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There was a time when soulmates were considered sacred. The union of two souls. Written in books and illustrated as art. It was a spiritual path that was believed to be blessed on by the Gods on divine blood. And in Lan Wangji’s time, the divine blood was only the Royal family.
Soulmates, strictly speaking, were limited to the Royal Family of Jiang who ruled most of the Great Empire of China. Lan Wangji had grown up listening to the whispers of the Royal’s children and stolen gazes of ink on their skin. Though it was often followed by the most curious of all questions: “What about Prince Wei? He is not a prince by blood unlike Princess and Prince Jiang!”
Lan Wangji would bite lip then, to prevent bursting out with the rule of “Gossip is forbidden,” and continue to listen. They would say, “I saw the ink! Maybe it’s just the title, after all. Not the blood!”
This would not be tolerated in Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji thinks solemnly as he picks his way through the markets with his brother who looks choses their writing supplies. But he relished in it nonetheless. These pieces of normality he gets stolen from moments when he doesn’t have to be a scholar in training, the second heir to the Lan Clan and best pupil of their Uncle, Grand Master Lan Qiren who was the best teacher in their Kingdom.
“Wangji, are you satisfied with your choices?” Lan Xichen asks and Lan Wangji snaps away from the gossip next stall with a nod. His brother smiles knowingly and he tries not to flush with shame, as the supplies are taken away from him and paid for.
Why should Second Young Master Lan listen to gossip? He was such a proper man, bred into the infamous Lan Clan who was known for their proper conduct instructed through three thousand rules and learned scholars of immense beauty. Why would he indulge in such a unlawful activity of eavesdropping into gossip about the Royal Family?
There is only one explanation and that comes in as a bit of an anecdote:
Lan Wangji was born in the midst of the winter into a clan of scholars. He was brought up with strict discipline and not encouraged to expect a soulmate. He was to be a well versed scholar who would make the Lan Clan proud and he was given sect leader lessons in case something happens to his brother. It was very obvious that no one wanted that fate to fall on them. They were coined Twin Jades. One for the appearance. One for the functioning.
Though Lan Wangji is an exceptional student, he was known for his cold beauty that attracted many but his personality was not…amicable enough for them to stay. He was brutally honest and only followed what was right. Well, there is always a side-effect.
You see, the Lan Clan never had any royal blood mixed into their blood line. Not even the scandalous affair between previous sect leader, the Twin Jade’s father, and his wife, their mother. That was a complicated situation involving seclusions and cottages in between fields of gentians. Messy, really.
When Lan Wangji’s fifteenth birthday rolled into the wintery morning, their world started to tilt a bit off its axis. As the brothers breakfasted, Lan Wangji felt the strange tingles down his arm and he froze. Lan Xichen, astute in the verse of his brother, noticed and asked what the matter was with great concern.
Not choosing to answer, Lan Wangji instead lifted his sleeves over his elbow and gazed at the marks on his forearm with increasing perplexity. Tracing fingers over what seemed like ink only increased his confusion; his fingers did not have the tell-tale smudges of charcoal. At the least the possibility of sleep-walking was ruled out.
Lan Xichen gasped, “Wangji! Are those—”
Words registered in his mind and Lan Wangji wanted to throw up. on his arm was traced the characters: My name is Wei Wuxian. Your soulmate.
“Wei Wuxian? The Prince?” Lan Wangji swallowed and covered his skin. “Brother. We can’t let Uncle know.”
“Why not?” Lan Xichen extended a hand to be put over his forearm. A gesture that thawed the ice around his heart just a bit. Mostly, he was numb. He would have the time to scream and cry when he will have the chance to but now, he would be dazed.
“He will scorn Mother. And—” Lan Wangji breathes. “—I need time to process.”
Softening, Lan Xichen smiles and pours them more tea. “I will not tell him. You can when you find the right time.”
Lan Wangji nods. Grateful for his brother once more. He ignores the tingling in his arm, does not tell his brother that there are more messages forming on his skin. They go about breakfast. His brother talks to him about a case of restless spirits in the town. Lan Wangji promises to go there for a check. They plan to visit Uncle for lunch and study together in the library afterwards. It is just another normal day.
At least, that’s what Lan Wangji tells himself until his brother leaves for his Sect Leader duties and there is enough privacy to uncover his forearm once again. The ink has sprawled in messy calligraphy from his wrist to the crook of his elbow.
It says: My name is Wei Wuxian. Your soulmate. I hope to meet you soon.
And in a bit more frantic pace: Please don’t tell me you do not exist? I was told that I will have one from Baoshan Sanren when I was born! Are you dead? Oh God, you must be, right?
Lan Wangji felt guilty. He knew that he was not supposed to do any actions without consulting his family first. There is no elder to guide him. Moreover, this was Prince Wei they were talking about! Ward of their King! Surely, if Lan Wangji was careless with his actions, his entire clan would be destroyed?
Yes, surely. Then why in God’s name was his hands drifting over to the writing set on his table? The next moment he knew, the feathery, ticklish feel of the brush drawing strokes against his skin alerted of just what he was doing. Just as he yanked his arm back, a streak of ink slashed across his chest, tainting his robes. The brush brushed against his cheek and he realised: the prince has an ink mark against his cheeks now. Visible to the public.
In a fit of panic, Lan Wangji rushed off to the bathroom and dunked a cloth into the basin of water kept for washing. Rubbing furiously at the Ink, he was glad that it was still fresh and came off well. But if one squinted, he was sure there would still be some marks of it. Sighing, Lan Wangji strops off his outer robe and puts it in the basin for a soak; he’ll wash it later.
As he steps out of the bathroom to retrieve a fresh set of outer robes, his arm tingles with the already-familiar touch of his soulmate’s writing. With dawning horror, Lan Wangji realised that he had dug his own grave with over-eager hands. If his uncle were to know of this, he would be so disappointed. The best disciple of Gusu Lan, disgracing his family because he humiliated Price Wei and his own soulmate. Unworthy. Cold. Disgraceful.
Sighing at the thoughts, Lan Wangji clenches his jaws before he walks back inside the bathroom and continues to scrub away the ink on his arm. He watches as the words he wrote to console his soulmate washes into murky water and as the response sits ignored and somehow expectant.
No. I am alive.
You answered! I want to see you soon, soulmate!
As stories went, they never met.
Lan Wangji grew up to sixteen by ignoring the messages on his arms and sometimes his thighs. Humiliating as it was, he had grown to expect it. When there were days where he did not get a message, Lan Wangji would allow himself to let go of his control and let an accidental splotch of ink mar his fingers or wrists. Wei Wuxian would answer then, peppy as always.
Unlike him, Wei Wuxian never gave up. He still kept to the daily relay of his day’s account that Lan Wangji would wake up to. He had learned a lot of things about Wei Wuxian that he locked within himself. His brother would ask, sometimes and Lan Wangji would ignore him, playing deaf, until he gave up. Guilt swallowed him up every time he ignored his brother but he was too much of a coward to admit the growing feelings.
