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If one were to attribute one characteristic to the youngest Twin Jade, it would be stubborn. Most would assume it was cold, uncaring, or just, but those people didn't know Lan Wangji personally. No, those who knew Wangji would see that he was expressive in subtle ways, that he cared deeply and with his whole being, that he was just, but would go against the world for those he believed in.
That was especially so after Wei Wuxian. Losing the man he loved had opened his eyes to just how hypocritical the cultivation world was to those that challenged their beliefs. His one regret was not doing more for Wei Wuxian. So he spent every day after recovering from his punishment playing inquiry for hours at a time, going some night until his fingers bled, hoping to get a response from his zhī jǐ. He never did, and Wangji proceeded to calm himself with the melodies of Wangxian, the composition now filled with longing as he poured his feelings into the strings of his guqin.
Even when Lan Wangji cultivated immortality, completely unnoticed by the rest of the world due to frequently going into closed-door seclusion, he still played for his lost love. Lan Zhan played even after watching Lan Sizhui grow into a man that he knew Wei Ying would be proud of and refuse to cultivate immortality. And even later, when he had to also bury his son in everything but blood, he continued to play for Wei Ying.
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There was not much distinction between being dead and not for Wei Wuxian. There seemed to be little time between then and becoming aware of melodic guqin music. At first, he was unaware of where it was coming from, just aware that it surrounded him like a warm hug even though he was still shrouded in darkness.
This felt distinctly different than before, the guqin's notes skating on the edge of familiarity, yet the demonic cultivator could not place where he heard it. The darkness grew less suffocating and more like he was drifting off with his eyes closed. Wuxian knew instinctively that he was not dead anymore, but that didn't mean he was alive, something in him felt fundamentally different, but he didn't know what.
Slowly, time melded together, and Wei Wuxian fell into a meditative state, lulled into calm by the now familiar tune that stopped and started after curious plucks of the strings. Eventually, though, Wei Wuxian was able to open his eyes. The demonic cultivator assessed his surroundings, noticing that there was a long way up, the sky a mere pinprick above him. Though he now had a better understanding of where he was, despite not knowing exactly where he was, there was still nothing for him to do, his body feeling like lead as his mind grew lethargic. Again Wuxian drifted, surrounded by music.
When he became aware, Wei Wuxian felt better than he had in a very long time. For one, his body was intact; for another, the demonic energy he usually cultivated still flowed through him but felt docile somehow, like it had grown tame. The biggest shock to Wuxian was the wisps of spiritual energy he could also feel drifting through his meridians. When he was alive, he had researched the plausibility of cultivating both spiritual and demonic energies but had yet to finalize his theories when everything went to shit.
Now, it was like a fish tossed back into the water as Wei Wuxian circulated the energies within him, gasping at the feeling of warmth it gave him. There was no cacophony of voices, and as he made his way out of the hole he had been resting in, the music that had always accompanied him began again, bringing a smile to Wuxian's face.
Reaching the surface didn't answer any of the questions that arose and continued to grow the longer he was conscious. He resurfaced in what could only be described as a palace. The floors were stone, and through the open doors, Wuxian could see clouds blanketing the ground and taller mountain peaks off in the distance. The cultivator glanced at the openness of the palace he was in. He was currently in an atrium sparsely furnished with pieces seemingly taken right from Lotus Pier yet colored to match the grand pillars of what looked to be obsidian supporting the roof. The columns streaked through with red reminiscent of the colors he wore or his eyes when he dipped heavily into his demonic path.
Ornate jade carvings decorated the doorways in a cloud motif that reminded Wuxian of Lan Zhan. Exploring further, the male found a bedroom, and sitting innocently in the cream sheets was his beloved Chénqíng. He crossed the room with quick strides, scooping up the instrument and giving it a once over, twirling it between his fingers for a moment before placing it to his lips. The first notes of the melody came out hesitantly, and Wei Wuxian concentrated on getting the notes correctly after so long without playing.
Slowly, he finished the piece and, with a satisfied sigh, placed Chénqíng into his waist sash. Turning, a choked sound left his lips at the sheathed blade sitting in a stand near the door. He didn't notice it when he entered the room, much like he didn't pay much attention to much else now as he picked up Suíbiàn. His hands trembled as they inspected his blade.
Wei Wuxian held his breath as he unsheathed his sword, beaming as it complied with his command. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes as he slipped into sword forms, ignoring that he didn't have enough space for it, just happy that he could wield his first spiritual tool again.
"I see you are acclimating well." The voice startled the demonic cultivator, who turned, leveling Suíbiàn at the intruder.
"I mean you no harm." The boy, who had to be a boy with how small he was, rushed to speak, his hands held in the air.
"Who are you?" Wuxian asked, hesitating to lower his blade.
It was different when he assumed that he was here alone. Now that he knew that wasn't the case, he didn't want to take any chances.
"My name is Mo Xuanyu. I was sent to see how you were handling the transition." The boy, Mo Xuanyu explained, only causing Wuxian to tilt his head in confusion.
"The transition to not being dead?"
"Ah, no. The transition to becoming a God." Wuxian choked on a laugh.
Mo Xuanyu waited, eyes wide in surprise, but his lack of other reaction caused Wuxian to right himself, inspecting the boy in front of him.
"I'm a God ? Are you sure someone didn't make a mistake? How do I just become a God?" Wei Wuxian asked in sheer disbelief, sheathing Suíbiàn, and slipping it next to Chénqíng.
"Prayer. You'll know what to do." With those parting words, Mo Xuanyu scampered away before Wuxian could corner him and asked all the questions he had now that he knew how he was not dead.
He was a God. Someone had been praying to him of all people. He didn't think anything like that was possible, but he had to take Xuanyu's word for it as he had no other explanation. As Wuxian pondered how his life had ended up like this, the lovely guqin music he had come to associate with home began to play. It sounded as if it came from all directions, yet unlike before, Wei Wuxian felt a pull deep within him.
Perhaps this was what Mo Xuanyu meant by he would know, because even though he wanted to investigate, he wasn't sure he could ignore the pull if he wanted to. Wei Wuxian slipped out of the room but stopped on the threshold of leaving the palace. Mountain peaks surrounded him, shrouded in clouds and mist, colored tiles peeking from further below, and large, ostentatious palaces above, all in vibrant patterns and ornately designed.
Before Wei Wuxian could wonder how exactly he was supposed to get down to follow the pull in his chest, a tingling sensation washed over him. When he regained his balance, Wuxian found himself in the back hills of the Cloud Recesses, rabbits hopping merrily around him and in a much larger number than he last remembered. A feeling of nostalgia rushed over him as he watched them play, remembering the day he had given the first two to his Lan Zhan to keep and how the fuddy-duddy had bent the rule of no pets to keep them.
The playing stopped abruptly, and Wei Wuxian's attention was pulled from the rabbits and to the man staring disbelievingly at him from behind his guqin. Tears flooded his eyes, causing Wuxian to rush over after he had gotten over his shock of seeing the one person he regretted not confessing to. How he was sure so much time had passed, yet Lan Zhan didn't look much older than he did the last time they saw each other.
"Ah, Lan Zhan. I should have known it would be you to transcend the realm of possibility to bring me back. I thought it was Yunmeng Jiang that was known for attempting the impossible. Aiyah, where are my manners? Rambling while you've been so earnest in your prayers all this time; shall I reward my most faithful believer with a blessing?" Wuxian asked, cupping the male's face and drinking in every detail, a watery smile pulling at his lips as he tried to lighten the mood.
"Mn. Having Wei Ying is enough."