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Chapter Text

It is a common belief among the noble scholars of both the imperial and cultivation worlds that how an individual manages their time is a show of their discipline and character. Someone who rises at mao shi and finishes all of their work before hai shi is usually seen as having good discipline because they keep a regular schedule. A person who follows a rigid schedule never straying from it in their day-to-day life is believed to have a strong moral character, much better than someone whose schedule starts later in the day and ends well into the night.

And it is complete and utter bullshit.

None of this takes into account any of the people who work different schedules because they have no choice. People whose work is dependent on things that are outside of their control. If a child is sold to a brothel and now has to work late into the night in order to pay off her debt does that make her an immoral person? If a farmer is unable to harvest his crops due to a drought, is the inadequate weather his fault? What about a person who has to work multiple jobs or has multiple responsibilities in and out of their home? Is a mother who cannot make her shift at work because she must take care of her sick child someone of weak moral character? People cannot control everything and need to be adaptable to their environment, as well the fact that everyone is different and one schedule that works for someone will not work for everyone, but it does not make that person better than everyone else. You cannot confine man to the limitations of their nature and then be disappointed that they are not gods. Anyone who acts like that is nothing but a pretentious, ignorant, out of touch idiot, who has enough money to be able to breeze through anything that threatens their schedule.

“You really don’t like rich people,” an amused voice rings out interrupting the tirade of the young girl standing next to them and organizing different herbs and plants into jars and packages for storage.

“What gave it away?” Shuilan says without looking up from her new task of chopping up red ginseng to be dried and steamed. The other person leaning an elbow on a wooden countertop to rest their head on an open palm to stare up at and watch their friend work, completely content in their current position. 

“I only asked why you woke up later than usual,” the voice belonged to another young person, though a bit older than the girl, with a spiritual sword strapped onto their hip indicating that they were a cultivator, a rogue cultivator by the look of their simple gray robes. The cultivator was called Shao Hongying, and though they say that, it is still quite early at the later end of mao shi. Shuilan finally pauses and looks up from the herbs.

“Sorry,” she sighs, her shoulders sagging not realizing how tense they’ve gotten. “I used to live in a place with a rigid schedule and people would get punished for not being able to keep up with it.” She picks up a mortar and pestle to begin grounding up a few herbs for medicinal tea next to a pile of unused talismans. A silence begins and the rogue cultivator shifts to stretch their arms above their head before resting their head on the table to continue observing the fascinating process of grinding up leaves. 

The two spend several moments like that before Shuilan speaks again. “It’s more accurate to say that I don’t like self righteous fools,” she spits out the word righteous like it tastes bad in her mouth, “and rich assholes tend to fall into that category.” 

The cultivator outright laughs at that. “What about cultivation sects?” they ask with a twinkle in their eye.

“Are they rich assholes?” a rhetorical question and they both know it.

“Fair enough,” Shao Hongying laughs at their pretty friend’s obstinate stance on the issue. Though they couldn’t help but wonder what she’d have gone through to have such a poor impression of sect cultivators. It felt deeper than seeing Jin sect cultivators overcharging poor villagers, it felt more like she believed that they were fundamentally wrong. 

“Glad I am but a lowly rogue then, or else you would have chased me out of your office before I’d even gotten a word out to ask for help,” they tease, delighted by the eye roll they receive in response.

“You were badly injured,” she huffs indignantly. “I would have treated you regardless of your apparent affiliation-,” 

They raise an eyebrow at her.

 “-then I would have charged you a larger sum than my regular patients.” yeah, that sounds about right.

“My dear Shuilan, you truly are a gem.” Shuilan throws a rag at them, caught quite easily and receives a wink for her troubles. 

“You’re so full of shit, Shao Hongying,” she aptly gets a shit-eating grin in response. 

Their bantering is interrupted by the sound of the door opening. “Is it too early to pick up our order?” the voice’s warm timbre rings out, behind him his wife giggles behind her hand. 

Shao Hongying grins at them while Shuilan wishes that the villagers were less nosy, but still smiles at them while moving past her friend to pluck a package of dried white peony root off a shelf for the couple. 

“A cup of tea in the morning should help with your poor circulation Feng xiansheng,” Shuilan hands him the package but his wife gently catches her arm before she turns to write down her instructions. 

“Aiyo, Shuilan you make him sound so important,” Feng taitai laughs lightly smiling warmly at Shuilan. “Honestly just call us Auntie and Uncle,” her husband nodding quite seriously in agreement. 

Shuilan finds herself looking at the older couple fondly. “Of course, auntie.” 

The apothecary continues to inform the couple of the effects of the herb and the most effective way to take it, she writes it down for them before they bid the apothecary and cultivator goodbye. Shuilan goes back to her work station where Shao Hongying is still sitting next to. 

“You never answered my question, love,” they goad, not one to let things go no matter how long it’s been.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, kept having nightmares,” Shuilan responds, clearly asking them to drop it.

“The same as before or different?” bastard she thinks to herself.

“The same, and that’s all I’ll say on it,” she glares at them. 

They stare back contemplating something about her interaction with the couple. The way that Shuilan carries herself and the way that she speaks. She talks all proper even if she speaks crassly with Shao Hongying, so even if she's of common descent she’s well educated, about more than just herbs and medicine. She also has experience with things like sect cultivators and other rich families or institutions. Shao Hongying has spent enough time around her to notice all of this but never feels right in asking about any of it. 

“Have you finished the talisman you were working on,” they ask instead, not wanting to aggravate her so early in the morning. Evidently the right choice as Shuilan jumps to explain the breakthrough she had the day before after she finished her apothecary work.

“I figured out how to keep the wind coming from the talisman blowing out in one direction instead of sucking everything within a ten li radius into it,” She goes to hand them a few from the table to test out during their next nighthunt. “Now it should only blow out wind directly in front of the talisman, it’ll be useful for things like putting out a fire if there isn't easy access to water, or keeping yaos and fierce corpses at a distance if you need to get away.” She looks up from her work proudly as Shao Hongying admires her handiwork.

Another thing about her that Shao Hongying has on the ever growing list of things he learns about Shuilan that they need to ask about. Where did you learn all of this? It must have been from a sect, is that why you hate them so much? They did something to you while you were there? You’re clearly a cultivator, why do you stay in this small village and where is your family? When they look back at her she’s fidgeting while waiting for them to speak. The words that come out of their mouth are more sincere than they intended, if the blush on her face is any indication, but no truer of a statement they can speak.

“Wei Shuilan you never cease to impress me.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian sits idly in class while old man Lan drones on about the proper etiquette and way to go about gathering information when tracking down an unknown creature. Truly something so simple and boring shouldn't even be covered in a class. This is something everyone their age should already know, and if they don't that is truly a testament to how lacking their education has been in their home sect. The best way to get information after speaking with the closest sect and town magistrate would be to speak to the common folk that are the most likely to be impacted by such an inconvenience at best and tragedy at worst. The common people might not have all the right terminology when describing the situation to you, but they would be able to tell you where it happens, what seems to be going on, and if you as the cultivator cannot infer from that information what kind of monster you are dealing with then you compare it to the closest equivalent and plan what to do from there. Wei wuxian pauses from his musings and switches to a more interesting topic in his mind. 

The fierce corpse that escaped when he was walking from the cold pond. 

When Wei Wuxian shamelessly spoke about controlling resentful energy, it was partly to piss off his upright teacher but he was sincere in his response. Wei Wuxian was never given a soul-calming ritual so when he dies it is a possibility that he may become a fierce corpse that righteous cultivators will have to eliminate. Eliminate, because depending on the cultivator they may not bother with liberating him so that his soul can still reincarnate. His question on finding a way to manipulate resentful energy was an honest one even if he knew it would not be received well. He didn't think there would be any way to do so without serious backlash, from both the energy and the orthodox cultivation world, that much is obvious. People don't like change, traditions are upheld even if they're inefficient, anything different is labeled heretical, even if they aren't truly, to put people off from using it. When he became so desperate to get away from the fierce corpse that he unconsciously reached out to the resentful energy it felt like his arm was about to rip itself apart from the inside, and it hurt so much he felt like he was about to die. 

But the corpse stopped. If only for a moment, and Wei Wuxian doesn't know if he could've kept it up for long enough to get away had Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan not shown up. He can still feel the resentful energy coiling around his arm like a snake ready to eat its prey. The way it weaved itself through his meridians, intertwining itself with the qi flowing through him, and he couldn't stop it.

Energy like that isn't meant to be controlled. 

…

But why?

Yin and Yang theory. Yang is the light, yin is the dark, the two coexist to create harmony and balance. You cannot have one without the other, in light there are always shadows and in the dark there will always exist light, you cannot disrupt the balance and harmony of yin and yang. Where one ends the other begins, an overabundance of one will slowly turn into the other so smoothly a person won't notice until it is too late. Therefore you cannot control resentful energy because it disrupts the natural balance of the world. 

So why aren't cultivators considered heretics?

Yang qi energy shouldn't be controlled either. Excess Yang is harmful to the body and is treated, not by increasing yin energy, but by decreasing the amount of Yang energy that has accumulated the body. Having a golden core doesn’t even solve the problem. Though the golden core helps regulate and allows cultivators to receive all the benefits of pure yang energy, an excess of yang still causes harm to the body through qi deviations. The basis of orthodox cultivation goes against the Daoist beliefs of yin and yang theory, even the Confucius beliefs regarding balance. So why is orthodox cultivation considered okay? 

If someone is able to find a way to harness yin energy in a similar manner that yang energy is used, could they potentially ease their way into mainstream practices of cultivation? Talismans are able to use yang energy in a way that barely interacts with the body, if someone could create a talisman that uses resentful energy instead of spiritual energy would it be considered evil even though it wouldn’t harm the body?

Could I create something like that?

“-ian. Wei Wuxian!”

An aggressive whisper of his name shakes him from his, admittedly, potentially problematic train of thought. If anyone heard any of his ideas regarding the utilization of resentful energy as more than just a joke to set his teacher off on a rant he would be lucky if getting paddled was his only punishment. 

He turned his head and noticed Jiang Cheng flicking his head at him, motioning for him to look forward at their teacher who had finished the topic being covered in class, looking expectantly at the class. From the corner of his eye he noticed Lan Zhan looking at him briefly before silently huffing. Oh, the old man asked a question and is waiting for the class to participate in the discussion. Wei Wuxian takes a quick glance at Jiang Cheng in his peripheral vision. I wasn’t listening. What the hell do you want me to do?

Lan Qiren was not impressed.

“Wei Wuxian, if you are unable to infer anything useful from the magistrate how would you proceed your hunt from there?” Seriously? Why me, old man?

Wei Wuxian repeated his earlier musings about speaking with the townspeople who would be most impacted by the reported happenings. Either going directly to the area that is impacted, or a gathering area for the townspeople in order to find sociable people who wouldn’t mind sharing a thing or two on what’s been going on that the magistrate may have overlooked. 

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed as they scrutinized his person. There was nothing out of line with what Wei Wuxian said so he thought it was a bit petty of the man to nit pick one of his more straightforward responses. The old man seemed to begrudgingly find his answer acceptable and moved on to another student. 

The rest of the class continued on as uneventfully as it had started with Lan Qiren calling on random students and grilling them on different topics, Tingshan He’s young master in particular was unable to come up with anything on his own so Wei Wuxian was inconspicuously whispering his assistance to the poor heir. 

When Lan Qiren finally dismissed the class Wei Wuxian got up from his desk ready to turn and say something stupid to Jiang Cheng just to rile him up before his name was called again. 

“Wei Wuxian, wait a moment. I would like to speak to you.” 

What the fuck, I didn’t even do anything this time.

Jiang Cheng grimaces and glares at him, sending the message to behave. Well jokes on him, he did behave today and he still got in trouble, this is clearly out of Wei Wuxian’s control (but what else is new). He smiled teasingly at his shidi before the other boy left whispering with Nie Huaisang. Lan Zhan also paused in his task of packing up his materials before looking between his uncle and Wei Wuxian. Lan Qiren nodded at his nephew and Lan Zhan finished gathering his belongings then left but not before one last confused glance at his uncle that did not go unnoticed by Wei Wuxian. I guess he doesn’t know what this is about either.

Wei Wuxian walked towards the teacher who then gestured for him to sit while he organized the papers on his desk. Wei Wuxian waited silently only fidgeting a little bit before Lan Qiren pulled out a stack of papers from the pile and handed it to him. Still confused and a little apprehensive, Wei Wuxian takes the paper and reads it. It was his test paper from their most recent examination. There weren't any markings on it either aside from his own chicken scratch. Still not catching onto what the old man is thinking he looks up at him as he hands back his test. To his bewilderment, when Lan Qiren takes it back he begins to read it out loud. 

“Legalism values distinct hierarchies and systems that have to be followed and failure to adhere to such structures lead to severe punishments, in contrast Daoism emphasizes a lack of conformity from the people towards the societal standards and to exist only with harmony to the universe,” the man dictates directly from the paper. 

From what Wei Wuxian could understand the purpose of the test was to see how well the students understood the major philosophies that govern and dictate their culture, to see where exactly the each person’s level of education is at in order for Lan Qiren to appropriately accommodate the curriculum so that it is not so unreasonable for people to pass. It still doesn't explain what is happening right now.

“They do not appear to have anything in common with each other so for there to be a synthesis between the two ideologies there would have to be compromises. Daoism seems to combine well with other ideologies, but among the core principles of Legalism it is difficult to see where one would be willing to compromise considering one values the adherence to rules and systems, while the other allows for the individual freedom to reject societal values and live in a way that is harmonious to the universe.”

If Wei Wuxian is honest he is quite partial to Daoism as a philosophy. The way it is utilized by most allows for the higher classes of people to look down at the common folk and anyone even below that based on nothing but bloodline and luck, but at its core, Daoism, in its most archaic interpretation, means to live and let be. If you want to be extreme about it, it would mean that if you catch on fire not to put it out and just let nature take its course. Be one with nature and do not fight the natural parts of life. The reason that he likes it is because it emphasizes what is natural, and human made hierarchies are not natural. No one is above the other and no one should try to fight that because it would create disharmony. Alas, the world runs on money and power, and disharmony is used in order to get what you want.

Lan Qiren continues, maybe unaware but more likely uncaring of the fact that Wei Wuxian grows more and more confused as time passes. 

Seriously. What is happening?

“Daoism is a very broad ideology that thinks in terms of the bigger picture of the world, but Legalism is hard, structured, and very serious in its way of thinking because once rules and laws are decided it becomes difficult to change in a way that will be beneficial to everyone,” Lan Qiren finishes his recitation and stares Wei Wuxian directly in the eyes.

For a moment Wei Wuxian tries to think of a response. “ Yes that is what I wrote down,” or “ I promise I didn’t cheat,” he had a feeling simply saying “ cool” would not be appreciated. Thankfully his teacher wasn’t looking for a response.

“Do you know what has been plaguing me since the lectures started, Wei Wuxian?”

My very existence?

“That in spite of your undesirable conduct and complete lack of respect for propriety, you are undeniably one of the most promising students that have attended this lecture.” 

Wei Wuxian blinked at him not knowing how to respond to that . A statement of fact that so clearly haunts his teacher, it would have made him laugh if it didn’t annoy him so much that he was being talked down to. He was once again not expected to respond.

“Your answers on your test are well thought out and insightful despite the fact that you never seem to pay attention in class, and are more concerned with entertaining your fellow students with absolutely no regard for the rules that you are blatantly ignoring,” Lan Qiren begins to sound exasperated.

His teacher then pulls another paper out of his sleeve once again handing it to him.

Oh shit.

The slightly crumpled paper is a diagram that Wei Wuxian had started in class when they were working on an actually interesting array in class the other day. He finished the in class assignment easily and began to expound on an idea deriving from the array that he continued to work on during his punishment session with Lan Zhan. One of his papers must have gotten mixed up in the papers he was transcribing the rules on while he was trying to be inconspicuous about it. In his defense, the paper he left behind ended up not being necessary once he thought of a different way to go about his problem that didn’t require the extra diagram. 

Wei Wuxian is starting to feel nervous now.

“Can you explain to me what this is?” it’s phrased as a question but it is most definitely not a request.

“It’s an array that I was theorizing would trap fierce corpses in it while also allowing spiritual energy through in a way that allows it to continuously circle in a vacuum in order to speed up the liberation process, so that cultivators do not have to keep supplying spiritual energy when they’ve been weakened and don’t have much left.” The idea came to him from the array they were studying in class that trapped cultivators and did not allow their spiritual energy out of the array. He found a way to make it semipermeable instead, trapping resentful creatures but allowing for other types of energy to pass through into it, and due to the nature of resentful energy and spiritual energy and their constant push against each other it creates a system that dissipates once it reaches equilibrium. 

“Should this undergo proper and rigorous experimentation, you could change the way that cultivators deal with lower level resentful creatures entirely,” Lan Qiren states bluntly.

Cool, I guess? The entire thing was more of a thought experiment as Wei Wuxian wouldn't really have the time or appropriate resources to really test it out. His responsibilities as Head Disciple do not lend themselves to such things and even if they did, it would be near impossible for his inventions to get any actual use given Madam Yu’s utter disdain at anything he does at all. If the old man could get to the point, Wei Wuxian would really appreciate it.

“Time and time again you show how you far surpass your peers in your understanding of cultivation and you don’t even do it on purpose. If I am going to be completely honest I am worried about where your mind will go if left unchecked, so this one has been left with no choice but to ask you directly: just how bored are you during these lectures?”

…

Well that was unexpected.

Now Wei Wuxian is in a bit of a pickle. He’s already made it known to the man that he is not taking these classes seriously, this whole escapade is really more of a vacation to him away from all his responsibilities at Lotus Pier, but there is absolutely no way he can say that to the man running the exchange. Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment as his teacher patiently allows him to gather his thoughts, and decides that there’s no use in being anything other than honest.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat before speaking as respectfully as he can for the first time since the lectures started, if only to show how truthfully he is speaking at this moment. “If this student may be honest,” he begins carefully watching Lan Qiren’s face, “the lectures cover a broad spectrum of different subjects and topics that are beneficial to the education of the sect heirs, however if you are asking this one specifically if he finds it sufficiently challenging..,” still no change in the old man’s expression so Wei Wuxian might as well.

“...then the answer would have to be no.”

“I see.”

Lan Qiren looks thoughtfully at Wei Wuxian, as if dissecting him in his head trying to figure out how to proceed from here. He looks like he wants to take a deep breath or sigh in exasperation but his manners won’t let him. Proprietary once again taking precedence over anything and everything, Wei Wuxian genuinely can’t imagine living like that.

“Your need to entertain both yourself and your peers, and the way that you seek answers to questions and ideas that go beyond the scope that is intended during the lectures is a direct consequence to the fact that you are not being challenged enough during class?”

“I mean? Probably?” He’d never thought of it like that before but it’s not unreasonable.

“Though I haven’t been on my best behaviour, I do still appreciate the Lan Sect’s invitation to their lectures on Jiang shushu’s request,” Wei Wuxian adds on with a sheepish bow from his sitting position.

“A junior disciple becoming head disciple at the age of fourteen, especially after beginning training not long before is an impressive feat,” Lan Qiren sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself at this point. “You would have received an invitation regardless of Jiang Zongzhu’s request.”

“Wait really,” Wei Wuxian asks before he can stop himself.

“Yes. Your father received the same invitation when he was your age for the same reasons.”

Well that was news to him.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “I didn’t know that.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know that?” Lan Qiren sounds incredulous and confused when he asks. “It is a child’s duty to honour the memory of their parents.”

The older man condescends to him and Wei Wuxian, who is used to such things, can’t help but feel slighted. He didn’t know because nobody told him and he learned early on not to ask Jiang Shushu anything about his parents lest Madam Yu find out and accuse him of trying to gain more favour by bothering his sect leader with trivial sentimentalities, and he says as much to Lan Qiren omitting the part about Madam Yu.

