like us and… I realized you must genuinely love her.”

Qingheng-jun barks out a laugh. “Of course I love my wife, Qiren. I wouldn’t have married her or had children with her otherwise. I love her just as I love my children and my brother.” He backtracks. “Well, maybe not exactly like that, because that would be odd-”

Qiren clears his throat loudly and deliberately. Qingheng-jun’s mouth snaps shut. “What's the plan?” Qiren asks.

“The plan?” Qingheng-jun repeats uselessly.

Qiren raises a brow. “I don’t like being a Sect Leader, but if I need to be one for a little while longer, I will. Which is why you need to come up with a plan to officially take back power in the meantime.” Qiren nods. “You always have been better at strategy than me.” 

Qingheng-jun smiles when the sentence is said without malice. “Thank you, Brother.”

Qiren makes a confused sound. “For what?”

Qingheng-jun just shakes his head. “Regarding the plan, here’s what I was thinking…”

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren

When Lan Qiren woke to the sound of the bell tower’s frantic tolling around midnight yesterday night, he never expected to be a traitor to his Sect before breakfast was even served.

(But is he really a traitor, if he is just following his Sect Leader’s orders? Is he a traitor if his Sect is corrupt, and he plans to tear down the current governing system to make a new one without corruption? Qiren had meditated all night on these matters, and they still weren’t clear, but one thing was for sure; He would only be taking orders from his brother from now on.)

When Qiren had broken from his meditation at 5am to start his day, he expected something profound to have shifted in the world overnight. Instead, what he got was… nothing. It was normal. Just as mundane as all his mornings had been his entire life. 

He got up at 5am. Put on his robes. Combed out his hair. Tied on his ribbon.

(What wasn’t normal was that his nephew sat beside him and got ready for his day as well, but that didn’t quite feel as awkward or routine breaking as he thought it would. It was strange how normal it felt.)

He left for breakfast (with his nephew at his side). Then he made his way to his office (Or his brother’s office, he supposed), and carried out the first of his brother’s orders. 

He sent a note to the infirmary. He didn’t expect an immediate response, so he sorted through some of the everyday paperwork that needed done.

(A small mountainous clan wanted to buy five of the Lan Sect’s specially bred horses. A note came in from Caiyi that there is a group of corpses inhabiting the forest behind the town. Qiren looked over the note and found that spirits were most likely the culprits, not corpses, so he made the adequate changes to the note before giving it to a disciple to put with the rest of the night hunting requests. Trade requests for food and supplies needed to be renewed for another year or two.)

It had been nearly two hours before he heard a knock on his office door. “Come in!” He called.

Two women entered his office and stood at attention before his desk. One was a tall, spindly older woman, not unlike a bare, winter tree. The other was a shorter, younger woman, probably around Qiren’s own age. 

“I’m giving you an assignment.” He says, handing over a scroll. Inside are details for a long term trip to another clan. One that specializes in healing located near Dafan mountain. 

The younger woman cocks her head to the side after reading the scroll. “Could I inquire why we are to be sent on this assignment?”

Qiren nods. “After careful investigation, it has come to the Lan Sect’s attention that we are behind the times in terms of healing and medical practices. We have found a clan that specializes in healing, and has proven to be the leading force in modern medicine. Because the clan is located so far away, and because the assignment is for such a long period of time, we have decided to only send two of our healers. When your assignment is over, you are to return and teach a few select healers what you have learned. Those few will then become teachers who will make sure every healer in the Lan Sect knows whatever it is that you have learned.”

The woman nods, though it still looks like she has questions. Normally, this would make Qiren annoyed. He would want them to arrive here, accept their mission, and leave, but now it’s different. His brother has proven to him that following blindly won’t work anymore. Qiren is actually surprised and quite pleased that this woman is asking questions. It just means that she’s one person they won’t have to break years of habit out of, which doubly means less work for Qiren.

“Why us, Sect Leader Lan?” The same woman asks again. “Excuse my bluntness, but there are many healers that are both better than me and have years more experience.” She gestures to the side. “And my assistant here has only been an official healer for a few months.”

It’s a good question, and the answer is that these two are the personal healers of his brother’s wife, but he can’t tell them that. He clears his throat and instead says, “That is precisely the reason why you two are the perfect candidates to go. As you have said, neither of you are particularly high ranking or have been a healer for decades. Because we have been recently attacked, it would be a foolish decision to send our best healers to this clan, because then we would be vulnerable in a large-scale attack. Instead, two relatively skilled healers who are moderately high ranking are being sent. We cannot send anyone lower in rank, because they would be starting from nothing when they went to learn from the clan, and we cannot send someone higher ranked, because they are needed here in case of emergency.” Qiren strokes his beard. None of this is a lie. “Does that answer your question?”

The woman nods. “It does, Sect Leader. We will be on our way now.” The two women bow and promptly leave his office.

Qiren sighs as his office door slides shut. Step one of Take Back the Sect is complete. Only a million more steps to go. His brother better offer him a vacation after this. To a nice quiet place like… the top of a mountain. Or a cave. Or an uninhabited forest hundreds of miles away. Or the bottom of the ocean. He’s heard the ocean is actually quite nice, though he’s never seen it with his own eyes. Or maybe he can be put into a coma for a few hundred years. Any option would be a blessing after all this.