Wei Wuxian, unlike what he expected, was a boy his age. With a passion to draw and sword-fight. In his own words, he was better than Crown Prince Jiang Wanyin. He slept at midnight and woke up at ten in the morning. He loved to tease and flirt. And he never shut up about his Shijie, Princess Jiang Yanli. Beneath the teasing quips, Lan Wangji saw the love between the siblings.
In short, Wei Wuxian was far from the snobbish prince he expected to be. Someone who was rich and used it for their advantage. Instead, Wei Wuxian was someone who was filled with life and cared for his subjects. Lan Wangji was drawn to it like a moth to the flames. Unfortunately, these feelings were not wanted.
The urge to answer back was always there. So that he could confess his day’s fruits to Wei Wuxian too. But then he was terrified. Afraid of him knowing Lan Wangji’s identity and somehow being unsatisfied. After all, the reputation of Lan Wangji’s cold beauty was well reaching and was heard in the Capital too. With the life in Wei Wuxian, he was sure that such warmth would not desire the coldness he harbours.
Love was something Lan Wangji has received from Brother and Uncle. Love is something Lan Wangji has always been afraid to give.
But when he turned seventeen, so did his resolve. His brother was consumed by the thickening politics. There was a rise in bandit cases in Gusu Lan territory. The farmers were complaining and children were being kidnapped. His brother had become distant and Uncle went with it. Though they still talked, Lan Xichen was too tired to talk for long at night and his uncle was busy with going to conferences with other clans who faced similar problems.
In a fit of loneliness, Lan Wangji once again wielded his brush and stroked down his left wrist. Wei Wuxian, thankfully, always wrote on his write arm, leaving hopeful place for Lan Wangji’s response. Thought today Wei Wuxian had not written to him. So, he chose to take the first step this time.
I did not hear from you tonight. Is something the matter?
You’re alive? The reply came, not even two minutes after. Lan Wangji was startled by the speed but his heart warmed, feeling content in a strange way.
Yes.
I thought you gave up on me. you weren’t replying to me at all.
I had business to attend to.
What do you do for a living then?
I am a scholar.
Silence. Lan Wangji stared at his right arm, trying to understand why Wei Wuxian had gone mute. Had he done something wrong? Did he reveal too much? Is he worried that his soulmate wasn’t the one he was looking for?
You are not a royal?
Oh. That. No.
What’s your name?
A-Zhan. He has to lie. Lan is not a common name and there is only one Lan Zhan in the Lan Family.
I’m glad we talked, A-Zhan. You can call me Wei Ying now.
Wei Ying. The characters looked beautiful against his pale skin and Lan Wangji wonders if the owner of the name would be just as beautiful or perhaps even more so. Breathing sharply, Lan Wangji fought against the rising anxiety and exhaled in one wild swoop.
Can we meet anytime soon, A-Zhan?
I do not know. I have to go.
Lan Wangji hurriedly covered the evidence of crime with his robe and buried his face into his hands. An almost hysterical chuckle escaped his lungs and turned into a small sob that shook him. This is stupid. He should not have done it. They would never be true soulmates. A Prince cannot marry a commoner, that is against the law.
“Wangji?” his brother’s voice called beyond the door to Jingshi. Hurrying to wipe his eyes, Lan Wangji made sure that his face was masked to his best abilities before he went to open the door. Lan Xichen smiled tiredly and the corner of his eyes were tight with worry.
“I want you to go to the Yang Ping village tomorrow. The Bandits will be there. Sect Leader Nie Mingjue will be sending his forces there. Will you be alright leading the juniors?”
“Yes. I will do it. Rest now, brother. You need sleep,” Lan Wangji softens his eyes and Lan Xichen smiles wider. They bid each other goodnight and he shut the door as his brother leaves.
This is good, he reminds himself, a good distraction that will do him really good. The thoughts linger in his mind as he goes about the next few hours trying his best to ignore the need to write to Wei Wuxian about how he will not be able to answer him for the next couple weeks. But as he packs his sack before he goes to sleep, his fingers find ink and brush anyways.
Nie Huaisang greets him when Lan Wangji arrives with the Juniors. He is wearing fine silk clothes and hides his smile and nervous, twitching nose behind his fluttering fan. He calls Lan Wangji— “Wangji-xiong.”
They are in one of the outer villages. Yang Ping, a farming, peaceful set of older people who offer kind houses to board the set of cultivators. It takes three wooden houses, small as they are, to contain ten of them; five Nie and five Lan. They are invited to have tea in the Village Chief’s house, the biggest in this small village.
The Juniors dote on Nie Huaisang immediately, relieved to be away from the stoic Hanguang-jun. The Nie Cultivators are kind and Nie Huaisang complains about how he doesn’t want to be here but he would rather die under a bandit’s hands rather than his own brother’s. They have a…startingly different chemistry than Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen. He does not enjoy the constant buzz of chatter and how his Juniors have a loosened tongue because of no teachers reminding them about proper etiquette. Though they are afraid of Lan Wangji and his status in the clan, he is not taken more seriously than a few moments.
Lan Wangji, finally fed up with the chatter, leans over to talk to the Chief who is quietly sipping his tea, smiling when needed but looking rather disturbed. “Sir, can you please tell me about the bandits here?” he asks and almost feels bad when the man flinches.
“Oh! Hanguang-jun,” the man sighs, a wobbly laughter escaping him. “You see, I’ve been wind up very well with nerves!”
“I see.” Lan Wangji tries to look approaching but realises he would most probably look even more stoic so he gives up on the cause, sitting like he usually would. “Please continue.”
“Ah, yes. The troubles started, uh, about two weeks ago. There wasn’t much in the beginning. A few thefts and no one saw it in the first couple days. But then the women started complaining about strange men disturbing them on their way to the markets in the village. You see, we sell our produce directly. Some men went along, leaving our farms and the trouble stopped for a while. But then our crops started disappearing. Our livelihood is threatened now. Last night, my nephew was kidnapped!” The man broke into a tearful sob.
Lan Wangji coughed, feeling awkward and useless. His arm tingled but he ignored it and caught Nie Huaisang’s eyes. Pointing at the man with an open palm, Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes a bit. getting the message, the boy rose from between adoring Juniors (getting corrupted, no doubt) to huff and puff on his way to comfort the sobbing Chief.
“There, there,” Nie Huaisang says, patting at the man’s shoulder with a grimace and flutters the fan over the man’s face awkwardly. “You’re the chief, aren’t you? How can the other farmers maintain their resolve if their leader breaks down?”
Coughing lightly to get his attention, Lan Wangji gestures to the door. “I shall take a look around. Please ensure that they are safe.”
“Eh?! But Wangji-Xiong, I am useless at these things!”
