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Wei Wuxian blinked to clear the tears of pain clouding his sight, dragging himself to sit upright. With the hand that hadn’t just slammed into a boulder with his full weight behind it, he scrubbed at his face and tried to tamp down wave after wave of thoughtless terror that had already left him frozen for too long.
“Leave,” Jiang Cheng said, voice low and cold. He stood squarely between Wei Wuxian and the- an involuntary shudder went through Wei Wuxian at the mere thought of the yaoguai . How much resentment would it have fed on to grow this large? And it had the worst possible shape it could have. A wolf. Not a dog, but close enough to render him too paralysed to move fast enough.
Jiang Cheng’s command went ignored as Jin Ling continued to hover at the sidelines, sword miraculously still steady in his hands. Thanks to how the beast had backed away several steps at Zidian’s crackle, Wei Wuxian couldn’t see it anymore, not with Jiang Cheng between them.
You don’t have to worry about dogs anymore. I’ll help you chase them away.
This wasn’t the time for it. Wei Wuxian put away the twang of hope-sorrow-regret deep in his heart and called out, “Jin Ling! Do as he says.”
Jin Ling’s jaw set itself more stubbornly as he dug his feet harder into the muddy earth. Wei Wuxian sighed. It had come to this. Of course it had, the boy was more stubborn than his Jiujiu. He called out, “A-Ling, I need you to help me up.”
A-Ling, bless his caring and gullible soul, hesitated for only a few moments before making a frustrated noise and scrambling to Wei Wuxian’s side. The creature growled deep in its throat, and he could sense the weight of its gaze following Jin Ling, but it didn’t dare move. Jiang Cheng tensed before him, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t tell anymore if the air was thick because of the storm that had been hovering at the horizon since last night, or the tension of an impending fight. His hands were still trembling.
The moment Jin Ling reached his side, Wei Wuxian held on with all he had. “Got him, Jiang Cheng!”
“Hey!”
Jiang Cheng struck.
Jin Ling strained against his hold, towards the fight. “Let me go!” Before he could use his unfair advantage and break his grip using his spiritual energy, Wei Wuxian scolded, “Look at him! Would another fighter be a help or a hindrance, in such little space?”
With Jin Ling out of the space, Jiang Cheng had unleashed Zidian fully. Blade and whip danced in flashes of purple and silver around the dark mass of the monster, its claws, the deadly sharp teeth- another shudder went through Wei Wuxian; he was close to throwing up.
Jin Ling crouched at his side, concerned. Patting his back to reassure him that he was alright, Wei Wuxian focused on Jiang Cheng instead. On every movement of Sandu and Zidian. It was an excellent distraction. The two weapons were being used in incredible synchrony. Even if he had his core and Suibian, he might not win against this Jiang Cheng. His Shidi had the advantage of experience now, had learnt so much, gotten so much better with the years. He was ready to burst with pride.
The fight was over in a minute or two. Jiang Cheng wasn’t hurt. Going boneless with relief, Wei Wuxian let A-Ling go and slumped against the rough bark of the tree behind him. Zidian withdrew from around the yaoguai’s neck, and Jiang Cheng tugged Sandu out of its maw. Wiping it off on his already bloodied robes, he stalked back to them.
Without a word and with a furious scowl, he checked them for injuries. Jin Ling’s attempts to reassure him that he was fine went ignored as he took their pulse, frown deepening in concentration.
There came a familiar bark, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but flinch as the now familiar, still frightening shape of Fairy made an appearance again from across the small clearing. With a curse, Jin Ling hurried over and grabbed Fairy by her collar, coaxing her away from them. “Come on, girl. Don’t go there, they’re fine.”
“Go back to Jinlintai with her,” Jiang Cheng told him curtly, and Jin Ling stared after them morosely. I’m fine , Wei Wuxian mouthed at him exaggeratedly, shooting him a discreet thumbs up that Jiang Cheng definitely noticed but didn’t comment on. Jin Ling also set off without a word. Like uncle, like nephew indeed.
Careful but distant, Jiang Cheng immobilised Wei Wuxian’s definitely bruised, probably broken forearm with a few sticks and strips of cloth. Wei Wuxian didn’t try to make excuses, give explanations, or reassure him. He knew better than to argue, simply bracing himself for the inevitable outburst.
