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Days pass and seem to blur together, after everything is finally over. Normalcy is a feeling that had long been lost, Wei Ying’s absence an ever present weight even after a decade. After too many years paced by loss, power hunger and revenge schemes, the aftermath is peaceful - as peaceful as night-hunting all over the land can go - and it's all Lan Wangji could ever wish for.
He tries to savor it as much as possible, tries not to think too much about it.
Because when he does, all of it - their prostrates, each sweet word exchanged, every night falling asleep in each other's arms and every morning awakening side by side - all of it feels too good to be true, and Lan Wangji fears. It stays asleep low in his stomach most of the time, this ever present fear - that all of it is just a product of his imagination, a helpless dream.
That is, until Wei Ying reminds him that it's not a dream - because if everything was up to Lan Wangji, Wei Ying would never hurt ever again.
Some things never change, even though so many things did; Wei Ying's entire body is different, unfamiliar. There are times Lan Wangji doesn't know exactly how to feel about it; instances such as now, Wei Ying sitting in front of him, and Lan Wangji combing hair that isn't exactly the same color as the boy Lan Wangji fell in love with, almost two decades ago.
Today's Wei Ying is smaller, thinner than the Wei Ying from before. He talks the same way, but his voice is different. The numerous scars that were covering his body are nowhere to be found, replaced by foreign ones. He looks so young - as if time had stopped its course for him, whereas it kept flowing ruthlessly, agonizingly slow for Lan Wangji himself.
Yet, he's still Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji loves him. He loves the way this Wei Ying fits into his arms, how his voice sounds saying his name. He loves that this body hasn't been hurt the way his original one has been, even though most of these scars must have been deep enough to cut past his skin and etch onto his soul.
He loves him, even though it sort of feels like a betrayal toward Wei Ying's original body, sometimes; he loves him, even though this appearance is a constant reminder of everything that has happened, that Lan Wangji failed to protect him once, and it still hurts.
But he's still Wei Ying, and some things never change.
Unfortunately, one of these things is Wei Ying's tendency to get in trouble and general disregard of his own safety.
"Do not move," he instructs when Wei Ying reaches for his red ribbon with his good hand. Lan Wangji fetches in his stead and starts working on his ponytail himself.
"Ah, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying complains yet again. "You're even worse than my Shijie, and Heaven knows that she was a real mother hen."
Jiang Yanli didn't watch you destroy yourself to the point that even your soul vanished, Lan Wangji wants to defend, but he remains silent.
Wei Ying fidgets a bit before him. "Lan Zhan," he calls softly. "Are you mad at me?"
Lan Wangji isn't mad at him. He's mad at himself - for failing to protect him once again, for freezing, overcome by sheer panic when watching Wei Ying's arm get almost crushed and his face twist in pain. For thus causing Wei Ying to have to get back into the fight too fast and worsening his injury. For all the shameful thoughts that have been filling his mind once more - this urge to grab Wei Ying and lock him up somewhere safe so that he never feels pain again.
Even though Wei Ying could never live that way; even though he's not something fragile that Lan Wangji could hide and keep for himself. The thoughts are still there, ugly and too frequent for comfort.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying sighs softly when he doesn't reply. "It's just a broken arm."
It's not just a broken arm. It's the fact that Wei Ying doesn't care, and Lan Wangji is terrified. He finishes tying his hair, and with a sigh of his own, leans forward, pressing his forehead against the back of his neck.
"Ever since you are back," Lan Wangji breathes, too ashamed to speak any louder. "You have been whipped. You fainted twice. You were stabbed, then threatened to be beheaded," he enumerates. "And you have broken an arm."
Lan Wangji knows it's unfair, and most of these instances weren't under Wei Ying's control at all. Still, still. Lan Wangji is terrified.
Wei Ying doesn't reply right away. "It really isn't a big deal."
"It is," Lan Wangji grits, unable to accept this disregard. He barely recognizes the hardness in his own voice; he sounds like he did when he first met Wei Ying, confused and scared. He doesn't like it. He's not confused anymore - but he is ever so scared.
If Wei Ying doesn't care enough for his sake, can't he do it for mine? Lan Wangji can't bring himself to ask out loud, to admit his selfishness. He just wants Wei Ying to understand; Lan Wangji can't lose him again, he can't -
Wei Ying turns abruptly, and suddenly he's straddling Lan Wangji's lap, his good arm reaching for his face, and just like that, he's all Lan Wangji can see.
"Lan Zhan," he calls, smiling. "You're hardly in a position to talk about being careless," he says, his hand trailing down to press against his chest - over the brand burnt into his skin.
