Chapter Text
Long before there was a man known as Qingheng-jun or Lan-zongzhu or Lan Yunrui, there was a boy called Lan Miao.
Long before there was a man known as Lan-xiansheng, long before there was a man called shufu or Tongzuo-jun or Lan Qiren, there was a boy called Lan Sen.
And long before their story became something sad, there were two brothers who loved each other more than anything.
Lan Sen is four. Lan Miao is seven.
A fierce thunderstorm rolls through Cloud Recesses, one of the worst in years (at least, that’s what A-Sen has heard some of the grown-ups say, and A-Sen is inclined to believe them). Thunder booms louder than he’s ever heard it before, lightning blazing through the sky bright enough to make it seem like daytime and loud enough to sound like a whipcrack.
It all startles little A-Sen awake and keeps him awake, has him cowering under his blankets, so afraid he’s shaking. A particularly loud peal of thunder sends him running to his brother, crying, “Gege!” at the top of his voice. His brother just lifts the blankets on his own bed, allowing A-Sen to scramble in and wrapping his arms around him.
“It’s just a thunderstorm, didi,” gege whispers over the whipping wind, “It’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Just then, there’s another crack of thunder, one that rattles the walls of the Hanshi, and A-Sen lets out a yelp, burrowing further into his brother’s side. Gege holds him tighter.
“It’s too loud!” A-Sen cries, “It’s too loud, gege!”
But his brother just holds him close and shushes him and starts to tell him a story of a god who makes the thunder with his drum and his wife who brightens the sky with her lightning. It doesn’t make everything less scary, but it does help a little. Gege lets him stay the rest of the night with him too, keeps him wrapped up in the blanket in his arms until the sun comes up.
Everyone around them says what good brothers they are. Everyone tells them that Lan Miao is such a wonderful and protective older brother and that Lan Sen is such a delightful and loyal younger brother. The Prides of Lan, everyone calls them as they grow. They stay so close that they seem to share each other’s thoughts.
(They have an older sister as well, older than either of them, but she has been over in the girls’ dormitories for some time now, and the brothers don’t see her as much as they would like. Lan Yajing is different from A-Sen’s gege, more mischievous, a bit of a troublemaker, while gege has to behave himself since he’s the next sect leader. It’s nice when they do get to see her, though it isn’t often enough for A-Sen’s liking.)
Lan Sen is seven and Lan Miao is ten, and Lan Sen sits on the ground nursing a skinned knee with fat tears rolling down his still-round cheeks. That’s how his brother finds him, asking, “A-Sen, can you tell me what happened?”
He sniffles loudly, knowing what he’s about to say might get him into trouble, and tells his brother, “Me and Lan Bai were playing a game, and we were running, and I know we’re not supposed to run ‘cause it’s against the rules but— but we having so much fun playing our game and then I f-fell and hurt my knee!”
He’s all but wailing at the end of his sentence, but gege just smiles at him gently and pets his hair, saying, “Here, I’ll carry you home and then a-niang can look at your knee and make it all better!”
And true to his word, gege picks him up, cradling his little brother in his arms. A-Sen just settles in, nestling himself against his brother’s chest.
“Am— Am I gonna get punished for running?”
“We can ask a-niang, but I think you got punished enough when you hurt your knee. What do you think, A-Sen?”
A-Sen just nods, burying his face more forcefully into gege’s chest. (Their mother agrees, with a soft smile, that skinning his knee was punishment enough for today.)
Lan Sen is nine and Lan Miao is twelve when they begin to spar together. Lan Miao has been praised for his skills since he took up practicing the sword. Lan Sen is praised for how quickly he picks up his own skills, both with the sword and in the classroom. They excel in everything they do, in every way.
“Such good boys,” their mother praises them, “Always so well behaved and intelligent. What a lucky mother I am!”
Being such a fine cultivator herself, it’s not empty praise. She teaches them so much in regards to cultivation and art and music.
Their father teaches them what they are meant to become one day.
Lan Miao, Lan Yunrui, is meant to be the clan leader one day. When he isn’t in class or sparring, he follows their father, learning all that will be required of him when he takes over as Sect Leader Lan one day. Lan Sen does not have to learn all that his brother does, but sometimes he begs to join them. He just wants to spend time with his brother whenever he can. Their father lets him. He must think that some good can come of it, so he carefully teaches both of them how to run the sect.
“We’re going to run the sect together one day, xiongzhang,” Lan Sen says warmly, after one such lesson, the two of them helping their father answer correspondence from other sects.