As the terror churning his stomach abated, Wei Wuxian wondered, shamelessly, hopefully, if Jiang Cheng was doing it on purpose - sitting right in front of him, blocking the sight of those deadly claws and matted fur from his sight.
When Jiang Cheng spoke, he looked Wei Wuxian right in the eye. “It’s almost broken. You need a doctor.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad-”
With a withering look, Jiang Cheng silenced him.
~~~
Maybe there wasn’t going to be an outburst.
He almost wished Jiang Cheng would scold him for putting himself in harm’s way, or even for being useless before a simple yaoguai and leaving Jin Ling vulnerable. At least that would mean they spoke. They hadn’t exchanged more than a couple words - that too by compulsion - since the mess in Guanyin Temple.
Wei Wuxian laughed quietly to himself, staring up at the relatively plain ceiling of his room. He had asked for a room that was less festooned with gold, and this was pretty good. He’d adapted to living temporarily at Jinlintai for now.
It might take time, but he would learn to live with the silence between them, the same way he’d learnt to live without all the rest of his life dragging him down irrevocably. Maybe there would be no outburst, no attempt to check on him, and that was okay. It would be easier to keep the distance that way.
There was a knock at the door.
He sighed, pushing himself up with his functional hand. “Come in.”
Jin Ling more or less burst in. He’d changed out of the dirty robes, and had some salve smeared onto a cut on his cheek. The heaviness of impending rain had finally broken, and everything outside was wet and grey. It was pouring. The air that blew in through the open door was cool and clean in the way only rain can make it.
A-Ling’s eyes fixed immediately onto the sling Wei Wuxian’s arm was in, and the frown deepened. “How long will it take to heal?”
“Two weeks. It’s not really broken.” He waited for a few seconds. When Jin Ling continued to stand at the door morosely, he sighed and beckoned him in. “Stop sulking there, I’m fine .”
Jin Ling hovered, hesitating. Before he could decide, another person made the decision for him.
“What are you doing here?”
Jin Ling looked over his shoulder at Jiang Cheng, who had appeared with his scowl in place. Wei Wuxian blinked.
“I came to ask if he was alright,” Jin Ling replied in a mumble.
Huffing, Jiang Cheng stepped into the room, and Wei Wuxian noticed for the first time that he was balancing a bowl in one hand. “Before being that concerned for him, maybe you should learn to look after yourself better. Did you even think before going off into the woods alone?”
Wei Wuxian felt a pang of irritation rise in him, but before it could become anything substantial, Jin Ling seemed to relax a bit. His drooping head rose a little as he answered, “I took Fairy, she came and got you in time. Besides, how could I know there was a monster there?”
Jiang Cheng snapped, “Next time you set off like that, tell someone that isn't your dog ! If something had happened to you, what would I-” Cutting himself off, he scowled harder. “Who would’ve attended to your duties? Me?”
“You probably would have,” Jin Ling mumbled under his breath. Wei Wuxian stifled a sudden laugh.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” A-Ling replied, looking at Jiang Cheng with all too innocent eyes.
Scoffing, Jiang Cheng marched over to Wei Wuxian’s bed and set down the bowl he’d brought. “Here.”
Phantom bitterness lingered on his tongue at the sight of the familiar, uniquely disgusting brown liquid. Dread overtook everything else. “Ai, this terror’s followed us from Yunmeng to Lanling too?”
Jiang Cheng stared down at him, impassive.
With a smile that was more of a grimace, Wei Wuxian lifted the bowl of medicine and downed it in one long, excruciating go. A cup of water did nothing to erase that horrible taste of it.
“What’s with that look?,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Still can’t handle some bitter medicine?”
Shijie always used to have a spoon of honey or a sweet to stick in our mouths after it. Wei Wuxian took the memory and stowed it away in his heart, not bothering to reply, pouring himself another cup of water.
There was a moment of silence, till Jiang Cheng turned once again to Jin Ling. “I know it’s difficult, but being a Sect Leader means you owe your people the duty of looking after yourself. You’re responsible for yourself as well as for them. Do you understand?”
Anything this sensible coming out of his mouth back in the old days would have meant Wei Wuxian teasing him about it for a whole year. Jiang Cheng was indeed the one suited to lead sects, not Wei Wuxian. It was reassuring to know that giving away his core had been truly worth it. If Jiang Cheng could read his thoughts now, he’d probably be strangled to death.
