Chapter Text
No body, no gravestone. It leaves Lan Zhan tethered to the place he held Wei Ying for the last time. Years of searching amount to nothing but he does not stop. It is what keeps him in sound mind.
Perhaps there is another life where he doesn’t suffer the ache of loss. A life where when Wei Ying dies, he doesn’t take with him the colors of the sky and the grass and the birds, leaving everything gray and dull no matter where Lan Zhan stands to watch.
That is not this life. In this life he walks through the days with a phantom hole in his chest that Wei Ying has created in his abandon.
He wants to cry, to curl on the ground and beg for Wei Ying to come back but a lifetime of practice allows him to focus on the bland horizon expressionlessly.
Wei Ying is somewhere far away. He is not willing to listen. Yet.
No one else comes. No one else mourns Wei Ying as Lan Zhan does. The rise of demonic cultivation keeps his name in peoples mouths, Lan Zhan does not listen and if by chance he overhears, he doesn’t correct. He knows Wei Ying and only wants one thing. If it doesn’t bring him back, it is not worth his time.
Jiang Cheng arrives by sword. Lan Zhan senses his presence but doesn’t look back to acknowledge him as he formally should, focusing instead on extinguishing the dislike that springs within him at the Sect Leader’s company.
Jiang Cheng walks towards the edge of the cliff where Lan Zhan refuses to look over and does exactly what he could not. The man leans forward, watching, observing. Lan Zhan can no longer bear it when he sees Zidian flash in response to Jiang Cheng’s feelings.
“Jiang-Zongzhu,” Lan Zhan calls out, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. The man does not react, Zidian only flashes brighter, letting Lan Zhan know the words have indeed reached him. “Not here,” Lan Zhan never begs, yet in that moment he nearly does. Jiang Cheng says nothing and leaves without sparing him a glance.
The two find themselves at the cliff more often as the weeks pass. Every time Lan Zhan thought he had seen the last of Jiang Cheng, the man would arrive with Zidian leaving a rippling trail of violets and blues behind him. Neither of them spoke or acknowledged one another. Lan Zhan cannot say that it is pleasant to have someone there who remembers nor could he say being alone would be entirely preferable.
It is Jiang Cheng that cuts the silence a month into their unplanned meet ups. “Are you still looking for him?”
Lan Zhan cranes his neck to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes, who clearly struggles from having been the one to break the stillness.
“Mn.”
“You should stop.” Jiang Cheng doesn’t turn to look at him, but he raises a hand and rubs his chest, like something there causes him discomfort. “He’s gone too far, It’s been this way for a while.”
This startles Lan Zhan, he knows it is no lie. Jiang Cheng releases a shuddering breath as though it pains him to do so and for a moment, despite Lan Zhan’s dislike for the man, he couldn't help the pour of sympathy for him.
Lan Zhan blinks away the sting in his eyes, his breaths come out uneven as he stands on shaky legs. His hands want to reach for something but he lets them fall limp on his sides. He isn’t sure what to say but the words leave his lips without much thought. “He was your brother… you could have done something. Now he will be forever remembered for being cruel, when he was only doing his best.”
Jiang Cheng turns to look at Lan Zhan with a stone-like expression. The usual scowling mask is gone and replaced by something vulnerable yet unreadable, “Not you. You wouldn’t remember him for that.”
“No.” Lan Zhan would never.
“Then that’s enough. Who cares what people who have never met him think or say?”
Lan Zhan thought he was prepared to put an end to his search when the time comes, when evidence makes it clear that it will lead nowhere. This is it. He knows Jiang Cheng has halted the capture and execution of demonic cultivators some months ago. Lan Zhan didn’t think of it much then but now it only cemented the truth he isn't willing to accept.
When Jiang Cheng moves to leave, Lan Zhan asks “What will you remember him for?” It makes Jiang Cheng’s steps falter, he sways for a moment before letting out a breath.
“Many things.” Jiang Cheng clips.
“Like?” It isn’t like Lan Zhan to prod, but there is a desperation to.
“Like the obvious.” Jiang Cheng clenches his fist, Zidian dances in response.
“And the obscure?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head.
“The forgotten?” Lan Zhan’s voice is almost gentle, worried that Jiang Cheng will ignore the question and leave.
Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue before saying, “His generosity, and I’m not saying that idiot has a lot to give but whatever he has, if you need it, is all yours.”
Lan Zhan nods his head, eager for more of Wei Ying that it aches. “And?”
Jiang Cheng seems to realize with a huff. Lan Zhan and Wei Ying shared so little compared to him after all. In the beginning he seems reluctant, perhaps from sharing memories precious to him, or sharing them with him— but Lan Zhan doesn’t stand down nor does he force anything out of Jiang Cheng. He stands, watching Jiang Cheng struggle with his thoughts.
Perhaps Jiang Cheng is as parched as Lan Zhan is, perhaps he aches in a way that can only be relieved by speaking, because he goes on and on. As he does so, Lan Zhan can almost see behind his eyelids Wei Ying’s bright smile, black hair framing his handsome face, eyes twinkling with mischief and warmth.
Jiang Cheng begins by telling Lan Zhan about their early childhood. The introduction, impressions. Wei Ying loves soup. His sleeping habits are disgusting and ingrained. He can climb the tallest trees but can never go back down. He always smiles but a slight twitch means it is forced.
The stories pour out of Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan receives every single drop, so vividly told, bringing them to life in the eye of his mind.
They were happy moments, all of them. By the expressions Jiang Cheng makes as he shares them, he hadn’t considered them to be so until that moment he shares them. Getting in trouble, being disciplined together— even these memories that were previously disconcerting, now bring a smile to Jiang Cheng’s face.
Dawn breaks when Jiang Cheng decides he is done. The two sit facing each other. “Did he leave anything behind?” Lan Zhan is hopeful. Jiang Cheng shakes his head. That was all of it, shared between them like bread.
They both sit stone-faced, the last of Wei Ying melting away around them like swirling ribbons of smoke from a dying fire, dancing around them in circles before disappearing into nothing, “I had to put the sect first.” Jiang Cheng says through clenched teeth. Their eyes hook and Jiang Cheng looks like he is seeing Lan Zhan for the first time. A guilty thought lurks in his mind of the courage Jiang Cheng had to muster to share as much, despite how he has treated the man after finding out about their golden cores.
Lan Zhan shakes his head, he is seeing Jiang Cheng for the first time too. “He only gave the Wens a chance to experience what he had— when you accepted him as family.”