…

“Now… I believe I need your help.” 

Wen Qing advances and hands her parents the Sect Leader’s letter, letting them break the seal and read through the contents.

Wen Da and Wen Huifang straighten, steel in their eyes. “We’ll do whatever we can.” They declare in unison.

“Let’s start with whatever you know about your condition.” Wen Huifang states. “Symptoms, history, causes, anything you can remember that could be important to know about your current condition.”

Lan Yue bites her lip, glancing at the children. They know enough, but not everything. Wen Da catches her glance and nods assuredly. 

“Come along, children.” He says, his voice calm with a gentle smile on his face. “I have a son your age you can play with while we wait.”

A-Ying’s face screws up and A-Zhan stiffens. “No!” A-Ying states, crossing his arms.

“Now, now, children.” Wen Da tries to placate. “Mrs. Lan here is just going to get a quick checkup. You’ll be back with her in no time at all.” He grabs both children gently by the arms and tries to steer them out of the room. A-Ying pushes at the hand, baring his teeth. A-Zhan simply goes stiff as a board. If he’s going to leave the room, he’s going to have to be dragged.

Lan Yue sighs. They’re not getting anywhere like this. If there’s one thing she knows for certain about the boys, it’s that they’re both more stubborn than mules. A-Ying looks seconds away from biting Wen Da, and A-Zhan is staring at Wen Da’s arm with such focused precision, Lan Yue fears whether the boy has actually found a way to break bones through sheer force of will. 

“Boys.” She calls. Silver and gold meet her eyes. “Go with the man, please.” Silver meets gold, then the boys’ stares gravitate back towards her own. They aren’t ready to listen yet. “I’ll tell you everything that we say after it’s all been said. They’ll probably have to examine me, and lots of questions will be asked and answered. Once I’m done, I’ll meet you and tell you everything that happened, okay?”

The boys’ eyes meet. A-Zhan’s head dips. A-Ying nods. “Let’s go!” A-Ying cheerfully announces with a closed eye smile. Wen Da looks surprised at how easily the boys’ attitudes changed, and his grip on the boys’ arms slackened. A-Ying and A-Zhan, now free, breeze out of the room. Wen Da blinks and stares before realizing he should probably follow. The door slides shut behind him.

The silence of the room is broken by Wen Huifang’s laugh.

Lan Yue’s cheeks color. She didn’t say anything particularly funny did she? “What?” She asks a little defensively.

“Oh, nothing you did.” Wen Huifang assures, waving a hand. “It’s just, if those boys were older, I’d think they were your brothers with how protective of you they are.”

Lan Yue blinks. Now that she mentions it… Lan Yue smiles and shakes her head. Well, it can’t really be helped. She’s supposed to be murdered within the week, so it doesn’t come as a surprise that the boys would be more protective of her. 

“They’re good children.” Lan Yue decides to say.

Wen Huifang nods. “My daughter is just like them. Stubborn, strong, opinionated, protective.” She huffs. “But my son is a meek little thing. He has the mind for it, being protective and smart and whatnot, but his courage and body are weak. I worry what would happen if he had to go out into the world alone. Male cultivators would shun him for being weak, and the woman would walk all over him.” She sighs. “Since it sounds like you’ll be here awhile, I hope your sons can help him grow a spine.”

Lan Yue laughs. It sounds like A-Ying would be the perfect friend for the boy, and where A-Ying goes, A-Zhan will follow. “I’m sure they’re already on it. By the time we leave, your son will be as proud and strong as a king!”

Wen Huifang huffs and smiles. “Well then, shall we get started?”

-----

By the time Lan Yue leaves the make-shift clinic, it’s nearing evening. She was told that Wen Da had secured them a small house for lodgings and had already made dinner for the children, all four of them.

As she makes her way to where Wen Huifang said the house was, she goes over all the medicines she was given. Wen Huifang had assured her that while her situation was severe, it wasn’t impossible to keep track of or manage. She had been given a number of supplements ranging from the usual vitamins and minerals expecting mother’s needed, to pills for her blood pressure, nausea, and headaches. She had also been given a variety of teas, and recommended some more for any other symptoms she could experience.

Wen Huifang had estimated she was exactly two months along, or eight weeks. Because of her high chance of miscarriage, Wen Huifang had also scheduled her for something called a cer… sar… well, whatever the name was, Wen Huifang said she could have it administered at 10 weeks as a precaution to help prevent miscarriage, and recommended that Lan Yue get a C-section and not even consider a regular birth, since her body even at full strength had suffered complications. Otherwise, they would just play it by ear, and wait to see during her weekly checkups what was needed.

All in all, the day went well. She saw a doctor that assured her not all was lost, and that her children could have a decent chance at life. Even with the impending date of her murder approaching, and them still not having all the facts needed to prevent it, life was good. Yes, life was good.