Lan Wangji looks away in shame. Wei Ying doesn't let him. "Lan Zhan, look at me," he demands. Then he reaches for the collar of his own robe, struggling to open it with a single hand until most of his torso is visible. Lan Wangji's hands jump to his waist on reflex, squeezing; that makes Wei Ying huffs a laugh.
"Er-gege, look at you," he pretends to complain. "Getting excited as soon as I get a little bit of skin showing."
It's not Lan Wangji's fault; it's very nice skin.
"Lan Zhan," he says more seriously. "I understand how you feel- I understand that you don't like it not because you think I can't take it, but because- it reminds you of all this." Lan Wangji swallows, throat tightening just with the thought of... all this. "But look at this body," he asks, taking one of Lan Wangji's hands and pressing it to his chest, above his heart. "In this life, I didn't jump in front of a branding iron," then, hand sliding down to his belly, "and I didn't go through a hazardous golden-core surgery either. Among other things."
He lets Lan Wangji trace the unscarred skin bellow his navel, then move to the area around his stab wound; the skin is still a little sensitive. Lan Wangji gives him a pointed look when he hisses slightly, and Wei Ying pouts, “Doesn’t count.”
He continues, "This body- I'm painfully aware of how much weaker it is, compared to my original one. I get it, so- I won't be reckless. I know what's at stake - I don't intend on dying again, believe me. And if I take some risks still," he adds, and smiles when Lan Wangji makes a disapproving face. "It's because I know that I'm not alone. The great Hanguang Jun has my back."
"Mn," Lan Wangji hums quietly after a while, even though he thinks, but what if I fail again, what if I'm not enough, what if-
"Shh," Wei Ying says nonetheless, pressing his thumb between Lan Wangji's brows, probably tugged in a frown. "Don't think too much about it. Point is, I learned my lesson. I need you to trust me on this, okay?"
Lan Wangji breathes in, breathes out.
"Mn," he acquiesces at last; he's still scared, of course. But he can do this, he can trust Wei Ying. He’ll do his best.
"Good boy," Wei Ying praises with a kiss on his forehead, making him shudder. "I do feel a bit regretful that we missed the chance to have a matching scar though," he adds, pouting. "Should I get myself a branding iron?"
"No," Lan Wangji counters immediately, and Wei Ying laughs. Then, childishly, he adds, "Wei Ying can't get hurt ever again."
"We both know that's not gonna happen," Wei Ying doesn't humor him. "But it's fine. I get what Jin Guangyao said, now," he admits softly, cheeks a lovely pink when he says, "I won't play with your life."
Lan Wangji's life - Wei Ying's life.
*
The morning after they finish taking care of their last case, they come back to help bring the victims’ bodies they could find back to the village, for their loved ones to bury properly. It takes some time, but many families are grateful and offer them lunch as a thanks.
When they depart, Lan Wangji catches sight of some villagers burning joss paper before the row of bodies waiting to be taken care of - almost as a repayment for the delay, asking the souls to wait for a bit longer.
Wei Ying seems to think about it afterwards. Sure enough, when all is done and they're back at their inn, he calls, "Lan Zhan."
"Mn," Lan Wangji replies to let him know he has his full attention - even though Wei Ying should know he always has it.
"You never answered," he starts, sounding like he's thinking out loud. "Did you really not burn any paper money for me?"
Lan Wangji pauses for a moment, a sudden weight in his throat. It's always instantaneous, his body's reaction whenever he even thinks about it - about that time. That’s why he tries so hard not to think about it.
There's no need to think about it anymore, not when Wei Ying is here with him.
"I did not," he admits. He has the excuse of tending to Bichen not to look at Wei Ying.
"Ah, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying laments dramatically behind him. "Even though you were the only one on my side back then! Even though we had gone through life and death together already!" he continues, wrapping himself over Lan Wangji's back. Then, against the skin of his nape, quieter: "How could you act so cold."
"Not dead," the words escape Lan Wangji in a whisper. He can hear the deep, slow exhale Wei Ying lets out, can feel the press of his chest against his back.
Wei Ying holds him a bit tighter. "But I was," he says gently after a while. If he feels Lan Wangji's whole body tense in his arms, he doesn't say anything; only presses a soft kiss on his neck, as if to console him. It does not really work, but Lan Wangji accepts the gesture gratefully regardless. "I really was, Lan Zhan."
"Not dead," Lan Wangji repeats, putting his everything into these two words.
But how could you know that, Wei Ying doesn't ask. How could you be sure? What if I didn't come back? What would have you done then? Would you have kept waiting?