Lan Wangji bites his tongue to stop from saying his thoughts aloud: Yes. I know.
The fields are wide and fertile looking. The tall fodder crops stand tall, raising up to his knee. The food crops are harvested and gone, but the soil hides seeds that will soon grow with time. Lan Wangji is careful to not stamp on the mounds of seed and fodder crop as he navigates the fields. Eyes peeled for any suspects hiding behind the grass, Lan Wangji keeps all his sense open and reaching.
Perhaps, it is all his training that makes him draw Bichen and press the sharp blade against the person who has appeared behind him. If the dry grass at his feet hadn’t crinkled with another pair of feet, he would have been attacked. But now, there was another blade pressed to his neck, the tip shy of shedding blood.
Lan Wangji looks away from the throat, peeking out from dark robes with red highlights, where Bichen was keeping them at mercy. When he lifts his gaze up, Lan Wangji really has to put an effort in the way his breath hitches. The man before him is absolutely gorgeous. Hair wild, eyes shining with intrigue and a sloppy smirk on his lips.
“Prince Wei,” he mutters, drawing his sword back and steps away from the man’s orbit. Wei Wuxian’s smirk widen as he puts his sword back in the scabbard. “I apologise for my harshness.” Reminding himself to bow, Lan Wangji shifts his eyes away from the fierce grey staring back.
He has seen Prince Wei in the painting street vendors show off in the market. Had looked at it when curiosity had surpassed his inhibition and his brother was distracted. It had to be said that, those flimsy paintings did the real Wei Wuxian no justice. The man in front of him was put together in a way that took no effort but looked like he was crafted with practiced hands nonetheless. there was beauty in the mess of Wei Wuxian.
“It is alright, Young Master.” Wei Wuxian chuckles. “You can look at me. I’m just the ward of the Royal Family. There is no need for such politeness!”
Lan Wangji takes a deep breath before he looks up, his own curiosity being the biggest drive. Wei Wuxian is smiling at him, almost teasing. “Might I ask, Prince Wei, what you are doing here?”
“So eager to get rid of me, eh? Am I that unwanted?” He pouts.
“No. I did not—”
Wei Wuxian laughs, cutting him off with a absent swat over Lan Wangji’s shoulder. and if this man wasn’t his soulmate and the Prince, Lan Wangji would have scowled him down. “Oh, you’re funny. What’s your name?”
Oh right. He doesn’t know Lan Wangji is A-Zhan. “Lan Wangji,” he answers instead, feeling a bit bitter nonetheless.
“Nice to meet you, Lan Wangji. Or should I say, the younger Twin Jade of Lan.”
“Lan Wangji is fine.”
“Oh!” Wei Wuxian howls with laughter again. This time, he does not touch Lan Wangji. “I like you, Lan Wangji!”
If his heart skipped a beat then it is no one’s business but his own.
The Village goes into a tizzy when Lan Wangji brings Wei Wuxian to the Chief’s house. Nie Huaisang openly gapes while the Juniors look a bit star-struck as the Chief flounders around to get cushions for the man to sit on.
“Really! There is no need,” Wei Wuxian says, laughing a bit uncomfortably at the courtesy. He does not sit on the couch, instead he pushes it to the aging Chief who’s flustered over the unexpected humbleness, not knowing if he should risk his head by misreading his actions.
“Oh, Price, but really—”
“I am just a ward of the Royal Family. You need not call me Prince, sir. Just call me Wei Wuxian.” He smiles and Lan Wangji almost feels bad that the Chief looks closer and closer to fainting.
Nie Huaisang, surprisingly or perhaps just because he is indeed too shameless, speaks first. “If you do not mind me asking, Prince—” Wei Wuxian gives him a stern look and Nie Huaisang gulps before amending. “Right. Young Master Wei. What bring you here?”
“Oh, I heard of the bandits. I can’t just sit back while my people suffer, can I?” Wei Wuxian smiles and looks across the faces that has bloomed with pride and impressed grins before it lights on Lan Wangji. He looks right back and presses his lips together when the boy’s smile turns mischievous. “Are you not happy I am here, Hanguang-jun?”
“I am thankful for Your Highness’ assistance,” Lan Wangji says, his heart thrumming loudly beneath his façade that remains only due to the years of practice he’s had. But if he stays in the sunshine bright presence of the prince for longer, he really would give himself away. He had yet to look at what Wei Wuxian has written and is glad that both their arms are covered well.
“If you excuse me,” Lan Wangji says, looking over to the Chief and the other cultivators before looking back to Wei Wuxian. “I have work to do. Please enjoy your stay here.” And if he saw a flash of something in the boy’s eyes, he chooses to ignore it.
A few minutes passes and Lan Wangji finds himself safe in between the grass once again. The sun is high in its zenith, shining mercilessly at him, but Lan Wangji cares for it not as he draws the sleeve up to his arm and reads the phantom ink message: I am going on an adventure today. This would be my first time!
He really does not want to call an almost man cute. But the message and the fresh image of Wei Wuxian’s visage with his cheeky grins and secret skills does funny things to his thoughts. All he can think of I show much he wants to keep Wei Wuxian close. Even though he knew it would be only a fever dream that would pass away with embarrassment and disappointment.
Sighing, Lan Wangji steels his heart and starts navigating the rest of the fields to survey hidden bandits. It is peaceful for almost fifteen minutes before someone is calling him: “Lan Wangji!” A voice that has become the life to all the blackness marring his skin.
Continuing to walk, Lan Wangji pretends to be deaf until Wei Wuxian has bounded up next to him with his carefree walk and bright grin. “How may I help Your Highness?” he asks, a small, guilty seed of amusement germinating in his chest when Wei Wuxian pouts.
“When I said to call me Wei Wuxian, it involved you too,” he says, skipping ahead so that he’s walking backwards so that he is facing Lan Wangji. “And you are much more interesting than the people back there.”
“Interesting?” A butterfly of hope flutters against his chest and Lan Wangji is quick to remove his gaze away from the prince before any signal is sent.
“Yes. All they do is try to be close to me. But you are so bent on your duty. You, Lan Wangji, is a rare gem.”
“You are much kind, Your Highness, but I’ve been brought up with principles.”
“That again! As punishment—” Here, his eyes twinkle deviously and Lan Wangji wills away the slight start of panic. “—I order you to call me Wei Ying!”
Lan Wangji doesn’t respond, his ears have started to burn and there is a bit of guilty pleasure in watching Wei Wuxian squirm with the quiet. But before he could validate him with a response, a figure jumps from the grass behind Wei Wuxian. Without even thinking, Lan Wangji yanks Wei Wuxian towards him and draws Bichen. A loud yelp echoes in the field for a moment before it falls silent as the body falls to the ground, brown soil darkened with blood.
Lan Wangji looks around but there is not one else around here. Turning to Wei Wuxian, he looks stunned and almost awed. “Have you never killed a man?” He reached a hand over for the boy to take and pulls him up.