Chapter Text

Lan Xichen

Lan Xichen officially has no idea what’s going on. When he fell asleep, he was in the Jingshi with A-Zhan and A-Ying. He had a strange dream that night. One of being held tightly by a woman. He imagined that the feeling of being held was what a mother’s touch felt like. Mother had held him before, hugged him even, but the touches were always fleeting, gone too soon to really enjoy. And then it would be another month before he got the chance to be embraced again.

Lan Xichen knew that Mother favored A-Zhan, always holding him just a little bit longer, just a little bit more snuggly, as if he would disappear if she let go too soon or looked away too fast. Lan Xichen wasn’t jealous though. A-Zhan was his precious baby brother. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he could be genuinely mad, or disappointed, or jealous of his brother. It was just the way the world worked. The sky was blue, the sun would always rise, and A-Zhan would always be nothing but loved by his brother.

But after that dream yesterday… instead of waking up at 5am with A-Zhan and A-Ying… he had woken up in an unfamiliar place, clearly some kind of sleeping quarters of even a small home. And even more strangely, Uncle was there, with A-Zhan and A-Ying completely missing from sight.

Uncle had continued on with his morning like nothing was wrong, so Lan Xichen kept his questions at bay. If there was something truly wrong, Uncle would make sure to pull him aside and tell him, especially if it had something to do with A-Zhan.

(And if A-Zhan was fine and there was something wrong with A-Ying instead, Uncle would tell him, right? They were close enough for that, right?)

By evening, Lan Xichen knew that something was… not wrong, because no one was panicking or making some other fuss, but… different. There was something different, and Lan Xichen was almost completely sure it was because A-Zhan and A-Ying were hidden, or maybe even entirely gone. He didn’t see them at breakfast, A-Ying wasn’t there to say ‘hi’ as they each went to their respective classes, A-Zhan didn’t do calligraphy or studying with him, and instead of being able to go back to the Jingshi for self study and to wind down as it got closer to curfew, he was led to the same building he woke up in, which he had identified as Uncle’s quarters, similar to A-Zhan’s and A-Ying’s Jingshi, or formerly, Lan Xichen’s Hanshi.

So Lan Xichen finally decided to ask. Both him and Uncle were sat down at the low table in the middle of the room, sipping on tea as they settled their dinner and waited for curfew. 

“Uncle?” Lan Xichen starts, not entirely sure how to ask the questions he wants without being rude. Uncle just hums, so he continues. “What…” He swallows, setting his tea down on the table. “Where are A-Zhan and A-Ying?”

Uncle blinks, and Lan Xichen startles. Uncle almost looks… surprised? Why would he be surprised? He… He asked a question any concerned sibling would ask, right? Why would that be odd?

“You noticed.” Uncle says, as if that was an impossibility.

Lan Xichen is talking before he can stop himself. “Why wouldn’t I notice?” He cringes. That was rude. It was out of line. He has an excuse and apology ready before he can even think, ready and waiting as a response to the scolding he knows is coming… but Uncle stays strangely silent. 

Just sitting, blinking, and thinking.

“...Uncle?” Lan Xichen eventually probes, when the silence stretches on.

Uncle blinks rapidly, his eyes clearing of whatever thoughts he was stuck in. “I’m sorry, Xichen.”

Lan Xichen knows he is staring, but what else is he supposed to do? Lan Xichen was the one who was out of line. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him , not Uncle.

“Pardon?” Lan Xichen replies dumbly, his training kicking in while his rational mind is still reeling over this uncharacteristic behavior from Uncle.

“I’m sorry, Xichen, I truly am.” Uncle repeats, his lips thinned.

“Why?” Lan Xichen says. There’s no protocol for this. He wasn’t trained for this. He’s to be Sect Leader. He was trained in politics and diplomacy since he was old enough to talk, but no one taught him how to deal with this.

“I treated you like a child, Xichen.” Uncle explains, but to Lan Xichen, it makes no sense.

“I am a child.” Lan Xichen is a child. It would make sense to treat him as such. Wouldn’t it be more odd to treat a child like an adult, or a child like an infant? What’s the problem with treating a child like a child? Or a man like a man? Or a cultivator like a cultivator? It doesn’t make any sense.

Uncle shakes his head, taking a moment to think. “I treated you like less. I know you are smart, but I thought you would just continue on and not notice. I know you love your brother, but I assumed you wouldn’t notice his absence, and if you did, you wouldn’t think to ask questions. You are nine years old, you are a child, but old enough to at least know if something is wrong.” Uncle bows his head. “Because of all this, I’m sorry Xichen.”

“I wanted to ask.” Lan Xichen confesses after a brief silence, looking down into his now-cold tea. 

Uncle tilts his head and blinks. “Then why didn’t you? I imagine you must have been worried.”

Lan Xichen feels almost shameful as he whispers, “Because I thought that if something was wrong with A-Zhan or A-Ying, you would tell me.” He can’t bring himself to look anywhere but at his own rippled reflection in his tea.

Uncle sighs, and Lan Xichen has to hold back a flinch at the sudden sound. It doesn’t sound like a reprimanding or disappointed sigh, but at this point, he doesn’t know if he can trust any of his usual information about Uncle. 