Yes, Lan Wangji doesn't answer. Lan Wangji is good at waiting, so he would have - because it's the only thing he could have done. Just like so many years ago, in front of this house, under his brother's saddened gaze. He would have waited. He did wait.
It's easy now, to pretend it was just blind faith; Wei Ying is not a man so easy to get rid of. Of course, of course he'll come back. It was just a matter of time, because that's who Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch is; even death cannot hold him down. Just like Jiang Wanyin kept hunting down every demonic cultivator he could find, expecting to find Wei Ying at some point. Surely.
It had nothing to do with Lan Wangji not being able to accept he was gone, nothing to do with his inability to grieve properly. Nothing to do with the truth that he didn't have the excuse of being six anymore, couldn't pretend not to quite grasp what gone or forever meant - and still, again and again, denied it. Even when the body was gone. Even when the soul was gone.
Sitting on the front porch and counting gentians, waiting.
Feeding rabbits and watching children grow into teenagers, waiting.
Waiting for an easy smile, for his name to be called. Surely.
Lan Wangji is good at waiting. He is also good at lying to himself.
He's pulled out of his own head by Wei Ying taking hold of Bichen, discarding it somewhere behind him before slipping onto Lan Wangji's lap in its place. "I'm not," he agrees with uncharacteristic quietness, reaching for Lan Wangji's face with gentle hands.
"I'm not," Wei Ying repeats against his lips, and Lan Wangji decides that he doesn't want to talk anymore, or even think about it or anything that isn't kissing Wei Ying, who is here - who's alive, who's his.
*
Wei Wuxian doesn't remember much about death - just a feeling like floating, with no grasp of time or space at all. This feeling of nothingness had been blissful. No thinking, no remembering, no loss nor hatred.
Wei Wuxian doesn't remember much about death, but he knows that he hadn't wanted to come back from it.
Still, now that he's been forced back - even after everything, he can't bring himself to regret being alive again. Not with Lan Zhan clinging onto his body, pressing against his back and holding tightly as he falls asleep, like he couldn't bear not being close for a single instant.
Lan Zhan has changed, he's realized.
This Lan Zhan is stronger, of course, but he's also more honest. He doesn't pretend to hate it when Wei Wuxian gets too close - instead, relishes in it. Unlike a long time ago, Wei Wuxian couldn't mistake these feelings for something like hatred even if he were blind. This Lan Zhan loves and cares, without ever asking for anything in return, so much it's overwhelming at times.
This Lan Zhan has been hurt deeply, in many ways. Wounds that have been left open for too long not to leave a scar. Wei Wuxian did that to him.
(It's not your fault, Lan Zhan always says when he knows Wei Wuxian's eyes linger on the scars covering his back. These were the consequences of my own actions.
Did it hurt, Wei Wuxian would ask sometimes, instead of saying that his actions were all for his sake - because he loved him, even though Wei Wuxian didn’t deserve it.
And even though Lan Zhan never humors him with a reply, Wei Wuxian knows what he'd said if he did.
Not as much as losing you.)
This Lan Zhan is afraid, fear clear as day and etched in too many of his stares, in the ever present urgency he has to reach, make sure Wei Wuxian is something tangible and breathing. Although the scars on his back have long since healed, the same can't be said for the one in his heart; Wei Wuxian is not sure it ever can.
He's well aware that some wounds can't be treated by even the most talented doctor; Wen Qing did try.
As for Wei Wuxian, things haven't changed much - a result of years lost into the abyss of death. Thinking, remembering - it's still almost too painful to bear.
Wei Wuxian bears it still, and Lan Zhan - with his long fingers tangled in his hair and his soft exhales against the skin of his nape, makes it a little bit easier.
*
As usual, dinner comes in the form of various plates with dishes the color of blood. Even the smell itself is strong, but Lan Wangji is getting used to it. He has to.
Except, this time -
"And here's the special order for this Young Master," the inn lady declares, setting down a few more plates looking suspiciously… normal. Lan Wangji is pretty sure he can even spot tofu; he stares.
"Thank you for accommodating, m'am," Wei Ying singsongs easily, already grabbing a plate - one containing lava-looking sauce, if you ask him. He throws Lan Wangji a smirk, still, something familiar and secretive. The lady leaves, and Lan Wangji is still staring.
Wei Ying has noticed, and now he wants to repay him. He shouldn't; Lan Wangji doesn't mind. As long as Wei Ying likes the food, he could even be content just watching him eat, feeding on his enjoyment.
