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"I've been searching for placement."
Lan Wangji waits a moment, the pain from his healing wounds making the time move slowly. When Xichen does not go on, wanting some kind of response, Wangji says, "Placement?"
"For the boy." Xichen is inspecting his knees, using a hand to brush away the nonexistent dust. "It is time for him to leave the nursery. Past time."
Wangji still doesn't understand. "He will come here. To live with me, now that his illness has passed."
"Wangji," Xichen sighs, expecting the argument to come, "Raising a child is hard work. He is a good, brave boy, but he is young and needing constant attention still."
"He is my son." He is Wei Ying's son, Wangji does not say. "A-Yuan will want for nothing."
"Wangji. It is selfish to keep this child by yourself when there are couples who would be better able to care for him." Xichen smiles sadly at him. "None will say that saving a child is the wrong thing, but he will be better off-"
"With his father." Wangji says. He has never interrupted his brother before. "Yuan is my son, now. I will raise him. I will care for him. I will keep him here, with me, for as long as the rules allow, or I will find somewhere that suits him, us, better."
Xichen stares, gaping. "You would leave the sect? Wangji, Wei Wuxian is gone! He is dead and keeping this boy will not bring him back."
Wangji doesn't lose his temper. It is a near thing, but with the subject at hand, he can't afford to set his healing back any further. "I have made my decision." Wangji leans forward and catches his brother's wide, angry eyes. "He is-" he swallows and closes his eyes. "He is all I have. All that is left of the good in Wei Ying's heart."
Xichen is silent for a long time. Long enough that Wangji can't tell, from experience or their familiarity, what his brother is thinking. "Very well, Wangji." Xichen's voice does not approve, but it doesn't condemn either. Wangji knows his brother worries about pushing him, worries that if Wangji left the sect, he would not return. Either by will of the elders, or by his own broken heart.
"You allow it?" Wangji says, opening his eyes again and staring at his brother. His brother has always been the best at reading his expressions. The desperation on Wangji's face is unmistakable. Xichen sighs and nods. Wangji leans back, easing the stretch of the wounds on his back. They haven't yet finished scabbing over, despite having occurred nearly 15 months ago.
Xichen leaves and Wangji lays on his front on the thin mat he'd been given for his seclusion. The room he'd furnished, sparsely according to the Lan rules and regulations, had been emptied of everything except essentials, a requirement of his punishment and seclusion. He wonders if he'll get all of his things back and thinks of the book with the pressed flower tucked lovingly inside. There is a ribbon, red as blood, that Wangji keeps tucked inside his light robes. The elders hadn't been able to pry his hand open to release it and Uncle had not seen fit to request it, after Wangji woke from the fever. He's told he lashed out at anyone foolish enough to try to take it from him. He doesn't remember.
A-Yuan is allowed to visit once a week, after his fever had healed. A better deal than Wangji had been expecting from experience. The boy brings little trinkets, rocks and bruised flowers that Wangji has to leave on the porch. A-Yuan has much to talk about, the nursery being home to two other children; one a-Yuan's age and the other much younger. They're not sure how old a-Yuan is, how much of his size is from years of life and how much is years of malnourishment, but every time Wangji sees him, he looks better than the last.
The idea of holding his son is the only thing keeping Wangji from breaking. He stays in one piece for Yuan, who doesn't even really remember meeting him. A-Yuan calls him Hanguang-jun, which makes Wangji's heart hurt for the 'Rich-gege' of before. He suspects his uncle had a talk with the boy after hearing him address Wangji that first supervised visit.
It is a balm on many of Wangji's wounds to see the boy alive and thriving. It is a pain he will gladly live with.