Chapter Text
As the sun rose from its slumber for the third day in a row since the epilogue of the bloody clash against Wen Chao and his men - all of whom were now reduced to a murky, unidentifiable pile of ashes -, the assembled disciples of Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan finally set off, having long received news of Clan Leader Nie’s own victory, as well as gratefully accepting his call to take shelter inside his city.
Upon their arrival in Qinghe, they were all denuded of energy and willpower, exhausted out of their soul after the strenuous journey and the bloodshed they barely survived, no energy to spare. And yet, chattering with their fellows or with literally any living creature whom they happened to bump in and start a conversation with, the soul-deep exhaustion did not prevent any of them from gleefully spilling out the happenings of their victory, claiming without a hitch that the one who had come to their rescue and claimed such a huge and rewarding triumph was none other than Wei Wuxian.
They said he had taken upon himself the burden and goal to fulfil their purpose of revenge, and would thus assist the cultivation world once more, despite having been dead in the minds of most.
The news was reported just as excitedly and loudly by the disciples of Yunmeng Jiang without any complain on Jiang Cheng’s part, whose calculated strictness upon returning to Qinghe could fool no one— it was obvious he felt the most ecstatic of them for his sworn brother’s return.
But not all of them shared this happiness.
In fact, in response to the wondering looks and intrusive questions he knew he would receive, Wei Wuxian made sure to keep Wen Ning and Wen Qing hidden from view should trouble arise, but he did not fool himself with alluring thoughts. Troubles would come, regardless of his actions and wishful thinking.
The resentful energy contained within his soul, nestled in his body where once shone the brightest of lights, screamed with malevolence. It was like a persistent, nagging background noise that drowned out his thoughts, often leaving him on edge and unable to think clearly. It made him constantly tense and restless, forced to keep his guard up should anyone bother either him or those he was protecting, for such a matter was inevitable to be brought up by someone if only for spite toward his person.
Unfortunately, words spread fast and not many now were strangers to his request to keep two “Wen-dogs” with him, no one would keep quiet about it— especially when they could profit from his disadvantaged position and take the chance to speculate about his purpose: experiment on them with his new cultivation? Dispose of them should trouble arise? Use them to perform some kind of twisted trick? Or would it be bland torture?
Indeed, despite the initial enthusiasm aroused by the unexpected return of a strong alley in times of war, it didn’t take long for people to start whirring false stories to one another and spread hearsays.
It was quite expected, yet still disappointing, how rumors traveled all the way to Qinghe even before he stepped feet on its territory. Apparently, the entire cultivation world was now in hype: widely-spread were already the happenings of that night, so people strived to ascertain the “trickerys” Wei Wuxian was accused of using to achieve such glorious victory.
When he finally arrived to Qinghe, they were all lined up like peasants trying to grab as many goodies on sales as they could, waiting by the mighty gate of Qinghe for Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan to retire from the battlefield and finally take some well-deserved rest. They could do so only because Jiang Cheng and his parents had long crossed the gate of the city, thus leaving him alone to fend for himself should trouble arise.
Proving right his lack of fate on cultivators, it took just a few steps striding across the city of Qinghe with Wen Qing and Wen Ning in tow - the loathed white robes embroided in red replaced by black ones, quite similiar to Wei Ying’s own - for them to be surrounded by a shouting, degrading crowd.
“It is said that Wei Wuxian, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang Clan, has mastered the demonic path and enslaved two Wen-dogs!” someone ushered from the crowd, shy at first, as if to not be heard.
Walking ahead of the group, Wei Wuxian had looked as unfazed as always, his eyes remaining deliberately steady. Self-control was his only way of counterattacking, if he wished not to use violence. But the more he was forced to hear, the deeper his counscious wished to sink and lay forgotten, and the harder it was to restrain the resentment dwelling in his system from letting it wreck enormous disasters.
“Oh, look! It’s him, Wei Wuxian!”
“Are you sure that one is Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple?”