The old man once again looks thoughtful while stroking his beard. Wei Wuxian waits silently for his teacher to speak, dismiss him, add to his punishment, literally anything at this point. Wei Wuxian doesn’t think that he’s said anything outlandish during this talk, but you never know how people will choose to take the things he says regardless of how harmless he feels it is. 

“Wei Wuxian, I have misjudged you.” huh?

“...About what exactly, sir?”

“I believed that your outbursts and poor behaviour stemmed from a lack of care and respect for authority, and while your behaviour does require correcting, I have been negligent in my duty as an educator,” Lan Qiren continues like he isn’t flipping Wei Wuxian’s world around right now. An adult with direct authority, apologizing to him for poor treatment. “And for that I apologize.”

Baffled at this turn of events, Wei Wuxian responds, “There’s really no need for that.”

Truly there isn’t. Despite the fact that Lan Qiren had apologized he only meant it in his lack of acknowledgement of Wei Wuxian’s intelligence and how it pertains to cultivation. He doesn’t care that he singled out Wei Wuxian in front of the class on the first day for something other disciples have no doubt done and were dealt with in private, and when he failed to shame Wei Wuxian he belittled him instead. 

“As a disciple of the Jiang Clan of Yunmeng, you should be so familiar with all this information that you can recite it without issue. There should be no pride taken in answering correctly.”

Wei Wuxian learned everything he needed to know about the man after that. His background will not be overlooked here, he doesn’t belong in such a place, and with that Wei Wuxian decided that there was no point in forcing himself to conform to such a stuffy place even if only for a year.

“Hm,” the man hums contemplatively. He looks like he’s about to say something before stopping himself and nods instead. 

“To correct this your punishment will be modified, as it is admittedly excessive for the offense. You will finish copying the rules but you will not have to write any more additional copies.”

Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel slightly disappointed that Lan Wangji will no longer be obligated to watch him, and it almost overcomes the relief he feels because his hand feels like it’s about to fall off after every session.

“This one thanks Lan Laoshi for his generosity,” he lowers his head respectfully.

Lan Qiren continues to look at him with searching eyes. Searching for what, Wei Wuxian doesn’t really know but is hoping that the  conversation will be over soon.

“In addition, you will be taking additional classes with me.”

Sorry, what?

“Since the curriculum falls far below where you currently are in your education I will rectify it with additional lessons covering topics that I see fit,” Lan Qiren states bluntly, looking satisfied with this decision.

You just waived my punishment, old man! Why are you giving me another one?!

“We will meet for an hour everyday on top of the regular guest disciple class. I will let you know when I find an optimal meeting time.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making right now, he sincerely hopes that his displeasure isn’t so obvious. If the teacher saw anything he didn’t comment on it, and held up the paper with the diagram of the array Wei Wuxian was working on during his punishment. “Starting with this.”

Wei Wuxian continues to stare at the man like he’s lost his mind.

“I want you to present your findings on this array design that you have concocted. A written treatise would be appreciated but just your notes would also suffice.”

Wei Wuxian manages a nod, and with that he is dismissed. 

Shit now I have to make sure my chicken scratch is actually legible. Wei Wuxian sighs to himself when he’s finally a good distance away from the Orchid Room. A treatise on array theory is still better than having to write official correspondence. At least the thing he has to write will actually be interesting. He sighs again before going on his way to the library to finish the last of his punishment, he wonders if he should tell Lan Wangji about the change in his punishment or if he should leave that to his uncle. 

Wei Wuxian finally makes it to the library entrance and firmly ignores the disappointment he feels over the fact that Lan Wangji won’t have any reason to be near Wei Wuxian anymore. 

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji has never been good with people. Outside of his family he prefers his own company. The guest lectures were not something that he was originally supposed to be part of, but given his duty as the student disciplinarian it is his responsibility to ensure that the visiting disciples respected their rules. How unfortunate for him that his very presence seems to encourage the most shameless and unrepentant of them to actively ignore the rules.

Lan Wangji has never met someone so adamantly incapable of behaving himself. Wei Wuxian is incorrigible, he is impudent, noisy, disrespectful, and worst of all he is talented. Wangji doesn’t understand, it genuinely confuses him, how someone so undisciplined is simultaneously the only one who can keep up with him in terms of capabilities. How can someone like Wei Wuxian be so gifted when he doesn’t deserve it, he thought unkindly, then reprimanding himself for it. Do not speak ill of others, he reminds himself. 

(He can’t help but think of his uncle’s behaviour when he mentally recites the rule. How Wei Wuxian’s brilliance was met with disapproval and hostility, rather than the begrudging acknowledgment of said talents and an attempt to offer him guidance as a way to correct his behaviour after the first class.)

Wei Wuxian is brilliant in ways that Lan Wangji can’t comprehend. He doesn’t pay attention in class and it took no longer than a week to realize that it is because he already knows the material. During their sessions in the library pavilion Lan Wangji began to notice that Wei Wuxian manages to take materials off of the shelves before he settles down and copies the required rules for that session, and in between complaining and actually transcribing he also reads and takes notes of whatever book he got his hands on before Wangji could notice and confiscate it. 

It irritates Lan Wangji because this is clearly a game to Wei Wuxian to see how much he can get away with before Lan Wangji loses his composure. So when his uncle informs him that Wei Wuxian’s punishment is to be waived, that he will only have to finish copying the rules for another week instead of the full two months that had been originally assigned, he feels relieved. 

But then he also learns that his uncle will be directly overseeing extra lessons that Wei Wuxian has been given, and Lan Wangji finds himself a little lost. 

Students that require extra lessons tend to be those who are falling behind, and though Wei Wuxian is not a good student he is certainly not lacking in the academic department. And those supplementary lessons are never headed by his uncle, normally assigned to other senior disciples of the Lan sect. So perhaps this is just another way to keep the other boy out of trouble by keeping his time occupied without needing to constantly wait for him to do something unsavory and assign punishment. 

But then the unthinkable happens and it appears that Wei Wuxian is starting to seek Lan Qiren out outside of the regular guest disciple lectures, and the allotted time with his uncle. No it appears that regular meeting times have been forgone entirely and now Wei Wuxian simply seeks his uncle out whenever he wants to and his uncle is available, because the sight of Wei Wuxian with his arms full of talisman papers eagerly walking towards the hall where Lan Wangji’s uncle holds council becomes a common one. 

(Lan Wangji would never give voice to it but he is relieved at this turn of events. He had worried about his uncle’s ire at Wei Wuxian’s intelligence and competence but this change has allowed Lan Wangji some reprieve from it.)

Sometimes they will be seen in the library pavilion where Wei Wuxian will take multiple different texts off the shelves and engage Lan Qiren in a debate regarding the way that the material was researched, issues that Wei Wuxian will elaborate on which Lan Qiren will then look at himself, and later that evening Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen will find themselves listening to their uncle pontificating on certain texts being out of date, overly biased, or only good for understanding the history of a topic rather being helpful in anyway outside of that. 

His uncle appears to complain about Wei Wuxian more these days, but Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen know their uncle better than anyone else. No, Lan Qiren is enjoying having genuine dialogue and debates with someone who actually has the curiosity and insights to keep him on his toes. 

Not only that, but Wei Wuxian approached Lan Wangji, quite bashfully, after the first week of this new arrangement and asked him what sort of things his uncle likes because Wei Wuxian would like to give him a thank you gift. 

A thank you gift. For Lan Wangji’s uncle.

Lan Wangji doesn't know what to do with this. He doesn't know what to do because Wei Wuxian isn't being as disruptive, he doesn't spend all of his time outside of class goofing off and drinking with Jiang Wanyin, Nie Huaisang, and whichever other guest disciples they can rope onto their shenanigans, and he's not going out of his way to fight back against authority figures. 

Instead he spends his time researching in the library pavilion reading and sorting through different texts, he's been seen speaking with other scholars outside of his uncle when Lan Qiren feels he needs another set of eyes when looking over Wei Wuxian’s work. Wei Wuxian gifted his uncle a tool that he invented, a brush that is able to write on its own based entirely on voice commands in order get through paperwork faster. Lan Wangji thinks that Wei Wuxian seems to have a better understanding of how their sect runs, whatever understanding the boy has reached with his uncle has truly improved his behaviour. Other disciples have noticed this as well, and seemed to have decided to gain Wei Wuxian’s favour as a way to see what exactly about him is special, special enough to make Lan Qiren, a well established educator who has not once taken to any disciple previously, take personal interest in.

But he still breaks rules, albeit smaller, less offensive rules. Five rules a day it seems, one of which is usually the no running rule. Lan Wangji is of the opinion that he's doing it on purpose to see if anyone has noticed. He is embarrassed by the fact that he's been paying so much attention to a guest disciple that he isn’t even close with, even if Wangji is still in charge of supervising his punishments.

Although, Wei Wuxian still greets him whenever they pass by. He greets Lan Wangji, asks him how his day has been, and always seems like he wants to say more but stops himself before smiling politely and excusing himself to go hang out with Jiang Wanyin, Nie Huaisang, or to look for Lan Qiren instead. One notable interaction ended with him asking for Lan Xichen. 

Wangji was quite miffed after that particular conversation. 

And Wangji… Well Wangji isn’t used to wanting someone to keep talking. He isn’t used to wanting to seek someone out for no reason. Wangji wants to spend time with Wei Wuxian but he doesn’t know how to go about it. After seeing for himself that Wei Wuxian is more than just a rule-breaking guest disciple that’ll be gone when the exchange is over, he doesn’t know how to go about being friends when he has already quite firmly denied Wei Wuxian’s multiple offers of companionship.

Wangji regrets this more than he would like to admit after seeing how kind and thoughtful Wei Wuxian can be when he himself is treated kindly.  He doesn’t even know when he started referring to the other boy by his birth name, but he remembers the way his face lit up the first time he called him that to his face.

Which is why Wangji finds himself in front of the Hanshi debating whether or not to speak to his brother about what’s been plaguing him for the last three weeks. When he finally knocks and waits for permission to be let in he is surprised by the presence of none other than the person who has refused to leave his mind in peace.

Wei Wuxian is sat in front of Lan Xichen’s work table smiling and conversing so easily with him that Lan Wangji has to quickly squash the jealousy he feels at the sight.

“Wangji! Did you need something?” his brother pauses in his conversation with Wei Wuxian and addresses him. 

Wei Ying quickly turns around and beams at him. “Lan Zhan!” 

The sight of Wei Ying’s smiling face directed at him soothes the unsavory emotions that he was beginning to feel, and he responds with “Wei Ying.” 

Somehow the smile becomes even brighter. None of this goes unnoticed by the traitor his brother.

“Wangji why don’t you sit and join us, we were just talking about the new invention A-xian is going to present to uncle,” his xiongzhang smiles innocently while gesturing for him to sit while Lan Wangji’s brain does the xianxia equivalent of a bluescreen. A-xian.

“A-xian.” 

At the sound of the familiar address Wei Wuxian blushes a bit and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah. I’ve been bothering your brother a lot about a few of my talismans before presenting them to your uncle. He’s seen me tearing through your sect’s library and has offered to help me out and even given me access to some materials in the forbidden section,” Wei Ying’s face turns to Lan Xichen offering him a grateful smile. “After taking up so much of his free time I said he could call me more familiarly since he’s been helping me so much.”

Lan Xichen smiles back at him fondly.

“I see,” Lan Wangji does not see. 

He very much does not see why his brother should be allowed to call Wei Ying such a thing and it feels entirely inappropriate for the leader of a sect to be so close to a guest disciple for no reason. (He conveniently forgets the fact that he calls Wei Ying by his birth name and the fact that Wei Wuxian is currently a very promising cultivator taken under Lan Qiren’s private tutelage)

“I wished to speak with you privately, but as you are preoccupied I will come back later,” he says ignoring the inner musings of his mind that wish to end him prematurely, and moves to exit the room.

“Eh? Oh no, that’s okay! We finished what we were talking about, I need to get going anyway to meet up with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian gathers his papers from the table and gets up. “You two have a nice talk,” he bows towards Lan Xichen, gives Lan Wangji a wide smile, and leaves the room with his finished work.

Lan Wangji watches him go a little regretful that he essentially kicked the boy out, but not regretful enough to not feel relieved that he can interrogate his older brother about this in private. Said older brother is still smiling at him and Lan Wangji feels the urges of fratricide for the first time.

His brother drops the smile but not completely while letting out a long, entirely performative sigh. “Wangji,” he says in the same way one would lightly scold a misbehaving child. “If you want to be A-xian’s friend you need to put in more of an effort, not chase him away.”

Lan Wangji has decided that he no longer needs to speak with his brother. 

“Okay wait, wait! I’ll stop teasing now, take a seat,” his sect leader laughingly tries to placate him as Lan Wangji turns to exit. 

“Hmph,” Lan Wangji begrudgingly sits down in the spot Wei Ying had previously occupied. He takes his time to collect his thoughts before voicing them out to his brother who will undoubtedly tease him before offering any helpful advice. 

He’s proven right when he looks back up to his brother and sees him stifling his laughter into the palm of his hand. Lan Wangji looks longingly towards the door. By the time his brother composes himself enough to be able to respond, the second jade of Lan has also managed to calm his thoughts and is ready to receive guidance in this matter.

“Wangji,” his brother begins kindly, “why don’t you invite A-xian out to Caiyi. You want to be his friend, and from what I can tell he feels the same way.” Lan Wangji’s heart races at that. “An outing between just the two of you is a good way to make it clear that you enjoy his company and solidify the fact that you two are close enough to do so.”

Perhaps the teasing was worth enduring after all.

“Of course this will require you to stop running away from him like a frightened rabbit.”

He rescinds his previous statement.

After an admittedly productive conversation with his brother, Lan Wangji makes his way back to the Orchid Room for afternoon lectures. He barely makes it out of the residential area of Cloud Recesses before a frenzied looking disciple is approaching him, just barely staying within the no running rule.

“Lan-er-gongzi!” the disciple stops in front of him and bows quickly before speaking again. “The visiting disciples! There’s been an altercation! Or there’s going to be!”

This spurs the two to quickly make their way to where the visiting disciples are gathered. Lan Wangji thinks he has an idea of who is involved, and gets confirmation from the other disciple. 

The harried junior disciple nodded his head so frantically Lan Wangji was slightly worried that he would hurt himself. He followed the disciple to the Orchid Room where he found Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan engaged in what appeared to be a stalemate. Luckily a fight hadn’t broken out like the disciple that retrieved Lan Wangji had predicted. 

The two aggravated boys had drawn a crowd around them but upon seeing Lan Wangji it began to disperse apart from the Jiang Wanyin, Nie Huaisang, and the Jin disciples who were all gearing up to defend their sect heir. Wei Wuxian was the first to break their stalemate and turn towards Lan Wangji before averting his gaze with tense shoulders. 

Jin Zixuan had also turned to him and promptly bowed. “Apologies Lan-er-gongzi, I got carried away in our discussion and made inappropriate comments about Yunmeng Jinag’s xiaojie. Wei-gongzi was simply defending his shijie.”

Lan Wangji does not pay heed to gossip but he is aware enough of his peers to know that the Jin heir had likely made some unsavory comments about Wei Wuxian’s relationship with his shijie, a relationship that can very easily be misunderstood due to the ambiguity of Wei Ying’s place in the Jiang Sect. 

The second jade surreptitiously glances at Wei Wuxian to see his reaction, and he could see him looking at the other boy intently, quietly eying Jin Zixuan’s behaviour. Wei Wuxian seems to find what he is looking for and nods at the Jin sect heir, his face still serious and unsmiling but no longer tense.

“It’s exactly as Jin-gongzi stated. We’ve got it sorted though, don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” the head disciple of Yunmneg Jiang affirms the Jin sect heir to the bafflement of everyone involved it seems as the Jiang heir gapes at his shixiong in an undignified manner, and Nie Huaisang goes back and forth between the two with his eyes, the rest of his face hidden behind his fan. 

“Speaking ill of others is forbidden,” Lan Wangji declares reminding everyone of his role here. He himself feels a bit perplexed by the conclusion of the altercation. Or lack of altercation it would seem. Whatever it was that happened between Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan they had inexplicably managed to resolve it in the short time it took for a Lan disciple to fetch him. Nonetheless he had a duty to carry out. “Jin-gongzi will copy the texts regarding gossip and not making assumptions.”

The Jin heir winces the same way all visiting disciples do when assigned copying punishments, but nods in assent. Lan Wangji faces Wei Wuxian again and notices him looking back at him, and it takes Wangji a moment to realize that the other boy is waiting for a punishment to be assigned to him. 

Lan Qiren chooses this moment to walk in and saves his nephew from having to explain to Wei Wuxian that there is nothing to punish him for. 

Everyone takes it as their cue to find their seats and Lan Wangji pretends not to notice Wei Wuxian’s puzzled gaze pointed at the back of his head for the rest of the lecture.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng is confused.

Jiang Cheng wasn't expecting their stay at Gusu Lan’s Cloud Recesses to be exciting considering the sect had a reputation of strictness and lived like monks on a secluded mountain. No, he was not expecting the actual exchange to be fun, but he was expecting to fuck around whenever he could get away with it with Wei Wuxian. For all the grief he’d given the other boy about behaving himself he didn't actually think there was much Wei Wuxian could do to lose the sect face, but there was plenty the boy could do to irritate their teacher and consequently the man’s beloved nephew, but apart from causing a diplomatic incident Wei Wuxian would probably be fine. 

The exchange had been going pretty much how Jiang Cheng expected it to. The sect heirs building social connections with each other and Wei Wuxian doing everything he can to cause as much trouble as he wanted. His brother seems to be fixated on bothering the Lan sect’s second young master for reasons that Jiang Cheng doesn't even want to guess. Wei Wuxian might be shameless but he's not stupid, so why he is so intent on the guy who’s incharge of doling out punishments is beyond the Jiang sect heir.  

The fact of the matter is that everything’s been going fine.

And it should’ve continued to be fine. 

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what exactly happened between Wei Wuxian and Grandmaster Lan, but ever since then the former has been too busy with his extracurriculars to cause any mayhem. That doesn’t sound right, even in the privacy of Jiang Cheng’s mind, so the only logical conclusion is that Wei Wuxian is genuinely enjoying himself now. Now that he’s been given more room to do what he wants he feels the need to behave a little better

Which sounds even more ridiculous, but at least that thought has evidence. 

Jiang Cheng should feel relieved. He should be glad that the head disciple of the Jiang Sect is longer causing trouble, and consequently making their sect lose face. He should be happy with Wei Wuxian being given private lessons from a prominent figure from the Lan Sect, as it allows for a good connection between the Lan and Jiang sect without needing anything official tying them together. No trouble, classes are going well, he’s still fucking around for fun when they can get away with it, and everything is going perfectly fine.

Jiang Cheng should feel fine. 

But he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t feel fine when he sees Wei Wuxian engrossed in a debate with Lan Qiren. He doesn’t feel fine when he sees Wei Wuxian absorbed in his ridiculous inventions, and turns down an invitation to Caiyi because he’s busy. Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel fine when he sees Wei Wuxian actively seeking out other members of the Lan Sect. When other members of the Lan sect seek Wei Wuxian out. When Lan Xichen calls Wei Wuxian A-xian. When Wei Wuxian gifts Grandmaster Lan a completely original invention when he's never done the same for Jiang Cheng’s father. When Wei Wuxian looks so settled and happy in a place that isn’t home. 

Like it would be completely fine staying here.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel fine at all. And now Wei Wuxian continues to act in ways that don’t make sense to him at all.

What the fuck was that? Jiang Cheng thinks to himself after the whole ordeal with Jin Zixuan. He’s glad that it didn’t escalate into a physical altercation but he is so fucking confused. Jin Zixuan insulted his sister only to turn around and apologize the second Lan Wangji shows up. Because what, Wei Wuxian called him out on it? Like the prick has ever cared before. Did something happen when he wasn’t looking?