“I-I may have talent with the sword,” Wei Wuxian says and gulps. “But I lack the wisdom of the world. I assure you, Lan Wangji, I will not repeat my carelessness again.”
“You’re a fast learner, Your Highness.” Lan Wangji lets go off his hand and starts to walk back towards the village. “I should report this to the Chief and make plans.”
Wei Wuxian is silent behind him and Lan Wangji turns to look at his pensive face. He hesitates for a moment before he sighs and says, “Wei Ying should try to stay alive.” The look that flashes over his face makes Lan Wangji almost faint with nerves but before either of them can prolong the conversation, he is hurrying off, leaving the Prince behind.
When Wei Wuxian departed—well, snuck out would be a more accurate term—from the palace with the fight with Jiang Cheng fresh on his mind and Madam Yu’s whip still sizzling on his back, he did not expect to find any other cultivators there. He did not tell his soulmate about it but he was a bit moody with them now too.
After revealing everything about him, all he received were bland answers that asked for more. At first, when it all started the fateful day his soulmate actually wrote back, he thought that it was sweet but he’d forgotten his place as Honorary Prince, ward of the King Jiang Fengmian, and the dangerous of it. He’d grown up cynical that his soulmate was someone who was selling all his information to someone, which would explain why they were so secretive about their personal life (all Wei Wuxian knew about them was that they loved their brother, rabbits and poetry. Was good at sword and lived in a place with snow every winter. It wasn’t enough for someone as thirsty for knowledge like Wei Wuxian) but would not answer why he was still alive with his honour intact.
Now, here he was, cut off from the ties of boring Royal duties which, for him, included shadowing Jiang Cheng and helping his Shijie with her lessons sometimes, when it was neither he was whisked off to practice sword forms and Royal Family lessons. Ugh.
His arm did not tingle with any new messages, he reminded himself briskly as he walked through the fields. Perhaps Suibian had led him off at the field instead of the village front and Wei Wuxian clasped the handle almost childishly. Thinking about his soulmate always made him feel a mixture of yearning and frustration. He wanted to meet them, to be happy with them, but if they were making him feel this bad by ignoring him, then perhaps it is best that he completely cut ties or maybe they can be Pen Pals and write letters on each other’s skin; a friendship at best.
Sighing, Wei Wuxian sped up only to come to a stop after a moment when another figure appeared in front of him. Stilling, he held his breath and ogled the man before him, well, his back. Long, inky black hair laid perfectly against the broad back clad in white clothes that had cloud motifs stitched to the fringes. The Lan Sect. He knows Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren and has seen other disciples whenever there were formal meetings in the Royal Chamber. All of them would be wearing sombre looks and their robes reminded Wei Wuxian of funeral clothes.
This man, however, he has never seen. So, as curious as he was, Wei Wuxian stepped forward and onto a twig that snapped under his weight. The man swirled and he reacted instinctively to draw Suibian. Their swords crossed and pressed to each other’s throats but Wei Wuxian was busy staring.
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
The person before him, looking around his own age, was the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Perfect brows and perfect lips and perfect jaws, covered with imperfect pores and small cuts that only enhanced his humane beauty that seemed too cold to touch. But what kept him arrested was his eyes. They were golden and gleamed with challenge.
He knew who this boy was. The famous brother of Lan Xichen. The best in their generation and famous for his unapproachable beauty. At that moment, he really wished that Lan Wangji would be his soulmate. But that was wishful thinking, wasn’t it? Someone as perfect as him wasn’t suited for someone as broken as Wei Wuxian.
“Prince Wei,” Lan Wangji says as he draws his sword back.
Call me Wei Ying. He wants to say. But he keeps it to himself because he knows that if hears his name in that voice, it would be too much. Even if he was having trouble trusting his soulmate, he wouldn’t hurt them without giving them a chance first.
That night, Wei Wuxian stays in the best room the Village Chief has. He had denied it but he knows that they would all grow worried if he didn’t so there was much less protest. And the added was that he would be sleeping right across Lan Wangji. They were sharing a room as the Chief did not want to insult the Second Young Master of their sole protector of these many years either. Wei Wuxian hadn’t complained, heart loud in his ears with the rush of his blood when Lan Wangji grudgingly accepted. Even though his façade had told a story of indifference, Wei Wuxian knew he was hesitant. He decided to take it as an opportunity to tease but was disappointed when Lan Wangji ignored him and went to bed at nine.
The rest of the household did so too. Tonight, the Nie Sect would be patrolling the village and Wei Wuxian knew he would stay with the Lan Clan, or well, to Lan Wangji. He did not want to disturb their rest so he went to bed too. But it was far too early in his normal schedule so Wei Wuxian did the best thing he could think of. He pulled out his handy set of portable ink and brush. Perhaps his soulmate would tolerate his late-night musings, even when they never replied after nine.
Frowning, Wei Wuxian looks over to Lan Wangji, his heart startling before settling down. No way. That’s just coincidence. He watches the other boy a bit more, the way the moonlight filters in through the small window and falls onto him. His hair is open and spills past his shoulders, the length almost touching the floor. His face, turned towards Wei Wuxian’s admiring gaze, is lax with peace and he looks even more ethereal under the silvery glow. Shadows emphasis his lashes and lips and Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitch.
He doesn’t have many things in his life that he adores. Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng, his horse that behaves like a spoiled donkey, Lil Apple and the food of Yungmeng (especially his Shijie’s) but other than that, he adores art. Ink has long since stopped forming words under his fingers and spins lines that join together to images. For some years it had been scenery then it shifted to people before it shifted to scenery again. The past two years, he started drawing his soulmate. Or how they’d look like. Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman.
At that moment, as he gazes at Lan Wangji, he wants his soulmate to look like him. Sitting up, Wei Wuxian reacts on instinct and under the daze of artistic drive to reach over to the ink and brush. There are no paper available so he swats aside his sleeves and pins his hair away from his face. The blank canvas of his right arm and palm is inviting and Wei Wuxian allows his heart to lead.
Halfway into the daze, the sleeping figure of Lan Wangji has gained momentum on his arm and his muse stirs. The moon is still high in the sky as Wei Wuxian freezes, waiting for the man to wake up and interrogate him for his creepy behaviour. Instead, Lan Wangji sighs in his sleep and turns towards Wei Wuxian. His arm, previously covered by the blanket, falls free to dangle out the bed.
Taking a moment to admire the unforeseeable adorableness of a sleeping Hanguang-jun, Wei Wuxian ignores the pounding in his heart and sketches his gaze downwards and stops with a darkness stands up against moonlight-paled skin on Lan Wangji’s arm. It’s turned away from Wei Wuxian but his curiosity is caught and will not go down until it’s satisfied.