“He looks like Hell. Did he undergo torture before obtaining his revenge?”
“It would make sense. I heard Wen Chao screamed for hours before he was granted death.”
“Wen Chao is dead!? Good riddance!”
“Wen Zhuliu too, I heard!”
“T-The Core-Melting Hand? Who could have killed such a monster!?”
“Wei Wuxian! Wei Wuxian killed them all!”
Against his will, Wei Ying’s act of vengeance evolved into a subject of speculation and a source of gossip.
Truth was, he was already prepared for this. Ever since waking up in Yunmeng with a fuzzy head, he had long given up the hope to walk the safe path - if one existed at all - and had been aware all along of the impossibility of proceeding smoothly. Therefore, in moments like this where he felt helpless, bloodthirsty resentment stirring within his chest and forever lusting for blood, he would always pose himself a specific question: were the affront and the taunt he would have to suffer be worth his cause, in the end? Was it worth it to give this crooked future another try and endure all which he had to bear ’til his final breath?
If it weren’t for the dread that caught him whenever he thought of making things worse, of losing control and grasp of reality, Wei Ying might have long-since given up on holding back the power clawing at him to be set free. On the other end, had he lacked resolution or lived a life without remorse, then maybe he would have proceeded with more drastic decisions, or done nothing at all but sag in his own black hole of nothingness as the world lived on without him.
But he could not take any of these decisions, for too many lives were at stake and had been lost to the unkind fate of the universe as a consequence of his own actions.
His Shijie and Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu, the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, Wen Qing and Wen Ning, the Wen remnants, even Lan Zhan… if these people could reach their happily ever after or just be allowed to enjoy their life at its fullest, then it was worth taking this massive baggage on his own shoulders. Even if he would end up crushed beneath it.
The responsibility of the future fell on him…
But sometimes, he wished it wasn't so heavy.
Wei Wuxian breathed in and out and flexed his fingers at each side until his eyes, once a shimmering red, returned a dull silver. He tried to keep himself in check despite the increasing anger that fueled his body and the insistent push of the people around him, demanding for more than they should.
“Wei Wuxian killed Wen Ruohan’s last heir and the Core-Melting Hand with his hands, this is surely deserving of pray, but aren’t the two by his side the dogs he is said to carry along?”
“Now that I think of it… Isn’t that woman Wen Qing, the personal healer of Wen Ruohan!?”
“The other is too one of Wen Ruohan’s!”
“What!? Are you sure!?”
And so, even in clothes that could not give away their identities, their fame spoke by itself, so the recognition was unavoidable. It struck fear across the tense face of Wen Qing, who instantly wrapped an arm around her brother’s waist and clutched him close, a careful display of protectiveness as the whispers grew louder, turning into loud and angry shouts.
“How bold of Wei Wuxian to lead two Wen to our city! To side with our common enemy!”
“Does he not respect us at all!?”
“What are we chatting and waiting for!? Kill those Wen dogs at once!”
But before any of them could dare a step further, or before the air could be filled with clatter of unsheathed swords, a swarm of resentful energy spread widely across the entire field, rising an heavy ring of miasma in the mayhem. The lurking, deadly power which sparked horror and fear across every witnessing face began to flare around them like a quiet yet deafening threat; many had to lift their arms to cover their nose, hoping to smother the flurry of coughs that hacked out of their throats.
Flinching back at the unexpected action and staring vacantly after Wei Wuxian, whose back now shielded both, Wen Qing felt a sense of familiarity and safety pour in her body there where she stood, surrounded by a crowd of ill-intentioned people baring hate for her kindred and shouting hurtful words.
In an easy practiced motion, Wei Wuxian wielded Chenqing and called back the resentment he evoked, watching it linger in a threatening manner for a moment longer before it dissipated, obeying his order at last (not without loud complains screeching at the walls of his head).
Gritting his teeth with rage, one among the crowd shouted. “Wei Wuxian, so the voices that say you have turned yourself into a tool for resentful energy speak the truth!”