(He stopped calling him ‘gege’ and even ‘ge’ some time ago, having been told by their father it sounded too childish. ‘Xiongzhang’ is much more grown up… so he was told.)
“Mn,” xiongzhang smiles at him, “Of course we will. We’re the Prides of Lan. You know I’ll be by your side forever, A-Sen.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
They’re good boys, they’re told: serious but not somber, cheerful but not too exuberant, understanding of their accomplishments without being prideful.
Lan Sen is eleven, and Lan Yunrui is fourteen. Young Lan Sen is valiantly hiding back tears, cradling his left arm in his right, the joint of his wrist swollen and red, his hand at an odd angle. Pain shoots up to his elbow, too, and he swallows another round of tears. He’s eleven now, too big to cry just because he got hurt, but it hurts a lot. Xiongzhang just walks him slowly to the healers’, his hand on the shoulder of Lan Sen's uninjured arm.
“Well, Lan er-gongzi,” the healer says calmly, “it looks to me like you’ve broken your wrist… and maybe disjointed your elbow, as well. Can you tell me how you got hurt?”
“I-… I slipped by the river,” he tells her, “I started falling backwards, so— so I put my arm back to catch myself, and when I landed on it, it started hurting so bad—”
“Yes, I’ve seen this happen before. One of the elders broke their wrist like this last winter, in fact, slipped and fell when it was icy. It’s very easy to fix, er-gongzi. We just need to reset the bones and joints, and then with correctly applied spiritual energy and a good plaster, I think you’ll be all healed in about four weeks.”
Lan Sen feels his eyes get big when she says four weeks. He has things to do! He can’t have his arm in plaster for four whole weeks! The healer assures him he’ll be fine, but once he gets over the shock of having to be in a plaster, he realizes what she meant by having to set the bones. He turns tear-filled eyes on his brother (who thankfully hasn’t left). Xiongzhang sits by him on the bed, smiling gently.
“You’re going to be alright, A-Sen,” he says, “I promise.”
“But— But it’s going to hurt! Gege, it’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Probably… but sometimes things have to hurt before they get better. If the healer doesn’t set your wrist, then it won’t heal properly, and it will hurt for the rest of your life. Like how Xun-zhangbei has that limp from her leg being broken when she was younger.”
“I didn’t break my leg, though, it’s my wrist—”
“But it will still be painful,” xiongzhang explains, taking his uninjured hand, “It will get sore and stiff whenever the weather changes or if you use it too much. You don’t want that, do you?”
Pouting, Lan Sen mutters, “No… no, I guess not…”
“I figured. And of course, I don’t want my didi in pain forever. Do you want me to stay with you while Healer Liu sets your wrist? I’ll stay as long as you want.”
“Won’t fuqin come looking for you? Don’t you have lessons with him today?”
“I think he’ll understand if I don’t come for lessons today.”
And he stays. He brushes the hair back from Lan Sen’s forehead and holds his hand and wipes away his tears when he cries from the pain. Their father does come looking for him, but just as xiongzhang predicted, he doesn’t make xiongzhang leave for lessons. He just makes sure Lan Sen is okay and then praises xiongzhang for staying with him and taking care of him.
“My Yunrui is such a good elder brother,” their father says, “and I know my A-Sen will heal quickly and return to lessons soon… but not before you’re ready. Healing takes time, and it’s important that you heal properly, understand?”
Lan Sen mumbles his acquiescence. The healer gave him something to ease his pain, and it makes him feel fuzzy-headed and sleepy. Xiongzhang still doesn’t leave his side. He stays with him all night in the infirmary, despite the Healers and their parents trying to coax him otherwise.
“No, I don’t want to leave my didi,” he says quietly, his hand stroking over Lan Sen’s hair, “I don’t want him to feel lonely.”
Half-dozing, his mind fuzzy as a little rabbit, Lan Sen mumbles, “Won’t be lonely with you here, gege.”
He falls asleep easily with his brother by his side.
Lan Sen, now Lan Qiren, is thirteen, and Lan Yunrui is sixteen, and they are both well aware of what their lives will be and of their roles within their sect.
Xiongzhang will be Sect Leader Lan. He will be in charge of the whole of Cloud Recesses, the head of one of the most prestigious clans in the cultivation world.
Lan Qiren will be his second. Maybe he thinks he will become the Grand Master, will come to educate their future disciples and those who come to Gusu to attend the famous lectures at Cloud Recesses.