A whisper of blanket and clatter of brush later, Wei Wuxian is crouching in front of Lan Wangji’s sleeping form, silent as a cat. He gently takes Lan Wangji’s hand in his, careful of not disturbing him in the sleep and ignores the steady thrum of his heart as he turns it to come face to face with his ink work of Lan Wangji’s painting.
Something like anger fills him first but that fizzles away to a bitterness that is soon seeped with relief. Doesn’t mean he forgives Lan Wangji for playing this game of cat and mouse so far. But Wei Wuxian is not a child anymore and he releases the boy’s hand. Lan Wangji huffs before he goes right back to resting, hand pulled close to his chest.
Affection is not a strange emotion to Wei Wuxian but it is definitely something he had kept for family, but now that familiar twinge rings in his chest. Instead of being petty with him, Wei Wuxian decided to ask him later when they are done with this bandit business. But then an idea rings a bell and his smile turns mischievous.
“I found you, Soulmate,” he whispers, barely above a breath. “Now I will make you wait just a bit more. When this is over, I’ll let you tell me your side until then, I’ll have a bit of fun.”
Lan Wangji wakes up to the dawn disturbing his sight. Wei Wuxian is sprawled on his bed with the most undignified snoring ringing around the room. Sighing, he gets up to freshen up and gather reports from the Nie sect.
However, halfway to getting dressed into a fresh pair of robes, he notices the ink strokes on his arm. Panic floods him like the gushing streams when the snow starts to melt in Spring; forceful and cold. When he escapes outside, Wei Wuxian is up and scratching at his hair, robes falling off his shoulder. keeping his pounding heart at bay, Lan Wangji asks, voice as calm as he can keep, “Did you sleep well, Prince Wei?”
“Huh?” Wei Wuxian looks at him, adorably confused before he blinks and recognition fills his gaze. “Oh! Yeah—” A yawn cuts through but he barrels through nonetheless. “I slept well. You? Lan Wangji? Or should I say, Lan Zhan?”
Ice slithers down his spine and Lan Wangji stiffens. “How do you—”
“Oh, you know!” Wei Wuxian laughs. “The Prince knows all the prominent young masters and their names and all. You are very remarkable, Hanguang-jun, of course I’d remember yours.” The easy way of his posture, slumped on the bed with sleepiness sticking to his bare shoulders like cobwebs, did not betray lies.
“And you called me Wei Ying, didn’t you? I shall call you Lan Zhan from now on, yes?” Wei Wuxian smiles at him and Lan Wangji can feel the way the panic ebbs away to be replaced with heat. the way his name rolls out of the man’s tongue makes something in Lan Wangji settle and yearn for a love he cannot have.
“Shameless,” he retorts before escaping the room and its residence. He finds Nie Huaisang and the senior disciple of Nie Sect already there with the Chief.
“Ah, Wangji-xiong! We were just talking about yesterday!” Nie Huaisang greets, scooting over to make space of him to sit.
Lan Wangji accepts the offered tea and asks the senior disciple, a girl about his age with a fierce scar down her chin, to recount yesterday’s happening. She sits upright, a bit start-struck at Lan Wangji’s focus on her; the open awe did nothing to make him feel more comfortable.
“The Juniors found rebels hiding in one of the stables. We were able to capture two of them but no amount of force brought them to spill anything. They were found with ration and some precious metals. No sign of the children but we suspect there are others hiding somewhere far from here.”
“They must be coming here in turns to loot,” Nie Huaisang says, sipping demurely at his tea. Lan Wangji nods, glad that this Young Master was not as dumb as he played to be.
“Yes. We must keep watch and ensure that any other bandits be caught soon,” he says. “What happened to the caught bandits?”
“Oh, they—” Nie Huaisang snaps his fan open and fans absently with a small smile. Lan Wangji ponders if he should be weary of this boy. “Da-ge is handling it. They were sent with two of our Juniors to the Unclean Realm.”
“You know what’s better?” Wei Wuxian, appearing out of thin air and dropping beside Lan Wangji with a messy flutter of his robe, intervenes. The other startle and it only the Lan training engrained in him that does not compel him to reach for Bichen.
“Oh, Prince! Please have this—” Chief says but is quickly shut down when Wei Wuxian laughs off his offer (“We’re having an important conversation! Such things are trivial!”)
“What were you suggesting, Prince Wei?” Nie Huaisang asks and cuts his eyes to the senior disciple who is gaping but she catches whatever message was in that look and scurries away.
“I was saying—” Wei Wuxian scratches his nose, “—that we follow the bandits. They would be cautious now that they are aware of our lookouts but bandits have a tendency to be rather careless, you know? I have a feeling they will return tonight and try to steel their last loot to establish their power before they move away.”
“We cannot risk anything based on your feeling,” Lan Wangji says. Nie Huaisang gasps at his audacity but he is not looking at the boy. All his attention is focused on Wei Wuxian who has a glint in his eyes and smile wider over his face.
“Ah. But what if it’s just two who watches that night? It will give them a sense that we have given up and it would give us an open to follow them. We can go on our swords to make less noise, of course. What’d you say?” Wei Wuxian looks around their faces with excitement equalling a child’s.
“It is a good idea,” Nie Huaisang says. “I do agree with your logic, Your Highness. They will be desperate now that all sects have been alerted of their presence. And greed blinds all man, right?”
“Right!” Wei Wuxian grins and looks over at Lan Wangji. “What do you say, Lan Zhan?”
“I do not believe the bandits will be foolish. They might see through our plan. That is why I demand I shall be one of the two.”
“Of course. I was actually thinking, it would be us two!”
“I diverge from that,” Lan Wangji says, not looking away from Wei Wuxian. “You have no experience with fighting. You nearly fell victim to one of the bandits yesterday and I do not think you are ready to fight ruffians who would do anything to harm you.”
Wei Wuxian looks appalled but before he can speak, Nie Huaisang says, “I agree with Hanguang-jun. I apologise, Prince Wei, but he has a point. You are inexperienced and we rather not have the Prince of Jiang Kingdom die when he is under our care.”
“I am not weak! Do you call me incompetent?” Anger is a funny thing on Wei Wuxian but Lan Wangji knows he would continue to dissuade him until he agrees and the reasons go behind practical ones; he does not want his soulmate to be endangered.
“No, of course not!” Nie Huaisang flutters his fan in the wind, panicked. “I was just saying that you could be the backup. Let Hanguang-jun go with my Senior disciple. Nie Miso is very talented and she would be a good match to his skills set. But if they do not come in, lets say an hour, you can go to rescue them!”
“Or, I could go along with them and make it a party of three,” Wei Wuxian grumbles, folding his arms like a child. Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian has a good heart but royalty has rubbed off on him nonetheless.
“You should shadow us. If we cannot handle the struggle alone, then we will signal you.” Lan Wangji knows that he wouldn’t allow things to come to that but ego is a difficult thing to soothe and he has little doubt that Wei Wuxian is actually skilled. And what better than a group of bandits to practice on?