He doesn't have to do this. It's Lan Wangji's role to take care of him, to make sure he-
"Lan Er-Gege," Wei Ying's voice comes again through a mouthful. No talking while eating, Lan Wangji doesn't say. He has given up a long time ago, but old habits. "I can hear your thoughts from here."
It always scares Lan Wangji a bit when Wei Ying does that; he wishes his shameful, pitiful thoughts could stay securely in his mind as long as he doesn't speak them. But Wei Ying never lets them stay hidden.
"Shut up and eat your boring food, it's getting cold," he says with finality, pointing his chopsticks at Lan Wangji menacingly. Lan Wangji watches him eat for a while, ranting about delicate palates and the bad habits given to the Juniors, and I'll make lotus root and spare ribs soup for you, one day, you'll see- no, no chili, I promise.
Lan Wangji grabs his chopsticks, shuts up and eats his boring food. Wei Ying smiles at him from behind his bowl; the food tastes deliciously mild.
*
It's still completely dark when Wei Wuxian is pulled away from the sweet embrace of sleep.
He would have complained, if not for the barely visible silhouette of Lan Zhan beside him, set in a sitting position, shoulders moving slowly with deep breaths.
Wei Wuxian is about to ask what's wrong when he hears the shaky exhales, the loud gulps, the aborted sounds coming from Lan Zhan's throat.
Lan Zhan is trying not to wake him up.
Sometimes, Wei Wuxian really wished Lan Zhan would talk more. There's only so much mind reading he's capable of, even after all this time. And at times like this, he wished Lan Zhan would not endure everything on his own, would rely on him a bit - even just to seek comfort after a nightmare.
But Lan Zhan doesn't wake him up; instead, he pats the mattress between them blindly, with a trembling hand. He finds Wei Wuxian's arm, fingers cold against his own skin. They gently trail down to his wrist, and hold.
He's feeling for a pulse, Wei Wuxian realizes. He exhales deeply when he finds it.
Wei Wuxian reaches for his hand. Lan Zhan freezes, probably ashamed of being caught. His stupid, stupid, precious husband. He lets his hand wander up, up, up - until it finds Lan Zhan's neck, where his skin is warmer.
He traces his collarbone softly in what he hopes feels like a reassurance, and guides him gently - down to settle against his chest. Lan Zhan slowly relaxes with the sounds of his heartbeat right against his ear.
"I'm here," Wei Wuxian whispers into the night, because it somehow feels like Lan Zhan still has a hard time believing it. It's okay, Wei Wuxian will just keep reminding him. With fingers brushing through Lan Zhan's long, untied hair, he says, "Go back to sleep, Lan Zhan."
After a moment, Lan Zhan breathes, "Heavy," but does not make a move. Wei Wuxian smiles against the top of his head.
"Mh-hmn" he denies, cradling him a bit tighter to prove his point. "Perfect."
Wei Wuxian feels his soft exhales against his chest settle, and thinks that's it.
But as he's halfway back into the world of the dreams, Lan Zhan calls a soft, "Wei Ying."
"Hm?"
Wei Wuxian waits, but nothing comes. He feels Lan Zhan open his mouth, then give up with an exhale.
But this time, it's alright. Even if Lan Zhan doesn't talk, Wei Wuxian knows already.
No thank yous between them. I love yous don't require any words; Wei Wuxian can feel it in every single of Lan Zhan's gaze, in every breath he takes.
He can only hope Lan Zhan feels it too. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian will do the talking.
"I love you, Lan Zhan," he whispers with a press of his lips against his forehead. Lan Zhan almost physically melts against him. "Goodnight."
*
Lan Wangji wakes up to an empty, too cold bed.
Already, everything is wrong. Wei Ying is always in bed when he wakes up, complaining about Lan Wangji systemically waking at five every morning like clockwork. He would grumble and hide under the covers, and try to seduce Lan Wangji into staying in bed longer, and Lan Wangji would act as if it isn't the thing he wants most in the world.
But Wei Ying is not there. A heavy feeling of dread already settles deep in his stomach, threatening to crawl up and clog his throat.
Where is he? When did he leave- how come Lan Wangji didn't realize? Now that he thinks about it, the sky is too bright - what time is it? What is happening, why was he still sleeping? What if, what if-
Lan Wangji is out of bed so fast he almost gives himself a whiplash, then realizes that the world is spinning a little, for some reason. He finds his over robes easily nonetheless, throwing it on himself messily and not caring to actually tie it properly. It's cold. He wants to find Wei Ying, make sure he's okay.