“And for that, I’m sorry Xichen.” Lan Xichen doesn’t look up. “I was your guardian, I raised you. It was natural for you to trust me, and I broke that trust by not doing what was expected of me. You stayed quiet because you trusted me to tell you if anything was wrong, and I broke that trust by assuming you didn’t know and then acting like nothing was amiss.”

“Can I be excused, Uncle?” Lan Xichen wants nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep, even if it’s barely past seven. Too much has changed in such a short time. His brother is gone, A-Ying is gone, and he still doesn’t know where they are. And Uncle has… changed. Or maybe the change happened a while ago, and Lan Xichen just never noticed. But… he just needs time to think. He wants to be alone.

“You may-”

Lan Xichen has slid the door to the guest room shut before the permission has even finished being uttered. He just needed a little bit of quiet. He just wanted to be alone.

…

Lan Wangji sits quietly and watches as Mother visibly collects herself, readying to speak about the more intricate details of her condition. Wei Ying, impatient as ever and with nothing to occupy his brilliant mind, squirms and fidgets next to him. Lan Wangji imagines that if Wei Ying had a flute he would be twirling it between his fingers.

It’s nearly night now. Mother has finally sat them down to talk about what was said at her examination with the Wen physician. 

Finally, Mother speaks. “A-Zhan.” She says. Lan Wangji blinks. She hadn’t addressed both of them. “A-Zhan, listen to me.” She repeats. Lan Wangji focuses his attention on Mother, clenching his hands in his lap. She continues. “Before I say anything, I need you to promise that you won’t blame yourself.” Lan Wangji feels his breath catch in his throat. “None of it is your fault, and it isn’t mine either. It isn’t the healers’ faults, or your father’s or the Clans’. It’s nobody’s fault, and I need you to promise me that you, most importantly, won’t blame yourself.” 

Lan Wangji stays silent, reeling. Why would he blame himself? What condition could Mother possibly have that it could somehow be traced back to him? If Mother’s complications are because of him, does that mean he’s in danger also?

“A-Zhan.” Mother says, a little more forceful than usual. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” He says, but he doesn’t really register that he’s actually said the words. 

Mother levels him with a look. “You don’t mean that, A-Zhan. Say all the words. Don’t just say whatever comes to mind first.”

Lan Wangji opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Is this normal? Does everyone have a hundred things to say, but nothing will come out? Does everyone feel the need to speak, to say anything, but the words die before they can be uttered?

A small hand grasps at his robes, a body sending comforting warmth up his side. Lan Wangji glances over at Wei Ying, but Wei Ying's full attention is on Mother, his brows furrowed in worry. He probably hasn’t even noticed that he’s moved closer to Lan Wangji.

“I promise, Mother.” He finally looks back at her. “I promise I won’t blame myself.”

Mother looks into his eyes, scans his face. She nods, takes a breath, lets it out. 

“A-Zhan.” Mother starts. “Up until the night you were born, you had a twin.” 

Lan Wangji stops breathing. His heart stops beating. He’s frozen, made of stone. 

The tale Mother tells them is a tragedy. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember the tale, because it all happened on the night he was born, but it still feels as if it didn’t happen to him, to his Mother. It’s not real , his mind whispers. 

The second part of the tale happened more recently. Mother is pregnant again. Mother is having twins ( again ). He knows this. It’s all things he’s heard before. Until it’s not. Mother could die. His siblings could die. This is new. He never knew this before. Is this how she died? He wonders. Were we wrong?

Mother has stopped speaking, but it's not like he could have listened anyway. He feels… underwater. Trapped behind a ward. Stuck alone in a cave, left to wonder about the story behind each and every echo: Are those the muffled voices of my saviors? The muted shuffles of my enemies moving ever closer? Or are they simply the sounds of my breaths being distorted and reflected back at me?

…

Lan Zhan has stopped moving. He’s still breathing, but he’s gone still, like a statue. Unnaturally still. Wei Wuxian looks away from Aunty Yue to study Lan Zhan. The hands clenched in his lap have relaxed, just laying there limply. His head is bowed forward, as if he was deep in thought, but his eyes are blank. 

“Hey, Aunty Yue.” Wei Wuxian says, not taking his eyes off Lan Zhan. “Could you stop for a second?”

Aunty Yue goes quiet. “A-Ying?” She questions.

Wei Wuxian waves a hand in front of Lan Zhan’s face, shakes his shoulders a little. He doesn’t react.

“A-Zhan?” Aunty Yue’s voice sounds tentative, worried. “Is he okay?” She questions Wei Wuxian when it’s clear Lan Zhan won’t respond.

“He’s fine.” I hope . “It’s happened before. Kind of.”

“What do you mean?” She asks.

Wei Wuxian finally looks at Aunty Yue. “You know that we lived a life before this, right?” She nods. “And that you died in that one?” She nods again. “Well, when we first got here, Lan Zhan… something happened to him, when he realized that he could save you. He kind of… his head got mixed up about what time it was, so he was like a mix of adult Lan Zhan and kid Lan Zhan. And when I finally brought him up to speed, broke him out of that mixed up mindset, he kind of… took a while to get back to normal. He was just like he is now.” Wei Wuxian pauses. “I think his brain just works a little different than other people’s. When he gets too overwhelmed, I think he just… shuts down for a bit, to help process stuff better.”