The Jiang Sect heir doesn’t trust that one bit. 

Which is why he finds himself after classes confronting the Jin Sect heir before he attends his punishment in the library pavilion. He goes straight up to the peacock right before he enters the building and glares at him. The other sect heir only raises an eyebrow in question, that just further irritates the Jiang heir. 

“What the hell was that about?” Jiang Cheng cuts to the chase, not in the mood for false pleasantries. 

“Am I to know what you speak of, or am I just supposed to guess?” is the haughty response that is to be expected of someone who grew up having his ass kissed by sycophants. Jiang Cheng wants to wipe that condescending look off his face with his boot heel.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jiang Cheng spits out. “That entire thing before class. What do you get off insulting my sister only to take it back right after? As if anyone believes that you don’t actually mean it.”

“Would you prefer I continued to insult her?” Jin Zixuan asks rhetorically. “The issue’s already been resolved, and if you hadn’t noticed I was on my way to complete a punishment for the comments I made about your sister, so if we’re done here.”

“Resolved? You think it’s resolved just because you gave an apology to save face in front of the Lan?”

“You’re free to think what you like,” and with that Jin Zixuan shoves past the Jiang heir and makes his way inside the library pavilion. 

That asshole.  

Jiang Cheng isn’t done with the bastard yet, so he angrily follows him inside to really rip the other sect heir a new one. Who does he think he is to insult his sister in such a public manner? Jin Zixuan has no care for what that will do for her reputation, and his sister, his kind-hearted sister, does not deserve that from anyone and especially not her own idiot fiance.

The Jin heir ignores him as they make their way further into the library moving past the numerous shelves of scrolls and binded literature, and he notices something move in the corner of his eye. The next moment he turns his head and sees Wei Wuxian approaching him from a table with talismans scattered around what Jiang Cheng assumes is some kind of array formation. 

“Jiang Cheng? What’s wrong?” Wei Wuxian’s concerned voice asks him. It’s then that Jiang Cheng notices that Nie Huaisang and Zewu-jun are also present in the pavilion, where they have stood up from the table of talismans but make no move to involve themselves in the situation that has played out in front of them, electing to spectate instead.. 

A part of him hesitates. It’s one thing to confront Jin Zixuan on his own or even with Wei Wuxian, it’s another to do so in front of other sect heirs.

“I have unfinished business with Jin-gongzi,” propriety wins out and he decides to diplomatically imply that this is none of their business without potentially offending anyone by outright telling them to get lost.

Wei Wuxian frowns then looks over at Jin Zixuan who has decided to stop ignoring the situation, even though it looks like he would rather be anywhere else. Well that’s what you get for talking shit, Jiang Cheng thinks viciously. Wei Wuxian directs his gaze back at Jiang Cheng with a look asking him to elaborate. 

“I wanted to make it clear to Jin Zixuan that his words and actions against a-jie are damaging to her reputation and that he has no right to disparage her in such a way.” 

The other people in the room look towards Jiang Cheng sympathetically, and he can practically hear the Jin heir grinding his teeth in response as he scoffs, but Jiang Cheng is no longer paying attention to him. Instead he’s watching Wei Wuxian as he looks at Jin Zixuan’s reaction with a bored, unimpressed expression that would look more at home on a certain Lan disciplinarian. Seeing this Jiang Cheng can’t help but feel crossed, because clearly Wei Wuxian agrees that Jin Zixuan needed to be taken down a peg.

Then why did he do nothing? Why did he back down so quickly when Lan Wangji showed up? Why has he changed so much? 

Why is he trying so hard to impress the Lan sect when he’s never cared about such things back home?

“Jin-gongzi was out of line, but he’s already been assigned a punishment so there’s no reason to drag this out, Jiang-gongzi,” Lan Xichen states diplomatically. Spoken in ignorance of the severity of the situation, or like someone who simply does not care.

“With all due respect Zewu-jun, this is a matter that is not so easily resolved,” Jiang Cheng responds annoyed, and finally turns towards the other parties present. “This is not Jin-gongzi’s first offense against my sister, and I have a hard time believing that one punishment will change his behaviour.” He can see Wei Wuxian in his peripheral tense and dart his eyes between the two sect heirs. Unexpectedly it’s Jin Zixuan who responds.

“If your sister has such an issue with me she should speak with me herself instead of hiding behind her brother like a coward.”

Jiang Cheng moves before he thinks and grabs the other boy by the lapels, but before he can do anything he’s being grabbed by the wrists and dragged away from the pompous asshole by Wei Wuxian. He glares at his sect’s head disciple even as Wei Wuxian calls out.

“Jin Zixuan! Watch your mouth, is one punishment not enough that you’re so quick to cause more trouble?” The Jin heir actually looks cowed by that, due to the irony of being called out by Wei Wuxian over such a thing. Jiang Cheng’s anger continues to simmer even as Zewu-jun tries to de-escalate the situation moving between the two visiting sect heirs while Nie Huaisang hides behind his fan. The fact that Wei Wuxian so easily subdues the other boy with nothing but his words and makes Jiang Cheng look uncouth in comparison does nothing to help his mood. 

“And you! Don’t think you’re off the hook!”

Jin Zixuan: “...”

Wei Wuxian: “...huh?”

Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang continue to watch the situation unfold.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what Jiang Cheng means by that and in his confusion his grip on the aggravated boy loosens enough for the Jiang heir to roughly pull away from him.

“After all a-jie has done for you! How could you back down so quickly when defending her honor?”

“Jiang Cheng! What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian’s confused expression only serves to further aggravate the Jiang heir. Realistically Jiang Cheng knows. He knows that had Wei Wuxian had started throwing fists the way they both wanted to, it's not Jin Zixuan who would’ve gotten into the most trouble even if he fought back, and even if he was the one who started it. Jiang Cheng knows that nothing good would have come from escalating the situation before Lan Wangji showed up. He knows that.

But he can’t bring himself to care about that right now.

“Do you think yourself so wise now, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng can’t stop himself saying. “Do you think that just because the Lan are giving you special treatment that everyone now has to listen to you?”

The two boys are in an entirely different conversation now, paying no mind to their unwilling audience. Even as Lan Xichen places a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder in an attempt to redirect his attention to calm him down, the other boy doesn’t pay him any heed.  

“What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian repeats himself.

“Don’t act like you don’t know!” Jiang Cheng shouts. The boy gears himself up to say more when suddenly Wei Wuxian’s eyes dart past him and widen.

“Wei Ying?”

“Lan Zhan!”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng and I’ve just had a disagre-”

“Don’t you dare brush me off just because he’s here.”

Wei Wuxian looks incredulously at him like he can’t believe Jiang Cheng is the one drawing this out in public, but Jiang Cheng is too angry to care.

“Do you think that just because you mess around with these frivolous trinkets that it means you can do whatever you want without any care for how it looks?” Jiang Cheng picks a talisman off the table that they’ve unconsciously moved towards. The talisman sparks in the boy’s grip. “That you're so shameless, you’d openly try to gain the favour of the Lan sect despite belonging to the Jiang?”

He sees the other sect heirs tense in anticipation as Nie Huaisang shushes and holds onto Lan Xichen and Jin Zixuan watches on with narrowed eyes. Lan Wangji is the only one who moves forward to try to end whatever argument the Jiang boys are having but he doesn’t get the chance to before Jiang Cheng takes advantage of Wei Wuxian’s bafflement over the whole situation and pushes the talisman onto his head disciple’s chest and shoves him hard onto the table.

The other heirs finally move to pull the two boys away from each other but before anyone can say anything a surge of energy and a blazing light knocks everyone off their feet, and for a moment there is nothing at all.

Jiang Cheng unceremoniously crashes to the ground, and judging by the multiple thuds and groans sounding around him he's not the only one. The Jiang heir opens his eyes and is met with the dark night sky, which is only the first problem. His first thought is that Wei Wuxian’s latest contraption has resulted in transporting them outside of the library and into the back fields of Cloud Recesses somewhere until he remembers something. 

It was only wu shi a moment ago, why is it suddenly so dark? 

Jiang Cheng quickly gathers himself and stands up from the ground he'd been lying on to surveille the area around him. He sees Jin Zixuan practically kick Nie Huaisang away in his motion to stand up, sending the Nie heir back to the ground with a pitiful cry. Zewu-jun and Lan-er-gongzi are already standing, the former examining his brother for injuries. 

The next thing he notices is empty village stalls and what seems to be a small inn. The stalls look to either be abandoned or just poorly maintained, regardless it’s obviously a place that hadn’t been successful in selling or trading goods. 

“Where are we? What happened?” Nie Huaisang’s whiny voice calls out catching the attention of the other sect heirs. 

The twin jades of Lan give each other a look, and Lan Xichen steps forward and says, “The transportation array must have activated when Wuxian fell onto the table. Although it’s odd that he doesn’t seem to have been transported with us.”

“So this all happened because of Jiang Wanyin,” Jin Zixuan mutters under his breath.

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to snipe back but is cut off by a strong gust of wind that kicks up the dirt from the ground onto everyone’s robes while they cover their eyes with their sleeves. 

“Perhaps we should prioritize finding shelter and figuring out where exactly we were sent,” Lan Xichen offers as a suggestion that is definitely not a suggestion. Something about Zewu-jun taking control of the situation despite his lack of control in the library is a bit ironic. 

Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan glare at each other for a moment before they both look away with matching scowls. Lan Wangji begins to walk in the direction of the inn with Nie Huaisang eagerly moving to follow him. Lan Xichen turns to the two of them with a frown.

“I understand that the two of you have unresolved matters, but I hope that you can put those aside for now,” the Lan sect heir says politely. “We have more immediate problems that need to be handled first.”

Both boys grumble in assent and with that they make their way to the inn after Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang. They walk past more empty stalls, and even just from a brief glance it’s obvious how run down the place is, how underdeveloped it is with how uneven the dirt floor in front of the inn is. 

Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang were already inside trying to talk to a woman who is presumably the innkeeper. The woman sees them come in and tenses. Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t pay much attention to it. She’s likely just intimidated to see several young masters in her small inn, even if she doesn’t recognize that they’re sect heirs of four out of the five major clans. 

“Ah! Perfect timing, the innkeeper is having our rooms set up,” Nie Huaisang greets cheerfully trying to unsubtly ignore the tension among the group at the moment. 

“Xiongzhang she says that the closest cultivation clan is Gusu Lan,” Lan Wangji informs them which should be good news, but given the way Lan Xichen frowns at his brother it isn’t.

“So we’re quite far from the other cultivation sects.”

Nie Huaisang continues speaking with the innkeeper, who has relaxed minutely during their conversation as the young master asks about their food selection and the kind of people who reside in this area. Apparently they’ve all congregated closer to the river that runs down from the mountains, but the innkeeper’s grandfather decided to stay here because there were enough people coming through to get by still. The landscape had changed a lot over the years since then so her and her family were also thinking of moving closer to the village that’s been settled, but for now they’ve decided to stay until they can figure out what to do with the building.

The innkeeper continues and talks about the kind villagers who supply their food despite the lack of profit, and she speaks very fondly of the apothecary that comes by to check in on her young son every week. 

“This town seems to be quite far from any minor cultivation sects. How do the people deal with any yaos and things of that nature?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand the point of this inquiry. Obviously they have no choice but to send a letter or someone directly to appeal their problem to a sect and wait until they send their cultivators to deal with it. It’s going to be inefficient because they’re so far away, but unless they want more casualties they have to get used to spotting things quickly because of how long it’ll take to request aid.

“Rogue cultivators mostly. We can’t often afford the fees for sect cultivators if they even decide to send anyone in the first place,” the innkeeper replies. “The last few years have been better off though, because of the new talismans that redirect resentful energy we don’t have to worry too much about fierce corpses.”

Talismans? All five young masters share a look at that.

“Talismans?” asks Nie Huaisang.

“Yes talismans! Our local apothecary is fairly skilled with them, and because of how far we are from the cultivation sects it’s quite difficult for us to get them,” the innkeeper’s expression brightens at this topic. “But luckily our apothecary is very knowledgeable when it comes to talismans, so we don’t have to worry about lower level monsters anymore.” Miss innkeeper seems to trust this apothecary far too much on a subject that only trained cultivators would be so knowledgeable of. If anything this apothecary sounds like a charlatan. 

“I see,” Lan Xichen addresses the innkeeper. “Well thank you for your service, madam, we would like to go to our rooms now.” Seems that Zewu-jun isn’t sold on her tale either.

The innkeeper watches them for a moment before nodding. “Of course young masters, my son will show you to your rooms.”

They are led to three separate rooms by a boy who looks no older than twelve, and who eyes them wearily as he stops in front of each door. He asks them courteously if they would like to have dinner in their rooms, so the sect heirs order their food and go into one of the rooms to talk. 

They settle in with Nie Huaisang going straight for the bed, Jin Zixuan taking a seat at the table, while the lans continue to stand near the door and Jinag Cheng goes to look out the window. Lan Wangji places a silencing talisman on the door before anyone talks. 

“That apothecary sure sounds impressive,” comments Nie Huaisang idly playing with his fan.

The Jin heir scoffs at that. “Yes, how impressive. Scamming an entire town into thinking they’re safe with made up talismans.”

“Indeed. It is something that we should look into before we leave,” agrees Lan Xichen. Unsurprisingly Lan Wangji does not say anything.

“Let’s just eat our food and send a letter to the Lan sect so they aren’t so freaked out about our abrupt disappearance,” says Jin Zixuan as he rubs his temples. 

Nie Huaisang nods and hums in thought before speaking again. “Isn’t it interesting though? That apothecary must be quite convincing if they’ve managed to keep this charade up for so long.”

A knock on the door draws everyone’s attention.

“Well that was fast.”

Lan Wangji opens the door and reveals the innkeeper. She lowers herself and says, “Apologies young masters, but your food is still being prepared. There is someone here who would like to speak with you in the meantime.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but my companions and I are quite tired right now,” Lan Xichen smiles politely but the woman did not budge.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” a different voice proclaimed. 

The innkeeper steps aside and allows a man to come into view. This man looks older and regards the people in the room with a stern expression. 

“Greetings young masters, this one is Liu Dawei and I am the local magistrate,” the man introduces himself with a deep bow. When he comes up from it there is a suspicious look in his eye, clearly untrusting.

Jiang Cheng can’t help but be offended. They’ve done nothing to warrant such treatment, for fuck’s sake they’re sect cultivators. Jiang Cheng hopes that whatever the man needs them for will be resolved quickly so they can leave this place and go back to Cloud Recesses soon.

“Greetings,” Lan Xichen salutes back at the man, “My brother and I are of Gusu Lan.” Everyone else follows suit.

When they’re done with their greetings Jiang Cheng notices someone else behind the man. The town magistrate is by no means a small person so he blocks the other person from Jiang Cheng’s view.

“I apologize for bothering you when you have traveled so far, but it is not often that sect cultivators venture to this area,” the chief states, “My companion and I just have a few questions for you, afterwards we will be on our way.” It is then that the man steps away in order for his companion to step forward.

For a moment Jiang Cheng is stunned by the sight of a familiar set of piercing eyes.

“Wei Wuxian?”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian stared dumbfounded at the array formation on the table from where he was sprawled on the floor several chi away from it. His ears ring uncomfortably as his blood rushes to his head and it takes a moment for his eyes to refocus before he sees the glow of the array before him.

“What just happened?” he said aloud to no one because there was no longer anyone else in the library.

Shit.

He looks around still slightly dazed from the impact before he frantically crawls back to the table. The lines of the array faintly glow from the residual energy that had powered it and Wei Wuxian watches as the last vestiges die out leaving nothing but the light smoking of the singed lines and the disarray of papers on the floor as the only evidence that it was used at all. He’s staring so deeply at the table he barely registers the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder. 

“Wei Wuxian.”

The boy slowly turns around with wide eyes that land on Grandmaster Lan. 

“Lan-xiansheng,” he whispers gravely with his shaking voice. 

“They've disappeared.”

The air in the room shifts into one of open hostility. Both the magistrate and the innkeeper glance at the newcomer in concern, making it clear that the name does mean something to them. The unnamed person has frozen at the call of someone else’s name. Lan Wangji watches on in silence and wonders at the reaction of this person, as his eyes flit over to the Jiang heir who continues to look on as if he’s seen a ghost. Lan Wangji can’t find find it in himself to blame Jiang Wanyin when this person’s appearance is strikingly similar to that of the boy he had seen only moments ago. But upon closer inspection Wangji notes the softness of her jaw and her smaller stature. Her eyes narrowed even further at them as she visibly tensed, and Lan Wangji can’t help but be put off by how it reminds him of Wei Ying’s behaviour during the altercation he had with Jin Zixuan right before classes, but aside from her face Wangji can find little resemblance at all to the kind, mischievous boy that they had mistaken her for. Her eyes are cold and hard, watching Jiang Wanyin, who starts to squirm under her scrutiny, like she wants to flay off his skin and dig into his bones to scrape the truth out of them.

“Liu-xiansheng, Zhang-taitai, may this one speak to the young masters alone,” the young girl asks politely, but doesn’t look away from Jiang Wanyin. 

“Shuilan?” The innkeeper looks wearily between the sect heirs and this Shuilan individual. Lan Wangji spies the reactions of his reluctant companions and sees how they seize her up, even his brother is cautious of the “charlatan”. If this person even is the apothecary the innkeeper spoke so highly of. Wangji can't bring himself to agree with the others after seeing how unconventional uses of talismans are so easily overlooked, especially after the progress Wei Ying was able to make when he was taken seriously. Nevertheless it's in their best interest to approach this person carefully seeing how trusted they are by even the head of the village. He keeps an eye on the window as he stays at the back of the group.

The magistrate eyes his companion with a look of understanding, and after a moment he nods to her. 

“We’ll be just outside if you need,” with a pat on the shoulder the older man gently guides the reluctant innkeeper who leaves the room with unease written all over her countenance. Shuilan nods to them and watches them exit the room with her hand gripping the skirt of her outerobes. Another difference, Lan Wangji notes, is that her robes are faded and gray, not black like the robes Wei Ying favours for himself.

The door closes and Shuilan wastes no time putting up a new silencing talisman.

Predictably that is not well received. 

“And what is that for?” queried Jin Zixuan with his arms crossed over his chest, visibly offended by the action.

Shuilan raised a brow and looked the young master in yellow up and down. “The Jin sect must have become destitute of quality education if their disciples cannot recognize a basic talisman,” her voice lower than when she had addressed the magistrate. 

The Jin heir’s face turns red as he works himself up to reply. “You-!”

“Who are you people?” she asks, her calm voice juxtaposing her hostile demeanor as she once again locks eyes with Jiang Wanyin. “And why are you here?”

“What, are cultivators not allowed here?” is the half-mocking, half-insulted response. “From the sounds of it the people here would benefit from the presence of honourable cultivators, considering they’re desperate enough to fall for the wiles of a fraud.”

The young girl who clearly wasn’t taking the Jiang heir seriously looked confused at the mention of the village’s supposed talisman master. She stayed silent.

“Honestly if they knew what real cultivation looked like they’d know better than to listen to an apothecary of all people when it comes to resentful beasts,” adds the Jin heir. “They’d get someone who actually knew how to do the job.”

A hollow chuckle rings out through the room and brings back everyone’s attention to their unknown guest. The chuckling continues until her arms are wrapped around herself clutched at her sides, and she is leaning her back against the door for support because she is laughing herself to tears. The young masters watch her wearily, as Nie Huaisang lowers his fan about to ask her what’s so funny, but is cut off.

“How ironic,” she pauses as she tries to get her laughter under control. “for a Jin to care whether or not a job is done properly, when they barely even check for problems in the first place but still expect to be compensated.”

“How dare-!?”

“I’ll ask again; who are you people?”