Wei Wuxian brightens up. “Alright. You can send me a flare on the sky and I will hurry. But in case you can’t. I will wait for an hour.”
“It is fine. I will find Nie Miso and inform her.” Lan Wangji gets up and nods to the other two. Nie Huaisang flutters his fan in goodbye while Chief bows deeply. “Please tell the other disciples of the plans,” he adds to Nie Huaisang who nods in assurance.
Just as he walks away, Wei Wuxian calls from behind, “Wait, Lan Zhan! Take me with you!” Oh, how I would like to.
When Wei Wuxian thought of fun. He hadn’t expected to find himself jealous instead of Lan Wangji. An acidic curdle stirs in his stomach and his tongue feels bitter in his mouth as he watches Nie Miso lean closer to Lan Wangji as he relays the plan. Her eyes are open with awe and even through her dark skin tone, he can see the blush on her ears. Biting his cheeks, Wei Wuxian things that he will forgive Lan Wangji for lying to him only if he could just stay away Nie Miso.
It petty, he knows. But since when has human mind cared for logic when it comes to the matter of heart?
“We shall stay up in the fields, out of sight and let the bandits take the loot set out for them in Ming Su’s house.” Lan Wangji points to the cabin nearest to the fields. “When they escape, we will follow them on sword. Prince Wei will follow few li behind.”
“Understood.” Nie Miso smiles coyly. “I am honoured to work with you.”
It is with little pleasure, Wei Wuxian finds Lan Wangji’s discomfort charming. “Oh, I am too!” he chimes in with a grin. “I would learn so much from him.”
Lan Wangji glares at him before he stalks away with a huff. Nie Miso and Wei Wuxian stay there in awkward silence and she starts to bow stiffly. “Your Highness. It is an honour to work with you too.”
Maybe he really should stop being this petty but his ego drives him to ask her sarcastically, “Are you in love with Lan Wangji?”
Nie Miso starts and she blushes. “Oh! No! I have a lover back at home. It is just that I admire Hanguang-jun. He had done a lot of selfless deeds and everyone adores him for his help. Even though he is a bit cold looking, he is rather kind.”
Shame climbs up his spine once again, his promise falling useless now. However, he tries to smile. “He is, is he not? I have heard a lot about him. Really, he should be the one to take my brother’s position in the most promising bachelor list!”
Her laughter is bright and Wei Wuxian decides that it is time to stop being petty. Instead, a new plan of encountering Lan Wangji tonight to confess his discovery and talk about the future starts in him. Perhaps, being a prince only makes you have a gloated ego and if he is to be truly a worthy soulmate of the priced Hanguang-jun, he should start making the effort from now onwards. “I look forward to working with you, First Disciple Nie!”
She smiles and Wei Wuxian decided that this was a good enough start.
The plan commences at nine in the night. Wei Wuxian watches with Lan Wangji and Nie Miso as two figures emerge from the tall grass and sneaks into Ming Su’s house. They giggle among themselves as they escape back into the grass. They wait two minutes before Lan Wangji and Nie Miso boards their swords and flies high above.
When they are mere blurs against the sky, Wei Wuxian boards Suibian and follows. They travel an hour, thankful that the bandits are non-cultivators with ears that were not sensitive enough to listen to the sound of sword cutting air, before they reach the forest. From there onwards, they follow close to the ground, hiding behind trees and foliage to prevent the bandits from sighting them. It was clear how skilled Lan Wangji is as he didn’t even wobble at the skill of flying close to ground; perhaps it was because they were soulmates perhaps Wei Wuxian really was just that easy to fall for someone.
Soon, the forest thins and the bandits disappear into a cave. Wei Wuxian stays hidden in the trees, waiting for any signal. Minutes pass before shouts echo and cries are heard. There are clashing of metal and a lot of yelling but they quiet down significantly. Just as he thinks that everything is going well, a green flare ignites rushes out of the cave.
Frowning, he takes flight into the cave and runs until he reaches the heart of the commotion. There are about ten men who lay wounded on the ground, some unconscious but none dying. Nie Miso is finishing off the final one just as she catches his eyes. “Please! He is hurt!”
Wei Wuxian looks over to find Lan Wangji slumped on the dirt, a dead woman near him. Ignoring the smell, he rushes over to the man. “Lan Zhan? Where are you hurt?” His hands flutter around the wounded man with worry until Lan Wangji starts to gets up only to wobble. Hurrying to catch him before he falls, Wei Wuxian bites back a gasp at the dark red stain on Lan Wangji’s thigh.
“Lan Zhan, don’t move,” Wei Wuxian instructs and lays him back on the ground. There is less struggle, the blood loss and shock making his inhibitions lower. As a Prince, he is trained in medical field and his friend, Wen Qing, is an expert doctor. Whenever Madam Yu is cross with him, he would escape to her office and help with whatever she wanted him to do. Dressing the wounded and providing first aid were the first lessons from the best herself.
Tearing off his outer robe and stripping it, he ties the strip around Lan Wangji’s wounded thigh, beneath his flowing robes. It doesn’t look too deep and with Hanguang-jun’s level of cultivation, he would heal well.
“Wei… Ying?” Lan Wangji croaks and Wei Wuxian hums. Behind them, a final groan is heard before someone thumps onto the ground.
“Everyone, ugh, is defeated,” Nie Miso ground out, panting with exertion.
“Thank you, Nie Miso. You did a great work,” Wei Wuxian says, tying up the final strip. It should do to staunch the blood for now, but he needs stitches and the wound needs to be disinfected. Lan Wangji doesn’t exhibit signs of poison but he does look like he will faint.
“Nie Miso, did you find the children?” Wei Wuxian asks, as he hooks his arms around Lan Wangji and gently lifts him into his arms. thanking all the sword-training, Wei Wuxian winces at the weight of a grown man. Lan Wangji’s head lolls onto his shoulder and he presses his lips together as he reminds himself that this is not the right time to be swooning.
“Yes,” she answers, slowly recovering her breath. “They are in another cave not far from here. That one Hanguang-jun killed told us.”
“I see. Thank you. Are in the health to send a flare? The others should be able to see it and sent reinforcements.”
“Of course.” Nie Miso struggles onto her feet and Wei Wuxian feels bad that he can’t help her. She stops a few feet away from the entrance and sends a powerful spirit flare.
“I need to bring him to a healer,” Wei Wuxian says as he joins her. “Will you handle the situation here until Nie Huaisang and the others show up?”
“Yes.” Nie Miso looks down at the now-fainted Lan Wangji with a frown. “Will he be alright?”
“The wound is not too deep. But before he gets any infection—”
“Oh, yes! Please go ahead, Your Highness.” Nie Miso bows and Wei Wuxian smiles as he summons Suibian to board it. Soon, the ground becomes smaller as he slices through the night air to reach the village. He knows where the healer lives, a kind old woman, and doesn’t waste time to stop when he notices the green and white robes of Juniors swish past him. They call out for him but he does not stop.