A-Ling went serious in a very grown-up way, and it made Wei Wuxian sad for the thousandth time that he’d missed most of his childhood. He squared his shoulders, as if to carry the burden better, and nodded to his Jiujiu. “Yes.”
“A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian piped up. “He’s right. But know that we will look after you too, alright?”
Jin Ling nodded, looking a bit confused, as if what he was hearing was something he never needed to be told, something that he already knew.
Jiang Cheng turned to fix Wei Wuxian with a cold look. “He doesn’t need you to tell him that. Besides, who are you to say anything about it?” Guilt and anger spiked in Wei Wuxian’s chest, but Jiang Cheng’s next words made it pause. “You’re as bad as him! Look what you did to yourself, going in unprepared, without knowing what you were against. Was it arrogance or stupidity?”
There it was. The outburst. Not for failing to help, but for throwing himself in harm’s way. Wei Wuxian had to remind himself to breathe and not freeze. It might have been years, but he knew his shidi. It meant that he still cared, and the thought made him want to scream into his pillows.
It had been too soon, Jiang Cheng hadn’t let go yet, and Wei Wuxian like a klutz, had yet again waltzed into his life and held him back in the mire that they were to each other. He should’ve known better than to accept Jin Ling’s offer to stay here-
Chuckling weakly, unconvincing even to his own ears, Wei Wuxian waved his good arm. “My bad, my bad. It’s hard to let go of old fears, I’m afraid, haha.”
“Did you even listen to me?” Jiang Cheng snapped.
“Jiang Cheng-”
“Do you ever listen, or do you just blunder through everything, making stupid assumptions about what other people want!?”
Wei Wuxian felt his frustration building, felt the sharp burn of it in his heart. “Jiang Cheng!” he snapped back, harsher than he’d meant to. They both knew this was about something more. Mind racing, he tried to think of how to avert the pointless mess he could feel them barreling towards.
Jaw clenched painfully tight, Jiang Cheng turned to Jin Ling. “Go get that dog inside your residence before she comes looking for you, she’s been running around my room since we got back. And the report on revenues is here, you better go figure out which respectable advisors are skimming off the top in time for tomorrow’s council.”
Jin Ling looked between them, like he wanted to argue. He hesitated for a moment before thinking better of it and slipping away with one last, anxious look. The moment the door shut behind him, Wei Wuxian took a slow breath. “Jiang Cheng, I don’t want us to have any more misunderstandings.”
He laughed, incredulous, and it stoked the irritation that had settled low behind Wei Wuxian’s ribs. “Great! Good! Then start with listening to what I just said. Did I say it was your fault for being afraid of that creature? Or did I say it was your fault for trying to handle it without any backup!?”
How was he supposed to say he knew it was the latter, that he pretended it was the former just to avoid acknowledging that there was still that kind of concern between them when it should have ended long, long ago?
Steeling himself, he told Jiang Cheng, “Stop worrying about me. It’s not good for either of us.”
Jiang Cheng’s face twisted into something painful as he froze. “You think I wouldn’t have stopped if I could!?” The words stung like a knife twisting inside him. “Why would you care, anyway. Your debt’s been repaid, hasn’t it? There’s nothing tying you down to me or to Lotus Pier anymore.”
Wei Wuxian fought to keep his face from crumpling, fought to keep looking him in the eye, but it was fruitless to keep the words from spilling out. “I paid back the life debt I owed Jiang Shushu. After leaving you behind so many times... I know I don’t have the right to call Yunmeng my home. I don’t have the right to care about you, or Shijie, or even A-Ling. I know I don’t deserve to!”
With a breath that choked him despite his best efforts, he went on. We only keep hurting each other. It hurt just to ask this of Jiang Cheng, but did they have a choice? “It’s not easy to pretend like I’ve moved on. I know it’s too much to ask. But please, just make this easier for both of us,” he said, as gently as he could. “Let's end this here. Let’s pretend like we don’t care that much anymore.”
Jiang Cheng stared. The urge to fall apart right there in front of him built like unyielding pressure inside Wei Wuxian as Jiang Cheng’s stubborn mouth trembled in a way which meant that tears were soon to follow. It was so silly, that one familiar thing was reassuring amidst all that had changed between them.
