Chapter Text
Wei Ying had known since his rebirth that he wouldn’t live as long as Lan Zhan. When he was younger the thought had been like an itch in the back of his mind, something to worry about at a much later date. However, as years passed by, he started aging, while Lan Zhan had remained a young and beautiful man, not looking a day over 30. The thought had gotten startlingly clearer and clearer, until finally it was just too blatant to ignore.
Of course, they could no longer continue their promise of “everyday means everyday” due to Wei Ying’s lack of stamina. Lan Zhan had also expressed concern in Wei Ying’s insistence to continue night hunting, but Wei Ying had just waved him away, cheerfully explaining that he wanted to live his last years to the fullest. Lan Zhan had frowned harder, but didn’t press the issue.
Eventually, he lived to the old age of 70. All the recklessness of his youth had finally caught up and Wei Ying’s once smooth and handsome face had become one of a haggard old man. However, his bright eyes were still full of youth and energy and were almost alarming on his aged face.
It was with those shining eyes that he looked at his beloved from his lying position on their bed. As he gazed at that youthful face, the pleasant memories of their time together resurfaced all at once and he felt a pleasant warmth creeping up on him, starting at his chest and spreading slowly outward. The first time Lan Zhan had gotten drunk and how Wei Ying had been dragged around in a flurry of confusion. The reaction on Lan Zhan’s face when he told him getting stabbed was a regular experience. The feeling of pure excitement when he finally realized Lan Zhan’s feelings for him and his feelings for Lan Zhan. Memories of the stupid things he had done as a youth, uncaring about the future, flooded in. He vaguely wished he hadn’t treated stab wounds so casually now.
He tried to chuckle and failed, instead falling into a fit of coughs. Lan Zhan’s forehead creased with worry. Wei Ying looked up at his lover and gently smiled, silently counting the few wrinkles that had formed after 70 years, ones that even cultivating to immortality couldn't hide. The ones that formed under Lan Zhan’s eyes and smile lines—that had only started to form after their marriage—were light and few in between but still unmistakably present. The thought of their blissful marriage made the slight smile on Wei Ying’s face grow into a full blown grin.
Wei Ying looked fixedly at his husband's beautiful face and idly wondered for the hundredth time how he could have ended up with such a loyal and handsome man. Thinking of his current appearance, he couldn't help but let out a breath of laughter.
“Look at me now, I look worse than Lan Qiren ever did,” he jokes lightly. “I wouldn't even hold it against you at all if you said you didn't love me anymore.” Lan Zhan jerked suddenly at the sound of his weak voice and leaned closer to the bed, grasping Wei Ying's wrinkled hands in his own.
"No, I’ll never stop loving you,” he declared firmly. Wei Ying felt his neck heat up and his face blush. He would've looked cute if he was still young but now, he probably looked like what he was, a sick old man.
“I know, Lan Zhan,” he murmured softly. “But I know I’ll be dying soon. Everytime I feel my joints and bones ache, or see my old wounds reopen, I know I'm nearing my end.” He looked up at Lan Zhan’s worried face, the mixture of concern, love, and sadness on his expression was heartbreaking. Wei Ying smiled, the type of smile that lit up his entire face and gave the illusion of his age melting away to reveal the charming grin of a young man. Lan Zhan clearly couldn't take hearing his words, his unusual rock hard composure cracking, fear and panic slipping through.
“No, you can't die yet, not again. Please, not in front of me again. You’ll be alright, I promise,” Lan Zhan managed to gasp out. Then, in front of Wei Ying’s shocked eyes, tears started to form in Lan Zhan’s desperate eyes and stream down his face. The sight of his beloved crying and pleading at his bedside broke Wei Ying’s heart further.
Wei Ying gaped in silent astonishment as Lan Zhan slowly broke down in front of him, tears coming down in streams now, Lan Zhan’s body shaking as he sobbed, bending his forehead to rest on their clasped hands. He had never seen Lan Zhan cry like this before, gasping for air and choking on his own sobs. He hadn’t cried like this when his mother died, not when the sect got burned down and not even the first time Wei Ying died. Wei Ying hurriedly shook himself from his speechless daze.
"It's alright. It's alright. It’ll be okay," he repeated helplessly, unsure of what to do to ease Lan Zhan’s tears.
Wei Ying detangled his hand from Lan Zhan’s tight grip and reached out to gently pull his tear stained face up and out of the now soaked sheets. He couldn’t stand the sight of his lover crying so hard, especially over him.
"It’s okay Lan Zhan, I’ve lived my life happily with you by my side,” he said, smiling gently at his sobbing mess of a husband. He detangled his other hand and hoisted himself up to a sitting position. He was struggling slightly and Lan Zhan hurriedly stood up to help him up and adjust the pillows. After he was settled, he gestured Lan Zhan back down, then reached out to gently clasp Lan Zhan’s chin toward him. He softly kissed his lips, a short chaste kiss, and leaned back to look him directly in the eyes.
“I love you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said earnestly. Lan Zhan nodded, transfixed on his solemn eyes. His tears came to a sudden stop and left behind a raw face still wet from crying. Satisfied, Wei Ying slowly leaned back into the soft pile of pillows behind him. Wei Ying closed his eyes for what he knew would be the last time, knowing he’ll finally truly rest peacefully for the first time in his two lives. A final, silent tear dropped down his wrinkled cheek.
“Goodbye, my love.”