Do not interrupt others, Lan Wangji recites as he thinks to himself. Wangji doesn’t know why this person is so suspicious of them, but there must be a reason, otherwise the village chief wouldn’t have let her interrogate them alone. Wangji also notes how focused she is on both Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan. Not once had she looked directly at the other people in the room after her brief glance around to see how many people there were. Something had happened before and it involved the Jin, and possibly to a lesser extent, Jiang disciples. She’s stopped laughing but continues to lean back on the door in a lazy manner, one that would have had Shufu scolding her to carry herself more respectfully, as she tilts her head to the side, watching them. 

“Guniang, we promise we don’t mean any harm,” Xiongzhang tries to assure her but she doesn’t even bother to acknowledge him, “My companions and I are here by accident.”

“Cultivators don’t come here anymore,” she informs them like they should already know this. “They’ve deemed this place a wasteland and don’t bother sending their disciples no matter how many times the villagers ask, plead, or beg. Saying that the land is cursed,” She is outright glaring at them now. Unconsciously Lan Wangji feels himself move back at the force of her glare despite the fact that it isn’t directed towards him. He sees Jiang Wanyin grab the hilt of his sword as he seizes Shuilan up, and Shuilan watches him bored.

“Are you going to attack me, Young Master Jiang?”

The boy halts in his movements before he seems to freeze entirely, his gaze dropped to her waist where she has her hand rests languidly. 

“That sword,” the Jiang heir says as if in a trance. “Give it to me.”

This demand is met with confusion from the other cultivators. But Shuilan seems to read something in that statement.

The next moment a sword is drawn faster than anyone in the room could register what was happening. The Jiang heir has his head tilted back as his throat was bared in front of the tip of a familiar sword. Wangji faintly registers a scream and the sound of two other swords being drawn but he doesn’t pay any mind to that, because in that moment Wangji understands why the Jiang heir spoke such a demand.

“Suibian,” Lan Wangji breathes out. Wei Ying’s sword, he thinks dumbly.

Shuilan does not spare him a glance, her eyes completely trained on the boy she has at sword-point. Not even when both Jin Zixuan and Lan Xichen had moved quickly to draw their own swords at her, as tendrils of spiritual energy began to emit from her.

“Guniang. Lower your sword.” his brother orders but is ignored.

“Who do you think you are?” she growls at Jiang Wanyin. “After everything your sects have done to my family. Who do you think you are to demand my sword from me?”

“I don’t even know who you are!”

“Bullshit! You even called me by his name. What, his death wasn’t enough? You people still think you’re entitled to his property!?”

What is she talking about?

“I know that isn’t your sword! Why do you have a sword that doesn’t belong to you?” the Jiang heir meets her with the same accusatory tone.

“Doesn’t belong to me?” this person whispers in quiet rage. “As if any sect deserves my father’s sword more than me!”

…

…

… What?

“What!?” four different voices cry out in unison but Wangji isn’t paying attention to them. Wangji stares at the young girl and fails to comprehend the situation that they’re now in.

How is it possible for Wei Ying to have a child, especially one this age? If her appearance wasn’t proof enough then the fact that she has his sword is enough to confirm some kind of connection. This is too specific to be a coincidence. Perhaps this is a distant relative and that’s why they look so similar. Wei Changze’s family was largely unknown other than that they were common people, and nobody even knows Cangse Sanren’s birth name let alone her family before she was taken in by Baoshan Sanren. Wangji feels as if he has entered a different dimension.

Wait.

The array.

Lan Wangji turns to his brother who had lowered his sword during the confusion. “Xiongzhang. The array.”

His brother’s eyes widen in realization.

“Guniang!” he called out to the girl whose sword was still at Jiang Wanyin’s throat, “Please lower your sword. I believe we can explain what happened and our presence here if you would allow us,” Lan Xichen practically pleads. 

The girl finally turns to look at him, and stops at his robes. “Gusu Lan?” she murmurs, more to herself as she squints at Lan Xichen and freezes at his face. She unceremoniously fumbles her sword, and Jiang Wanyin takes this moment to scramble away from her, as she steps back in what could be taken as fear. She turns to Lan Xichen completely and in doing so, she catches Lan Wangji’s eye. Wangji watches as her mouth gapes open in surprise, and it is not uncommon for people to stop at the sight of him and his brother, but the way her eyes shake make it clear that this isn’t about his appearance.

She recognizes him. 

In this dimly lit room, with nothing but the moonlight and a poorly placed candle to illuminate it, this girl who he has never seen before recognizes him.

“Guniang, I think we know what happened now.”

“Time Travel.”

It’s said incredulously, and Lan Wangji can’t blame them for their disbelief. It is a ridiculous notion as such a thing doesn’t exist, but apparently that is what had happened. Brother had come across Wei Ying working on a thought experiment in the library based on an esoteric text on time manipulation their uncle had let the student borrow from the restricted section of the library. It was an array that would not only trap a resentful spirit, but also somehow freeze it in time so that it wouldn’t be able to fight against the array before the cultivators are able to eliminate it. We Ying was working on a way to reverse it, and so he created a talisman that would counter it directly by having it move objects forward in time. It was all theoretical and the only purpose of the talisman was to reverse the effects of the array, it wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a thought experiment. Wei Ying wasn’t even going to activate it. Unfortunately he didn’t account for his sect brother accidentally activating it in a fit of anger.

“An array that my father was working on was accidentally activated and it managed to send five sect heirs roughly twenty years into the future,” she deadpans, “Did I get that right?”

It was a rhetorical question but Lan Wangji watches his brother nod solemnly.

“Yes, that appears to be what happened.”

Wei Shuilan sighs as she rubs her face with both hands. When she uncovers her face she looks exhausted as she mutters to herself, “Yeah sure, this might as well happen.”

Shuilan had visibly been put off by the Twin Jades of Lan. She looked at brother like he was a ghost she never wanted to see again, before comporting herself into something unreadable. Her body language was stiff and her face was devoid of any emotion as she left the room to inform the magistrate and innkeeper that she would take some more time to speak with the young masters after assuring them that they were not here to cause any harm, and that they will be on their way after a couple days to find their bearings. 

After she came back in, Lan Xichen had launched into his explanation and offered to answer any questions she wanted in order to prove they were telling the truth. 

She had asked Jiang Wanyin if he had ever owned dogs. Something in the way she asked made it clear that the question was not to be taken at face value, and it seemed only Jiang Wanyin was privy to what she was really asking. He tensed and answered ‘yes’, and nothing more. For some reason that seemed to be enough. 

Wangji was still processing everything.

This was Wei Ying’s daughter. Wei Ying’s daughter. A daughter that he had likely after getting married. To a woman. Wangji couldn’t even console himself with the notion that perhaps Wei Ying had adopted her, because she looks exactly like him, had she been born a son there would be no difference between the two of them. The first time that Lan Wangji finally acknowledges his growing feelings for the mischievous boy is when he is confronted with said boy's future daughter. A daughter that he couldn't have had with Lan Wangji because they are two men. 

But this also raises more questions. 

Why is she here so far away from the cultivation world if she’s Wei Ying’s daughter? 

Suddenly Wangji remembers something.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji speaks, and Wei Shuilan looks at him so wearily he hesitates for a moment, but he needs to know. “His death. You mentioned it earlier.”

Wei Shuilan flinches so hard one would think she’d been slapped. 

“Yes.”

Nie Huaisang gasps behind his fan as the other heirs wince in surprise. Jiang Wanyin has a complicated expression on his face, likely thinking of the last interaction he had with the other boy. 

“I don’t wish to speak on this matter, and if you five really are from the past it’s better for you to have as little information as possible, in order to not change things so drastically,” she states quickly and sternly, leaving no room for questions. Unfortunately Nie Huaisang, unable to take a hint, or more accurately, manages to dodge the hint that they’ve been slapped with.

“Why? Do you think that it’ll change things?”

Wei Shuilan sighs again as if she expected this, and perhaps she had. If she recognized him and his brother it is a great possibility that she had met Nie Huaisang before, especially considering Wei Ying’s friendship with him.

“It is unlikely considering that the world hadn’t collapsed upon your arrival, but I would still prefer not to risk it, Nie-gongzi.”

“What do you mean by that?” it’s Jin Zixuan who asks this time. It appears that as long as they do not ask about Wei Ying, questions are welcome. 

“Your appearing here is likely a divergence in the timeline itself, and seeing as how time is still passing on as normal your actions won’t negatively impact this timeline,” is the calmly stated answer. “However, I say likely because we would need to ask your counterparts if they recall this happening during the disciple exchange of that year.”

“Why don’t we do that then?” interjects Jiang Cheng impatiently. “Hell, why are we still here when we should be flying to the nearest sect and asking for their help?”

“Yes, young master Jiang, what a good idea,” Wei Shuilan says sarcastically, “Why don’t the five of you, highly recognizable individuals, go fly around the Jianghu without any sense of direction of what you’re looking for in the dead of night? That’s not suspicious at all. Especially in an area that cultivators are known to avoid.”

Jiang-gongzi’s face turns red as he huffs and turns away from her. 

“You’re all tired and are likely drained of spiritual energy after the array sent you here. It’s better to rest and then come up with a course of action.” Despite the logic of it, Wangji can see Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan wanting to disagree with her. How fitting that it’s Wei Ying’s daughter that so easily gets under their skin.

“Besides, even if you do make it to a sect, they’ll likely imprison you first.”

“What!?” Nie Huaisang pales at the notion.

“You’re planning on showing up in the middle of the night, wearing the faces of their sect leaders and sect heirs. The sect’s have grown ridiculously paranoid over the years, although, the Jin sect will likely just assume Jin-gongzi here is another bastard child,” Wei Shuilan casually informs them. “And if a minor sect sees you and where you’re approaching from they’ll think you’re demons.”

“Demons?” Jin Zixuan looks sour at the comment about the Jin sect.

“Yes, demons. We’re quite close to the Burial Mounds. It’s why cultivators don’t come here anymore, the cowards,” she spits out bitterly.

“Wait wait,” Nie Huaisang lowers his fan in confusion, “How is the nearest sect Gusu Lan if we’re near the Burial Mounds?”

That’s a valid question.

Shuilan shrugs, “It’s a different Burial Mounds.”

“...”

“Well not entirely different I suppose. The Burial Mounds that you know of was getting cleansed before the person in charge of the cleansing had died, so the purification went unfinished. Though he wasn’t able to purify the entire place, the sects had already started dumping their problems into a different area near here, and what was left of the original mounds moved to it.”

“How is that even possible!?” Jin Zixuan yells out terrified at the prospect.

“It gained sentience and moved to where massed amounts of resentful energy had started to gather. A lot of sects ended up either perishing, or were displaced in an attempt to save themselves.”

A stunned silence falls over them, as Wei Shuilan watches on in amusement but doesn't smile. How odd to see the daughter of such cheerful person not smile.

“Wei-Guniang,” Lan Xichen starts, “Would you mind assisting us?”

He is met with three dubious expressions but he doesn’t look away from Wei Shuilan. Lan Wangji agrees with his brother. Wangji understands that a child is not their parents, he understands that immensely, but if there is someone who can help them with their unconventional talisman problem, it would be Wei Ying’s daughter. The daughter that no doubt is the one providing this village with their protective talismans that are able to keep out problems coming from the Burial Mounds. A daughter who is apparently also an apothecary. Wangji won’t deny that he is curious about the life she’s lived. How Wei Ying had raised her.

Wei Shuilan eyes them with an unreadable expression. She has no reason to help them, she could very easily just send them on their way as they fumble around in the future, and Wangji hopes that she has even a shred of her father’s kindness in her. After a tense silence she nods in assent.

“Thank you, Wei-Guniang,” his brother bows, and Wangji and Nie Huasiang follow suit as the other two copy reluctantly.

The girl waves her arms in front of her with an expression of discomfort as she tells them to get up, “There’s no need to bow. I’d need to be another kind of prick to leave you on your own after all of that,” she rubs the back of her neck in a movement that is more reminiscent of her father than anything else she’s done this entire exchange. “And you don’t need to call me guniang, just my name is fine.”

With that they make plans to meet again in the morning and she bids them goodnight. 

“So that was Wei-xiong’s daughter,” Nie Huaisang muses aloud.

“She sure seems like it,” Jin Zixuan scoffs, “She’s as disrespectful as he is.”

“She was under the impression that we were here with ill intentions,” Lan Xichen rationalizes.

“She still should’ve treated me with respect,” argues Jiang Wanyin. “Her father is Wei Wuxian, so I'm as good as her uncle.”

“If you’re her uncle, why is she here and not at the Jiang Sect,” Nie Huaisang asks unthinkingly eliciting a chuckle from the Jin heir.

Jiang Wanyin whips his head towards the Nie heir and glares with the wrath of a thousand suns at him. 

“I’m just saying!” Nie Huaisang goes to defend himself, “Isn’t it weird? She’s clearly his daughter, but she lives next to the Burial Mounds of all places, and seems to really hate sect cultivators. Aren’t you curious?” he asks as he looks around at the rest of them.

“We shouldn’t,” Lan Wangji speaks up, “Her father is dead, it would be uncouth to ask her about it.” And if he can't bring himself to say that Wei Ying is dead that is nobody's business but his own.

Nobody refutes him, but the silence has become awkward.

“We should go to our rooms and sleep. We need to be well rested for tomorrow,” Lan Xichen decides and motions for Wangji to follow him, and Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang both make their way to their room. 

“This is quite a predicament we’re in, but who would have thought the first person we’d meet in the future would be A-xian’s daughter,” says Lan Xichen on the way to their room.

Lan Wangji can’t help but think it fitting, that if Wei Wuxian wasn’t the one involved in such an unconventional predicament, it would be his child in his place.

Wei Shuilan goes home after an eventful night. The innkeeper, Zhang-taitai, had insisted that she stay the night as it had already gotten so late, but Shuilan couldn’t stay. She needed to clear her head and she couldn’t do so under the same roof as those people. The cool night air stung her skin as she walked back to her house. She makes her way inside, past the piles of wires and coils on her work table and the organized jars of herbs shelved on her walls. She goes to the room at the back of the office and sits on the bed that's been pushed to the side against the wall. The window above the head of the bed allows the moonlight to stream in. She sits on the edge of the mattress and thinks while she looks out the window as if the moon will give her the answers that she seeks, has been seeking so desperately throughout her whole life. She puts her head in her hands, heavy with a grief she hadn’t felt in a long time crash onto her as she breathes deeply through her mouth. 

She doesn’t want to help. 

Eat shit, she wants to tell them.

She wants to scream. She wants to cry, She wants to sleep and wake up and find that all of this was some bullshit dream she had because she was working with yingsu and accidentally inhaled some of the powder while preparing the soup.

But she thinks of her baba. She thinks of him and his unfailing conviction to help people who need it, regardless of who they are. How he never needed a reason to help someone, just that he could help them. She thinks of her a-die and how he gave her the skills that she has now, and how he would want her to use them to do good. That’s why she’s here in this no-name village, instead of making a name for herself in the cultivation world, where they’ll all turn on you when you no longer bend over backwards for them. 

Wei Shuilan takes another deep breath. She’s not going to sleep tonight. 

She pushes off the bed and gets to work.

Chapter Text

Wei Shuilan holds grudges. 

Anyone who knows her well would say that this is a defining trait of hers. She remembers insults, threats, times when people have intentionally hurt her, and while she isn't vindictive she is petty. Contrary to popular belief this is not a trait that she shared with her late father Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian did not hold petty grudges unless they really got under his skin or it was over something he believed to be important. If Wei Wuxian remembered every person who treated him poorly and did something about it, the Jin sect would have a massive decrease in numbers. No, Wei Wuxian only remembered wrongdoings done to the people he cares about, but rarely ever for himself. For himself he forgets, forgives, or truly just doesn't care about transgressions against him, and while many believed that it was due to his poor memory that he could move on so easily, it was more accurate to say that it was a deliberate tactic to keep himself happy. The people he'd forget were often ones tied to bad memories, of people belittling him due to his lack of status despite his excellence as a cultivator. 

No, Wei Wuxian did not hold grudges.

Lan Wangji did.

Wei Shuilan held grudges and it was a trait she inherited from her other father, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, the light bearing lord. In fact, it was his pettiness that allowed Shuilan to change her surname from Lan to Wei.

And now Wei Shuilan, while she meditates as a substitute for the sleep that she had forgone last night in favour of writing a letter asking her older brother for assistance in this matter, and working on potential array formations and their subsequent countering talismans, realizes with a growing clarity that she now has to interact with a younger version of her a-die.

And that the aforementioned teenager has no idea who he is to her.

Wei Shuilan thinks with confidence that she would be able to act indifferent to the other displaced young masters while helping them find a way back, but not to her a-die. It’ll be a miracle if they don’t notice that she behaves differently with him, and an even bigger one if they don’t call her out on it considering how entitled they feel to any information that she can give them. She hopes her brother is able to come soon. Shuilan received a reply this morning just half a shichen ago, and she hopes that he comes soon because there's no way she’ll be able to do this alone. 

The wind blows softly through the open window into her bedroom and she remembers to take a breath. She opens her eyes and breathes out deeply. She feels her qi circulate around her, eyes flutter shut once more, and this time when she opens them they are a warm gold. Tendrils of gold weave around her as it retreats back into her body, and her eyes settle back into their usual light coloured irises. She doesn't meditate like this as often anymore. She’d gotten used to relying on talismans, cultivation tools, things that don't require a constant stream of spiritual energy. It had been her way of defying those who spat on her father for his unorthodox cultivation, like it wasn't just as effective and at times more practical to use. She aspired to be the one thing the elders told her not to be. Wei Shuilan made sure they all knew that she was her father’s child. She takes one last deep inhale and gets up from the floor she had been sat on. She looks outside the window as the sun rises, painting the sky with vivid hues of pink and orange. The colours bleed into each other like the crushed plants whose essence stains her hands as she works them into paste. 

She won't have time to do that today. In fact she’ll likely have to close up shop while she assists the young masters in at least having some idea how to get back. Closing up the office will mean that villagers and other townspeople with regular prescriptions will need to stock up while she’s still here. Shuilan moves to her shelves and pulls out her documents regarding her catalog of herbal remedies, and another set with all of her customers and their respective needs. She methodically goes through each herb and packages them for each person. 

Hong hua for Dai-taitai, bai shao for xiao-ping, suan zao ren for Ming-ayi…

Shuilan continues down her list until she’s finished portioning her herbs, which will hopefully be more than enough to account for the time she will be spending away from home. 

It's still too early in the day for her to go out and deliver them, only the later end of yin shi. She stacks her packages and places them on the cleared out table away from the arrays and talismans on her work desk. Shuilan puts on her outer robe, faded from the original black dye into a splotchy gray, and leaves the house with her sword and a bamboo dizi at her waist. She heads for the inn where she knows at least the Lans will be starting to wake up.

Wei Wuxian sits silently in front of Lan Qiren. The stoic man regards the boy with little sympathy given the matter at hand. In all of Lan Qiren’s years of teaching he had never encountered someone so ill-behaved and unrepentant of their own behaviour in the face of their betters. It was a privilege for the boy to be allowed to study here and he squandered it with trivial amusements. Quite frankly he thought it must have been through the exaggerations of the common people, and in turn the rumors surrounding the boy, that had given Wei Wuxian such a reputation of talent and brilliance, for how could someone so opposed to the common senses of polite society ever conduct themselves in a way befitting of a proper junzi.

Lan Qiren is not often wrong, but he’d never felt worse for it when he realized that Wei Wuxian, despite all of his apparent shortcomings, was in fact as talented as the rumors had said. Interestingly they had not said anything about his intelligence. The boy was brilliant, and it grated on him, the educator that Lan Qiren was, that he was so brilliant he felt no need to pay attention during lectures, and his repeated disregard of the sect rules made it clear how little he thought of such rigidity, and what his opinion of the Lan was. It had plagued Lan Qiren throughout the duration of the disciple exchange that this was going to be the one student he couldn’t fix, through no lack of actual skill on the part of the student himself. Lan Qiren had resigned himself to this failure. 