“Do you still need to pretend, Wei Wuxian?” he finally asked. There was no rage behind it, and it only hurt more to see him in tears. “After growing up being told that you mattered only if you looked after me and A-Jie. After we blamed you for things that weren’t your fault. After you chose leaving as an outcast over continuing to stay with us, after-” He stopped abruptly, eyes flicking to Zidian, fist loosening around it, and Wei Wuxian knew he was thinking about the evening everything had fallen apart, the day Yunmeng had fallen, the day Zidian had fallen against his back. “Why would you want to go back to that? Haven’t you lost enough? Haven’t you given up enough of yourself!?”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes shifted to his wounded arm. He was talking about the core again. Just thinking about it made Wei Wuxian’s bones feel like lead, like the weight of it would drag them down, down, down again. He stood up. “It wasn’t your fault, A-Cheng.”
“Don’t-” He shook his head, stepping back. “Don’t.”
“Jiang Cheng. I had to.”
“Of course. So many reasons for it, aren’t there?” His eyes burnt with anger. He was shaking, and Wei Wuxian wanted so, so badly to make him see, somehow, that there hadn’t been a choice, but he was still talking. “You had to give up everything for me, like my parents asked you to. You had to, to repay your debt. You had to fix me, because I would’ve been useless and broken otherwise.” He laughed, a terrible, twisted laugh. “You just had to.”
There were a hundred things running through his mind, too fast to keep up with. Mostly about how wrong Jiang Cheng was, some stubborn ones about how right he was too. “You were never meant to know. I never wanted to see you like this. You never should’ve known-”
“So you meant to lie to me forever.”
“Don’t-”
“Do you really think you’re the only one with secrets? The only one who made sacrifices without being asked to!?”
Wei Wuxian felt the cold of the wind seep into his blood and freeze it to a crawl of dread. His mind stilled. “What?” he managed to say, voice almost swallowed up by the rumble of thunder that roared outside.
Jiang Cheng hesitated. For a moment, Wei Wuxian saw doubt and the beginnings of regret flash across his face and panicked that he would leave, but he didn’t. That stubborn, sad rage won.
“You think I left you and A-jie alone to get A-Die and A-Niang’s bodies back, don’t you,” he said, tears finally rolling down his face, and Wei Wuxian’s hand itched to wipe them away again. “I was coming to help you, Wei Wuxian. You were hobbling around town, barely able to walk. How would you get food, medicine, fight that many soldiers? But it doesn’t matter. I was just in time.”
It- No. “No.” Wei Wuxian shook his head, stepping away as the words fell into place. It couldn’t be.
Jiang Cheng was wearing a pathetic image of a smile, and Wei Wuxian felt the broken hopelessness of it gnawing at his own heart. “Yes. It made sense. It was the only way I could keep you both safe.”
Wei Wuxian floundered. “Why- Your core- none of it would’ve happened if-” I never asked you to! “Why did you do that!?” he cried out. “ I was meant to keep you safe!”- he’d failed he’d failed he’d failed - “Why would you ever do that ? Why didn’t you just let them take me? Why didn’t you tell me-”
“Because I know you, and I didn’t want to see you blame yourself forever,” Jiang Cheng cut him off, every word bit out with vicious triumph and defeat, all spilling into one another. “ I didn’t want to see you like this .”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to argue, and not a word came out. The familiarity of those words rang like an incessant bell inside his head. His lips moved without any sound behind them as he tried to find an answer. It was in vain.
“Do you understand, now?” Jiang Cheng shouted. “How does it feel to know someone threw their life away for you? How does it feel to have your will ignored, to have someone you care for break themselves apart for you, selfishly, without giving a fuck about what you want!?” He was screaming, screaming so hard that Wei Wuxian’s own throat felt raw from it. Wei Wuxian could hardly breathe as understanding sank in, relentless, as inevitable as the pull of gravity while falling.
Somewhere along the way, he’d sunk to the floor. He noticed only when Jiang Cheng followed, kneeling before him. His voice had gone hoarse. “How noble of you, Wei Wuxian, to want to spare me the pain. But did you think I wanted to see you waste away? Did you think, for even a single second , that I wanted you at my side more than I needed a core? Did it even occur to you that you were more important to me than one bloody fucking core !?”
