Chapter Text
Cloud Recesses, after the war, is nowhere as solemn as it once has been. Lan Xichen remembers spending days in silence, sometimes, how the quiet melody of the air going through the bushes, of the water of the pond, made a melody of its own. Now there is too much to rebuild for solemnity. The melody has shifted, made from the pace of people hurrying up, carrying charge and the repetitive sound of the hammer hitting the wood.
There is also much more to do, as the sect leader of a sect that has to recover from two years of grueling combats, and a fire, more work than he used to have, as the heir of his father and uncle. Sometimes the amount of work in the morning he has to do is dizzying. But he tries to not be his father and always arranges time to see his family.
His brother is the one asking for his time today.
As proper as always, Lan Wangji, after being invited in, sits in front of his brother’s desk and waits. His back is straight, and his eyes are focused on a point beyond Lan Xichen. One often called Lan Wangji’s glare as cold, maybe he is a little biased as his older brother, but Lan Xichen disaagrees with that statement. He can see today that there’s a whirlwind of emotions behind those eyes, all meticulously hidden and controlled.
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says, offering them both tea. “I’m happy to see you. I have heard your nighthunt near Yiling went well. I’m glad to see you back safe.”
It has never been a doubt that the nighthunt would be dealt with easily. It has been an easy one, one that would barely fit the criteria for the great Haguang-Jun, one of the heroes of the war, to go on. But Wangji had insisted, and Lan Xichen had suspected it had much less to do with the night hunt and much more with the place.
Yiling is considered an extension of Wei Wuxian’s territory. People are even starting to call him the Yiling Patriarch, after all. Not in a good, fond way, unfortunately.
Lan Xichen is prepared to have to coerce his brother into confession, but is surprised when Lan Wangji, with determination in his eyes, answers bluntly :
“Brother, I am well, the monster was slayed and should not bother Yiling any longer.” He pauses and gets a scroll out of his sleeve and opens it as he presents it to his brother. “I came here to ask you for the permission to go on a nighthunt again. I would like to follow this lead.”
Lan Xichen looks down, and reads the first few lines of a familiar scroll. He stares at his own writings. For a second he can’t hear his own thoughts, overwhelmed by the sound of his heartbeats. Has Lan Wangji recognized his calligraphy? No. While it is perfect, as it is demanded of the Lan sect leader, it is also completely standard for someone raised in the main line. Lan Wangji has the exact same writing as their uncle too. Quickly though, he collects himself, and ponders :
“Why do you want to look for a Jiaoren, Wangji? You must be aware that those creatures have not been seen since Lan An’s times.”
“Would you allow it, if I told you why?”Lan Wangji asks, after a pause.
Lan Xichen smiles, almost proud of his little brother, he is getting better at bargaining. No doubt that if he asked permission from uncle he would not be allowed to go, as uncle would judge the quest impossible. Lan Xichen, amusingly, does not.
“I would allow you, whether or not you’d tell me,” he assured his brother. “But I would like to know, as I am curious as to why my little brother is suddenly interested in mythological creatures.”
It takes some time for Lan Wangji to find, either the courage to speak, or the right words to start. It’s okay, Lan Xichen is used to it and doesn’t mind waiting for his brother.
“While i was in Yiling, I crossed way with Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji finally admits. “I had suspected that something was wrong with his body since the end of the war. Especially his core. I am certain now that he is sick in some ways.”
Lan Wangji points out a line, near an illustration of a Jiaoren on the scroll. The document was well done, the illustration admirable, showing a creature with a woman’s torso and head, but starting at the waist it changes, there is a long fish or eel looking tail where the legs should be. The image depicts the creature crying pearls,her hand out stretched offering what looks like a lump of flesh from her own body. She has a wound on her left side, where her heart would sit if she were human. Lan Wangji knows how the text explains the image :
The flesh of a Jiaoren given willingly, can heal all wounds and give one immortality if they so desire. If the one eating the flesh cares for the Jiaoren as much as the Jiaoren cares for them, then the flesh shall regrow naturally. If the flesh is taken from them unwillingly it becomes a deadly poison. If the Jiaoren is forsaken by the one they gave their flesh to, the gift of immortality shall be taken back.
“It’s a nice promise.” Lan Xichen comments, keeping his voice even.
Lan Wangji nods, and swears “I will find a Jiaoren, introduce them to Wei Ying so they can heal him.”
Lan Xichen asks “You are aware, Wangji, that the text suggests that the jiaoren must love the person they give their flesh to and be loved back?”
He is aware that Lan Wangji had developed feelings for Wei Wuxian, when they were mere teens, before the war even started. Wangji has told him he had wanted to bring someone to Cloud Recesses too, and he guessed it might be Wei Wuxian, whose reputation had known nothing but a falling disgrace for the past months.
Lan Wangji’s eyebrow twitch, ever so lightly, but he nods :
“I am aware.”
And as always Lan Xichen can read what his silence means : but I care about his well being above all else .
Surely, his brother’s love is genuine, if mal advised. It hurts to see, especially when Lan Xichen also wants nothing else but his brother’s happiness, after all these years of struggles. If he can alleviate his pain if only a little then -
“There’s more informations about this, later in the scroll. It says that as there are many forms of love,the one mentioned here does not always have to be of a romantic nature.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t look convinced. So Lan Xichen gets his secret cards out :
“Actually, I do not think you have to go on a nighthunt to look for a Jiaoren.” He says.
Lan Wangji, betrayed, pleads : “Brother you said —”
Lan Xichen raises his arms to interrupt him : “As I already know a Jiaoren. Wangji, the text you have before you, I was the one who wrote it.”
For a short moment, all Lan Wangji does is blink at him as if he barely registers Lan Xichen’s words. Though, after a couple of heartbeats he sits down and asks :
“Can brother explain it to me?”
Lan Xichen can and he will, but before he also gives his personal conditions : “This is not my secret, but that of someone who is very dear to me. I share it with you because you are my brother and you need help, but I want you to promise me that you will hold your tongue about it like I did until now.”
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow at him, but understanding that his brother is absolutely serious, he does nods and vows :
“I will keep your and your friend’s secret.”
He waits, patiently, for Lan Xichen to find the words. It is however, not needed, as Lan Xichen speaks without issues, words slip out easily from his lips. He has been dreading to share his story for so long, he hasn’t realized it :
“You know my friend, the Jiaoren, already. It is the one who saved me when I fled Cloud Recesses when it burned, the one who fought on the battlefield alongside the Nie, the one who infiltrated the Wen side and spied on them before killing Wen Ruohan.”
Lan Wangji, whispers a bit stunned :
“Jin Guangyao?”
Lan Xichen meets his brother’s eyes, and confirms :
“Yes, though, when I met him, he was only A-Yao.”
Lan Wangji believes his brother of course, as there had never been any lies between them, but he still inquires, puzzled :
“How?”
How indeed, Lan Xichen chuckles, after all, everyone could see that A-Yao has two working legs and nowhere in the scroll does it mention that a Jiaoren can walk on land in human guise. Yet they do, like most mythical beasts, they learned and so had he.
Lan Xichen pour them tea and once again explains :
“This is a long story.”