But then his younger nephew brought him something unexpected. Lan Qiren was ready to brush it off as nothing but another case of Wei Wuxian brushing off his assigned tasks in favour of meager entertainment until he took a closer look at what was actually drawn on the paper.

To say that he was bewildered would be complete understatement of the utter confusion the teacher felt in that moment, because while Lan Qiren knew that Wei Wuxian was smart enough to keep up with class without having to pay attention or revise the material, it didn’t even cross his mind that the boy would be so far beyond his peers in terms of theoretical studies. The array design was something Lan Qiren had never seen before but after cross checking with their sect’s talisman master he had gotten confirmation that not only did the person who designed it know exactly what they were doing, they were doing it in a way that was both more efficient and less dangerous as it allowed cultivators to be able to control the array from afar via added sigil. 

Since that day Lan Qiren had been deep in reflection. He would never admit it aloud to anyone but it took him several days before he confronted the boy about his design. He was reluctant to approach the topic as he still did not understand the boy. His brilliance would be more apparent if he paid attention and actively participated in the class, but he hides behind his shamelessness and disregards propriety without a care for how it makes him look. He was quite pleased to learn that upon his decision to give Wei Wuxian different assignments to the rest of the guest disciples, the boy’s behaviour improved substantially.

After that day when he came to the realization that Wei Wuxian needed more challenging material, Lan Qiren felt that they had a better understanding of each other. Excessive pride is against their percepts, but he can admit, at least to himself, that he is proud of what the boy has been able to accomplish under the right guidance and supervision.

Perhaps this is his punishment for becoming lax.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren called to the boy that was still staring at his lap, and when he raised his head the teacher was met with a confounded expression. “What happened?”

Wei Wuxian’s expression became pinched before he spoke in a manner that was more akin to how one would report a night hunt to their sect leader. His explanation was concise, but detailed enough that Lan Qiren had a better understanding of the situation that had transpired in his absence. Perhaps it could be that he was more distressed than he previously thought, or due to the influence and repeated exposure to Wei Wuxian himself that he could not keep his feelings on the matter quiet.

“I’m disappointed in you,” the man spoke before he could think better of it.

Wei Wuxian stilled, and then his expression became unreadable. In this moment Lan Qiren could clearly see the boy’s father in him. As a servant of the Jiang sect, Wei Changze had often had the same air about him, that no matter what others said, whether insult or compliment, his expression was unbreakable. It was unsettling to see it on his son despite their vastly different personalities.

Wei Wuxian bowed deeply from where he was already kneeling and responded with a seriousness Lan QIren wasn’t aware he possessed, “This one apologizes for his mistake and failure to prevent it. This one will make sure that the sect heirs are located and promptly retrieved, I will work on nothing else until this egregious error is rectified.”

Wei Wuxian does not come up from the bow, and Lan Qiren realizes that he won’t until he is told otherwise. 

So this is what Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple is like.

Lan Qiren nods in satisfaction before telling the boy to rise. 

“Good. There is much work to be done.”

In the distant future, a red flash illuminates the inside of a dilapidated shed a distance away from the manor of which it belongs to. Inside, a young man opens his eyes and sees the blood that was used to draw out an array of demonic origins. The man inhales deeply, staring down at his hands and whispers to himself.

“I’m back.”

Chapter Text

Be of one mind. Be strict with yourself but easy on others. Maintain your own discipline. Do not make assumptions about others.

Lan Wangji recounts various rules of the Lan in his head as he goes about readying himself for the day. He could not sleep well last night. Lan Wangji spent the better part of the night thinking about Wei Ying and his daughter, about the boy who holds his affections and the inscrutable child that had been left behind. She’s young, Wangji thinks to himself. She can’t be that much older than them, and while Lan Wangji had lost his mother, and his father in all the ways that matter, at a much younger age, he had the support of his brother and uncle to rely on. Wei Shuilan lives seemingly alone in a small village that has been abandoned by the cultivation world, following the death of her father with no mention of a mother. 

Perhaps her mother is dead as well, unless she either chose not to go with Wei Shuilan, or was abandoned by her child. 

Lan Wangji shakes the thoughts from his head and repeats the rules again. Do not make assumptions about others. Wangji has nothing to extrapolate the other cultivator’s personality off of other than what he knows about Wei Ying, but this child of his does not seem to take after him in much aside from her appearance. Yes, her appearance is unmistakable and it makes it all the stranger that she does not act in any way that Lan Wangji would expect. She seemed nothing but serious during their interactions with each other the night before, nothing like the easy nature of her father. Lan Wangji has deigned to not have any expectations of her behaviour. It doesn’t matter, so long as she is willing to help them return to their original time.

At least in their time Wei Ying is alive and well. Wei Ying hadn’t been catapulted into the future like they were, which is odd since he was the one closest to the array. Lan Wangji can’t imagine how he must be feeling right now. Wei Ying is the only one who knows what happened in their time, no one else can help him explain and there are very few people who wouldn’t blame him for it. Lan Wangji hopes that at least Shufu is giving the other boy the support he needs right now. 

Wangji can’t wrap his head around it. How could Wei Ying be dead? One of the most promising cultivators of their generation dead a mere twenty years into the future. Perhaps Wangji could find out and see to it that it doesn’t happen. Wei Shuilan had said it herself, that despite her reluctance to reveal anything major, their timeline is now divergent from this one so it is unlikely that anything would negatively impact the people here. There is nothing truly stopping Wangji from ensuring the safety of the boy that he loves. 

While Lan Wangji’s thoughts are in disarray he goes through his normal routine in the morning, muscle memory allowing him to go about it in a detached dissociative manner, while his older brother continues to sleep as it is only yin shi. He meditates, then he asks one of the inn workers for a tub to be brought in so he can bathe and for his robes to be laundered. Wangji hears a knock, and a servant comes in, likely to return his robes faster than he had expected. From the other side of the partition the servant informs him that Wei Shuilan has been at the inn for half a sichen now, and is downstairs at a table in the main area should he wish to join her for breakfast. Apparently the innkeeper is quite fond of her and always makes sure to serve the best food when Wei Shuilan is around. 

Perhaps that is one thing that she shares with her father, Wangji considers thoughtfully, The Weis seem to have a way of inspiring people to care for them. Lan Wangji thanks the young boy and goes to finish his bath.

Lan Wangji makes his way down to the common area of the inn where he spots Wei Shuilan speaking to another girl. The other girl is likely the innkeeper's child, and she is conversing animatedly with Wei Shuilan who was listening attentively and making little interjections here and there. The other girl seemed a bit younger than Wei Shuilan, but perhaps that was just because Wei Shuilan conducted herself in a more composed manner. For a moment Lan Wangji debates going to a different table, or simply having his breakfast back in his room when the young girl caught his eye in the midst of her regaling her friend with what is surely an amusing story given the way that Wei Shuilan smiles softly at the other girl. Wangji watches her freeze in the middle of a motion with her arms moving above her head, quickly the girl drops her arms and turns back to her friend, which in turn causes Wei Shuilan to glance in Wangji’s direction. Wangji feels like he has been caught doing something questionable. Normally he would prefer simply to remove himself from the area but given that he hasn’t eaten yet and actually needs to interact with this person he cannot just avoid them. Since he’s already been noticed he decides to walk over and join them.

Moving to stand and pushing off of the table, Wei Shuilan says something to the girl who nods stiffly in response and stands with her. When Wangji stops in front of the table both occupants salute to him, the inn worker bowing lower while Wei Shuilan moves with ease in a practiced motion. Wangji returns their greetings and is quiet for a moment while the unnamed girl fidgets nervously until her friend nudges her gently with an elbow.

“This one is Zhang Shiyin, young master Lan. I hope you found your accommodations adequate,” Zhang-guniang squeaks but manages to hide the shakiness of her voice. Looking at her more closely she couldn't be more than fifteen years of age. 

“This one is Lan Wang-” stopping midway through his introduction, Wangji catches himself. Should he be giving out his name so freely?

Wei Shuilan seems to understand his hesitance and shrugs at him. It offers little assurance but he decides not to question the show of nonchalance and its contrast from her previous stance just the night before.

“This one is Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan. Our accommodations were quite fine, thank you.”

Zhang-guniang nods at him. “Breakfast will be ready soon, will the young master be joining Lan-jie?”

The familiarity of the address has Wangji eyes widening slightly. Wei Shuilan turns to look at him again and Wangji fights the urge to squirm under her gaze. Being faced directly with how different she is from her open and friendly father continues to astound Lan Wangji, even more so than the displacement of time. He doesn’t really know how he should be conducting himself around her, as she seems to be disinclined to the usual formality present among cultivators, but would likely not appreciate any presumption of familiarity.

Truly Lan Wangji has so many questions. Particularly about her initial reaction to all of them. She was so hostile towards them, and though Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan were ill behaved, she really seemed as if she was going to ensure their departure from the area through any means she found necessary. Which makes her confusion at the fact that Lan disciples were present a point of interest. Not to mention the fact that out of all of them, Wangji was the one that she had recognized. The second young master of the Lan sect, despite the fact that her father was a Jiang disciple. Surely the one she should have recognized was Jiang Wanyin, who grew up with her father, Nie Huaisiang as one of her father’s friends, or even Jin Zixuan who would be Wei Ying’s beloved shijie’s husband. 

But no. The one that Wei Ying’s future child had recognized was Lan Wangji. (He doesn’t let himself think deeper about it. He refuses to give himself hope)

“If you do not mind, young master Lan, now seems as good a time as any to talk about your current predicament,” she states politely if not amiably. Wangji nods in assent and the two of them move to sit back down while Zhang Shiyin makes her way to the kitchen to check on the food, but not before one last smile directed at Wei Shuilan. Wangji comforts himself in seeing that, despite her aloofness, she seems to be well liked among the residents of this area. It speaks well of her character.

“Wei-guniang, thank you for deciding to help us with our problem,” he says to her when the two of them have been left alone. Her face is unreadable but Wangji can make out the tensing of her mouth as she fights to keep it still.

“As I told your brother last night, there’s no need to address me as such, just Shuilan is fine,” the young girl looks uncomfortable but continues to speak, “and again, it wouldn’t be right to just leave the five of you on your own, especially given the circumstances.”

Wangji nods once again in lieu of responding verbally. It is not lost on him that both Wei Ying and Wei Shuilan seem to dislike formalities in address, and resolves to address her as she asked despite the lack of propriety in addressing a young woman of no relation to him in such a way. 

“There’s also no need to hide your identity,” she pauses, “At least your name anyway. The people here won’t recognize it considering all of you are more known by your titles.”

Before Lan Wangji can ask about that (surely no one can fault him for being curious about his supposed title), Zhang-guniang returns with their food, placing the plates and bowls in front of them with definitely more food than two people could finish. The servant boy from earlier most certainly was not jesting when he said that the inn had prepared their best dishes specifically for Shuilan. A variety of foods on the table, with one bowl of hot noodles that sit in a more orange broth in particular Wangji decides to stay away from. Shuilan sees his gaze on the bowl and quietly coughs into her fist before moving to place the contents into her own bowl after thanking her friend, who lightly giggles at her and moves the other more palatable dishes closer to the young master before leaving them to their meal.

Once they begin to eat the conversation desists on his part, and also hers. Wangji cannot decide if that is surprising or not. He tries to focus on his food, resolutely keeping his eyes off of her and her likeness to Wei Ying. It is so easy to forget who she is when he’s not looking closely, but he can’t help breaking his own heart when he looks at her and only sees the face of the boy he can never have. 

Truly Wangji should be happy for Wei Ying, for he had found someone to commit himself to and only hopes that that woman was worthy of such a bright and kind soul.

The two of them continue to eat in silence, and Lan Wangji in his singular focus to not look at the other occupant of the table was not privy to the glances that Shuilan was directing at him while the thoughts in her head sounded like clay pots shattering on the floor. 

They both finish eating, but have left a significant amount of food on the table. Shuilan places warming talismans on the various bowls and plates of dishes that had not been touched and asks a nearby servant for covers to place atop the dishes. Neither of them speak. Neither of them know what to say for vastly different reasons, but Lan Wangji in an action that is unlike himself tries to start a conversation.

“It is very early still,” he starts. “My older brother should be down soon, but we may have to wait longer for the others.”

“I see.” 

“...”

“...”

This is going terribly, second young master Lan laments to himself. How is it that this person is more taciturn than himself?

“Wei Ying hates getting up in the morning,” Wangji says for lack of anything else to say, as he recalls all the times the boy had complained loudly about the unnecessariness of starting the day so early. He doesn’t know why the silence is bothering him now of all times. He doesn’t expect her to respond to this but to his surprise the corners of Shuilan’s mouth twitch.

“Yes he really did. Baba could never get himself to wake up in the morning if he really didn’t need to,” Wei Shuilan had a fond look on her face as she remembered all the times she would have to climb into her father’s bed to rouse the man from his sleep, and how often it would end with said man using her a stuffed toy all while she laughed at her father’s silliness.

“Your father,” Wangji begins carefully, “I do not wish to bring up unpleasantries, but my condolences for your loss.” And truly what a loss it must have been to lose someone whose countenance was as bright as the morning sun.

Wei Shuilan was clearly not expecting him to express such a sentiment, given the slightly baffled expression on her face, but then she smiles softly and her posture becomes less tense as she relaxes her shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

Lan Wangji feels his own body relax at the disappearance of any standoffishness. She looks even more like Wei Ying when she smiles, even if it isn’t the bright beaming that Wei Ying graces anyone who he so pleases to, there is the same kindness in her face that is present in her father’s.

“You and my father were very close before his passing, are you two already friends in your timeline?”

A multitude of emotions flooded the young master at the question. On one hand Lan Wangji was incredibly pleased to know that he and Wei Ying were close enough for the man's children to know him, and on the other it means that he had suffered in silence, in love alone, throughout their friendship until the man’s untimely death.

“I would like to be, but I do not know if he feels the same at present.” 

And really, Lan Wangji couldn’t blame the other boy. Wangji had spurned the initial offers of friendship and avoided Wei Ying as much as he could due to his own confusion at his own emotions. Truly it is a miracle that Wei Ying speaks to him at all.

“What no! He definitely feels the same!”

Wangji is surprised by the outburst as Shuilan had sprung up from her seat and slammed her hands down on the table, garnering the attention from several servants and the few other guests that have been milling about. She winces and bows in apology to the others in the area, who only look back in concern, and quickly sits back down.

“Apologies, I grew up seeing you quite often so the idea that you and my father aren’t close is a bit unsettling.”

That would explain why she recognized him. (Once again he feels pleased to learn of his presence in Wei Ying’s life)

Wangji shakes his head and sincerely responds, “No, it is nice to know that he and I become closer.”

She looks relieved at his reply. “There was no one closer to him than you.”

Wangji feels his chest grow warm. 

“May I ask how old you are?”

“I’m seventeen, and if I'm guessing correctly you’re about fifteen or sixteen?” 

Wangji nods in confirmation. “Fifteen.”

“This is so odd,” Shuilan muses quietly looking at him with an expression of undisguised wonder, more to herself than to Lan Wangji. “You’re thirty-five this year.”

Thirty-five. Wei Ying is younger than him by some months and in this point of time has a teenaged child. How old was he when he had Shuilan?!

“Wei Ying and your mother must have had you quite young” Lan Wangji speaks stiffly over the sound of his heart cracking. 

“I don't have a mother,” thoughtlessly, Shuilan replies. 

Lan Wangji: “..."

He stares at her until she fully processes what she had said.

“I mean! That is to say-!” She fumbles through her words before blurting out, “I’ve never had a mother!”

Wangji’s stare does not cease as he collects himself and asks brokenly, “Did Wei Ying raise you alone?”

Shuilan, who looks as if the world is ending, nods her head. (In her head she's screaming at her own stupidity for revealing such a thing to a man as empathetic as her a-die. Who will now most certainly be focused on the fact that the love of his life was a single father, at least in Lan Wangji’s perspective.)

It could be worse, she thinks to comfort herself, I could have revealed something much much worse.

Given her reaction Wangji feels like he can safely conclude that the mother hadn't died during childbirth, but instead had abandoned the Weis (He hates that this is the assumption that was correct, of all things). Lan Wangji is appalled at the very notion that someone would leave their child, or not want to raise a child with Wei Ying, or even allow him to do the honorable thing and get married. Whoever Shuilan’s biological mother is must be someone undeserving of Wei Ying, or Shuilan for that matter.

Wangji apologizes to Shuilan for bringing up something unpleasant, and though she dismisses his apology as unnecessary her pained expression does not abate. He’s clearly brought up a sore topic but he doesn't know what to do to remedy it. 

Thankfully that is when Lan Xichen comes down for his meal after being informed that his younger brother was downstairs with Wei Shuilan, saving them from more terrible conversation. 

“...Is everything all right.”

Lan Xichen takes in the scene in front of him and hopes that nothing he can’t smooth over has occurred. Wangji looks rather regretful while Wei Shuilan looks as if she wants to dig a hole into the wood floor of the inn and crawl into it. He also notices that a few of the patrons and the Innkeeper keep glancing over at them with concern, as if they are readying themselves to intervene if necessary. 

Wangji looks over at his brother and tries to convey through expression alone that everything is fine. Lan Xichen looks dubious but concedes and sits down next to him, and greets Wei Shuilan amiably. No one speaks as Wangji and Shuilan are both reeling from their last topic, and Xichen is eating. The former two decide to wait for the other to finish eating before attempting to have any dialogue. 

Lan Xichen finally finishes his meal and asks them what they had been discussing. Wei Shuilan recounts their conversation, omitting the unconscious admittance of her lack of maternal figure, and Wangji isn’t inclined to inform his brother himself. Wangji wonders at the fact that she seemed to easily divest information to him than to his brother, perhaps because of Wangji’s close friendship with her father. 

Xiongzhang’s obvious delight at Wangji being friends with Wei Ying in the future grates slightly on his nerves. He is being too obvious, but Shuilan pays it no mind. 

“Should we continue with our discussion from the previous night, or shall we wait for the others to wake up?” language purposely kept vague because they aren’t alone, Shuilan inquires how they wish to go about this.

“I think it would be best to have everyone present for this discussion.” Both Lan Wangji and Shuilan nod at that.

Zhang-guniang returns to take away their empty plates, and inquires politely if it was to their taste. After receiving affirmatives the young lady turns to leave before abruptly turning back to them again.

“Ah! Lan-jie!”

“Yes?”

“Have you written to Shao-sanren about your trip?”

“Oh, no I haven't,” Shuilan’s eyes widened in realization. “I should write them before nightfall.”

“You better,” the young lady giggles teasingly in response. “If they come back and see you gone, who knows what they’ll think.”

“I imagine the other residents would be happy to inform them,” Shuilan retorts dryly. Unfortunately it does nothing to quell the giggling young girl.

“A sanren? Are they a friend of yours?” Xiongzhang asked, encouraged to converse more by the exchange between the two young ladies.

“Yes. They’re a rogue cultivator that comes through to help with the problems from the Burial Mounds, or even just help out around the village,” states Shuilan as they fill their cup with tea. She motions for the brothers’ cups and moves to serve them as well. “They usually stay with me around this time of year.

“You must be close,” Xiongzhang infers, looking a bit surprised at that.

“Yes, I’d say they’re a close friend,” Shuilan sips her tea. “And they’d be quite alarmed if I disappeared without any prior notice.”

Both brothers nod at that, and they all sip at their tea. 

They continue to converse, but Shuilan is clearly being more careful with her words after her earlier slip up. They discuss the array and decide that it would be best to continue at Shuilan’s residence rather than for her to go back and bring all her papers and things to the inn. Soon it became wen shi and Lan Xichen asked for a servant to wake the rest of their companions. 