Hot, wet tears rolled down Wei Wuxian’s face as all the endless regrets and blame and guilt fell apart from the neat web with him at the centre. The first sob ripped itself out of him like it was taking his life with it. He cried, bent over his knees, as he saw it. Saw every moment he’d decided for others, decided to save them and take the blame. He’d always fled or become a saviour. It had always been easier than asking and finding out he wasn’t what they wanted, than fearing he wasn’t enough.
He shook his head, too breathless from the sobs that wouldn’t stop. When he tried to speak, it came out garbled, indistinguishable from the noises he was making, gasping for air. Leaning on his good arm, Wei Wuxian pushed himself up, looking at Jiang Cheng. He was weeping silently, still as a statue, ramrod straight. Their eyes met, and Jiang Cheng’s were no longer as furious. They were sad, tired, and frustrated.
Once again, Wei Wuxian shook his head, and this time he forced the words to form. “I d-didn’t understand before-” There were things that he would never have talked about with him before. But it felt proper to say it here, now. “I was just so scared, of- of losing you. Of… becoming useless.” Unloved .
Jiang Cheng crumpled, slowly but surely, shaking as the weight of the days and years nearly bent him double. Wei Wuxian had to swallow again to keep going. “I’m sorry it took me this long to understand. A-Xian is so sorry, A-Cheng.” Crawling closer, he urged Jiang Cheng to look up. He reached out, slowly so he could pull away if he wanted to. But Jiang Cheng stayed, waited for Wei Wuxian’s palm to rest against his face, allowed him to brush away a few tears.
The hours and days of agony he’d lived through as his core was cut out still haunted his nightmares. He’d nearly broken Wen Ning’s hand by clutching it crushingly hard throughout, and still, it had hurt. Wen Qing would’ve been as gentle as possible, and still, it had hurt so much. How much worse would it have been to have it mangled and burnt away, amidst the ruins of their home, without a single person to keep him company through it?
Wei Wuxian hung his head, and a feeble sound escaped him. “Why…”
Jiang Cheng let out a wet laugh, sniffling. “You were always better, the one who could’ve fixed everything, with or without me. I didn’t think I could have survived without you, let alone fixed anything.” He looked away, voice dwindling. Wei Wuxian could tell that he was preparing to say something rare, something that came from his heart. “I did it because you are my shixiong, my brother. I would rather die than lose you anyday."
With another garbled sob, Wei Wuxian let himself believe the words.
Suddenly, with a sharp breath, Jiang Cheng pushed him back. Fear fluttered in Wei Wuxian's heart as he fixed him with a determined glare. "Listen to me, Wei Wuxian.” He waited, only for Jiang Cheng to shake him, though gently enough to not hurt the wounded arm. “Are you listening?”
He nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Good.” Jiang Cheng lowered his head. “I’m sorry. Just,” - he tilted his head in a plea, and Wei Wuxian held back the objections sitting on the tip of his tongue - “Just let me say this. I’m sorry for letting you think it was all your fault. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell us the truth.”
No no no no . Wei Wuxian leaned closer, shaking his head, but his brother was relentless though his voice was shaking from trying not to cry. “I need you to know that I never meant to kill you, or- or force you to let go. Even if you had lost control, that day. I didn’t know- I couldn’t do it, I could never do it.”
“It wasn’t your fault, you idiot,” Wei Wuxian told him. “I don’t blame you.”
Jiang Cheng scoffed, shoving at his shoulder half-heartedly. “Of course you don’t, you prick. But it’s too late for blame, for right and wrong. I just mean that I wish… I wish it had been different.”
In answer, Wei Wuxian abandoned all restraint and nearly bowled him over with a hug.
Jiang Cheng froze for a moment before shoving at his shoulder - the one that wasn’t injured, of course. “What were you just saying? ‘ Stop worrying ’, ‘ let’s pretend we don’t care anymore, it’s not good for us ’. Isn’t that what you were saying? What’s all this then, huh!?” Despite all the halfhearted pushing and angry, teary scolding, Wei Wuxian held on. Even the heavens couldn’t make him leave this time.
