Chapter Text
The war had been going badly. Despite the Jiang sect’s surging numbers, despite the Lan sect’s painful rebuilding, despite the Nie sect’s fierceness and the Jin sect’s coffers, the war had been going badly.
It had been six months since Wei Wuxian had disappeared. Four months since Lan Wangji had formed an unlikely partnership with Jiang Wanyin and the two of them set off to look for him in between battles and forging alliances.
It had been three months since a new figure made itself known on the battlefield. A figure that wreathed itself in shadows and called itself the Yiling Laozu. The Yiling Laozu opened his arms to all, beckoning them into the only safe crevice in a world torn apart by war and burrowing into Yiling with an ever-growing mass of refugees.
The Yiling Laozu was strong. Despite having never left Yiling, the figure had built notoriety not in his actions but in his method of cultivation: demonic.
It was an unorthodox path, it reminded Lan Wangji of a bright smile and an inquisitive mind, and it was their last hope of winning the war.
That was why when the Yiling Laozu finally responded to pleas for help with an invitation to host all sect leaders and their heirs in the burial mounds for a single conference, not a single sect had refused. Even Jin Guangshan had caved either to the desperation of the other sects or the selfish desire to see the Yiling Laozu in person.
That was why Lan Wangji now dressed for the conference, tying his hair up neatly into his jade guan in a time that felt like the small quiet before a roaring storm. Once he stepped outside of the refuge that was his single tent in a sea of war camps, Lan Wangji would once again be accosted by the tumultuous preparations for battle. He faced himself in the small handheld mirror, almost feminine in its design. It had been a gift for him by Wei Wuxian, who likely meant it as a joke about his reputed beauty, but Lan Wangji had treasured it all the same.
His face appeared strange even to himself. It had been a long time since he had stopped to indulge himself in something like beauty. Longer still since he allowed himself rest and care, he did not deserve it while Wei Ying was still missing.
Staring into his hollow face and tired eyes, Lan Wangji allowed himself to imagine the upcoming conference. The Yiling Laozu's appearance was a mystery. Some claimed he was beautiful and deadly, bearing raven dark locks, red eyes, and an arrogant countenance. Others swore the Yiling Laozu was horrifying, body convoluted and broken, barely passing as human.
It did not matter to Lan Wangji. To him, the worth of the Yiling Laozu resided solely in his ability to win the war, provide a sanctuary for refugees, and - if he played his cards right- use his method of cultivation to help Lan Wangji find Wei Wuxian.
He rehearsed his speech in his head. Lan Wangji never was one for long words, preferring to keep his sentences concise and eloquent. But today Lan Wangji would try. He had to try.
The parting of tent curtains signaled the arrival of Lan Xichen, the only one who was able to come and go through his tent without announcing his arrival.
“Wangji,” Xichen speaks “are you ready?”
“Mn” he gives a one-word reply.
Lan Xichen gives him a curt nod and moves to idly adjust the sleeve of his robes. “We should get going then.”
“Mn”
The path to Yiling from where the Lan branch of the army is stationed in Yunmeng is more pleasant than Lan Wangji had expected. Since the Yiling Laozu had requested no other than sect leaders and their heir’s attendance, they had chosen to fly, unburdened by heavy supplies and an entourage.
The town of Yiling itself was thriving in a way that Lan Wangji had forgotten could exist. Children were still playing on the streets here, unburdened by war and death. The streets were lively as they flew past overhead. Eyes drew to them like magnets and fingers pointed at the odd combination of cultivators that flew past, a mottled streak of colors.
The Yiling Laozu had not given them enough time to plan a more subtle route. The only path that would help them reach their destination on time was flying directly over Yiling itself, advertising their arrival to anyone with eyes. Lan Wangji had long since gotten used to being stared at and ignored the looks and fingers, adjusting his stance on Bichen to be more comfortable as he flew.
They passed their time in silence in the air, and Lan Wangji allowed the meditative feeling of wind blowing in his ears and through his hair ground him as they approached the wards that guarded the burial mounds.
Far in the distance and cloaked in a shimmering red veil, the fortress of burial mounds seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the setting sun. It wasn’t until they had come much closer to the structure that Lan Wangji realized the red veil with entwining black smoke wasn’t a veil at all - it was a ward that surrounded the area.