“I forgot to mention earlier,” Shuilan interrupts the silent trek to her house, and the young masters that accompany her all halt in their step to look at her. “A disciple from the Lan sect will be joining us sometime around noon.”

“You wrote to the Lan Sect? I thought you said that the sects don’t respond to the petitions anymore?” asks Jiang Wanyin. “And how did you receive a response so quickly if you wrote last night? ”

“They don’t, but I wrote to him directly, not to his sect,” Shuilan clarifies. “He wrote that he was on an assignment and that he would be taking a detour on his way back to come see me, so I informed him that a problem arose that I would like his assistance for.” Shuilan takes something out of her sleeve. A brush with the handle covered in engravings is presented to them. “This allows for letters and missives to be sent directly to the person you wish, rather than needing couriers.” With this Shuilan also shows them a paper that she received in response. “I can demonstrate to you how it works once we reach my home.”

Nie Huaisang in particular is showing interest in such an invention. The future has come quite a way in terms of innovation.

“How do you know this disciple?”

“We’re friends. His name is Lan Sizhui.”

“Interesting that you have a friend from one of the major sects despite your aversion to sect cultivators.”

Shuilan stares back at him with an unimpressed look. 

“If you've seen people you care about repeatedly mistreated by a particular group of people, would you not gain an aversion to them?” She asked rhetorically. The way her eyes shifted to the Jin heir did not escape Lan Wangji’s notice.

“Do you not have any friends from the Jiang sect? I’d expect you to considering that Wei-xiong is a Jiang.”

“No. I do not,” her voice hard as steel.

“Oh my god,” something seems to occur to Nie Huaisang. “He married out, didn’t he?”

“What?”

“Wei Wuxian. He married out, didn’t he!” the Nie heir repeats his epiphany. “That would make so much sense!”

“How could he marry out! He’s supposed to be my right hand,” exclaims Jiang Wanyin in immediate denial, who then whips his head towards Shuilan. “He didn’t! There’s no way!”

Shuilan only remains silent, and then continues to trek forward not deigning to respond to either heir. Jin Zixuan follows her lead, not waiting for the rest of them.

Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang run after her. Both of them looking for confirmation that they are right. Jiang Wanyin in particular looks quite vexed at the idea that Wei Ying would leave the Jiang. Lan Wangji recalls what Shuilan had said during breakfast, she has never had a mother so it is unlikely that Wei Wuxian married out, or even remarried unless Shuilan is simply bitter about the woman who became her father’s spouse. Wangji finds that just as unlikely. But it begs the question, why doesn’t Shuilan seem to have any connection to the Jiangs?

“She is quite different from A-xian,” Lan Xichen says amusedly from Wangji’s right. “In fact I’d say that she’s quite similar to you, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji doesn't know what face he's making, but it causes his brother to chuckle at him. 

“Perhaps in all your time with him, his daughter had picked up your habits rather than his,” Xiongzhang teases. “You must be quite a good role model in the future.”

Lan Wangji resolutely ignores his brother and watches the group in front of him, as Shuilan continues to walk paying no mind to the cantankerous display around her as Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin continue to argue with each other, with Jin Zixuan interjecting to fan the flames for his own amusement.

The five of them sit around a table covered in talismans and papers with various array diagrams that Shuilan moved from what is presumably her work desk. Wangji will admit to himself that his knowledge of such things are quite limited, and he doesn’t seem to be the only one. Jin Zixuan picks up a diagram close to him and squints at it in confusion. Jiang Wanyin is frowning down at the paper, eyes moving from the table to Shuilan as if there is something on her person that will have the answers he is looking for. Nie Huaisang on the other hand, has not stopped watching her over the edge of his fan from the moment they stepped into the humble abode. 

“Xiao-Wei, could you show us the brush again?” Nie Huaisang chirps at her. “I’m quite interested in how it works.”

Wei Shuilan merely raises a brow at the chosen address, but nods. “Young master please stand over by my work desk.”

Nie Huaisang makes his way to the somewhat messy work station, and sits down on the stool. Shuilan, from the other side of the room, takes a small piece of paper and uses the brush to write something down. After she finishes writing she shows them what is written on the paper, and then imbues her spiritual energy into the brush. The letter disappears from her grasp. The young masters, who were watching with mild anticipation, could not hide their reactions as the letter vanished into thin air.

“Oh!”

Nie Huaisang’s exclamation catches their attentions, and they are met with the sight of the paper that had just disappeared in the boy’s hands. 

“How exciting!” gushes the Nie heir. “The things that you could use this for!”

“Indeed,” says Shuilan who has gone back to sorting through her papers. “It makes correspondence easier between cultivators, so they no longer have to account for delays in between messages.”

Nie Huaisang is still inspecting the paper in awe, Lan Wangji tunes him out when he starts to mutter to himself. 

“It’s actually thanks to Young Master Nie that it exists at all.”

The offhand remark causes Nie Hauisang to halt in his chittering. He, and everyone else present for that matter, looks at her with varying degrees of incredulity. She looks up at them noting their expressions before letting out a soft laugh.

“You were the one who commissioned it, not the one who invented it.”

“Ah, that makes more sense,” Nie Huaisang puts the paper down and looks contemplatively at her. “Who invented it then?”

“My father.”

She said it so casually, but Lan Wangji can see that she is proud of the fact, and Wangji can’t find it in himself to fault her for it. Nie Huaisang has a pleased expression on his face at her answer, but Lan Wangji has no idea what he is thinking.

Jiang Wanyin scoffs quietly, but not quietly enough to go unnoticed. Both Wangji and Shuilan turn to look at him but do not say a word as the young man begins to shift uncomfortably. Wangji watches on as Shuilan regards the man, who for all intents and purposes should be considered family to her, with a look of blatant disinterest.

“Young Master Lan,” the young woman addresses his brother, “would you mind drawing out what you remember of the array?” She gestures to the empty space that she made while her guests marveled at the demonstration she put forth. 

“I’d like to know the components of the array in order to figure out how they interacted with the talisman that was used as well.”

Lan Xichen nods but then looks at her sheepishly as he finishes drawing the array.

“I’ll do my best but if I may be honest, while I remember the array formation, the talisman was your father’s individual work, and I did not get a clear look at it before it sent us here.”

Shuilan nods in understanding. “Alright. But do you know what my father was trying to accomplish with the talisman?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“From what I understand from your previous explanation, the array had two functions to it,” Shuilan takes one of her own array diagrams and moves it to the center of the table so that everyone could see better, as she takes a brush and draws a border around the edge of the of the array. “The first function is that it traps whatever into the array formation, and the second function-” she circles the center part of the drawing with symbols that Wangji is not familiar with, “-is that it suspends whatever it has trapped in time.”

The young masters listen with rapt attention as she explains the mechanics of an array formation that she hadn’t even seen first hand. Shuilan directs her gaze back to Lan Xichen.

“Trying to counter the whole array would be too difficult for a first attempt, it would make more sense to break down the components and try to see if you could counter them individually first. If you can weaken one part of the array it could mean that the other part is more vulnerable, because otherwise why would you need something that does both?

“It would be helpful to know what exactly was trying to be accomplished with the talisman, as I understand that the talisman was trying to move the trapped objects forward in time, but did he mean to do that by targeting the trapped object or the actual array itself?”

“...”

No one knew what to say in response. Thankfully she wasn’t finished speaking yet. 

“I’d say it is more likely that the talisman was meant for the trapped object as the formation only accounts for keeping things within the formation rather than keeping things out, but that’s just a guess.”

Lan Xichen stared at her in stunned silence. Yes this really was Wei Wuxian’s child, she spoke with the same casual genius that he did, not realizing that not everyone possessed the same level of understanding. Or perhaps she did know and just didn’t feel the need to speak in plebian terms. 

A knock on the door interrupted the silence as a voice called out. 

“A-lan! Are you home?”

“Ah! One moment please!” Shuilan calls back to whoever is outside, and to them she says, “Please try to remember if Young Master Wei said anything about it in his explanation to you.” And with that she runs out the door. 

The five young masters watched her go before looking back at each other, and then to the table with the array formation drawn on a large piece of paper. 

Nie Huaisang sighs, “Even if I was listening intently to Wei-xiong’s ramblings, I wouldn’t understand it well enough to remember or replicate it.”

“I must admit to being quite confounded myself,” Lan Xichen adds.

“Well that’s just great,” Jiang Wanyin grumbles. “The only two people who would know don’t have a clue, and the rest of us can’t even guess.”

Wangji can’t hide his own growing anxiety at the situation.

Shuilan comes back into the house and runs past them and goes straight for the packages stacked on the floor next to the table, that somehow none of them had noticed. Wangji supposes that they can look past that given their current, more immediate concerns.

“I’m going to be passing these out to the villagers, I’ll be as quick as I can but I also have to explain how they should be using them so I don’t know how long I’ll take,” she says as she places the packages in a qiankun pouch that seem to have materialized from nowhere, “Please don’t touch any of the talismans that aren’t on the table.”

And with that she’s gone again, presumably in the company of whoever had called for her earlier.

“She seems quite involved in the community here,” observes Nie Huaisang, “I kind of expected her to be a bit of a hermit, only coming out to deal with cultivation related problems.”

“She’s their apothecary, remember?” Jin Zixuan speaks up, “She’d need to interact with people on a regular basis I imagine.”

Lan Xichen smiles gently, prompting Wangji to glance at his brother waiting for him to explain what was so funny.

“You must not have noticed earlier. Before I joined you and Shuilan for breakfast the innkeeper was watching your table quite intently, along with some of the servants,” he informs the room jovially. “They looked ready to jump in at any moment at the first sign of distress.”

“That would explain the staring,” Nie Huaisang comments. “They were watching us like criminals, I thought it was just because they weren’t used to having sect cultivators here.”

“None of that matters right now, we should be focusing on the talismans,” Jiang Wanyin interjects. The boy had been steadily becoming more and more stressed by the turn of events. It was clear that this situation was uncomfortable and that being away from any sect that could help them had not been helping. “Of all the places to end up, it had to be here with his kid.”

“You have only yourself to blame for that,” the Jin heir uttered under his breath.

Jiang Wanyin froze before glaring at the other boy. “What did you say?”

“ I said that you only have yourself to blame,” Jin Zixuan meets the glare with his own. “If you hadn’t activated the talisman none of us would be here right now.”

The two boys are at a standoff, and Wangji only wishes that they would take it outside. No one has the energy to deal with either of them right now. He spies the Nie heir in the corner of his eye watching the spectacle with nervous eyes, while his brother pats him on the shoulder. 

“That’s enough,” Lan Xichen asserts. “Arguing will get us nowhere, whatever problems you have with each other can wait until we have this sorted.”

“And how long is that going to take?” Jin Zixuan is suddenly more talkative than he’s been the entire time. “We’re effectively in the middle of nowhere, we’re devoid of any resources that could help us, and we’re entirely at the mercy of a girl our age who is clearly as ridiculous as her father!” He’s panting slightly by the end of his bluster. “And all because Young Master Jiang couldn’t handle his own temper.”

Jiang Wanyin moves too quickly for anyone to stop him and punches Jin Zixuan square on the mouth. His brother  gets to him before Wangji does and holds him back from continuing to attack the Jin heir, while Nie Huaisang checks on the boy in gold who’s now fallen to the ground. 

Jin Zixuan rubs a thumb on the corner of his mouth before getting up and retaliating, made easier by the fact that Xiongzhang was holding Jiang Wanyin still. Jiang Wanyin breaks free from the older boy’s grasp and the two continue to throw fists at each other, as Nie Huaisang watches in morbid fascination. The Lan brothers grab at the fighting boys as the two scream expletives at each other, in the struggle the table gets knocked over, along with all the papers. Wangji can only be relieved that none of them were activated by accident this time. The two aggravated teenagers continue to scream and kick out at each other as their arms are being restrained, and Wangji is of the mind that they should just throw them outside before they do any more damage before Shuilan comes back. 

Wangji and his brother finally manage to separate the two, with Lan Xichen restraining Jiang Wanyin and Wangji with Jin Zixuan.

Unfortunately this is when the door opens revealing a pair of Lan disciples to the mess that had started not even ten minutes after the owner of the house left.

Lan Sizhui would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't worried about his sister. 

In her response to his letter, expressing his plan to go visit her after the completion of his assignment with his fellow junior disciples, she informed him that a problem has occurred in her Town that she will be in charge of, but that she would like his assistance. Very few details were given and she wrote that she would explain in more detail when he arrived. Contrasted with her usual vibrant descriptions of the happenings in her life, it does not bode well for her to suddenly be so sparing with her words. So yes, Lan Sizhui is very worried about his sister. 

His younger sister who had left home at the ripe age of fourteen, not even old enough to be married, not knowing what she wanted to do with herself, only that she could no longer stay. Sizhui knew that she was treated differently by the older members of their sect due to her resemblance to their father, and Sizhui had always felt sorry for it. They treated the both of them like intruders for a very long time, but the difference was that over time they came to see Lan Sizhui as his own person who could be trusted to make his own decisions, whereas they never gave her the same benefit of the doubt. Maybe it's because Shuilan remembered more about their late father than he did despite being the older sibling, that she had a better understanding of what was happening than he did. Sizhui knows that she could not resign herself to living with things that she did not agree with. Truthfully neither could Lan Sizhui, but the Cloud Recesses were his home and he could not see himself being anywhere else, even if he knew that their other father would have gone with them and even now he only stays for Lan Sizhui. His family is a complicated one, he knows, and he is as thankful for them, but sometimes Sizhui cannot bring himself to look at them knowing what they did, and how they do not regret it in any way that matters. 

Sizhui sighs as he dismounts his sword when he sees the inn that is just a ways away from where his sister resides. Beside him lands Lan Jingyi, who ignored his friend’s insistence that he go back to Cloud Recesses with the rest of their cohort, after being told that Shuilan had found herself in some kind of trouble.

“What’s got you sighing like that?” Jingyi asks when they’re both safely on the ground. 

“Nothing, I’m just worried about her,” Sizhui admits. “It wasn’t that long ago when she told us that Jin disciples were giving her trouble when all she was doing was a routine cleansing for some of the other villages in the area, and now she’s saying that there are random cultivators here who require her assistance.”

Lan Jingyi regarded his friend thoughtfully, before nudging him playfully with his shoulder. “She’s probably fine, and if she isn’t that’s what we’re here for.” 

“You know she only asked for my assistance, right?”

“If you think I’d let you go alone and deal with that lunatic Mo, you’ve lost your mind,” Lan Jingyi shudders at the thought. “He really is insane, and it’s even worse because you know he’s faking it.”

“You saw how he was treated at the manor,” Sizhui scolded his friend. “I can’t really blame him for acting that way.”

“Maybe not,” concedes Lan Jingyi before starting up again. “But I can’t believe Hanguang-jun just took him back with him. Especially with how much he was crying and attempting to run away”

At this, Lan Sizhui couldn’t help but agree. His father is a kind man but he isn’t known for taking people in (which is a bit ironic coming from him he knows). Taking someone in to help him avoid someone like Sect Leader Jiang, a man known for his unpredictable temperament, is one thing, but his father seemed to have taken a personal interest in Young Master Mo. However, the young master did help them so he can’t say that he isn’t grateful to him, and that he hopes that Cloud Recesses will give the man the safety that he had clearly lacked at Mo Manor.

“Perhaps he’s just unused to kindness,” Lan Sizhui settles on.

Lan Jingyi has no response to this but he doesn’t seem to disagree. “Yeah. At least the man has some talent, even if it is demonic cultivation. Maybe Hanguang-jun will make a better cultivator out of him yet."

The two continue on in silence. They pass the inn and nod to the people who bow and smile at them in acknowledgment. The townspeople and villagers no longer look so weary around them, Sizhui supposes that they come here often enough to not be seen as a threat. The innkeeper’s daughter runs out after them, so they stop and allow her to catch up.

She smiles at them and bows in one fluid, albeit clumsy, motion. “Welcome back, young masters.”

They salute back at her and Jingyi wastes no time asking about the food being served at the inn and if she could sneak them some chicken later. This elicits a happy laugh from the girl and she jokingly scolds him for trying to get out of paying for his next meal.

“Oh! Before I forget,” the young girl had presented a little basket permeating with the smell of baked goods in front of the Lan disciples. “Could you pass these onto Lan-jie? She left before they were finished baking and she seemed so tense this morning I wanted to give her a little treat.”

“Of course, guniang,” Sizhui takes the offered basket and peaks inside before securing the cloth back over the treats. “You said she looked tense?”

“Yes. These sect cultivators came last night and caused quite the ruckus,” the girl squirms a little bit before coming closer and speaking in a quieter voice. “Some of them were wearing your sect robes, but Lan-jie didn’t seem to recognize them. She said there was nothing to worry about but she’s practically escorting them away from the town so everyone’s a little worried for her.”

Sizhui’s expression turns into one of open concern as he feels Jingyi place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. He thanked Zhang-guniang before promptly turning around and making his way to his sister’s residence as quickly as he could without running, mindful of the basket he was given. 

“Hey calm down,” Jingyi says as he catches up to him. “They said that she was tense, not that she was in immediate danger. She’s probably just uncomfortable having to deal with a bunch of strangers at once.”

Sizhui doesn’t listen, nor does he stray from his singular goal of making sure his sister is alive and well. The house comes into view and Sizhui breaks into a run after shoving the basket in Jingyi’s arms. The sound of something crashing from the inside of the house and Sizhui wasted no time in throwing the door open. 

The first thing he notices is two boys being restrained and yelling at each other. The next thing he notices is the table that’s been knocked over and the papers all over the floor. His hand goes to the hilt of his sword and as he goes to draw it someone cries out. 

“Oh thank god!” a distressed looking young master in Nie robes comes into view. “Are you the friend that Shuilan wrote to last night?”

Sizhui only stares in confusion, his hand not moving from his sword as he watches the other four people in the room with suspicion. Also, friend? 

Who are these people?

“What the hell. Who are you people!” Jingyi yells from his side. Sizhui didn’t even notice when his friend caught up. 

“Young masters please let us explain!” a flustered voice calls out and the two Lan Disciples turn to them.

Lan Sizhui is rendered speechless.

Lan Jingyi is not. 

“ZEWU-JUN!?”

“Ah, yes but not the one you’re familiar with.” And he’s right. This man looks younger than their sect leader, and less sure of himself. He doesn’t carry himself with the same kind of authority they had all come to expect from him. No, this man isn’t Zewu-jun, but if he’s here then that means…

“Hanguang-jun,” Jingyi fills the silence with his confused voice. 

The man in question stares back at them. This absolutely cannot be his father, they had just left the man on his way back to Gusu.

What is happening right now?

None of this does anything to soothe Sizhui’s concerns as he still has yet to locate his sister. He focuses on that. 

“Where is Wei Shuilan, and why are you in her house?” he demands.

“She left with another person, to hand out some things to the townspeople,” the harried Nie disciple is the one that responds. His hands are out in front of him, likely trying to seem as non-threatening as he can.

“I think we should all calm down and take a seat,” the zewu-jun look alike attempts to diffuse the situation. “Shuilan knows we’re here, we don’t mean any harm to you or your friend.”

The five young masters seem to shuffle uncomfortably, especially the ones who are no longer being restrained. Sizhui doesn’t move from where he is until Jingyi says that they should probably put the table back how it was. 

The intruders seem to be thankful to have something to do as they put the table back and pick the papers up from the floor. Once the room is back in order, and they’re all sat around the table except for Sizhui, who goes back to questioning them.

“Who are you people?”

They share a look amongst themselves (and Jingyi by accident because the boy is sitting at the table with them holding the basket on his lap).

“I believe it would be best to wait for Wei Shuilan to return before we explain anything,” is the lukewarm response. 

Sizhui is having none of it. 

