Chapter Text
Wèi Wúxiàn should have known that the very interesting portal that ran on Yīn energy in the middle of an otherwise peaceful clearing was probably dangerous, but when had he ever not poked around things he shouldn’t to satisfy his curiosity? It drew him in like one of Shījiě’s cute little brats yanking on his hand to get his attention, but deeper somehow, pulling at the very core of him.
Stepping through from one quiet forest to another much louder one left a tingle along his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck raised, but the the first thing he saw was more beautiful than he could have dreamt: Zǐdiàn’s furious white hot arc flashing through the air to strike down a man in black.
For a moment, Wèi Wúxiàn had the dizzying vision of a Yú-fūrén still alive and fighting, a Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect that never fell, of a Jiāng Chéng alive and waiting patiently to take up Jiāng Fēngmián’s mantle, of Jiāng-shushu’s rough warm hands still guiding the little shīdìs’ arms in sword forms, of a Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect full to bursting with familiar laughter and little pattering feet… the rush of hope burned through him hot and sharp, but faded just as quickly and replaced with something better. Wèi Wúxiàn’s eye-line followed Zǐdiàn back to its handler, but instead of Yú Zǐyuān, the Zǐ Zhīzhū that raised him alongside her own children, like he expected, he was met with a miracle.
Jiāng Chéng was alive. Jiāng Chéng was alive! Jiāng Chéng was alive and dressed in fine purple robes of his station, a lotus crown guān containing half his hair, and a face like thunder. Jiāng Chéng was alive and he was sect leader and he was here and he was the most beautiful thing Wèi Wúxiàn had ever seen.
There were disciples in Yúnmèng Jiāng purple, Lánlíng Jīn gold and Gūsū Lán blue fighting fierce corpses all around Wèi Wúxiàn. Jiāng Chéng was twisting the bolt of Zǐdiàn in his hand, expelling the resentful energy from the demonic cultivator on his knees at Jiāng Chéng’s feet. The juniors were handling the dozen or so fierce corpses very well, but Wèi Wúxiàn caught the shadow of movement in Jiāng Chéng’s blindspot and Wèi Wúxiàn moved before he could think.
Wèi Wúxiàn pulled Suíbiàn and stepped up to Jiāng Chéng’s back, catching the second cultivator’s blade on his own.
Before Wèi Wúxiàn or the second demonic cultivator could push away from each other, Jiāng Chéng turned just enough to slip Sāndú under Wèi Wúxiàn’s arm and into the demonic cultivator’s throat. Wèi Wúxiàn flowed along with the twist of Jiāng Chéng’s body and sliced the first demonic cultivator’s throat before he finished standing.
“Down!” Jiāng Chéng shouted above the din, and the junior disciples across the clearing dropped to a crouch. Zǐdiàn seared above their heads, the spiritual tool’s thong burst through corpse after corpse and disintegrated them with a wild thunderous crack.
Wèi Wúxiàn’s heart sped up despite the danger having passed because Jiāng Chéng turned on him in an instant, and Sāndú’s shining blade rested soft as a kiss against this throat.
“Who are you?” Jiāng Chéng growled.
Wèi Wúxiàn couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spilling across his face. “Oh, shīdì, you don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.”
Jiāng Chéng huffed but didn’t move Sāndú. Wèi Wúxiàn held Suíbiàn down at his side, his blade tilted away from Jiāng Chéng.
“Wèi Wúxiàn,” Jiāng Chéng called, but he was looking away from Wèi Wúxiàn, towards where a huddle of little Lán juniors examined the left over remains.
A young man with a face that Wèi Wúxiàn recognized as a Jīn stepped towards them, and Wèi Wúxiàn felt a twinge of discomfort. He may not know this young man, but he recognized how this Jīn dressed partially as a Lán moved: he was looking at another him, uncanny and disconcerting as it was, Wèi Wúxiàn knew it had to be true as he recognized that soul behind those different eyes from his own reflection.
“Wèi Wúxiàn,” Jiāng Chéng said again. “Explain.”
The other Wèi Wúxiàn looked between them and winced. “It was the array you broke, Jiāng Ch- Jiāng-zōngzhǔ. One of them mentioned they were trying to summon the real Yílíng Lǎozǔ, remember?”
Both this other Wèi Wúxiàn and Jiāng Chéng turned a looked him up and down, and Wèi Wúxiàn shrugged.
“I have no idea what a Yílíng Lǎozǔ is, but there was a portal that I came through. I couldn’t stop myself from using it, it was drawing me in by my core.”
Jiāng Chéng’s face paled and he stepped back and away from Wèi Wúxiàn. The other Wèi Wúxiàn (he really had to separate them in his head) made an interested hum.
Jiāng Chéng sheathed Sāndú and pulled a sword from his sleeve. “Pull it,” Jiāng Chéng demanded, his voice raspy and thick.
Wèi Wúxiàn looked down at the sword. It was Suíbiàn. Another Suíbiàn besides the one Wèi Wúxiàn held. Wèi Wúxiàn raised his own sword carefully to show Jiāng Chéng but did as he asked and pulled the second Suíbiàn from its sheath.