When Jiang Cheng finally gave up and resigned himself to the hug, Wei Wuxian looked at him, and almost laughed at how bad he still was at hiding hope behind his scowls. “Your stupid debt is just bullshit,” Jiang Cheng spat out, stubbornly trying to stay mad even as his voice grew heavy with the hint of tears. “Your home is your home. And if you miss it, you can come back anytime you want. Understand!?”
“Understood,” he said into his brother’s shoulder, tightening his arm around his shoulders. Oh, what he would give for his other arm to heal miraculously so he could hold him better. A moment later, for the first time in too long, Wei Wuxian felt Jiang Cheng’s arms wrap around him and hold him tight, face hidden in Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. It felt different, somehow, but it still felt like belonging. It still had echoes of the hug that had snapped him back to reality, that had convinced him to fight and live after clawing out of the Burial Mounds. Nobody else in the world could hug like his brother could.
“I may not come back right away,” Wei Wuxian confessed, half-afraid. “I may never come back for good. I need to learn how to live a new life, A-Cheng.”
Jiang Cheng stiffened in his arms. For a few terrible moments, he said nothing. Then, “Of course you do. Idiot.” Wei Wuxian felt a smile spread across his face at the fond address. “But if you’re nearby and break any bones, you better come to get it fixed. You can’t do first-aid for shit.”
“Not even death can change that, haha,” Wei Wuxian answered, and immediately felt him go still. Apparently jokes about dying were off the table. Even ones about falling off cliffs, probably-
Jiang Cheng let out a noise between a groan and a wheeze, and Wei Wuxian drew back in a panic. Please don’t be crying, please don’t be-
Jiang Cheng was cringing. It had, in fact, been a noise of abject annoyance. Pointing a finger so close to his face that Wei Wuxian had to go cross-eyed to see it, he said, “That was so stupidly bad, it wasn’t even a joke.”
The bubbly, light warmth threatened to explode his heart as he grabbed the finger, pushing it down. “Oh really? Really?” Wei Wuxian shot back.
Jiang Cheng struggled, but without any spiritual energy behind it, finally tugging his finger away. “Shut up.”
Then, weirdly enough, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out something that crinkled.
“Is that candy?” Wei Wuxian asked, grabbing reflexively as Jiang Cheng flung it at his chest.
“A-Jie always slipped us some after that ,” he replied, pointing at the now empty bowl. The ache that had started to become a part of his heart throbbed at the memory. Though the bitterness had faded to a more bearable amount, Wei Wuxian unwrapped it noisily (it still made Jiang Cheng scrunch his nose judgily, ha!) and popped it in.
“So she did.” He tucked the sweet against a cheek, searching Jiang Cheng’s far-way look. “Do you think she would’ve been proud of us? For finally making up without her?”
Jiang Cheng sighed before shuffling closer to the wall and leaning back against it, folding his knees up and crossing his hands over them. He looked so small like that. Wei Wuxian sat beside him, putting his head on his knees and watching Jiang Cheng for an answer.
“I’ve asked myself that so many times,” he said slowly. “‘What would A-Jie do?’ Sometimes I knew, sometimes I didn’t.” A frown creased his brow. “After a while, though… After a few years, even when I looked at something, wondered what she would do, and knew the answer, it just… I saw that...”
“What?” Wei Wuxian asked softly, not wanting to break the calm.
“That she was so young .” He turned to Wei Wuxian. “The older I grew, the more I saw it. She wasn’t older than us by much. Didn’t she seem the wisest, faultless, the strongest? The one with the heart to understand and forgive all? Like she would fix it all, if we just managed to stay together.” He hung his head, shaking it slowly. “I understood only when I had to be that for A-Ling. She must’ve been as scared, as lost as we were.”
The weight of grief had become such a permanent fixture these past few months, Wei Wuxian didn’t realise he could cry over it anymore. He’d run from it so long…of course it would catch up to him eventually. He was too tired to run anymore, to hide it behind cheerful lies. Sliding closer, Wei Wuxian leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder and admitted it, to the only person in the world who would understand. “I miss her. So much, so often.”
A few seconds later, he felt Jiang Cheng lean his cheek against the top of his head. “I know.”
“Does it get easier with time?”