But in spite of the threat, dull, silver eyes blinked annoyingly back at him, face adorned with a thousand-year gaze. “I don’t see how that concerns you.”
And the whispers flared up, angered, a lump of displeased voices growing stronger and louder.
“How are you so prone to help the Wens and yet disregard us, allied Clans?” someone else, sharing the same feeling of disturbance, chimed in, a Jin— of course it had to be one of those stuck-up, Wen Qing noted quietly to herself.
“Wei Wuxian! I would think twice before deciding whose side to take! You shouldn’t strive to bring about your own destruction.”
At the affront, some people shared panicked glares, looking worried and fearful as they waited for another outburst of rage—
Instead, a loud, crooked laughter ripped from Wei Wuxian’s throat and filled the yard with its menacing aura, the air clashing aggressively with its creepy echo. The sound of it was chilling to the bones and gut-wrenching; it broke through the low, tense and heavy fog but permeaned mid-air like it was corporeal.
“Who is taking sides here but yourself?” The parroted echo carried on a mockery, voice stuttering as his laughter splintered in amused chuckles. “Before bragging about, have you even seen who is at the other side of the finger you are pointing?”
At their stunned silence, he let out a miffed huff. His tone of voice felt stuck between anger and amusement with a tad of misery, the mixed feelings evading through the deep wrinkles between his eyebrows.
“You surely have quite the high opinion of yourself…” his eyes briefly scanned the crowd before they narrowed in on one person, studying him. “Moreover, it is quite interesting that those who are speaking up now against some innocuous survivors are the same who delayed partaking the frontal line of the resistance. Some examples you are.”
His words earned a loud response of complain and unanimous clacks of teeth from said handful of young men who knew better than to openly argument with him about something they could hardly object against. But not all of them were as thoughtful.
In that moment, Lanling Jin’s Second Young Master, Jin Zixun, came into view. He snorted loudly at his statement, stepping in the scene with a bastard scowl on his face, amusement coating his honeyed tone.
“Aren't you the one overestimating himself, Wei Wuxian?”
Wei Wuxian hated starting conflicts and tried never to, but when Jin Zixun was involved in the equation, he struggled not to.
He owed him too much.
Hadn’t it been for him, things could have gone entirely different. Hadn’t he come to Qiongqi Path to kill him without any reason when instead he should have been a guest of the Lanling Clan to greet his nephew, to visit his Shijie, to see his brother-in-law— and meet Jin Zixuan he had, but the price to pay was too great.
So, it was no wonder he wanted that man as far from him as the world could do.
“Am I?” he retorted, the smile still there but tighter, far-fetched. His self-control quivered, resisting the provocation.
“I don’t think so. I’m just giving you a fair warning to stay away from them and don’t cause troubles for me or for yourself.” he continued, voice sharpening and eyes hardening. “I think it a fair request.”
“What is ‘fair’ in your request?” he inquired with a dry laughter. “Are you asking people to turn a blind eye to what the Wen have done to us!?”
His statement was echoed by many of those who earlier shouted their loud responses before Wei Wuxian silenced them with a few, well-placed words. The voice of the mass grew irritatingly louder— and so did Jin Zixun’s grin, lips quirked upward as he received an unspoken support.
A moment longer spent in silence was enough for people to speculate that Wei Wuxian had been silenced once and for all, unable to come up with a cunning response the way he usually did on the spot.
Indeed, when his body stiffened, a frown broadening across his face and breaking the perfect picture of indifference, his expression hardening by the second and his brows growing ticker as rage flared up, he took in a long, trembling breath. But the truth was quite different.
He was actually battling himself.
‘Your words won’t convince anyone. No one ever listens or trusts you. Wouldn’t it be easier to straight-up silence them and get it done with?’ the symphony of voices in his mind screamed, humiliating him and tempting his restrain. ‘They all loathe you, and none of them is worth a thing. Why keep them alive? Make them an example to those who oppose you.'