All the while, his mind is plagued with how useless he truly is. He couldn’t help Lan Wangji fight and he couldn’t kill or harm anyone. All he did was do some first aid and be petty. What is a prince if he does not know how to face battles?
The small cottage where the healer lives in looms into view and Wei Wuxian expands his energy to reach faster. The old woman is startled at the frenzied knocking but takes one look at the man in his arms and ushers them inside.
“Stab wound. About half an hour. Not too deep,” Wei Wuxian says, setting Lan Wangji down on the mat.
The old woman nods and brings forth a paste of herbs. He recognises them to be disinfection and anti-inflammation herbs. He helps her by swiping aside the robes and cutting off the pant legs, his fingers are not shaky here, confident with practice. The wound doesn’t look like it will fester with infection so, Wei Wuxian heaves a relieved sigh as it gets cleaned and stitches before it’s covered with herbs and then bound with clean linen. Until then, Wei Wuxian busies himself with checking for other wounds and cleaning the grime and blood out of Lan Wangji’s skin.
There a litany of small cuts over his hands and face but other than that, it is safe. Gently, he places Lan Wangji’s head on his lap and smooths the hair back from his face, gingerly touching the headband around Lan Wangji’s forehead to adjust it. Still so beautiful, he thinks, I he didn’t know better, Lan Wangji would just look like he’s going through a nightmare. Rough fingers smooth the frowns when the thread tugs the wound close and hums a soothing tune when the stinging herbs cover the stitching.
“Are you a healer?” the woman asks and Wei Wuxian stares at her for a moment before he realises that she doesn’t know who he is. It is…a relief, really. This anonymity and something like resolve starts to form in his stomach.
“No. But I have friend who is a doctor. She taught me a lot about medicine and the art of healing.” Wei Wuxian smiles as the woman’s face crinkles even more with her delight.
“Ah! Explains why you are so experienced with it. Are you related to this Young Master here? I heard he is the one helping us with those nasty bandits.” She pats Lan Wangji’s arm sympathetically.
“Those bandits are captured now. The children have been found and everything will return to its original place now.” He looks down at Lan Wangji with a proud smile. “Wouldn’t have been possible without him.” Then he frowns, the previous worries and self-accusations filtering in again.
“What is the matter, dear? Are you hurt too?”
“No. I just, I did nothing to help him. I have never been in a battle, you see.” Looking up, he catches the understanding dawn on her face. She reminds him of a grandmother he never had but thinks she would be like this kind healer with her sweet smile.
“Ah. You know the art of healing, perhaps not the best but you know it still. I always believed healing is a much finer art and nobler profession than they make battles into.” She points a mighty finger up.
“I agree with you. I have been trained in battle but I simply lack experience.” Wei Wuxian realises that making peace with yourself is always the first step and he smiles at her thankfully. “Thank you for helping, Ma’am.”
The woman chuckles. “That is my job! You never told me what your relationship is with this Young Master.” There is a twinkle in her eyes and Wei Wuxian feels a flush creeping up his neck.
“We’re soulmates.”
Realisation makes her eyes wide but she posses as much dignity as she does wisdom and doesn’t bow. However, she does smile and give a polite nod. “It is nice to meet you, Prince Wei. The rumours were true then. I hope you find the village nice?”
“Yes. After all, here is where I found my soulmate.”
“Ah. Special, then.”
“Yes.”
Sunlight makes him blink his eyes open, pain makes him wince it shut again. A muffled groan slips past Lan Wangji’s lips and a distant curse is heard before frenzied hands slide under his shoulder. blinking his eyes open again, he registers that this is not the Chief’s house.
“Lan Zhan? Are you feeling too much pain?” Wei Wuxian asks as he helps Lan Wangji sit up but instead of letting him go, he finds himself leaning against the prince. Heat makes his ears go red and his heartbeat rings too loudly.
“What happened?” He selfishly leans back just a bit to steal more of that warmth. Wei Wuxian’s voice rumbles in his ears and Lan Wangji’s mind starts to stutter, barely registering the words.
“The bandits were caught yesterday. The children were found and returned. Those of the other villages are returned. You fainted last night, after you were stabbed. I brought you here. Nie Huaisang is in charge, for now, with Nie Miso’s help. Everything is fine for now.”
“I need to write a report,” Lan Wangji says, already despairing of the word-works he’ll have to do.
“No need,” Wei Wuxian is saying and he startles causing him to let out a thrill of laughter that spends shivers down Lan Wangji’s spine. “I wrote the report. One to be sent to the Capital. One to your sect one to the Nie sect.”
“I see. Thank you, Your Highness.” Lan Wangji tries to turn around when Wei Wuxian tuts but firm hands keep him prisoner, forcing him to face the window opposite him. The straw-mat bites through his clothes and irritates his sensitive skin but he bites back any complaints.
“There is no need for formalities, Lan Zhan. To tell you the truth, I hate the title as a prince.” His voice turns honest, the familiar teasing leaving without a trace. Lan Wangji inhales sharply. “Just call me Wei Ying, alright?”
“Why not Wei Wuxian?” Perhaps being wounded really has stolen his wit away; a mortified blush climbs his neck when the man behind him chuckles.
“Ah, Lan Zhan. For Hanguang-jun, you can be a bit dense.” Wei Wuxian suddenly moves away from him and the sudden lack of support nearly sends Lan Wangji toppling backwards were it not for him to clench his core and maintain the balance at last minute.
Wei Wuxian hops in front of him, sitting with a bright smile even as the dusty floor leaves its traces on his dark robes. Lan Wangji is glad to see no visible harm and then freezes when Wei Wuxian starts to shimmy aside his robes and roll up his trouser.
“What are you doing?” Lan Wangji averts his gaze, blush high and burning on his ears. He wonders if something his Wei Wuxian and has made him senile.
“Aw, Lan Zhan. Look! Don’t you want to know why I want you to call me so?”
Apparently, curiosity gets even the best of the Lans or perhaps, it’s just Wei Ying and his insistent whining that is somehow endearing and annoying at the same time. taking a deep breath to ready his fissuring sanity, Lan Wangji turns to look and eyes the expanse of a tanned thigh. Wei Wuxian’s finger taps against something and Lan Wangji looks at it closely.
A scar. Or rather, a phantom scar.
Suddenly, Lan Wangji is transported to his past. when he was newly fifteen and his brother had frenzied with worry when Lan Wangji showed up to class with a massive pink scar, similar to a freshy healed one, against his neck. He was not aware of it, for it wasn’t his to begin with. After a lot of prodding, Lan Xichen was sure that his soulmate had gotten this scar and now Lan Wangji was wearing the proof of it. Uncle was notified but his brother managed to diver the attention before more questions could be asked. The scar had gone when Wei Wuxian healed completely. Perhaps, if he squints now, the traces would be there on the prince’s neck.