His forehead ribbon lies abandoned on the table, and Lan Wangji can't care about it, not when he doesn't know where Wei Ying is, if he's alright- but it still catches his eyes, and he trips on the hem of his unruly robe and stumbles against the bookshelf, feeling oddly unbalanced. A few books tumble down with a loud noise, and suddenly, Lan Wangji realizes - he's in the Jingshi.
He pauses for a second, trying to will his breathing to slow.
He's in the Jingshi - he's back at the Cloud Recesses.
And Wei Ying is not there.
Is that it? Has the day finally come?
The day he wakes up and realizes that the loneliness and loss and guilt and hatred finally made him lose his senses, and all of this - Wei Ying, alive, with him, his beating heart and his warm body and even warmer laughs - all of this, was just Lan Wangji's foolish, desperate delusions?
He's thought about it- of course he's thought about it. Too good to be true, he's told himself again, and again. He should have known; only his heartbreak induced dreaming could change a get lost into I love you so easily.
Wei Ying is gone. He’s been gone for a long time - such a long time.
And even if he wasn't, he certainly wouldn't be with Lan Wangji.
But it'd be fine by him, if at least he was alive. Even if Lan Wangji was only allowed to look at him from afar. Even if he let Lan Wangji stay by his side because he needed him for protection or money, even if Lan Wangji had to bear his teasings that mean nothing else. As long as Wei Ying is…
"Lan Zhan?"
The breath catches in Lan Wangji's tightened throat. When he looks up from the floor, his vision is still unfocused, but he can make Wei Ying's worried face perfectly. He hadn't even heard anyone entering the room.
"Ah, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying calls again, and Lan Wangji realizes once again that his name, being called by this voice, is his favorite music. Wei Ying is looking bothered, though, his tone reprimanding. "Why are you out of bed?" he sighs, coming to help Lan Wangji to stand - he hadn't even noticed he was still clutching at the bookshelf for dear life. "Lan Zhan ah Lan Zhan, I leave for ten minutes and-"
Lan Wangji pulls him into his chest and buries his face into his hair. He smells of sandalwood, and his heart beats against his own chest; Lan Wangji didn't cry when he appeared before him for the first time, playing their song, so he won't cry this time either.
"You are here," he remarks simply, still in wonder - still not quite sure he should believe it.
"Of course I am," Wei Ying replies in a gentle voice. "Where else could I be?"
Lan Wangji doesn't say anything more, just tightens his arms around his shoulders, presses his face deeper. Wei Ying lets him.
They hold each other silently for a long moment, before Wei Ying sighs softly. "Lan Zhan, let's put you back to bed, hm?" he says quietly, pressing his lips on Lan Wangji's neck. Lan Wangji follows.
Once he's laying back in bed, Wei Ying brings a careful hand to his forehead; his fingers are a stark cold against his skin. "Your fever has gone up again," Wei Ying declares with a sigh. He stands from his bedside, saying, "Don't move, I'll get you some water-"
Lan Wangji moves before he even realizes, grabbing at his wrist. His hold is probably too weak to stop him, but Wei Ying does halt.
"Do not leave," Lan Wangji croaks pitifully.
"I won't," Wei Ying assures immediately, crouching back down. He gently detaches his own wrist from Lan Wangji's grasp, and brings this hand to his lips, speaking against it. "I'm right here," he says, and punctuates it with a few kisses - on the back of his hands, on his knuckles.
Then, directed somewhere behind him, he calls, "Sizhui, you still there?"
Lan Sizhui's voice comes muffled from behind the door. "Yes, Senior Wei!"
"Can you come here and bring me some water?"
There's a moment of silence. "I- I am not allowed to enter the Jingshi, Senior-"
"Sizhui, your dad is dying," Wei Ying then declares seriously, and Lan Wangji chokes a cough. The door slides open, letting a concerned Lan Sizhui appear, eyes wide.
"H-Hanguang Jun-" he laments, and Wei Ying puffs.
"Not dying," Lan Wangji groans, and Wei Ying laughs some more looking at Lan Sizhui's embarrassed face. He fetches the water gourd from the junior's hand, and helps Lan Wangji drink from it, even though he doesn't really need his help. It still feels nice.
Then, Lan Sizhui bows. "I'm sorry," he says. "If I had known Hanguang Jun was feeling ill, I wouldn't have invited you to this night-hunt, and made everything worse-"
"Tsk tsk," Wei Ying is quick to interrupt. "It's your Hanguang Jun who decided to go anyway," he rolls his eyes, and with a light flick on his forehead, he adds, "Serves him right!"