The hand holding on Chenqing shook violently as the resentful energy nestled in his body screamed with malevolence and revolted, bloodthirsty resentment stirring within his chest and lusting for blood, scratching at the corners of his mind with fakes promises of justice carved into others’ flesh. The background noise erupted from within and drowned out his thoughts, making it hard to think and breath unanimously.
Listen to us. You still deserve to be avenged. Burn them alive and scatter their ashes the same way they did to you after back-stabbing you. Don’t refuse us.
Wei Wuxian hastily shoved it down, teeth gritted and jaw tightly clenched.
Seeing him so unresponsive, the cultivators hiding among such a large crowd of people felt all rather safe there where they stood and shout out from.
Bravening up ahead of such back-up, Jin Zixun did not lose his chance. “Wei Wuxian, you always play the part of the selfless, virtuous one, but is this how you show respect toward Clan Leader Jiang!? By taking advantage of the undeserved position he granted you to boss people around!?”
And he tried, he genuinely tried to quell the frenetic beats of his heart and the pulsing rage contained within, but Wei Wuxian was exhausted in too many ways and was battling two wars at once. It was too much to ask.
“Have I not been clear enough!?” the voracious looks sent shivers running across people’s spine, more eyes narrowing in on him. “Clan Leader Jiang has nothing to do with this, the responsibility is all for me to take!”
He spoke like drops of venom slipped from the tip of his tongue, punctuating every word with his pointed tone and sharp eyes. “It is me who asks for the custody of these people out of gratitude, it is also my interest to find a shelter for them. Yunmeng Jiang won’t be involved in any of this should Clan Leader Jiang not wish so!”
Jin Zixun cracked a laugh, sounding smug while he actually looked sideways for support.
“Wei Wuxian, what an hypocrite you are. Speaking all mighty… and yet you recede when your own Clan Leader is mentioned. Aren’t you accusing him of being unjust now?”
He really won’t withdraw!
“The likes of you who ran from the war should not be allowed to have a say in any of this, Jin Zixun.”
He did not raise his tone (anger and fear were not to blame for the slight tremor of his voice), but his words were as needles, striking with the most devastating accuracy and building rage across the other’s face.
“Is it so odd of me to take responsibility? Does being part of a Clan means to you taking advantage of their power, their influence? The reason I did not ask for Clan Leader Jiang’s assistance is due to respect, which he has earned. Anyone else in his position would have given up the chance to conquer back their Clan, its honor and reputation— things which he did not.” he halted, took a moment to breath in and out, and turned to him with a less strained expression. “But… it is likely that such values and attributes are not commonplace to every Clan Leader.”
At his words, a furrow displayed across his fat face. “What does that mean?”
“From the look on your face, it figures you know whom I’m referring to. No names are needed mentioning.”
“Wei Wuxian!”
Bare and unrestrained fury flared across Jin Zixun’s face, his skin tight with grudge before it relaxed in a jeering look. “You say you fear nothing and no one, but aren’t you withdrawing now? You really love running that sharp tongue of yours. You criticize but shut your ears when others do the same to you, a demonic cultivator nonetheless, and then act all high and mighty when you are hardly more than the lowly son of a servant!”
Out of the blue, sparks of crimson struck his silver eyes like lightning across the dark sky— which had too damped and turned greyish, the sunlight smothered by an everlasting darkness.
Rage poured in and out of him in the form of black, thick waves of resentment, his fury and loss of restrain materializing in a hurricane. He clutched at his face and breathed an ample amount of oxygen when people started yelling at him in the background, some of them falling to their knees while others screamed at him to get in control.
It didn’t use to be as bad, but the resentment now literally pumped across his body through his veins, his breath coming short and freezing mid-air as he fought over in the throes of strong, raw emotions. Wei Ying gritted his teeth and clutched at his chest, swallowing hastily the lump of misery that was building in his throat, meanwhile trying to not choke at the feeling of hands grabbing at his organs and squeezing.