Aunty Yue looks… troubled. “But he’s going to be okay… right?”

Wei Wuxian feels like the scum of the earth when he has to choice but to shrug. “I don’t… I don’t know why it happens, exactly, or what’s going on while it happens. It’s only happened once before, so I don’t have much-”

Wei Wuxian freezes. Lan Zhan feels warm, tucked into his side. Too warm. Feverish. Wei Wuxian puts a hand to Lan Zhan’s forehead, just under his ribbon, but he feels normal. Wei Wuxian’s brows furrow. He moves his hand down, to the side of Lan Zhan’s throat, feeling his pulse beating strong and steady into his palm. Still normal. His hand moves lower. Lan Zhan’s chest feels hot. Not burning, maybe not even as feverish as he first thought, but hotter than normal. The seal , he thinks.

He carefully maneuvers Lan Zhan to lay flat on his back on the floor they were sitting on. He takes a look at Lan Zhan’s face; Still blank. He pushes Lan Zhan’s robes aside and studies the now visible seal. It’s pulsing in and out of visibility, almost like it has a heartbeat. It’s not eroding or breaking. Simply just there, pulsing ominously, but otherwise not doing anything. 

Did this happen before? He thinks back, but last time was so quick, so he doesn’t know if it happened, and he didn’t have the time to check.

“What is that?” Aunty Yue questions from over his shoulder, sounding horrified.

Oh. Aunty Yue doesn’t know about these yet. “When we came back, we had our adult cores, but children’s bodies and meridians.” Wei Wuxian goes to explain, but Aunty Yue is already shuddering.

“I can’t imagine how painful that was.” She says, peering at the seal again, this time in awe. “Who made this?” She questions. “It looks beautiful and…” Her brows furrow. “Complicated.”

Wei Wuxian smiles. “Me.”

Aunty Yue looks at him, waiting for the rest of the joke, but it never comes. Wei Wuxian’s grin grows. “You’re terrifying.” Aunty Yue whispers, studying the seal. “It’s… it’s like you took three completely different seals… and then- and then somehow altered them enough for them to not only each have a separate function, but to work together in tandem.” She inches closer. “I- I can’t even imagine doing this in a lifetime, much less in the short amount of years it must have took you to make this.”

Wei Wuxian grin grows wider. “Oh, it only took me a few weeks, maybe months. Time was kind of skewed for me, then.”

“You- you did this in months ?” She stutters out. “When you were out of your mind ?”

Wei Wuxian makes an affronted noise. “I wasn’t that far gone. It got worse later, but yeah. Took me months at most. And sure, maybe I was a little crazy.” He finally concedes.

Aunty Yue turns her wide eyes back to Lan Zhan. “What do we do with him?”

Wei Wuxian feels horrible when he just has to shrug. “Put him to bed. Wait it out overnight. Take him to see the Wens in the morning if he stays this way.”

“But you can’t tell them about-”

“I know.” Wei Wuxian interrupts. “I know basically why this happens, and what to do about it, I just don’t know enough .”

Aunty Yue now has tear tracks on her face. 

“It’s okay.” He assures her. “He’ll be okay.” It’s Lan Zhan. He won’t settle for anything less.

“I’m the adult here.” She protests, wiping at her tears. “ I’m supposed to be comforting you .”

“I know.” Wei Wuxian says, and comforts her anyway.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian

There was a knock on the door during breakfast. Aunty Yue set down her chopsticks and went to answer the door and Wei Wuxian took the chance to glance over at his sleeping(?) friend. 

Lan Zhan hadn’t woken up, or snapped out of his trance, or un-whatever-ed during the night. Wei Wuxian had closed Lan Zhan’s eyes after the first hour, so if you just happened to walk in, you might think he was sleeping, but Wei Wuxian knew for sure something was going on inside his head. 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t an expert of the mind or whatever, but he could identify this as Lan Zhan’s brain’s way of coping. Wei Wuxian wasn’t a stranger to coping, he just resorted to outside methods, like drinking or training or sparring, pretty much the opposite of Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian’s brain worked too fast for his own good, so he either had to muddle it with alcohol, or work his body so hard he had no choice but to focus on the present.

Lan Zhan was the opposite. Wei Wuxian knew Lan Zhan liked the Cold Springs, so he imagined that meditation would be one of his coping strategies. And as weird as it sounded, spacing out seemed to be another one. 

Where Wei Wuxian used outside stimuli to cope, Lan Zhan seemed to retreat inward, away from the outside world. Time travel probably didn’t do Lan Zhan any favors, and that seems to be the reason why his coping mechanisms are going so haywire now.

(And he was no expert, but he didn’t think people usually spaced out for nearly 12 hours at a time. But who knows? Maybe this is normal, and Wei Wuxian just hasn’t met anyone like this yet.)

Wei Wuxian looked over at Aunty Yue as the door creaked open. Mrs. Wen was standing on the other side. 

“Two more Lans arrived this morning. They have an official letter, and it seems like they were sent here to monitor your case and learn from us so they can help you or others in the future.”

Aunty Yue nods. “Could I meet with them- Ah- Wait, could you come in for a second?”