That makes Lan Sizhui's stare fall on the upper part of his face, watching with some sort of fascination. Lan Wangji understands when Wei Ying gets up fast enough that he can't complain, letting go of his hand only for the seconds it takes to get to the table, and comes back with his ribbon.
"Lan Zhan, showing yourself naked in front of the kid, aren't you ashamed?" Wei Ying jokes, offering his ribbon, but Lan Wangji just pushes his hand away, feeling heat rise to his ears.
It's family, after all, he doesn't say. Wei Ying smiles at him softly, hearing it nonetheless. Lan Wangji thinks he feels the corners of his own lips tug up a bit.
But it causes Lan Sizhui to start fussing again. "Hanguang Jun! Are you, maybe, really sick?! Are you-"
"A-Yuan, don't worry, he's fine," Wei Ying assures softly. "With such a great nurse as myself, he'll be better in no time!" he adds, and Lan Sizhui nods softly, a small smile on his lips.
"Then, Senior Wei, I'll leave him to your care," he says formally with a bow, and Wei Ying huffs.
"Leave it to me. It's my fault, really, I guess Hanguang Jun is not getting enough sleep-"
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji grits, even if he knows he's just doing that to give Lan Sizhui an excuse to leave.
Effectively, Lan Sizhui does take his leaves, red in the face. Lan Wangji sighs, but then Wei Ying presses a soft kiss on his bare forehead, and once all the panic has finally left his body, sleeping some more doesn't sound too bad.
If all of this is a dream, Lan Wangji can only wish not to wake up.
*
They don't stay at the Cloud Recesses for long - just long enough for Sect Leader Jin Ling to pay a visit. Busy with his newly acquired responsibilities, he doesn't get to spend much time with the Lan juniors, but they've been corresponding by letters, apparently.
Lan Wangji finds it quite cute, but doesn't say as much out loud.
Of course, if Sect Leader Jin Ling so happens to come all the way to Gusu to invite the juniors to a night-hunt in Yunmeng, it has absolutely nothing to do with their presence here - is what he says. Lan Wangji understands, though - he knows Wei Ying would be insufferable if his nephew so much as implied he wanted to see him.
Lan Wangji takes the time to pay his brother a visit before departing.
He is still in seclusion, so Lan Wangji doesn't enter, simply kneels in front of the Hanshi when he speaks, "Brother."
Lan Huan's voice comes tired and subdued when he answers, "Wangji," but as warm as it's always been. It pains Lan Wangji a bit. He wishes he could see him. "Wangji, have you been well?"
"I have," Lan Wangji replies honestly. He's been doing better. He doesn't ask how his brother has been doing; he knows.
"That's good, Wangji," he hears Lan Huan say with a smile in his voice. "That's good."
They keep quiet for a short moment, before he calls again, "Brother. There's something I need to tell you."
His brother pauses, sensing that it is important. "I'm listening."
"I," he starts, but hesitates. He doesn't really know how to do it, doesn't know how his brother will react. But he needs to tell him; it is important. He wants to tell him. "Wei Ying," he starts again. "Wei Ying has become my cultivation partner."
His brother stays silent. Then, after a while, Lan Wangji hears some shuffling noises coming from inside, and the door of Hanshi abruptly slides open before him. His brother is there, on his knees as well, regarding him with an expression Lan Wangji is not sure how to interpret.
After a while, Lan Huan says, "You mean... you..."
"Mm," Lan Wangji gives a small nod. "We prostrated. We…" he starts, feeling oddly embarrassed. “Mm.”
Lan Wangji doesn't dare to look at his brother's face when he says it. He's not sure how he expects him to react; he knows Lan Huan's been blaming Wei Ying, wrongly, for a lot of Lan Wangji's hurting – when really, it's never been his fault, if Lan Wangji's been desperately in love with him for a long time.
"Wangji," his brother calls softly, and Lan Wangji finally looks up. He finds him smiling so very warmly. "I'm very happy for you," he says, and he sounds the most genuine. "Congratulations."
Hugging is not a thing, in the Gusu Lan Sect. Lan Wangji has never hugged his brother. So perhaps it's because of the easy proximity he's been sharing with Wei Ying lately, but Lan Wangji has never felt such an urge to take his brother into his arms before.
He holds himself back, still, and just bows his head in gratitude.
"Wangji, if- if you don't mind waiting for a bit," his brother adds then. "Just the time for me to- to get better," he says, sounding shameful. He shouldn't, Lan Wangji understands needing time. "I'd like to organize a proper ceremony for you two- nothing big, just a small banquet maybe, just- just to make things official. Would you like that?"