The most powerful wards were known for their discreteness and subtlety. Yet this glaring mass of red and black advertised itself and its owner: here was a place not even the gods dared trespass.
Flying the rest of the way there felt at once like an instant and an eternity, in the strange way time seemed to slow and speed when waiting for something. Dismounting on surprisingly steady feet, Lan Wangji waits as the delegated head of the party - Nie Mingjue withdraws the black invitation from his robes and presents it to the wards. Lan Wangji feels a bit skeptical about just pushing the piece of paper into the wards, but resentful energy was something unfamiliar to everyone and it wasn’t like anyone had a better idea - no one wanted to just step through wards that radiated such a menacing aura.
Lan Wangji is surprised to find that the tactic works. The wards shimmer once, the red lightening for a brief moment before returning to its normal color, and Nie Mingjue pushes brazenly ahead. One by one, the rest of the sect leaders and heirs follow suit and Lan Wangji follows with them.
When it’s at last his turn to step through the wards, Lan Wangji feels it everywhere. The resentful energy is different than he expected. Instead of an oppressive and heavy weight to tread through or a curtain to brush past and enter, teasing bits of shadow and playful resentment reached out to him. Tendrils of darkness trail past his fingers, past his hair, and tease the hem of his skirts. More resentful energy toys with the sash wrapped around his waist and others skim the exposed skin of his wrists and ankles.
It is a relief to finally step through the wards, but the experience leaves him feeling disoriented and tingly afterward. Lan Wangji tilts his head, discreetly looking to see if anyone else was affected by the resentful energy as he was. They did not appear so. Lan Wangji does his best to appear normal, schooling his features back to neutrality and readjusting his robes.
“Wangji, is everything all right?” Xichen calls from behind him, having just stepped through the barrier himself.
“Yes, brother.” He replies mechanically.
Setting the matter behind him, Lan Wangji moves to rejoin the rest of the party. The others had already begun to walk the dusty trail that leads up to the burial mounds, hidden from sight behind mountainous walls that acted as a natural barrier against intruders. While walking, he feels the spiritual energy of another envelop his own barrier against resentful energy and spares a sigh at his brother’s protectiveness, extending more of his own energy to cover Lan Xichen as well.
Once they crest the uphill path, the fortress of burial mounds sprawls out before them, a black castle-like structure that extends as far as the eye can see. How the Yiling Laozu had managed to turn nothing into this was beyond Lan Wangji, he must be powerful indeed.
They are given no time to take in the grand view. The moment the last of their party emerges from behind the wards, a shadowed servant materializes forward, looking almost entirely human except for the black smoke emanating from its figure.
When he opens his mouth to speak, the servant reveals a startlingly normal voice “the Yiling Laozu awaits you in the hall, please enter.”
The servant offers no other words, only turning on his heel and leading the way towards the entrance of the castle, past a lush garden of on-theme black and red roses that decorated the front courtyard.
Their group of cultivators follow in a daze, eyes wide and wandering to make the most of their first and likely last time in the burial mounds.
Lan Wangji walks side by side with Lan Xichen, passing through another ward and entering the fortress. Although Lan Wangji has the foresight to brace himself this time, there was no strange reaction, the wards felt like nothing as he passed through them. He tries not to feel oddly disappointed by this fact.
Black iron gates open on their own as the group makes their way further inward, this time into a hallway that widens out into a throne room as they step inside.
The first thing Lan Wangji notices as he steps inside is the smell of liquor and spices. He resists the urge to wrinkle his nose at the overwhelming smell.
Lan Wangji takes another step into the throne room and comes to a standstill when the sight of a man perched on a twisting black throne enters his field of view. In that moment, Lan Wangji feels his heart stop. Then start again.
The man is beautiful. So very beautiful with his hair let loose around his shoulders and hooded, dark eyes that glimmered in the flickering firelight of the room. His robes are parted at the chest to reveal muscle and pale skin. When the man parts his cherry red lips to speak and lifts a hand up to adjust the silver mask adorning the upper half of his face, Lan Wangji is entranced.