Ah. Panic seeps through his chest and settles in a dreaded knot against his stomach. Wei Wuxian smiles gently, seeing through his blank face in a way only his brother could. It is both terrifying and relieving.
“I knew you were my soulmate even before this, Lan Zhan. Remember the first night we stayed over?” Lan Wangji nods and is supplied with the rest of the story of how his moonlight-inspired portrait had given himself away.
“I wanted to make you jealous or something for knowing but still not telling me. You must have read in many of my messages to you how I cherish soulmates and how I yearend to meet you?” At Lan Wangji’s nod he smiles, bitterly teasing. “I wanted to have a bit of revenge but I realised how petty I was being. I made up my mind to come clean after this blew over. And here I am!” He spread his arms around him with a cheeky grin, but the tension in his shoulder gave away his nerves.
Taking a breath Lan Wangji says, “No one will accept us. I do not have royal blood. Neither do you.”
Smart Wei Wuxian with his comeback for everything says, “Ever heard of True Soulmates?”
“It is but a myth.”
“Yet here we are.”
True Soulmates. The once in a thousand years match where two non-royals could have a bonding of the souls. Here they are.
“Wei Ying. Was it true when you said you do not want to be Prince?”
Eyes softening, Wei Wuxian starts rolling his pants down before he wiggles on the floor until their arms are pressed together, both of them watching the window where a bird has now perched, chirping merrily.
“Yes. The royal life suffocates me. I-I want to be free. I want to night-hunt and—” he looks at Lan Wangji with a softer smile. “—I want to travel with my soulmate.”
“Come to Gusu with me.”
“Of course.”
Lan Xichen smiles behind Uncle, who is scowling at them both with an impressive restrain. Lan Wangji can see the way his wrinkled hands shake. It is only Wei Wuxian’s status as Prince that prevents him from getting up from his seat and going on a full rant.
“Uncle, clearly they have found each other. It is fate that decided for them,” Lan Xichen, ever the mediator, steps in.
Wei Wuxian next to him leans into to whisper and if Lan Wangji wasn’t besotted with this idiot, he would have snapped at him for making his uncle’s blood pressure raise even more. “Your brother is amazing. You are too, but you gotta agree, alright?” Oh, he agrees plenty.
“When did this happen?” Lan Qiren bites out and Lan Wangji breathes a discreet sigh at the loosening fists and locks his fingers with Wei Wuxian beneath the table.
“When I we turned fifteen, Grand Master Lan.” Wei Wuxian’s voice turns polite and diplomatic; Lan Wangji resists the urge to turn and check if it’s still the same person.
“I see. You have no Princely blood in you?” After the rage of being kept in the dark has quietened down to a low shimmer, Lan Qiren strokes his beard in contemplating touches.
“No.”
“Then it really is the fate. I will not be the person who will wrench apart something that is decided by the Fates.”
Quiet joy soars in Lan Wangji’s chest and makes his fingers tighten around Wei Wuxian’s. “Thank you, Uncle.”
“Hm!” Lan Qiren’s eyes soften and Lan Wangji reminds himself that this is the same man who brought his brother and him up with strict rules and gentle smiles as rewards. He is his family just as much as he is Lan Qiren’s.
“Congratulations, Wangji, Prince Wei,” Lan Xichen says with naked mirth. He looks like the stars have fallen to the ground to drench the world in its splendour. Lan Wangji will never stop being thankful for his family.
“Please do not call me Prince, Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian requests with a shy smile. “I will give up Princedom to stay with my soulmate.”
Lan Qiren looks reluctantly impressed and Lan Wangji feels that familiar burn of adoration in his chest. “You really are serious, Wei Wuxian. When will you get married?”
Twin chokes; one much less dignified than the other; resonates in the silent room. Lan Qiren’s amusement is palpable while Lan Xichen helplessly grins. “We,” Lan Wangji breathes, “Have not gone there yet.”
“They haven’t courted properly, Uncle,” Lan Xichen inputs helpfully. “They have been revealed to each other only a few days ago.”
A tut of deep disapproval escapes Lan Qiren. “Young people do not know customs. Well, as your elder, I shall first meet with you family, Wei Wuxian. Then we shall broker a courtship and marriage can be planned.”
Lan Wangji wants to say that they want to travel. Want to get to know each other more. But he figures that the entire deal of soulmates is that they shall desire no one but the other. And a Lan courtship lasts three months; that’s plenty of time to get to know each other. Wei Wuxian looks a bit nervous but Lan Wangji squeezes his hand in support. The King and Queen cannot stop them from tying the knot and he knows that it will go well.
“Start with letting go of each other’s hands. Rule of Courtship initiates no physical touch for the first month.” Lan Qiren says and they flinch apart.
This was going to be a long, long three months. Lan Wangji breathes deeply to keep his sanity about as Lan Qiren continues.
“First. Wei Wuxian, you will come with me to the Capital. His brother will take care of Lan Wangji now.”
“Right now?” Wei Wuxian blinks at Lan Qiren’s risen form and cowers just a bit at the glare. Lan Wangji bites his cheek to stop his amusement.
“Well, then, tell me when, Your Highness?”
“O-oh, now is fine!” Wei Wuxian darts him a look filled with adoration and fear before he bolts behind Lan Qiren who has already reached the threshold of the Jingshi.
I already miss him. When Lan Xichen looks at him with understanding, he tries to scrap together the rest of his dignity and rises as well. He has his own meditations and lessons to start the courtship and Lan Xichen looks in cloud nine to be of assistance.
The subjects of the Jiang Kingdom take the news of Prince Wei stepping down from the title of a Royal surprisingly well. For them, it was an act of honour and great humility. And the announcement of Prince Wei having found his soulmate in their beloved Hanguang-jun only made the news a softer a blow.
Of course, there were many murmurs and scowls, but in a sea of happy faces, those were easily ignored. After all, they were all witnesses for the once in a thousand years’ occurrence of true soulmates.
The news of the courting spread around and the gossip mill churned. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were never spoken about alone. The wedding that happened just as the whispers reduced, created an even bigger uproar. It wasn’t grand or flashy but it was there.
Now that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were cultivation partners, people started seeing them lingering in the outskirts of villages and expected them where the trouble was. As years went by, the uproar settled down and they were just another couple. Of course, their identity as soulmates were obvious, matching ink marks and scars were a big give-away after all, but they were known as the most powerful pair who helped those in need.
And no one could have been more happier than Lan Xichen with this turn of event. He was seeing his brother happy and he could finally seek his own with his soulmate, Nie Mingjue, the King of Nie kingdom.
Let’s keep it a secret that another fated pair, one of Royal blood and another of common one, exited right beside the Legendary Pair, yes?