Attending the Cloud Recesses lectures for the first time as a student, xiongzhang seems to enjoy being around all the disciples from the other sects, is making friends among some future sect leaders and head disciples. Lan Qiren is maybe feeling a little put out at not being able to attend. He knows all the subjects as well as any of the older disciples! Maybe even better— no, he must remember their rules. Arrogance is forbidden. Be respectful and humble. Do not make assumptions about others. Lan Qiren sighs. Perhaps it will be good for him to wait. Have patience. That is another rule.
“I can’t wait until it’s your turn to attend the lectures, Qiren,” xiongzhang says one night just before the night bell, “You’re going to enjoy it so much. We learn a lot here in Cloud Recesses by ourselves, but it’s wonderful to be able to learn from disciples from other Sects, too. You’ll really like it.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do… my didi is so intelligent, you’ll surely do very well.”
“Tell me about the other sects, xiongzhang?” Lan Qiren asks, “What are their disciples like? Are they very different from us?”
He hasn’t had the chance to visit any of the other sects yet, won’t go until the next cultivation conference comes up, and he’ll get to leave Cloud Recesses and Gusu for the first time. He’ll get to go to Yunmeng.
“Not so different, no. They don’t follow all the same rules we do here, and some of them have been punished for breaking certain rules… but really, they aren’t so different at all.”
“Please, xiongzhang, tell me more!”
And so xiongzhang tells him all about the strong saber work of the Qinghe Nie and the fierce exuberance of the Yunmeng Jiang forms and the elegance of the way the Lanling Jin wield their swords. He tells him of the different dialects all the disciples speak when talking to those from their own sects. He tells him about the things they discuss in the lectures and who some of the attending disciples are in their home sects. There are a few future sect leaders from some smaller sects, including the Baling Ouyang and the Pingyang Yao. Jin Guangshan, the future Sect Leader Jin is here as well, though xiongzhang doesn’t seem to have a high opinion of him. (He doesn’t seem to think highly of Ouyang-gongzi and Yao-gongzi, either, but talking behind other people’s back is prohibited.)
The only time Lan Qiren gets to see the visiting disciples is when he and his brother spar as a demonstration of proper Gusu Lan techniques. There are some whispers when Lan Qiren steps into the training area. Though he is thirteen, he hasn’t really hit a growth spurt yet, and he’s sure he must look small and unassuming to the visiting disciples.
He hears whispers of, “I don’t know that this is a very fair fight,” and “This little junior is going to fight Lan-gongzi?” and “This boy looks like a stiff breeze would carry him away!”
Do not make assumptions about others.
It’s an incredible fight, the brothers having never fought in front of outsiders before and both eager to show their skills, especially Lan Qiren. Arrogance is forbidden, but he wants to show how good he is. Their match lasts nearly a quarter of a shichen before a draw is declared and they’re both panting and sweating. The whispers start again:
“The Prides of Lan indeed!”
“That’s Lan er-gongzi?”
“They fight like they know what the other is thinking! Incredible!”
“Lan-gongzi will be so lucky to have him for a second-in-command!”
Arrogance may be forbidden, but Lan Qiren doesn’t think he’ll be begrudged a little pride at hearing such comments.
Later that year, they visit Yunmeng for the cultivation conference, and xiongzhang falls ill. Not dangerously so, just a fever and a bit of a cough. One of the healers says that it’s likely the humid climate of Lotus Pier does not agree with him and that he will feel better soon. Lan Qiren refuses to leave his brother’s side. He remembers skinned knees and a broken wrist and a violent thunderstorm and just plants himself at xiongzhang’s bedside. No matter how xiongzhang says he’s fine and their father tries to coax him away, Lan Qiren won’t leave.
“Ah, such a loyal boy, my didi,” xiongzhang smiles, brushing hair back from Lan Qiren’s forehead, “I’m going to be just fine. You heard the healer. He said it happens to visitors to Lotus Pier all the time. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“I know,” Lan Qiren mumbles, pouting slightly.
“If you know, then you should go join fuqin in the conference.”
“Why would I want to go to the conference if you’re not there with me? It’s boring, and all the sect leaders talk without saying anything—”
“Do not insult people, Qiren,” xiongzhang teases.
“Besides, you always sat with me when I was ill,” Lan Qiren continues, still pouting slightly, “One of the rules is to be a filial child, and another is to be loyal. Would I be a filial and loyal brother if I didn’t do the same for you?”
Xiongzhang just smiles at him, one that’s soft and sweet and that he only gives his little brother. It’s half exasperation and half endearment, something that says ‘you’re being difficult but it’s okay because I love you’. Lan Qiren smiles back, delighted as always when his brother gives in and lets him stay.
As he thought, the conference is much more enjoyable when his brother is back by his side.