Lan Wangji understands at once that all of the rumors he has heard about the Yiling Laozu are mistaken. None of them can do the man seated before him any justice, not even the ones that spoke of his beauty and seductiveness.
He is so distracted watching the pretty man part and lick his lips that Lan Wangji is almost startled when the Yiling Laozu speaks, his voice deep and dancing with amusement. “Ah, what a rather pitiful collection of cultivators before me. Do you know how annoying it was to go around cleaning your messes only to have you beg for my help when you big boys can’t solve your own problems? War refugees from across the sects, cultivators and civilians alike. What am I supposed to do with all of them?” he scolds.
“Seriously,” the Laozu continues, “if you guys are really going to go out starting wars, shouldn’t you be able to finish them? Or at the very least keep other people out of it. It’s only polite.”
He pauses here. The Yiling Laozu lets his eyes wander lazily over Lan Wangji’s group. From where he is now, Lan Wangji is more than half hidden from view by Lan Xichen, who has apparently taken it upon himself to be Lan Wangji’s personal bodyguard during their time in Yiling.
Lan Xichen moves further forward to speak, ever the peacekeeper “Laozu, we apologize for the disturbance the sunshot campaign is causing, however-”
Lan Xichen is cut off as the Yiling Laozu begins to speak once more “Yes, yes, let’s all skip the pleasantries now and cut right to the point. I’m afraid I'm allergic to excessive politeness. I know why you’re here. I can help you with your little Wen problem,” he pauses for dramatic effect “but how can you help me?”
This time it is Meng Yao that cuts forward to speak, “This humble one is more than willing to help negotiate appropriate compensation for Laozu’s aid. We are willing to provide whatever is necessary in terms of gold, weapons, and land. We just want to free the people from Wen tyranny”
Lan Wangji is having slight difficulties paying attention here, Lan Xichen has stepped completely in front of him, placing himself as a human shield between the Yiling Laozu and himself when Lan Wangji is more than capable of handling the situation.
He comes back to the conversation when the Yiling Laozu begins to speak again. “Aiyaa, since when did you have enough money to afford my price? I don’t come cheap. But don’t worry, don’t worry! I’m nothing if not fair.” His voice then drops down to a whisper, as if he is sharing a precious secret “How about instead of gold or riches, you offer me a pretty young lady to come warm my bed…” he snickers to himself.
It is here that Lan Wangji steps out past his brother’s shadow, feeling outraged at what the Yiling Laozu is requesting. His help in the war could help save countless lives and all he cares about is having a bed warmer? The moment Lan Wangji steps out, however, he finds dark eyes on him.
Interest apparently piqued, the Yiling Laozu seems to straighten from where he is slouched inelegantly. “I’ve changed my mind. I absolutely don’t need a woman. I want that one to marry me, and then you’ve got yourselves a deal.” He points a finger at Lan Wangji, and the rings adorning his slender fingers gleam in the firelight.
Lan Wangji bursts. “People are not commodities. Is it not enough to save the lives of others? It is not righteous to ask for compensation.”
The Yiling Laozu breaks out into laughter at the end of his outburst. Lan Wangji had meant to keep his mouth shut and be good until he could ask about Wei Wuxian, he didn’t know where this lack of restraint was coming from. Before he can continue, the Yiling Laozu speaks up. “Ooh what a pretty little thing,” he coos.
Lan Wangji stiffens at his words. The Yiling Patriarch seems to sense some of his unease and adopts a more serious tone, hardening his expression and voice.
“There is nothing I want for here in Yiling that I cannot obtain myself. Consider this a generous trade. One man for an army of the undead.” He makes eye contact with Lan Wangji before he resumes speaking “Or are you too proud to offer yourself up to save countless lives?”
Lan Wangji fights off a flinch as his own words are flung back at him. Of course he would be willing to trade himself for the lives of others. But he has Wei Wuxian.
Even if Wei Ying would never look at him in the way Lan Wangji spent his whole life watching him, he couldn’t betray him like that. But the Yiling Laozu was right. It was more than worth it to trade himself for the cause, he had seen too many die before his very eyes to risk rejecting this proposal. Lan disciples that were his responsibility to protect, innocents who had no business being caught up in a war between cultivation sects.