There was no answer, nothing except Jiang Cheng shifting closer. They leaned into each other’s side and held hands like they hadn’t since they were ten and one of them had to comfort the other after a nightmare. They sat on the floor of a corner room in Jinlintai and cried. For each other, for themselves, for a sister who had been too young, and a life that had thrown too much at them. Maybe… it would get easier, now that they were together.
With the dark clouds outside that added to the overall gloom and blocked out all sunlight, there was no way to tell how long they sat there. Jiang Cheng’s grumbling came from above him, after a long, long while. “You’re getting your snot all over my robes.”
Wei Wuxian sniffled, grumbling back, “I can feel you crying into my hair, shut up.”
Jiang Cheng started shoving him off, ignoring his complaints.
Miraculously, it seemed that his world had started putting itself back together. Finally.
~~~
“A-Cheng, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian called, making grabby motions at the pot of chicken across the table.
“You’re going to eat the entire thing or what,” Jiujiu groused, passing it to him nonetheless. “Leave some for your nephew at least. Shameless.”
Looking slightly sheepish, Wei Wuxian asked Jin Ling. “Aiyah, sorry. Do you want more?”
It was all Jin Ling could do to shake his head. His appetite had succumbed to utter bewilderment. He watched as Wei Wuxian - Dajiu? If Jiujiu’s calling me his nephew, should I be calling him Dajiu!? his brain hysterically supplied - beamed in genuine and absolute joy and started devouring it all.
Jin Ling wasn’t sure what was up, but something definitely was. They had emerged after hours from that room of Wei Wuxian’s just in time to have dinner with him, both of them with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. As if that wasn’t strange and worrying enough, Wei Wuxian seemed to somehow have gotten even more cheerful about absolutely everything.
And as if that too wasn’t crazy enough, he and Jiujiu had started talking to each other. It was more like a quarrel. A constant cycle of one bullying or annoying the other while the other complained or scolded back. Jin Ling had gotten a grand total of three precious minutes to ask Jiujiu for advice on how to deal with the embezzlers, and then they were back at it. They actually wouldn’t shut up.
He couldn’t suffer like this anymore. Gathering his courage, Jin Ling asked hesitantly, “Did you both fight or something?”
Jiujiu stopped mid-scold and frowned at him. “None of your business. You have better things to worry about,”
“Aiyah,” Wei Wuxian said through a mouthful of rice. “A-Cheng, he just cares about us. And if you eat while looking sour as a lemon, you’ll get acidity. Be nice.”
Rolling his eyes, he griped, “This is the last time I’m eating at the same table as you.”
Unbothered, Wei Wuxian waved his chopsticks. “Big words, big words.”
Suddenly, something clicked in Jin Ling’s mind. “Did you tell him?” he asked Jiujiu. “Whatever you wanted to tell him that day. You told him, didn’t you?”
Jiujiu blinked, all frowns and glares vanishing for a moment in surprise. It was rather gratifying. Did he really think Jin Ling would forget? He was too slow, Jin Ling understood the answer by the time he managed to look away disdainfully. “I told you that day itself, it was nothing, you brat.”
Unconvinced, Jin Ling let it slide for now.
With a pout that was apparently specially engineered to get on Jiujiu’s nerves, Wei Wuxian pointed his chopsticks at him. “I don’t know what you both are talking about, but I need to catch up on sixteen years of annoying you, Shidi! We shall eat together every day we’re within a five li radius of each other. Be a good brother and listen to your elder.”
“You were dead for over a decade. Pretty sure I’m the older one now.”
Wei Wuxian paled. “ No.” He shook his head vigorously, shuddering worse than he had with that yaoguai looming over them. “Just. No.”
Jin Ling stared between them. “Did you just- make a joke about him dying?” he weakly asked Jiujiu.
With a perfectly straight face, Jiujiu looked him right in the eye in a deadpan stare and said, “Yes.”
It launched Wei Wuxian into peals of laughter. “No one believes me when I tell them you and Lan Zhan have a similar sense of humour.” He wheezed harder at the promise of bloody murder in the look Jiujiu shot him in return.
“Pretty sure Lan Wangji would swear to be my best friend forever - die, that is, - before joking about you dying,” Jiujiu pointed out. A second later, a faraway, calculating look appeared in his eyes. Jin Ling wondered if they were a danger to each other. And to those around them. This called for advice from someone who had experience with their brand of bizarre.
He needed to write Nie Huaisang a letter.