What is the need of this restrain of yours? Since when have you beared and tolerated people like him? Wei Wuxian, stop being stubborn and allow us to—
“Wei Ying.”
The soft call of his name pierced through the shrieks and loud yelling of a thousand tormented souls pounding in his head, winning over the despair and fears of his heart.
A rough, but equally gentle hand slipped between his own, and he flinched in both surprise and wonder— it’s been so long since he has been subjected to such a gentle caress, so different from the violent tug of unliving entities and from Wen Qing’s healing hands brushing over wounded skin.
Swiftly, Wei Wuxian’s blood-red eyes snapped up to trail the gentle hand to its owner, the crimson wearing off unanimous to the hurricane ceasing to exist, consumed by the soothing feeling seeping into his bones and restraining the storm of resentment within.
He might be beginning to understand why people started calling him Hanguang-Jun back then— this man really brought light everywhere he went, chasing off the most dense darkness. Even himself.
“I heard voices about your victory against Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, but now, everyone here is a witnesser of the true nature of your power, of the moster you have become. You have turned to demonic cultivation for your own gain but lack control of it. Truly, Wei Wuxian…”
He inhaled slowly, his face crunched up and his whole body trembling as he tried to adjust his severed breathing.
Jin Zixun did not feel quite satisfied yet. “They say you have enslaved two Wen-dogs, but have you done so with anyone else? I can see Second Young Master Lan is trying to help you regain control, but is it out of his own will? Or have you done anything at all to make him stand by you?”
In this world, in that moment, there were no other hurtful words he could have said to enrage Wei Wuxian as much as these did. Despite his attempts, the righteous, albeit subdued fury that burned in Wei Wuxian’s eyes grew of intensity and shape by the second, a crimson pond of blood staining the once unblemished silver of his eyes.
Lan Wangji was quick to notice how his breath quickened once more, how his eyes sparked red again, how black energy thrummed to life around him, and he spun around to give him his undivided attention, gaze narrowed in and hand tugging at his arm.
“Do not listen to him. Focus.”
Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth and obeyed. Eyes locked on Wangji’s - which looked like two solitary stars shimmering in the night blue sky, surrounded by a tender feeling of warmth - he took one deep breath in, and then one out...
Somehow, be it the grounding, familiar feeling of the touch, be it a consequence of the power Gusu Lan’s Second Young Master seemed to have over him, even his frosty aura felt like a healing balm to Wei Ying's hollow chest.
With another intake of breath, his lungs finally settled.
He wished regaining control over himself could always be this easy.
(Meanwhile, no one in the crowd dismissed the familiarity and intimacy of the lingering touch, nor the slight tilt on Lan Wangji’s unbothered face or his persistence to occupy his side despite the high threats coming from Jin Zixun.)
Jin Zixun huffed and scoffed, looking irked that he was being ignored. But the moment was curtly interrupted by another solemn entrance.
“What in the world is going on here?” Clan Leader Nie Mingjue stated as he strode over, a brief flick of his hand signaling those who had bowed to stand up. “Wei Wuxian, you might be welcomed as our esteemed guest, but I doubt that your friends over there are on the invitation list.”
Despite the loaming threat, Wei Wuxian greeted the approaching leader properly, with a respectful bow. If he wanted to show the cultivation world how unharmful and important assets those two were, his chance would be now or never.
“Clan Leader Nie, my intent was not to seem ungrateful. But as cultivators, we can’t just ignore those who are in need and deserving of our protection.” he stated, eyes flickering back and forth. “Before being Wen, they are people. They have been threatened into service by Wen Ruohan and thus despise him, just like the minor Clans we’ve joined hands with to defeat their former Clan Leader whom they rebelled against.”
Despite the firmness of his tone while he said this, he thought for a moment that he had messed up the timelines… but it didn’t really matter, did it? The fact that they sacrificed and risked a lot to help him (and his brother) and were innocent and innocuous was the unquestionable truth.