Lan Wangji opens his mouth to accept the proposal- and is cut off by his brother’s resounding voice “No”.
When Lan Xichen speaks, his voice has lost all of its pleasantness. “Ask any other price, Wangji is not for sale.”
“Wangji,” the Yiling Laozu rolls his name in his mouth, tonguing over the syllables. His voice hardens once more “there will be no other negotiation. I have named my price now. Take it or leave.”
His sentence is punctuated by a flare of resentful energy - a reminder of whose territory they were currently in, of who, despite being outnumbered, held the real position of authority in this room.
Lan Wangji steels himself for his next words “I accept your terms.”
His brother’s scolding voice rings out “Wangji, no.”
It is Meng Yao who then steps in to defend his decision before Lan Wangji himself can. “Er ge, I understand that this isn’t fair to Wangji and that-”
“No” Lan Xichen bites out. “If the Yiling Patriarch wishes to take a bride, he can take me instead. Surely a sect leader would be of more worth to you.” He directs the last part of the sentence back to the Yiling Patriarch.
“Why would I settle for someone who doesn’t suit my tastes when there’s a beauty standing next to him? I’ve already made my position clear. If you can’t accept my terms, I’ll have Wen Ning throw you out,” he replies, smiling cruelly.
The rest of the sect leaders jump at this statement. It had already taken this long just to gain an audience with the Yiling Patriarch, there was no mistaking that he was their last chance at ending the war with minimal further casualties.
Nie Mingjue speaks next, “Xichen, Wangji understands how important it is to succeed here. He is grown enough to make his own decision.”
Another sect leader steps forward to speak up, but Lan Wangji has stopped listening. He locks eyes with his brother instead, letting the part of him that burned at Wei Ying’s loss, at the burning of Cloud Recesses and the destruction of Lotus Pier rise up in answer to his brother’s searching look.
Lan Xichen lets out a defeated sigh and says “alright”.
“There there, that wasn’t so hard now was it? I promise I’m not unreasonable, I’ll take care of your little problem before I ask you to fulfill your end of the bargain. Who knows, after all, maybe the Yiling Patriarch and Wen Ruohan will take each other out and the world will be rid of two evils at once.” The Yiling Laozu lets out a little chuckle at this statement.
“Not evil,” Lan Wangji finds himself speaking up before he can stop himself.
The Yiling Patriarch offers him another smile, this time a genuine one that reminds him so much of Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji is afraid he’ll die from the longing and pain that has curled itself up in his chest.
When the Yiling Laozu speaks again, his voice is much more gentle “It is settled then. Come a fortnight, Wen Ruohan shall be no longer. And once 3 months has passed since the destruction of the Wen sect, I shall come to collect my bride. We can work out details later.”
The room is dismissed quickly as sect leaders and heirs scurry away from the Yiling Laozu. Some chose to linger, hoping to gain a private audience… until a cold voice cuts across the room “get out,” and the last few cultivators trickle away.
Lan Xichen turns to him in the dwindling room “Wangji, do not worry. You can leave now, I will handle this.”
He had been wondering why his brother had accepted the proposal so easily. “I know my duty, there is no need to handle this. I have already accepted.”
“It’s not fai-”
“You two. What part of scram is difficult to understand? I suppose it’s fine, I did have something else to say to the little one as well,” the Yiling Laozu speaks.
“I am not little. We look the same age,” Lan Wangji fixed his eyes on the throne in front of him.
A delighted smile spreads across the Yiling Laozu’s face. “Are we? Come here then.”
Lan Wangji steps forward- and is cut off by Lan Xichen. “I am sure there is more to negotiate here.”
“There isn’t.” The Yiling Laozu replies flatly. “The only reason I haven’t thrown you out yet is because you’re going to be my brother-in-law! How exciting.” He narrows his eyes then. “Trust me when I say that the only thing that will happen here if you decide to ‘further negotiate’ with me is I will ask more of you or I will call off our bargain. Now leave before you regret it.”
Lan Xichen grits his teeth and takes a breath to continue speaking. The Yiling Laozu snaps his fingers then, and a swarm of darkness envelops him. Once the darkness dissipates, Lan Wangji’s brother is no longer there and the two of them are alone.