Lan Wangji blinks. To make it official; he thinks he'd like that. He thinks Wei Ying would also like that – even if just to try and send their uncle into qi deviation.
"Mn," Lan Wangji agrees simply, not sure how else to convey his feelings. His brother looks at him for a long time, face openly warm and proud.
"A-Zhan," he calls then, and it's been so long since Lan Wangji's been called that. "Be happy now, will you?"
Lan Huan asks this almost like a favor. Like he's been waiting for this. Like he's relieved. Lan Wangji is very grateful for having been given a brother like him.
"I will," Lan Wangji promises him. "I am."
His brother nods; Lan Wangji bows again, in thanks and as a farewell, for now.
*
While they're staying at Yunmeng, a letter comes for Wei Ying. Sect Leader Jin Ling coughs and looks away, doing a bad job at pretending it has nothing to do with him.
The letter is from Jiang Wanyin. Lan Wangji tries not to frown at the sight of it, but probably is as transparent as Sect Leader Jin Ling, seeing as Wei Ying grabs his hand under the table and squeezes reassuringly.
The letter is quite short.
'I can't believe you got fucking married without telling anyone,' it reads. 'Good for you, I guess. Not that I care.'
Lan Wangji huffs; everything about this letter offends him.
'At least come announce it to Jie yourself,' it reads finally. 'Don't bring him though.'
Needless to say, Lan Wangji is not happy with this letter at all.
Lan Wangji lets Wei Ying go by himself, in the end. Because he knows - even if Wei Ying and Jiang Wanyin have hurt each other too much and that their bond may have been damaged past repair - Wei Ying misses his brother. Jiang Wanyin reached out; even if it can never go back to how it was between them, maybe with some care and some patience, they can mend their relationship, little by little.
So with a promise of being back before dark, Lan Wangji lets him go.
The first hours pass in a slow daze, like he’s holding his breath. He catches himself looking toward the general direction Wei Ying had left a few times, has to shake himself out of it again and again. Pathetic, he scolds himself.
He hadn’t realized he’s never been separated from Wei Ying for more than a few hours since they had met again. A full day feels like an eternity.
Can’t leave you, they had told each other; it wasn’t supposed to be true to this extent.
Thankfully, the kids are lively, and probably sensing that he’s at a loss, they do succeed at diverting his attention.
Sect Leader Jin Ling proves to be a resourceful kid, and is pretty skillful with a bow already - even if Lan Jingyi almost loses his life to an arrow more than once. Lan Wangji is reminded of his father, Jin Zixuan. He recalls the archery competition many years ago, and shakes his head.
They’re loud - Sect Leader Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi. Lan Sizhui stays calm and unperturbed at their side, apparently used to it.
And then, there’s Wen Qionglin who’s been accompanying them quietly.
Lan Wangji appreciates Wen Qionglin. He doesn’t talk much and is soft-spoken when he does. He’s been staying by Wei Ying’s side for a long time, has been protecting him when Lan Wangji couldn’t. Lan Sizhui likes him, too.
Lan Wangji really does appreciate him.
He watches with attention when Lan Wangji makes the kids practice talismans; when they've done a good job, he teaches them Wei Ying’s speciality - the paper man.
They can’t control the paper silhouettes very far and very precisely yet, but they seem to have fun. At some point, Sect Leader Jin Ling loses control to a breeze, and his paper man catches on the tip of Lan Sizhui’s forehead ribbon. Lan Jingyi screams at him in offense and Sect Leader Jin Ling screams back because he’s flustered, and Lan Sizhui heaves a sigh before trying to calm them down.
Lan Wangji can’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh; this all feels familiar.
“Master Lan is good with kids,” Wen Qionglin says softly, standing beside him, not too far, not too close.
The statement surprises Lan Wangji. It makes Wen Qionglin smile - as much as he can with the hardened muscles of his face. He adds, “I can tell from what A-Yuan has told me, about growing up in Gusu Lan with Master Lan.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji doesn’t comment at first; it’s good that Lan Sizhui enjoyed his time at the Cloud Recesses. But it’s not entirely on Lan Wangji, so he has to clarify, “Lan Sizhui was a really good kid. It was not hard to raise him at all.”
Wen Qionglin makes a small noise that could very well be a huffed laugh. “A-Yuan used to be such a crybaby when he was little, he would always cry and cling to Master Wei’s leg," he recounts. "But he turned out to become a very reliable and collected young man.”
“Lan Sizhui never cried a lot in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji remarks.
“Mhh,” Wen Qionglin seems to think for a while. “Maybe he was trying to be like Master Lan, acting strong,” he reasons.