Mrs. Wen looks a little puzzled, but compiles, shutting the door after herself. “What do you need?”

Aunty Yue brings Mrs. Wen over to Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian quickly scarfs down the rest of his breakfast so he could sit with them.

Aunty Yue crouches down and rests a motherly hand on Lan Zhan’s forehead, sweeping stray hairs away from his face. “I told the boys about my condition yesterday.” Aunty Yue says. “A-Ying was a little shocked, which was understandable, but A-Zhan… he retreated into himself. He doesn’t react to the outside world.” Mrs. Wen’s brows furrow. She gingerly grabs Lan Zhan’s wrist. “A-Ying said it happened before, and that it was very brief, so we decided to wait to see if he would wake up on his own.” She shakes her head. “Since he wasn’t better by this morning, we were going to take him to see you straight after breakfast.”

Mrs. Wen drops Lan Zhan’s wrist and faces Wei Wuxian. “You said this happened before, correct?”

Wei Wuxian nods. “Just one time. And only for maybe ten or 20 minutes.”

“Were you there with him, or did you hear it from someone else?” She asks.

“I was there.”

“He looked exactly like this?”

“Yes- wait- no, we closed his eyes after an hour, this time. Both times he would just stare, and he wouldn’t react to anything.”

Mrs. Wen shakes her head, looking deeply troubled. “I’m sorry, but there’s not much we can do.” 

Aunty Yue makes a wounded sound.

Wei Wuxian fixes Mrs. Wen with a stern look. “Really? Absolutely nothing?”

Mrs. Wen sighs. “My husband is better with ailments of the mind, but I know enough to know that besides tea and healing songs, there’s nothing much you can do when the mind is hurt like this. If you are feeling depressed or stressed, you can drink tea daily to help. If the ailment causes unconsciousness or ‘spacing off’ then a healing song, preferably a Lan one, would be the best method of healing.” Mrs. Wen shakes her head again. “Even with all the medicine and cultivation in the world, the mind is still something that we don’t fully understand. It seems to be both fragile and strong, both flexible and stubborn. And all minds seem to be different, so even if we somehow were able to study the mind, what we find may not be universal.”

Aunty Yue brushes trembling fingers through Lan Zhan’s hair before standing. “Stay here, A-Ying. I’ll come back after meeting with the other Lans and play some songs, okay? Just stay here.” She quickly turns and leaves the house.

Mrs. Wen gives Wei Wuxian a subdued smile. “I’ll send A-Ning over with some tea blends for when Lan Zhan wakes up. He can keep you company until Mrs. Lan comes back.”

Wei Wuxian nods detachedly as she leaves as well. He hopes Lan Zhan wakes up soon.

…

Lan Yue isn’t sure who she expected when Wen Huifang told her that more Lans had arrived, but these two were about the last people she expected. 

The Lans had been set up in a house similar to Lan Yue’s, just on the other side of the village. They’re currently sipping tea, empty breakfast dishes set to the side.

“Healer Lan and… Assistant Lan?” Lan Yue winces at the probably impolite greeting, but she truthfully has no idea what else to call the odd pair. She doesn’t know their names and has only met the spindly one once.

The woman who has tended to Lan Yue for years perks up from her tea. She carefully sets the cup down and turns to bow. “Good morning, Madam Lan. Forgive us for disturbing you this early, but we thought it best to talk to you as soon as we arrived.”

The tall spindly woman nods her own greeting. “Good morning.” She smiles.

“Oh!” The younger woman interjects. “And please, just call me Lan Nuan.”

The spindly one nods. “And call me Lan Lifen.”

Lan Yue nods and offers a small bow. “Well, then good morning Lan Nuan, Lan Lifen.” She takes a seat at the table and Lan Nuan pours her a cup of tea. “I assume you came here for a reason, correct?”

Lan Nuan nods. “Sect Leader sent us here to study, mainly, but I also suppose he knew you were here and sent us to be… observers and helpers to your condition. So if it happens to you or someone else in the future we can be prepared.”

Lan Yue nods and sips her tea. That makes sense. Though she wonders why Qiren would offer her… a gift? Or do anything nice for her at all. There was no reason for Qiren to send Lans here, or these two specifically, but he did it anyway. Maybe he took a fall down Cloud Recesses thousand steps and the stick fell out of his-

“Would you mind if either I or Lan Lifen were able to oversee one of your checkups with the physician?” Lan Nuan asks, breaking Lan Yue out of her thoughts. “Actually, if one of us could be present for every one, that would be much appreciated.”

Lan Yue thinks for a moment, then nods. “I don’t see why not. You were sent here to learn, and I understand that my case isn't exactly normal. One of you could even come with me back to my lodgings and have a look at my routine. I’m taking a slew of teas and medicines daily that you could help me prepare.”

Lan Lifen smiles. “I’d be happy to, dear. It would be interesting to see the differences between the Wens’ practices and our own.”

A comfortable silence blankets the table as they finish the pot of tea. Lan Yue stares down at her mostly full cup and can’t help but worry. She knows her son’s life couldn’t have been perfect, that he’s too quiet sometimes, that he uses A-Ying as a barrier between him and the rest of the world, but for all the strength she knows he must have, she can’t help but see him as the fragile five year old he is when he’s unconscious with no knowing when he’ll wake.