“Moreover, the people I am asking for are the Wen of the Dafan Mountain, an innocuous family of healers who have never brought any harm to anyone.”
This time, it was a disciple of the Jin Clan who questioned him. “How do you know their hands are not dirty? Those damned Wen are all the same, they can not be trusted. Give them an inch, and they will take a yard!”
“Aren’t you referring to yourself, spitting such accusing words?” he said suggestively, and the man’s face lit in outrage. “While you were sleeping in the safety of your residence, Wen Qing and Wen Ning rushed to Lotus Pier and saved me despite the state of captivity of their own family. They sacrificed more than you ever did.”
This time, the whispers rising from the crowd did not speak illy of him or condemn him of anything; instead, people looked more baffled and skeptic with every ticking second. Still, Jin Zixun could have no care in the world about Wei Wuxian’s near-death experience.
“As if anyone would believe the words of a wielder of resentful energy. Is there someone who can testify to such ridicule words!?”
For a long moment, no one in that field had the courage to disturb the quietness which had settled around them — all of them could see and, strangely, feel Wei Wuxian’s anger flare up, and guessed the man had spoken too much. Still, no one dared contradict either.
But Wei Wuxian was not intimidated, and he answered his question with honesty.
“No one can testify, I believe, given that all the witnesses have long perished at my hands.” it was the blatant truth, but the glimmer of red in his eyes gave a threatening edge to his words. “I believe Wen Chao would have rejoyced at the chance to share all about how he caught the ‘traitors’ who helped the enemy and then threw us in the depth of the Burial Mounds when he got tired of playing.”
The voices of the crowd grew considerably louder across the entire length of the camp, more looking baffled and skeptic by the minute. The only reaction he cared about though was the jolt of suprise coming right by his side from Lan Wangji, his hand clenching more tightly around his own - wait, why were they still holding hands?? - and his face twisted in distress.
“The Burial Mounds?” they echoed, and Wei Wuxian briefly locked eyes with a wide-eyed Hanguang-Jun, who seemed to be putting pieces of an invisible puzzle together.
“This is a bald-faced lie!” someone rebuked, another unknown voice rallying strength from the assertiveness and loud support of the crowd to speak up, lacking yet the guts to step out and make themselves known to everyone present. “No one ever left the Burial Mounds alive, who would believe you!?”
“Of course you wouldn’t, and to make reason with you all is like waiting for Hell to freeze over.” his biting successfully silenced him, and he kept on talking, looking not so pleased, just pissed.
“I don’t care if you don’t trust me, I’m used to my words being lost to the ear according to benefit. But would you believe me if I said I have a method to rescind Wen Ruohan’s power over the Yin Metal? Or would you carelessly dismiss that as a lie as well?”
Just like he expected, his words instantly aroused a round of surprised gasps, and right at that time no one had the braveness to bicker with him when the matter had turned so serious. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue shared a look before the latter stepped forward, eyes narrowed with suspicious wonder. “Wei Wuxian, are you speaking the truth?”
“Just like I anticipated, now you’re indulging me.” his chuckle was humoreless, bitter. “Fine, let it be this way.”
He whipped around to face Nie Mingjue once again, addressing him formally. “Since you look the most reasonable one of all, Clan Leader Nie, I’ll speak my proposal to you.”
The man called into question drew his brows together in a mist of wonder and distrust, but despite the shouts of warning growing loud behind his back not to trust such evil creature, he told him to speak his mind.
“As long as you permit Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s safe stay, and let them and their harmless family in my custody, I will share with all the solution I came up with to counterattack Wen Ruohan’s Yin Metal.”
If he could protect them from the very beginning and act before Jin Guangshan started pretending to rule over anyone and claim for himself the easy task to eliminate defenceless Wens… then it would be a huge step forward.
Once again, the crowd, “Are you spourting nonsense again!?”
But Wei Wuxian’s patience had finally reached its limit. “Do not speak if you have no guts to come out in the open and shout your name at once!”