“There’s a joke here somewhere about Yúnmèng Shuāngjié, shīdì,” Wèi Wúxiàn huffed a laugh. “Two of whatever you like… hm I’ll have to think on that more to come up with something.”
Jiāng Chéng pulled the other Suíbiàn out of his hand and sheathed it before he tucked it back into his sleeve. “Tempted to test you with Zǐdiàn anyway, but no one else has your shitty sense of humor.”
Wèi Wúxiàn sheathed his own Suíbiàn and tucked it into his belt. He grinned at Jiāng Chéng and pulled his top layer of robes open with his hands and said, “If it makes you feel better, Ā-Chéng, you can whip me as you like!”
Zǐdiàn sparked on Jiāng Chéng’s finger but Jiāng Chéng just rolled his eyes. “Well if I wasn’t convinced before-”
“How am I supposed to be sure you’re my Ā-Chéng, huh? You haven’t even hugged me yet-” Wèi Wúxiàn complained and cut off as Jiāng Chéng’s arms wrapped around him. Jiāng Chéng pulled him close and tucked his head into the curve of Wèi Wúxiàn’s throat. Jiāng Chéng was hot and his arms like vices around Wèi Wúxiàn’s ribs and Jiāng Chéng lifted him off the ground onto his toes just a little. Wèi Wúxiàn returned the hug, one arm around Jiāng Chéng’s ribs and the other around his shoulders so Wèi Wúxiàn could dig his hands into Jiāng Chéng’s hair that flowed half down his back.
Jiāng Chéng still hugged like he was trying to keep Wèi Wúxiàn from escaping, and it felt like coming home. Wèi Wúxiàn felt something loosen in his chest.
Wèi Wúxiàn lost track of how long they stood like that but eventually Wèi Yīng cleared his throat and Jiāng Chéng pulled away from him. Jiāng Chéng brushed Zǐdiàn against Wèi Wúxiàn’s chest and it gave him a small jolt of greeting.
Jiāng Chéng’s eyes were red but clear as they stood and stared at one another for a long moment. A young man in Jīn yellow (so many Jīns!) stepped up to Jiāng Chéng’s left and tucked himself against Jiāng Chéng’s side. Wèi Wúxiàn raised an eyebrow at the presumption, but those were Shījiě’s eyes in a mix of Jiāng Chéng’s and Jīn Zixuān’s faces. This disciple was older than any of Jiāng Yànlí’s children back where Wèi Wúxiàn came from, but there’s no one else he could be.
“Who’s this?” Wèi Wúxiàn asked softly, his face and voice going soft with affection.
The kid puffed up exactly like Jīn Zixuān when Wèi Wúxiàn made fun of him. “I’m Jīn Líng. Who are you supposed to be?”
“Wèi Wúxiàn!” Wèi Wúxiàn answered, a grin splitting his face. “Are you Jiāng Yànlí’s son? You look so much like her!”
Jīn Líng’s eyes grew large in surprise and he blushed. Out of the corner of his eye Wèi Wúxiàn saw both Jiāng Chéng and Wèi Yīng flinch.
“I do?” Jīn Líng asked him softly. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
“Well you look a lot like her other children, and like Jiāng Chéng when he was your age, too,” Wèi Wúxiàn offered. “But shīdì and shījiě looked a lot alike as kids.”
Jiāng Chéng blushed and pushed at his shoulder. “You only said that because you like to tease me about looking like a girl.”
“I said it because it was true!” Wèi Wúxiàn laughed and stepped into Jiāng Chéng’s other side to knock their shoulders together. “Teasing you for being so pretty was just a bonus!”
“Oh?” Jiāng Chéng practically purred. Wèi Wúxiàn shivered. “Does shīxiōng no longer find this Jiāng-zōngzhǔ pleasant to look at?”
Wèi Wúxiàn swallowed thickly. “Don’t be stupid, Ā-Chéng, you’ve grown up. That means you’re handsome now. It’s more authoritative.”
Jiāng Chéng laughed at him, and Jīn Líng looked like he’s been hit in the head as he stared at them both. “What would the worst dà-shīxiōng Yúnmèng Jiāng ever had know about authority!”
All three of them were walking towards the Yúnmèng Jiāng disciples that were clustered together watching them with eyes as big as saucers and mouths open. Wèi Wúxiàn glanced around and saw that aside from Jīn Líng, the Yúnmèng Jiāng disciples appeared to be the youngest group here. No wonder Jiāng Chéng had been furious enough for Zǐdiàn to flash white during the fight.
“Don’t tell your disciples that, Ā-Chéng, they’ll never respect me this way,” Wèi Wúxiàn complained and threw an arm over Jiāng Chéng’s shoulder, pulling him close. Jiāng Chéng went along with his direction, and Wèi Wúxiàn felt warmth flush through him despite the cool night.
Jiāng Chéng grinned at him, his face open and eyes shining and the most beautiful dream that Wèi Wúxiàn never wanted to wake up from. “I’m sure Wèi Wúxiàn will find some way, right? Know what’s impossible-”
“-do it anyway,” Wèi Wúxiàn finished with him softly. Wèi Wúxiàn decided that if this was a dream, he’d enjoy it for as long as possible as much as he could. He’d stay, he’d find a way, no matter how impossible.
Wèi Wúxiàn was good at doing the impossible anyway.