And what’s worse, is that she’s his mother , and there’s nothing she can do.

-----

Lan Yue and Lan Lifen prepare lunch- or well, Lan Lifen brews no less than three different kinds of tea and prepares a cup filled with three different capsules, a green pill, and a brown pill while Lan Yue prepares a simple lunch for herself and the kids and silently worries over A-Zhan. 

“It’ll be okay dear.” 

Lan Yue startles, looking up from the rice. “I know.” She scrunches her brows. “I just- I just can’t help worrying. I’m his mother, and yet I just have to sit and wait.”

Lan Lifen nods, setting a cup of tea on the table. “I understand. I truly do.”

Lan Yue blinks. “You have children?”

Lan Lifen gives her a sad smile. “I did. Two girls. Twins.”

“Oh… I’m sorry-”

Lan Lifen waves a hand. “Not like that. They’re alive and well, as far as I know.” She looks wistfully into space. “They were… an accident. I was forced, and they were at first, an unwanted consequence.” She smiles. “But because of my former position in the clan, I couldn’t have married or had children even if I wanted to… so I struck a deal of sorts. After that first checkup, I knew I couldn’t get rid of them, knowing I wouldn’t be able to have more, so I abdicated my position temporarily until I gave birth. I wasn’t allowed to raise them, but I was allowed to carry them and observe from afar as long as it didn’t infringe on my duties when I took my position back. A decade after they were born and gone, my position… didn’t hold the same passion it once did, and I eventually stepped down and took up healing work. It was more fulfilling, and gave me more freedom with observing my children. They’re grown women now, one with a family and the other as a respected member of her clan.” Lan Lifen’s tone can only be described as proud as she speaks of her children and a little sad. 

“I can’t imagine what you had to go through, giving up your children like that.” And Lan Yue really can’t. She loves her children, and they’ll be her precious babies for as long as she lives. Maybe it’s because her children are still so young, but she can’t even imagine them leaving once they're grown, much less the second that they’re born.

Lan Yue finishes up the rice and sets it on the table, noticing a fourth cup of tea set with the three she was prescribed. “What’s that one?” She asks, pointing to the cup of light colored tea.

Lan Lifen looks where Lan Yue’s pointing. “Oh, just a lemon ginger blend with a little bit of honey. I found it helped me during my pregnancy and thought it would be a nice palate cleanser for the other bitter ones you have to drink.”

Lan Yue is thankful for the courtesy. Even from feet away, she can smell the earthy, bitter scents of the other assorted cups and was dreading drinking them.

She sits at the table and serves herself some rice while Lan Lifen wanders to another room, probably to return the bottles and tins for her medicines and teas back into their places.

Lan Yue hesitantly grabs the first cup of tea, one so dark it’s nearly black and smelling of dirt, and without further ado, downs the whole thing. She gags a little at the taste and quickly picks up the lemon ginger tea, only to pause with it just under her nose.

The bitterness in her mouth is forgotten as the scent of the lemon ginger tea assaults her nose.

It’s sweet. Too sweet. Sickly, like something rotten. This isn’t lemon ginger tea, and it’s not sweetened with honey. She goes to lower the cup but pauses as footsteps signal Lan Lifen’s return.

Lan Lifen walks back into the kitchen and pauses, a strange expression overtaking her face as she spies Lan Yue frozen with the cup inches from her lips.

“What’s wrong?” She questions, walking closer.

“I-” Lan Yue hastens to make an excuse. “I just remembered that lemon does funny things to me while I’m pregnant.”

Lan Lifen puts a hand on her shoulder, the grip like iron despite her thin frame. Lan Yue snaps a hand over Lan Lifen’s wrist, slowly pooling her spiritual energy. She shouldn’t be using spiritual energy at all in her unstable condition, but if she’s careful enough, she can draw just enough to painfully bruise the muscles of Lan Lifen’s hand.

Lan Lifen frowns. “I've never heard of lemon being bad for a pregnant woman, but if you insist, I can brew you a different blend.” She uses her free hand to push the cup more towards Lan Yue. “But how about you at least try this first. Maybe the ginger will keep the lemon from triggering your nausea.”

Lan Yue shakes her head, trying to push the cup away only for Lan Lifen’s grip to turn bruising and her eyes to flash. “I insist. Drink the tea.”

Lan Yue purses her lips as some of the tea sloshes on her cheek. “I won’t! I don’t know what you put in it, but I won’t drink it!”

Lan Lifen growls, shoving the cup at Lan Yue and spilling half of it. “Listen to your Elders, girl!”

“No!” Lan Yue kicks at Lan Lifen, sending the table skidding while the woman grimaces, but her hold only tightens. 

“Then how about this!” Lan Lifen spits in Lan Yue’s face. “ Mother knows best .” Lan Yue stills, her concentration breaking and her spiritual energy leaving her hand. “You’d listen to your mother, wouldn’t you?”