“She can verify your story when she comes back.”

After a moment of contemplation among the boys Zewu-jun’s doppelganger speaks again.

“We’re from the past and we were sent here by accident.” 

Lan Sizhui stares at them. He stares at them for longer than what is considered acceptable but surely they cannot expect him to react well to that statement.

“Wei Shuilan will vouch for us, I promise we didn’t break into her house,” Young Master Nie adds a little pathetically.

Sizhui sighs and goes for the empty chair. His posture is straight and dignified but he would like nothing more than to throw these people out of the house.

“Well that explains a few things,” Jingyi cheerfully comments, ignoring his friend’s displeasure at the situation. “That means that you two really are Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun!”

The aforementioned people, and everyone else really, are taken aback at this Lan’s cheeriness in contrast with his friend’s standoffishness. 

“Yes I believe we are,” Lan Xichen says, sounding relieved at the change of subject. “That’s quite a title that my brother will gain in the future.”

That’s all the encouragement Jingyi needs to go off about Lan Wangji’s immeasurable character. Sizhui takes this time to look at the other people present and guesses based on the quality of their robes that these other cultivators must the younger versions of the sect leaders of the other major sects.

Lan Sizhui watches this unfold and understands why Shuilan didn’t want to deal with this alone.

Chapter Text

Shuilan could not come back soon enough. 

Now that Sizhui has had enough time to clear his head, he’s less inclined to believe that she is in any kind of danger. But he would still prefer that she come back as soon as possible. He tunes out the enthusiastic conversation that has started around him. 

He thinks of how Shuilan could have reacted to these people showing up so late at night in the cursed land, without any indication that they were on a routine nighthunt, dressed in fine robes indicating that they had the money to be elsewhere. He thinks of how it must have looked for a group of mismatched cultivators who seemed to have no idea where they were. It’s not uncommon, Sizhui thinks, for junior disciples to trek to the Burial Mounds on their own just to see if the lands surrounding it really were cursed like all the sects like to believe it was, but rarely do they ever venture far enough to require lodgings overnight. 

The sects stopped answering missives from these areas because they required more resources than they were willing to offer. When they realized that the resentful creatures would not venture out of the border they created it became less of a concern. It didn’t matter that the common people of that area were still affected by them, or that many of the people were asking for help for reasons outside of the problems caused by the Burial Mounds. All of those issues got lumped together, and since the rest of the population was largely unaffected by it, the cultivation sects stopped bothering with them. It was the same when the Burial Mounds were located near Yiling, it is the same now even when they’re closer to a sect like Gusu Lan, who pride themselves on their charity, discipline, and righteousness.

So to have a random group of cultivators appear so close to where the common people of this area live must have been alarming. It could mean that more severe attacks were happening, or that the cultivators want something from the people. Neither option bodes well for people of such humble living.

Although it has changed a bit recently, with Shuilan settling in the area and Sizhui, Jingyi, and Hanguang-jun visiting, it's shown that the area isn't as cursed as people say it is. Gusu Lan has begun to send their cultivators out again, thanks to Hanguang-jun giving firsthand accounts of his nighthunts in these areas, however they are still not answering petitions as often as they should, and Hanguang-jun is only one person. Sizhui can't wait until he's old enough to choose his assignments.

“-and then when the corpses couldn’t take down the arm, Hanguang-jun came in and subdued it with only a few notes of Eradication!!” Jingyi gleefully finished off his story. The young man was looking eagerly towards the young Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun. 

Part of Sizhui recognized that his friend was doing this to take the attention off of Sizhui’s outburst earlier and diffuse tension, the other part of him was mildly exasperated with his friend’s perpetual state of awe towards his father. One would think he'd tone it down by now.

“Wangji seems quite impressive in the future,” Lan Xichen teasingly looks to his brother, whose ears have gone red at the enthusiastic retelling. Even the other heirs look at him with respect, begrudgingly on some people’s parts.

“No one is more impressive than Hanguang-jun,” states the other Lan disciple proudly, as Sizhui huffs a laugh at his friend.

“Honestly you’d think he’s your father the way you talk about him,” Sizhui offhandedly remarks, and gets a grin in return. (He doesn’t see the way Nie Huaisang’s eyes narrow at the wording.)

“Wow, Wangji-xiong! These juniors of yours have a great deal of respect for you,” Nie Huaisang says from behind his fan, not even flinching at the blank look the other boy gives him, “I always thought you’d be a strict teacher, like your uncle, when you grew up.”

Lan Sizhui can’t help snorting at that. Strict as his father was he was a very different teacher from granduncle. They all turn their questioning eyes on him, and Sizhui wonders how much he can reveal about his father, but decides that surely this is fine so long as he doesn’t say that it’s his father. 

“Hanguang-jun is an excellent teacher, he can be strict at times but he isn’t unreasonable, and he is always fair,” he states diplomatically with Jingyi nodding vigorously next to him in agreement.

Lan Xichen smiles at that, while Nie Huaisang continues to look at him curiously.

“Would you say that you’re close to him?” 

“Sizhui definitely is,” Jingyi says automatically. 

“Oh is he now?” Young Master Nie practically sings, eagerly looking at the new additions to their group.

Once again the attention returns to Sizhui. He coughs into his fist but does not immediately answer. 

“I often assist him with official sect matters,” he says vaguely. He used to bury us in bunnies when we were children, he does not add. 

“So Lan Wangji just happened to be close by, in case anything went awry,” the Nie sect heir muses aloud. 

Sizhui starts to get nervous, feeling like he’s accidentally revealed too much. He nudges his friend, who looks at him in confusion as Sizhui tries to communicate with his eyes that they shouldn’t be talking so much about Hanguang-jun, or any future related matter.

(All while the current Lan Wangji is sitting completely still in his seat trying in vain to tune out the conversation, as his ears burn at the effusive compliments and hopes that Shuilan returns soon if only to redirect everyone’s attention to something else. Surely it does not take this long to hand things out?)

“So neither of you are of any relation to Hanguang-jun?”

“We’re distant relations from the main family,” Sizhui answers, he smiles politely hoping that nothing in his expression is giving him away. Jingyi mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like the percept against lying, but Sizhui ignores him. 

“Hanguang-jun must be fond of your cohort then, to tag along just in case something happened!,” Nie Huaisang says airily.

“He’s a very attentive teacher,” Sizhui hopes to end the conversation here.

The other young masters present look on intently but do not add to the conversation. 

“Ah, Wangji-xiong you must change quite a bit when you’re older,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully turns to the Twin Jades of Lan. “Going from avoiding other disciples to being so involved with your juniors. Truly what a remarkable difference.”

The other heirs look on in horror as Nie Huaisang unintentionally insults the Lan Sect’s Second Young Master.

Lan Xichen merely laughs at the comment as he regards his younger brother with a fond look. “Indeed, it seems my brother has come a long way.”

He pats his brother on the shoulder as the brother in question looks a bit uncomfortable as he has stayed the topic of conversation for longer than he could tolerate. 

Lan Xichen looks to the Junior Lan Disciples, “It is good to hear that my brother is doing so well.”

They both nod at the person who is not quite the man that they know today. Sizhui really begins to feel the whole time travel thing as he chanced upon a look at his father’s younger self, and caught the other man’s eyes. 

Sizhui feels frozen for a moment before he smiles awkwardly at the man and dips his head in acknowledgment. He doesn't expect the man to speak given how reserved the man is now , but Lan Wangji has his own moments of going against people’s expectations. 

“You must be very close to Wei Shuilan,” Lan Wangji says to them. “She does not appear to be very trusting of sect cultivators.”

Lan Sizhui's mouth hangs open a bit before he finds his words, “We grew up together. And sect life never agreed with her, it was really inevitable that she would make a life for herself elsewhere.” 

Jingyi sighs in faux seriousness before saying, “I'm so jealous of her though, she's younger than us and she's already so much more experienced.”

“You really think you could survive out on your own the way she has?” He asks his friend teasingly.

“What's that supposed to mean,” Jingyi responds, offended by the tone. 

“You'd have to camp outside more often,” Sizhui gives the other boy a knowing look. 

Jingyi looks back at him sheepishly. “Ah, I suppose that's true.”

“You're not fond of camping, Lan-gongzi?” Lan Xichen asks amused. 

“It's not my favourite activity.”

“He complains every time we have to sleep outside instead of at an inn.”

The two boys speak at the same time, and Jingyi turns to him in betrayal.

Sizhui resolutely stares back with an eyebrow raised taunting; am I wrong?

The other boy sighs and looks away defeated. 

Sizhui smiles at Lan Xichen. “Shuilan always made fun of him for being a, what was it again, Jingyi?”

Jingyi glares at him but dutifully answers, “A young master.”

“A young master?” The other occupants of the table look confused by that. 

“No, not a young master. A young master ,” Jingyi corrects, laughing at the memory of a young Shuilan looking distasteful when the other disciples complained about their robes getting dirty after a practice nighthunt.

“What does that even mean,” asks Jiang Wanyin, finding his voice again after the fiasco earlier. 

“A young master is different from a young master. One should not aspire to be like such a person,” Jingyi says like he’s offering sage advice, despite the conversation technically being about his behaviour. 

“What he means to say is that a young master is someone who is quite fussy, they're a person who'll do things without any consideration for other people and gets annoyed easily when things don't go his way,” Sizhui explains to the other young masters who look quite lost. “Shuilan said it once to Jingyi when Jingyi was complaining about having to sleep outside instead of an inn.”

“She was raised to be frugal so she didn't get it,” Jingyi defends himself. “And I'm not that bad, at least I'm not like Jin- xiaojie .”

“I don't think comparing yourself to a woman is really helping your defense, Lan-gongzi,” Jiang Wanyin adds. 

“What no, I'm not talking about a girl-”

“Jingyi,” Sizhui interrupts his friends and meaningfully gestures to the other end of the table with his eyes.

Jingyi lets out a quiet ‘oh’ and clamps his mouth shut. 

Jin Zixuan raises an eyebrow at this. 

“Is she the daughter of one of my cousins or something?”

“Ah, no not exactly,” Jingyi answers in a stilted manner realizing he’d just insulted the son of this Young Master Jin. 

Jin Zixuan’s eyes narrow at them but doesn't ask anything else. 

“Probably your daughter,” the Nie heir says under his breath, not quietly enough to go unnoticed. 

Jin Zixuan glares at the boy who averts his gaze and hides behind his fan. Jiang Wanyin snorts, while the two Junior Lan disciples shift uncomfortably. 

“As a daughter of the Jin Sect, it would make sense for her to have certain expectations regarding such things,” Jin Zixuan defends his hypothetical daughter.

“Sure but having so many spirit-catching nets in one area is excessive no matter who it is,” Jingyi whispers to his friend who steps on his foot to tell him to shut up. 

Really everyone needs to stop whispering when they’re so close together, the enhanced hearing of cultivators is not to be trifled with.

“Spirit-catching nets?”

“Yes he basically covered the entire forest in them not caring if people got caught,” Sizhui informs them, at this point not caring because it was excessive, even for the Jin. 

“They should’ve been more carefu-. Wait, did you say he?” 

Lan Jingyi tries to stifle his laughter but can't help himself, and really who could blame him. “Yeah, he. Jin-xiaojie is the Jin Sect’s current young master.”

“Why do you call him that?” Jin Zixuan asks, offended. The jabs being made about his sect, and now his future son, made him quite sour. First it was Wei Wuxian's eccentric kid and now these Lan disciples.

“Because he acts like one, he’s quite the young master,” Jingyi says unapologetically. 

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin laugh at this, Lan Xichen eyes the Jin heir with mild apprehension. while Sizhui nudges his friend to tone it down. Lan Wangji is sat there wondering how the Lan Sect produced such a disciple.

Jin Zixuan stares furiously down at the table and Sizhui can't help but feel bad for him. The boy here has had nothing to do with the trouble that the Jin Sect has caused his family. 

“He’s still young, he still has quite a lot of time to mature,” Sizhui offers in consolation. The Jin heir nods at him but does not rejoin the conversation. 

The sound of rustling at the door diverts everyone's attention. 

“Ah, Shuilan! Really you're such a big help around here,” a voice from outside says blithely. 

“It's no trouble Auntie, it's the least I can do, really,” Shuilan’s voice responded humbly. 

“You're always like this, you're truly a gift to us folks around here,” the voice insists. “Ah! No I don't want to hear it, listen to your elders, young lady!”

Shuilan laughs, a high gentle sound that carries through the door. 

“Yes auntie, this one apologizes for their impudence.”

Sizhui finds that he can't wait any longer, and gets up from his seat once he hears footsteps walking away from the door. 

He opens the door just as Shuilan turns around, and she jumps back in surprise before smiling brightly at him.

“Gege!”

He thinks he hears someone choke behind him but doesn't turn around to check as Shuilan wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him, paying no mind to the onlookers. He hugs back, relief flooding him as he sees that she’s the same as she’s always been. 

Shuilan is still smiling when she lets go of him and looks to the people behind him. Her eyes land on Jingyi and her smile takes on a more teasing look. 

“I thought I only asked for one Lan disciple.”

“There was a two for one deal when you ordered,” Jingyi moves past the young masters and moves to hug her as well. “We’ve been getting acquainted with your guests here.”

“Oh good you've already introduced yourselves then.”

“Actually I don't think we caught that young master’s name,” Lan Xichen points out, gesturing to Lan Sizhui. 

“My apologies, this one is Lan Yuan, courtesy name Sizhui,” he salutes. 

“You've friends in some high places, Xiao-Wei,” Nie Huaisang says cheerily, “That one in particular, you should've told us Lan Wangji’s son would be offering his assistance!”

Sizhui startles at that, and looks to Shuilan in a panic. Lan Sizhui didn't think that they said anything incriminating, or that they’d revealed anything that would give the others anything solid to draw a direct conclusion from.

Lan Wangji whips his head at the Nie heir and narrows his eyes at him before looking to the three at the door for answers. He seems to find it as he stares at Sizhui’s forehead. 

Oh! My forehead ribbon! Sizhui’s hand unconsciously goes to his forehead ribbon and he traces the cloud pattern exclusive to members of the main family that’s embroidered on it. He feels face flush at the fact that he’d forgotten about it. 

“How astute, Nie-gongzi,” Shuilan looks back at the boy. “What gave it away?”

“His forehead ribbon, of course!” Nie Haisang excitedly answers. He’s had to study at Cloud Recesses more than once, and his older brother has been friends with Lan Xichen for a very long time, so it is understandable that he noticed the forehead ribbon. “Though you seem quite calm about this. I thought you were quite against us learning about the future,” he squirms nervously in place with his fan in front of his face, like he’s anticipating Shuilan’s reaction.

“I don't see a need to hide it if you've already found out,” she turns to Sizhui. “Right, gege?”

He nods in agreement. it wouldn't have been impossible to hide, but given the fact that they’ll be going to the Cloud Recesses where Hanguang-Jun currently is, Lan Sizhui would rather not have to hide his relationship with his father. 

Said father’s younger self is currently staring at him like he doesn’t believe what’s just been revealed.

Shuilan on the other hand… Sizhui trails off in his head as he listens to his sister repeat the explanation of divergent timelines once more for their benefit as well as a reminder to the displaced young masters. 

“Nothing is guaranteed, so it's better to have less knowledge of a potential future so you're less influenced by it,” Shuilan shrugs, “but knowing you might have children one day is less consequential than something like knowing when your enemy dies, or that you may contract an incurable disease.”

Not the example I would've gone with but it does get the point across I suppose.

Sizhui thinks that he understands what she’s doing now. By spoon feeding them more revelations regarding certain aspects of their lives it distracts them from the history of this timeline. They’ll be too occupied with the fact that this person they’ve just met is someone who might become significant to them. Their questions and thoughts will stick to what’s in front of them rather than letting it wander to how the world became this way. It’s another reason why they need to go to Gusu as soon as possible, so they can better control what information reaches these people. They already know about the Burial Mounds, any more and they may realize the instability of their cultivation world, which may do more harm to them than good, depending on who they go to with that knowledge. 

At least no one from Qishan Wen is here , Sizhui thinks to himself.

The young masters nod in understanding once Shuilan has finished talking. 

“Wangji, I can’t believe it. You have a son!” Lan Xichen nudges his brother jovially. Lan Wangji looks less enthused by the idea, or rather he looks frightened by it. The other boy doesn’t say a word and Sizhui doesn’t know how to approach him so all he does is give him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Shuilan makes her way to the table to peer back down at the arrays and talismans that have been placed back onto the table once the debacle from earlier was sorted out. 

She raises an eyebrow at them when she notices the papers are a bit more worn than when she left them. She looks to Sizhui and Jingyi in question but they merely shakes their heads in response, so she decides to drop it for now.

“Have any of you managed to come up with anything while I was gone?”

Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan pointedly look away from each other at that, while Lan Xichen looks abashed and Nie Huaisang shuffles in place seemingly trying to shrink in on himself. Lan Wangji is the one who speaks. 

“There was a disagreement after you left, it did not yield anything of value.”

Well that’s one way to put it, Sizhui elbows Jingyi to stop his chortling. Trust his father to be so blunt even at this age.

“I see,” Shuilan sighs. “It’s fine. When we get to Cloud Recesses we should still be able to find the book with the array formation in the Restricted chamber of the library.”

She turns to the new additions of their group. “Should we fly out soon? I’ve finished what I needed to do around town already, and I've informed the magistrate that I’ll be traveling back with you guys.”

This is met with a collective agreement. The time-traveling sect heirs in particular are eager to go back to any sect.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Jingyi goes to pick up the basket that had been placed on an empty place on the shelves. “Zhang Shiyin wanted to give you this before you left.”

Shuilan takes the basket with a pleased look in her eyes. “I’ll put these in a qiankun pouch so we can take it with us.” 

She gets up and wraps them up tightly in the fabric covering them and places a preservation talisman on them, before placing them in the pouch. 

“Is there a talisman for everything now?” Nie Huaisang asks, slightly disbelieving.

Shuilan shrugs. “Twenty years is a long time,” is all she offers.

They all step outside of the house and Sizhui explains the type of terrain they’ll be flying over in order to prepare the young masters. They start to walk to the edge of town where they will begin their departure. 

Lan Xichen feels that he can't be blamed for the feeling of relief that rushes through him when the familiar view of Caiyi Town greets him from afar. He’s been trying to maintain his composure since yesterday, but having to arbitrate between different sect disciples, two of which have such volatile personalities, was not something he signed up for. 

He lets out a sigh as they touch down on the ground. He's considered a strong cultivator, ahead of his peers even, but even he starts to feel the strain of carrying another person on his sword for so long, as Nie Huaisang didn't have his saber on him. (Privately he thinks to himself that had the other boy even had it, he still would have asked to ride with someone.) Once he helps Nie Huaisang dismount Shuoyue he can’t help but turn to the group of three in front of everyone.

“Are you alright, Shuilan?” Lan Sizhui goes to where Wei Shuilan is dismounting a few steps away from him. “I know flying by sword is still a bit difficult for you.”

She waves away his concern and casually says, “I have to get better at it somehow.”

This sparks Lan Xichen’s curiosity. It appears that she isn’t as strong of a cultivator as her father is (was?) at her age. Her upbringing seems unconventional at best, so it likely had an impact on her development as a cultivator.

Xichen notes the way the others frown at the exchange between the two. It is odd that Wei Wuxian’s child would struggle with something as basic as flying by sword. 

“Should we stop by somewhere to eat first?” Lan Jingyi asks them, mindful of the fact that everyone is tired from the trip.

“Thank you gongzi, but I believe it would be best if we went straight to Cloud Recesses,” Lan Xichen responds, the other heirs agree, though the three non-Gusu Lan cultivators share a tacit disapproval of the food they’ll have to eat instead.

They head towards the bottom of the mountain through Caiyi Town.