Nie Mingjue scanned the heads of his people with silent delight, as if actually waiting for someone to come out after hearing such a threat coming their way, but the result was obviously disappointing— no one dared to show themselves before the Yiling Patriarch after they’d just badmouthed him.
“Okay then. Let’s hear this proposal of yours first.”
But Wei Wuxian relented, never as trusting. “I shall warn you before we start. For this method to succeed, and I believe you know so already, I am to be a part of it.”
“I had guessed as much.”
“And for me to cooperate…” he trailed off, but Nie Mingjue had long anticipated his words.
He drew out a loud, exasperated sigh. “As long as you share your strategy with us and join the Campaign without ulterior motives, we won’t harm your friends. Just…” he stilled, eyeing them with a swift, stern look. “keep them out of sight. I can’t control everyone here.”
Wei Wuxian smiled, although it did’t quite reach his eyes. He also felt Wen Qing exhale the breath she had been holding until then and hug her brother close in happy comfort.
“It’s a deal then.”
Not bothering to receive his bow, Clan Leader Nie turned on his heel and walked back from where he came, silently declaring that he was letting him be until the moment of the strategic discussion eventually came, deeming him trustworthy for the time being.
As the whispers faded away and the crowd finally dispersed, Wei Wuxian turned around, facing Lan Wangji.
He was not sure why or how, but the sight of the boy - looking at him with a mix of concern and curiousity - had the tight frown on his face demolish as a tiny smile took its place, his breath coming out less shaky.
(Maybe his odd reactions to Lan Wangji being nearby were linked to their history in his youthful time, to the relentless teasing he reserved for Gusu Lan’s Second Young Master… maybe this connection was why he felt so relaxed and at ease around him. That feeling of lightness he evoked must be nostalgia, because the sight of him sparked the memory of the old, mischievous shrad of his soul that had perished long ago.)
“Thank you, Lan Zhan.” he said, hinting a smile, and Lan Wangji nodded, though he looked oddly restrained. Still, he did not move from where he was standing, looking as though he didn’t want to be the one to force the two of them apart.
Wei Wuxian believed that it wouldn’t take anything to either of them if he asked him the simple question that buzzed in his mind for a while. And so he tried.
“Lan Zhan, did your Clan Lan recently develop a new technique to subdue resentment up-close?” he asked in a serene tone, but he was answered with an incredulous, worried arch of brows.
“We did not.”
It was Wei Wuxian’s turn to look confused. “Then how do yo—”
But before he could complete the question, a disciple from the Jiang Clan rushed in and quickly alerted Wei Wuxian, as well as Wen Qing and Wen Ning, that Clan Leader Jiang had invited them to join him inside his room.
At the interruption, Wei Wuxian pursed his lips and gave up his question, bowing respectfully to Lan Wangji— missing the loud objection that swirled across his face, painfully clear.
“Nevermind, ignore my words. Thank you again for your help.” he wavered upon straightening up, tilted his head and saluted. “See you, Lan Zhan.”
Tilting his lips in a dismissing smile, he finally turned around, leaving behind a very baffled-looking and mostly worried Lan Wangji to stare after his back and bear a hole in his skin there where his eyes locked. In a short time, he turned around and left, his posture impeccable but shoulders slightly slumped forward.
Wei Wuxian let out a sigh when he felt his stare disappear, sulking there for a moment as his body relaxed— in comparison, quite odd was the feeling of his chest constricting as if he were in pain, but any question his brain made up was quickly silenced by the sight of Wen Qing and Wen Ning offering him a polite kowtow in thanks.
“What are you being so polite for?” he hushed with urgency, encouraging both to drop formalities and locking eyes with Wen Qing once she straightened up. She was never so pliant and courteous. “It is scary if you do it. It doesn’t fit you.”
All of a sudden, Wen Qing’s expression of gratitude twisted into a furrow resembling her usual strong and watchful attitude. Wei Wuxian huffed briefly, retreating into his steps.
“That’s more like it.”