Lan Wangji is startled, but the Yiling Laozu speaks before he is able to. “Don’t worry, I only sent him to join the rest of your group.” His voice has resumed the playful tone he had donned at the beginning of their confrontation.
His voice turns serious again. “I want to be honest with you here. I don’t need I didn’t mean to make my asking price serious, but then again, I suppose it is impossible to resist you.”
The Yiling Patriarch then reaches up into his hair and withdraws a red ribbon, spilling more dark hair into his eyes as it springs loose from the ribbon’s constraints. He steps forward. He’s close now. Too close.
Lan Wangji moves to step back, never one for people in his personal space, but he’s halted by a hand at his hip.
“Be good and stay still.” The Yiling Laozu orders. And Lan Wangji remains still, feeling goosebumps erupt over his arms that he hopes go unnoticed.
Hands reach up to his throat, and the Yiling Laozu grazes cold fingers across his neck before reaching back and tying the red ribbon around it. Lan Wangji keeps eye contact the entire time and refuses to let himself feel anything as it happens.
Once he is satisfied, the Yiling Laozu steps back. “There,” he says “as long as you wear this to battle, you will be protected by this. I can’t have my future husband go dying in war, can I?”
Lan Wangji reaches a hand up to tug at the red collar. It doesn’t budge. The Yiling Patriarch reaches into his robes this time and produces another ribbon, this one smaller and in white than the ribbon currently around Lan Wangji’s throat. “Feel free to give this one to your brother as well, it should afford him some extra armor in battle.”
Lan Wangji accepts the ribbon with a stiff “Thank you.” Then he opens his mouth and says the words that have been on the tip of his tongue since he entered the burial mounds. “I would like to ask the Yiling Laozu for a favor.”
“What favor does my new little wife want?”
“I am not little, nor a girl, nor married to you.”
“Yet!” The Yiling Patriarch corrects. “Well, what can your dear husband do for you, little bunny?”
Lan Wangji hardens his eyes at the new nickname but lets it pass without comment. “I am looking for someone, his name is-”
“So bold to speak of another man in front of your future husband, aren’t you? I’m so hurt.” The Yiling Patriarch pouts then, drawing Lan Wangji’s attention to his full, red lips.
“He is… a friend I have been searching for. He disappeared from his family 3 months ago. I just want to know that he is safe.” Lan Wangji does his best to keep a neutral voice, but some of the strain of his emotions must have leaked into his words because the Yiling Laozu’s face gentles.
“Okay, bunny. I’ll find your friend for you once I’ve finished up my end of our bargain. I’ll send you back to your ge before he starts destroying my palace. We can talk more about it later” He pauses then adds. “And one more thing, if you’re ever in trouble and need to call on me, hold the pretty ribbon on your throat and think of me.” Before Lan Wangji can respond or do anything about it, black smoke envelops him too, and his surroundings change in a dizzy blur until he focuses back to see Lan Xichen watching him. Steadying hands on his shoulders.
“Are you alright?” Lan Xichen asks, worry evident on his face.
“Mn,” is all he can reply.
Lan Xichen’s eyes then narrow. “What’s that around your neck?”
“The Yiling Patriarch said it will protect me in battle, he gave another one for you as well.” Lan Wangji withdraws the white ribbon from where he had tucked it into his sleeve.
“I don’t need it. Don’t worry Wangji, we’ll fix this.”
His brother doesn’t wait to hear his input then and guides him forward with a gentle hand in between his shoulders.
“We booked an inn at Yiling to stay for the night before we head back to the camp. Let’s all enjoy the comforts of a real bed for tonight.”
“Mn.”
Lan Wangji can’t hide the red ribbon from sight without accidentally drawing more attention to it. People stare at him even more as he walks past, their eyes drawn to his neck like he is branded. Perhaps he is.
Their stay in Yiling ends quickly, and Lan Wangji comes to terms with the Yiling Laozu’s bargain. The more he considers it, the more he realizes that this had been a favorable bargain for him. He would still get to find Wei Wuxian and he would still get to see his sect rebuild and his brother safe. It was enough for him.