Lan Wangji reflects on it. “That is my bad," he admits. "I hope he will understand that it is natural, to be hurting sometimes,” he comments in an afterthought.
But Lan Sizhui is very mature, and unlike himself, he’s able to connect easily with people around him. He’s sure he’ll be alright; Lan Wangji is proud of him.
Wen Qionglin looks at him with something like excitement on his tense face, then. “Would Master Lan like for me to tell about young A-Yuan and Master Wei, back in the days?”
Lan Wangji looks at him in mild surprise again, then nods.
Wen Qionglin recounts many stories of their time in the Burial Mounts, while their group ventures deeper into the forest, the kids looking for pheasants to catch to entertain themselves.
It’s nice; Lan Wangji feels like he’s been let in on very dear memories, and it feels precious. He makes sure to thank Wen Qionglin, but the latter replies, “Master Lan doesn’t need to thank me.”
Maybe that’s what friendship feels like.
They end up finding a bunch of wild rabbits, and Lan Sizhui is absolutely adamant on not hunting them. “So Sizhui can scream,” Sect Leader Jin Ling comments.
Later, they stumble upon what seems to be a secluded tombstone, almost completely hidden by moss and wild flowers. Wen Qionglin cleans it a bit. It makes for good practice, so Lan Wangji suggests trying to use Inquiry.
Lan Sizhui complies, and manages to summon a spirit wandering nearby with his guqin. It’s a boy slightly younger than the juniors; Lan Jingyi and Sect Leader Jin Ling come up with questions, sometimes ridiculous, and Sizhui asks and translates with Lan Wangji’s help.
Lan Sizhui puffs quietly at some point. “Did he just- I think he called you ‘Young Mistress in yellow’,” he tells Sect Leader Jin Ling.
He turns to Lan Wangji for confirmation, who nods. Lan Jingyi screeches in laughter, while Sect Leader Jin Ling threatens, “Y-You brat! If you weren’t dead already, I’d-” before Lan Wangji silences him.
Then, somehow, before he realizes it, it’s almost dark.
When they get back to the inn, Wei Ying is already there, his wine jar half emptied.
He good-heartedly complains about the way Jiang Wanyin received him and shares the lotus seeds he collected with them all; then he listens and laughs at the juniors' stories about their day, with his head leaning on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.
Lan Wangji relinquishes their proximity after being away for an entire day, which still sounds like an eternity but somehow, somehow, proved to be manageable.
*
One night, Wei Ying pays for dinner with the money he's earned by selling some protective talismans. He looks very proud of himself, so Lan Wangji doesn't say anything, just pets the top of his head gently in acknowledgment.
Wei Ying preens.
*
They've found a small, abandoned house they've been staying at. It is perhaps only temporary, since there are quite a few strange cases to investigate in the area - perhaps not.
The house is in a remote, pretty quiet location. Wei Ying's been fixing the roof, Lan Wangji had built a new door. It gets quite cold at night, but they keep each other warm. They're still navigating how to cook food that suits both of their tastes.
When Lan Wangji comes back from the city with a basket full of vegetables, Wei Ying is immediately upon him, pulling at his arm excitedly.
"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, sit down," he instructs, so Lan Wangji does. "I've got a surprise for you."
Lan Wangji blinks. Probably seeing the curiosity on his face, Wei Ying laughs. "Close your eyes, come on."
He has never done this kind of thing before; he follows his lead still, closes his eyes, and waits. It feels a little bit exciting, he doesn't know what to expect.
Then, Wei Ying starts playing the flute.
Lan Wangji listens, eyes remaining closed.
The tune is unfamiliar. It starts very slow, almost tentative, then dips into nostalgia - a hint of regret. Midway through it, the melody turns into something sounding more delightful, a gentle bliss. Lan Wangji recognizes some parts taken from Wangxian - arranged in a way that makes it comforting rather than wishful.
Where Wangxian was of yearning and hopes and a little bit of despair, this sounds like an aftermath; it feels like coming home after a terribly long journey. Feels like a lullaby- like falling asleep in the embrace of a loved one. Feels like everything is alright, now, at last.
It feels like Wei Ying's I love yous, fills the gaping hole that's been stubbornly refusing to close in his chest, just a little.
Wei Ying finishes playing, and Lan Wangji keeps his eyes closed for a moment, steadying himself. When he opens them, Wei Ying stands before him, a smile on his lips.
They watch each other silently for a while.
Then, Lan Wangji asks, "What is the name of this song?"
Wei Ying's smile turns into something mischievous.
"Think of it yourself," he says.
Lan Wangji smiles.