“My- My mother’s dead- She died when I-”

“Your adoptive mother is dead.” Lan Lifen says. “But your biological one is right in front of you.” She smiles, but all the warmth is gone from it. “I’ve watched you all these years, watched as you suffered, as you were violated just like I was and forced to bear the children only for them to be taken from you. When I heard you left, I was delighted. You were free from him at last. Your husband couldn’t hurt you anymore. You could get rid of the children that were killing you, and take the boys and leave. Little Lan Huan was left behind, but I would've got him to you as soon as I could.”

Lan Yue doesn’t know what to say. This woman is crazy. “I don’t know what you think is happening, but I love my children and my husband-”

Lan Lifen drops the tea uncaringly on the floor and grabs Lan Yue by the chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to lie anymore. You’re free. He can’t influence you. He can’t reach you. The tea I was trying to get you to drink? It was to give your unborn children a peaceful end. You wouldn’t feel a thing, and your life would be saved. I was trying to save you.”

“I’m already saved! That’s why I came to the Wens-”

Lan Lifen scoffs. “They can’t save you. No one can save you. No one saved me when I screamed, over and over as he violated me. They only came for me hours later, after someone noticed the blood just outside the door.” She leans closer. “But I can save you. All you have to do is drink this, and you’ll be safe. You can leave and live free with your children. I’m just like you. I was forced, and yet I still love my children no matter where they came from. Drink the tea, A-Yue.”

Lan Yue struggles, kicking, digging her nails into the woman’s wrist, but she doesn’t budge. If anything, her grip grows harsh, and her eyes harden. Lan Yue looks her dead in the eyes and says, “No.”

Lan Lifen frowns, her tone turning sad, disappointed. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but it’s the only way I can free you. He’s tainted your mind too much for you to accept freedom. I’ll take care of the children for you after you’re free.”

Lan Yue’s blood runs cold. “What do you mean-”

With a flick of Lan Lifen’s sleeve, Wangji materializes on the floor. Lan Yue feels a dawning sense of horror as Lan Lifen drags her fingers over the strings, causing them to rear up like snakes.

“How did you…” Lan Yue can’t form the rest of the sentence, but Lan Lifen understands anyway.

“Who do you think Wangji belonged to before you?” 

Wangji’s strings curl and writhe, coming closer and closer to Lan Yue’s throat. This is it. This was how she was murdered, and it’ll happen again. If she struggles, she’ll meet her end sooner. If she uses her spiritual power, her twins will die. If she screams, no one will hear her. A-Ying is playing with his friend somewhere. A-Zhan is unconscious. Wen Huifang won’t check on her for another few hours. The house they’re in is on the outskirts of the village, with mostly storage buildings around them. She’s going to die-

“ Mother .” A horrified whisper, a flash of white, red, and then her son starts screaming.

…

Help!

Wei Wuxian’s head snaps up at the voice. He stares into the woods around them, but finds no source. A tingling starts in his chest.

“Brother Wei?” Wen Ning questions, pausing where he was batting at a bush with a stick.

Help me! the voice pleads again, and Wei Wuxian feels the burn in his chest as the seal starts to slowly crumble away.

No more words come, but a tugging starts in his ribcage, urging him back to the village. The burn intensifies, but the seal hasn’t broken yet.

“We need to go back, Wen Ning!” Wei Wuxian grabs the other boy’s arm and starts dragging him back through the underbrush. “Come on!”

“O- Okay.” Wen Ning stutters out, but starts running without prompting. 

It’s barely a minute before they break out of the forest, and Wei Wuxian follows the incessant tugging back to their temporary home. Then he hears the screaming.

Wei Wuxian doubles his pace, running as fast as his tiny legs will take him. The screaming sounds agonized, high pitched and broken. 

“Get help!” He yells at Wen Ning before barging into the house.

The scene that meets him freezes the blood in his veins.

Lan Zhan is screaming.

Lan Zhan is screaming .

Lan Zhan is screaming and writhing on the floor, eyes blank, gouging lines of blood with his nails as he drags them across his chest, heedless of Aunty Yue who is sobbing over him and trying to hold him back, to stop him from hurting himself.

Wei Wuxian rushes forward, and instantly knows what’s wrong. Spiritual energy is lashing around the room, violent and uncontrolled. The seal on Lan Zhan is gone, and his core is burning him from the inside out. 

Wei Wuxian whimpers and grits his teeth, dropping at Lan Zhan’s side even as he feels the first and second rings of the seal on his own chest burn away.

His vision tunnels, but he wills himself to stay awake. He fumbles and bites into his hand, drawing blood. With shaking hands, he paints the simplest seal he can onto Lan Zhan’s chest, up near his collarbones where Lan Zhan’s blood won’t null the seal. It just needs to seal , to stop the spiritual energy already in Lan Zhan’s meridians from doing any more damage. He doesn’t have time to remake the original seal anymore. He has no clue how long Lan Zhan’s been like this, but his meridians could be burned beyond use if this goes on any longer.

Wei Wuxian finishes the final line and Lan Zhan drops still and silent onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Wei Wuxian’s seal is hanging on by a thread. Wei Wuxian paints the same simple seal onto his own chest, but he’s too late. 

Fire roars through his veins, his hand seizes, spasming through the final line, and he passes out to the echo of burning pain.