Caiyi is as lively as it has always been, and it is a comfort to know that little has changed even after twenty years. The vendors call out to passerbyers and advertise their wares, while people walk around. Nie Huaisang in particular is quite pleased that his favourite bookstore in Caiyi is still in business, and converses happily with Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan. The two young masters are still uncomfortable with each other but the animosity has been diminished for now, and Lan Xichen hopes that they can behave themselves for however long it’ll take to get them all back home.

Lan Xichen once again finds himself observing the trio at the front of the group as his brother walks beside him in silence. Wei Shuilan does not seem enthused to be in such a crowded place, however, as surprising as it is that A-xian’s child had turned out more introverted than he is, what truly catches his attention is the way that Lan Sizhui seems to be acting as a kind of fence for her. Lan Sizhui walks by her side and shields her from the crowd walking on the path, while Lan Jingyi walks a bit ahead of them, requiring people to go around and in turn making sure that no one is running into Wei Shuilan. The action is reminiscent of how Lan Xichen would often make sure that Lan Wangji was alright and ensure that he was not too overwhelmed by having to interact with too many people. 

He had said it to tease his brother earlier, but the more he looks the more that Wei Shuilan seems to resemble Lan Wangji, even more so than his apparent son. The son that had not made any attempt to interact with Wangji, or even Xichen, after it was revealed that he was of the main clan. Though upon further reflection perhaps that was more for Wangji’s benefit, as the brother in question had looked uncomfortable with the idea of it. He glances at his younger brother who looks back at him in confusion, Lan Xichen merely smiles and shakes his head. The father and son will have a chance to talk privately when they reach their destination. 

As they near the end of the town a voice calls out to them.

“Ah! Young masters! You, Young Masters from the Lan Sect!” 

The group stops and turns to the voice and sees a vendor fervently gesturing for them to come over with a smile on her face. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi share a look before nodding at the group and walking over with Wei Shuilan by their side. The others, not wanting to hinder the walkway, decide to follow them. 

“Did you need something, guniang?” Lan Sizhui politely inquires as the rest of the group catches up.

“You two were part of the cultivators that the Lan Sect had sent to deal with a haunting sometime a few weeks ago, yes?”

“Yes I believe that was us,” Jingyi affirms her. The vendor smiles wider at that.

“Please accept this humble one’s loquats as thanks,” the vendor holds out a basket and bows at them. “The haunting was at my sister’s house. They wouldn’t have had enough money to move houses, especially because they’ve just had a baby, so they’re very thankful to the Lan Sect for handling it so quickly.”

Lan Xichen looks on proudly. Excessive pride is forbidden , but it is wonderful to see their sect’s disciples doing so well and being appreciated for it. 

“Ah, guniang there's no need, we simply did our duty as cultivators,” Lan Sizhui says sincerely. 

“All the more reason you should be thanked for it,” the vendor insists once again holding out the basket. “Truly not all cultivators would have handled it as graciously as the Lan Sect.”

Xichen doesn't think any of them were supposed to hear that last part, and luckily it appears none of the others were listening as they were simply waiting for the future’s Lan disciples to accept the gift so they could continue on their way. 

“We thank you for your generosity,” Lan Jingyi takes the basket as he and Lan Sizhui salute to the vendor. The vendor smiles brightly at them before looking towards Wei Shuilan and grins teasingly as Shuilan tilts her head forward politely in acknowledgment. 

“Gusu Lan disciples are truly kind people, don't you agree, guniang? You're in good hands traveling with them,” the vendor says to Shuilan cheerfully. “Very handsome, too!” she laughs. 

Shuilan looks to her two friends who had turned red at the compliment, before smiling softly and turning back to the young woman, “Mn, you're quite right about that.”

The young woman giggles at that, pleased with herself and pulls out another bag. “Would you like some loquats, guniang? A pretty girl like you deserves presents as well!”

“Oh no! That's okay,” Shuilan is quick to refuse, waving her hands in front of her. “I didn't do anything to earn them.”

“You can tell your friends about my stall and we’ll call it even,” the vendor winks at her shamelessly as Shuilan looks helplessly towards the two Lans who only smile at the scene indulgently. 

Shuilan takes the bag that's been shoved into her arms, she hastily thanks the vendor before they resume towards their destination.

Jingyi bites into a loquat before offering one to the others. 

“Wow we had to take down a ghost to get these, but all Shuilan had to do was smile at the vendor,” he says, teasing the girl who pouts at him. 

She huffs quietly before putting the bag of loquats into her qiankun pouch. The qiankun pouch that was filled with baked goods from the innkeeper’s daughter. 

“Is this genetic or something?” Jiang Wanyin jokes lightly. The best mood he's been in this entire time. “Wei Wuxian always gets free things thrown at him, too. Although, there's usually more flirting involved on his end."

In the corner of his eye he sees Wangji’s eyebrows furrow at that. 

“This is a common occurrence in Yunmeng I presume,” Lan Xichen inquired politely. 

“Girls are always gifting him things for one reason or another,” Jiang Wanyin looks faintly annoyed as he seems to be recalling a certain memory. “And he’s always giving them gifts as well. It’s like he has a compulsion to flirt with everything that moves.”

Wei Shuilan looks unimpressed with the conversation but makes no move to stop it.

“Wei-xiong is so popular,” Nie Huaisang chuckles. “I wasn’t there when you guys went to deal with the water-born abyss, but I did hear about Wei-xiong getting loquats from the vendors on the way because the girls thought he was handsome.”

Now Lan Xichen can clearly see how irritated his younger brother has become at the conversation topic. He also notices how both Shuilan and Lan Sizhui eye his brother with inscrutable expressions. 

Do they know of Wangji’s feelings for A-xian?

If they do, Lan Xichen can’t imagine how awkward this entire exchange is for them. The two are whispering to each other and for once Lan Xichen isn’t able to discern what they’re saying over the sound of the bustling street.

“Honestly whoever your mother is must have had the patience of a saint to be able to put up with him,” Jiang Wanyin proclaims to Wei Shuilan.

At this Wei Shuilan frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s so shameless and flirty, he might not be fooling around with girls but that doesn’t mean he looks any less frivolous,” He says is like a statement of fact.

“Because he’s friendly with people?” Shuilan asks, but by the tone of her voice it isn’t really a question. 

Lan Xichen is worried Jiang Wanyin might spark another argument. Wei Shuilan’s father is dead, and she must have very fond memories of him.

“There’s friendly and then there’s flirting,” Jiang Wanyin says defensively.

“You young masters need to go out more,” Shuilan deadpans. 

Jiang Wanyin sputters and Jin Zixuan seems to take offense at the generalization as well. 

“Everyone flirts with vendors as a way to haggle for discounts,” Shuilan continues ignoring the indignant young masters with her. “It’s also just for fun, there’s nothing wrong with people having fun if it’s not hurting anyone.”

Lan Jingyi grins, likely having heard this exchange before with different people, while Lan Sizhui tries to fight his smile.

“That’s disgraceful,” Jin Zixuan scoffs.

“You gentry people care too much about things that don’t matter,” Wei Shuilan links her arm with Lan Jingyi’s, who delightedly lets her prove her point while their companions, sans Lan Sizhui, look at them disbelievingly. Even Lan Xichen balks slightly at the casual display of closeness between the two. Often young ladies of sects would be escorted in public, arm in arm with their chaperones and fiancés fulfilling their duties, but this is clearly not that. "Your ideas of what’s appropriate and inappropriate are dictated by your repressed upbringings, and your learned adherence to keeping up appearances. They don’t hold any weight on their own,” is the last thing she says before they reach the end of the town where they have remount their swords and fly to entrance of Cloud Recesses.

They reach the entrance of Cloud Recesses with Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi leading the group. Wei Shuilan is a step behind them with the rest of the group following closely behind. The disciples guarding the entrance bow to the two of them. 

“Welcome back, young masters.”

The two of them salute back. “We come with guests.”

The two guards nod moving to allow them in before one of them looks towards the group and freezes.

“La-,” the guard coughs awkwardly, “Wei-gunaing.”

The other guard is taken aback by this as well. They both bow again to Wei Shuilan this time. Shuilan for her part seems uncomfortable by the entire exchange. She bows politely in response to them but doesn’t say anything. 

“She is here as my guest,” Lan Sizhui says sternly to the guards, who nod vigorously (for Lan disciples anyway) at him.

“Yes, Lan-gongzi!” 

Lan Xichen looks towards his brother, who shares his bewilderment at the interaction. 

Behind him he hears Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang whispering to each other, so at least he wasn’t the only one put off by this.

They are escorted to the Yashi where they will be meeting with this time’s Lan Xichen. 

The current Lan Xichen has to steel himself before the meeting. Very little was said about the man, in contrast to Lan Jingyi’s effusive praise of Lan Wangji, but he was told that the future him was a good sect leader and all the regular praise that he was used to growing up. As sect leader he does not have the time to take such a hands on approach to teaching the disciples, no that falls onto his brother, so it makes sense that the juniors would have more to say about his brother but he can’t help but be nervous. Not even Lan Sizhui, his nephew, said anything that quelled his nerves.

Lan Jingyi is the one who had gone to get Zewu-jun, while Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan wait with them. It doesn’t take long for the others to start asking them questions.

“What was that about?” Jin Zixuan aims the question at Lan Sizhui.

“What do you mean?” In Lan Sizhui’s defense he does actually sound confused.

“That whole thing with the guards,” Jiang Wanyin interjects. “Why’d they react to her like that?”

The her in question is doing a wonderful job of pretending that she cannot hear them. 

The others continue to question Lan Sizhui, as they realize they won’t be getting answers from Shuilan herself. Lan Xichen sits down by his brother instead as Lan Sizhui seems fine answering their questions, though not without slight deflections.

“How are you doing, Wangji?”

His brother nods at him, pauses, then speaks, “It is odd that Wei Shuilan seems quite familiar with the Lan.”

Ah, so even his brother is curious about what happened earlier.

“Indeed,” Lan Xichen says evenly, “Even the guards seem to have history with her.”

Wangji nods in agreement while looking at the group sat away from them.

“However, I was referring to the fact that Lan Sizhui is your son.”

“Ah.”

Lan Xichen was happy after hearing such a thing. His brother, who vastly prefers to be on his own (although that had changed recently), had managed to have a son. A son who appears to be a strong cultivator and thinks very highly of his own father. There’s nothing Lan Xichen wants more for his brother than to have a happy family, and it appears that it had happened for him.

But presently, his brother looks quite disgruntled at the idea that he had married and had a son. A part of Xichen wished he didn’t know why. 

“Your son seems to be an impressive young master, Wangji. You should be proud,” he tries to console.

Wangji merely nods watching Lan Sizhui try to involve Shuilan in their conversation, much to her consternation. 

He feels for his brother, he truly does, but there is very little to be done in the face of their future.

Lan Xichen opens his mouth to say anything else to cheer up his brother before the sound of someone entering the room catches everyone’s attention. 

Lan Sizhui is the first to react. 

“This disciple greets the Sect leader of the Lan.”

At the entrance of the room is Zewu-jun, who stares at them all frozen in shock.

Lan Xichen stands and bows in perfect form to his future self. 

“Greetings Zewu-jun, my companions and I humbly ask for your and the Lan Sect’s aid."

Chapter Text

Shuilan lays her head against her father’s chest as the man gently strokes her hair, softly humming a familiar tune. The gentle trill of his voice while he walks around, and behind him the backdrop of the desolate wasteland known as the Burial Mounds. The dead, cold air around them is juxtaposed by the warmth that Shuilan feels from her father, her baba, as he shields her from the worst of it. Safely tucked to his heart, she can feel the steady rhythm of his lungs and thinks that this is what home feels like. She reaches up and tugs on a lock of hair that had fallen over his shoulder. 

“Baba?” She calls to get his attention. 

The humming ceases and he looks down at the little baby in his arms. So soft and sweet, such a thing has no place in this graveyard. He smiles and holds her up higher so her head can rest on his shoulder instead. 

“Why do you stay?”

Why do you stay here, where nothing grows, where it’s cold, where not even the sun dares to breach its rays past the darkness.

His smile falters at that. He’s quiet. He’s not often quiet. No one likes it when he’s quiet. 

They get scared when he’s quiet. 

Shuilan can’t tell if it’s of him or for him.

Shuilan remembers an angry man in purple, screaming at her father to leave this place. She remembers hiding behind the rocks and watching as the purple man stormed away, and how sad her baba had looked afterwards. How she wanted to reach out to him but couldn’t.

He walks over to a boulder by the entrance of his cave and sits down on it, settling her on his lap facing him.

He takes a breath, “In my former sect we had a saying: “attempt the impossible”, I remember the previous Jiang Zongzhu told me that I embodied the sect motto and truly understood what it meant to be a Jiang,” he smiled bitterly, face full of regret before continuing, “People thought it was because I was gifted, that I had the capabilities to do great things, but that’s not what it meant at all.” 

He looks down at her, locked on her eyes that were such a familiar colour it hurt to remember just who she took after. 

“Shui’er,” he says sternly, more serious than she could ever remember him being, “to attempt the impossible means to do what you think is right, to do what you believe in, even if it seems impossible.” 

He pauses once again and holds her close to his heart. As if to bring her back into him so no one would be able to separate them, Shuilan feels him tremble. His voice grows soft, and he begins to speak more to himself than to her.

“It means to make your choices, to own them, and bear the weight of their consequences. You can go out in the world and do all these amazing things, but if you find that you can’t stand on your own when it matters, what was it all for?”

Wei Shuilan watches on as Sect Leader Lan tries to comprehend the situation in front of him. 

He doesn't gawk. No, he's much too dignified for that. Instead, the man takes a moment to collect himself before turning to Lan Jingyi, who had moved further into the room to stand next to Sizhui. 

Shuilan watches on with a disinterested countenance. Lan-zongzhu, who she once regarded with the fondness that one has for a close family member, now only serves to remind her of more troubling times in her life during her last days as a Lan Sect disciple. In the end she was too much for them, what could they have expected from the child of a heretic. Though her personality was unlike her father’s, she was still too much. She looked too much like him, she took too easily to cultivation like he did, she was too curious, too inquisitive, and too critical of the society around her. 

Just like he was.

She was born from excess emotion, from a momentary lapse in judgment, and her mere existence was an affront to the Lan Sect’s sacred rules. Another dark spot in their history. It was sacrilegious for Hanguang-jun to bring her here and allow her to live, even if she was the product of his and his beloved’s energies merging with each other and creating life in such an unconventional, monstrous way. It didn’t matter that there was almost no difference between her and the babies that came from their mothers. 

She is an abomination.

She loathes to be back here, in this place that treated her no better than a parasite. Whom they hid for as long as they could, with an injured Hanguang-jun powerless to go against them. The elders wished to be rid of her, senior disciples avoided her, while the disciples her age were conflicted, and her family either incapable or unwilling to protect her. She can only be thankful that her presence had offered her brother comfort in the hour of their father’s death, and the unwilling absence of the other. She used to find it unfair that he was treated better than she was despite the fact that they were both Wei Wuxian’s children. She didn’t understand it at the time, she didn’t understand that when they looked at her, it was as if they were looking at Wei Wuxian himself. That Sizhui at least served them no reminder for their own failings towards a man that was brutalized for doing what was right. In their want to banish their own guilt they decided that they would make sure it never happened again. And what better way for the cultivation world, that never truly learned its lesson, to do so than by punishing her, ensuring for themselves that she would be nothing like her father. To go so far as to try to stifle her potential, and make it so that she would never be a powerful cultivator.

Who better to accomplish such a feat than the Gusu Lan Sect, with harsh discipline and rigidity in their righteousness. 

And how righteous they are! As they deliberately misconstrued the facts in order to make the problem her father, with no acknowledgment of other influences that had contributed to another bloodbath. For the righteous have no use for the truth when they fight for the greater good, and those in power have no desire for change. 

The more Shuilan thinks of her life after Wei Wuxian’s death, of the childhood that was robbed from her, the more she questions the intelligence of those with authority in the cultivation world. They don't realize the cyclical nature of their flawed, volatile systems in which they govern themselves. They don’t realize how easy it would have been for her to do what Wei Wuxian never had the heart to truly finish and kill them all.

I suppose there’s no need for critical thought when you have power and money, She thinks to herself. They’ll only have themselves to blame when they tear each other apart again.

Looking on as Lan Xichen explained what had happened to Zewu-jun, she thinks to herself that no, there was no part of her that missed this place. 

“And so we hope that we would have access to the library in order to find the treatise that had the array formation in it, in order to deduce how we could back,” Lan Xixhen finishes his explanation with a bow towards the future him. 

“I see,” Zewu-jun responds gravely. “This is a problem, indeed.”

The man looked quite troubled, which did nothing to help with the mood. Sizhui and Jingyi had stood straighter at his tone, worried that there would be a problem with them bringing everyone here. Shuilan continues to observe the man, as he finally comes to a decision.

“The Lan Sect will provide you with whatever you need in order to get back to your proper time,” Zewu-jun magnanimously replies. “I only worry that it will not be enough.”

“I’m sure it will be more than enough, Zongzhu,” Lan Xichen replies not understanding what has this man so worried.

Lan Zongzhu appears to be battling within himself, and Shuilan catches on to what the issue is.

“There may be documents and other books missing from the library that you have in your time,” Shuilan’s voice catches them all off guard, as she had been but a silent observer. 

Zewu-jun freezes once more before turning to her. 

“Shuilan,” is all he says, breathless as he spoke.

Shuilan cups her hands respectfully, “Lan-zongzhu.”

The Sect Leader looks at her, his expression one of heartbreak as his gaze drops to the sword on her hip, but only for a moment before he returns her greeting.

“You’ve grown.”

She nods but doesn’t respond, and she can see the confusion rising in the room from the other young masters, while Jingyi and Sizhui watch on quietly.

Zewu-jun smiles sadly once again before addressing the young master, “With her assistance I see no reason to worry about sending you all home.”

The young masters are taken aback by that, Lan Xichen recovers first.

“She must be as gifted as Wei-gongzi is,” Lan Xichen looks relieved as he says this.

“Indeed,” Zewu-jun’s face tightens at the mention of Wei Wuxian, but thankfully no one notices. “You all must be tired from your travels, perhaps it is best to continue this tomorrow. So that you’re all well rested when doing your research in the library.”

After getting everyone’s agreement Zewu-jun goes to address his current Sizhui and Shuilan. 

“May I speak with you two in my study?”

The sect heirs are escorted to the guest quarters by a concerned Lan Jingyi. The boy looked reluctant to depart from the siblings but as it was ordered by his sect leader he had no choice but to obey. With the loquat basket in hand, he leads the sect heirs to the guest quarters. Once they were gone, the remaining three headed towards the hanshi.

He had debated whether or not to send his and Wangji’s younger counterparts to a more familiar residence but decided against it. He would speak with his brother tomorrow and see what he thinks about the situation. 

Once in the comfort of his home Zewu-jun felt like he could breathe again. The sight of his estranged niece had rendered him speechless and guilty. Their parting had not been a warm one, and he had genuinely believed that nothing short of a miracle would bring her back to her home.

Though time travel could be considered a miracle, I suppose, he thinks to himself without humour. 

These last few years he had only heard about her through second hand accounts from both Wangji and Sizhui, and sometimes through rumours at banquets. The rumours always varied in their fanfare but what they all had in common was that she'd behaved disrespectfully towards other cultivators during their assignments to different towns and villages, that she'd been stealing their nighthunts. A part of him wanted to reach out, if only to counsel her to play nice with them so that she wouldn't get caught up in something she couldn't handle, but he knew he would be overstepping and it wouldn't be met with appreciation.

“They must have been quite the surprise when they popped up in your area,” Lan Xichen begins, his comment meant for Shuilan, and gestures for the two of them to sit down. 

“Indeed,” she says as she and her brother take a seat at his table. “And not a welcome one, given the circumstances,” as blunt as she's always been. In this aspect of her she truly took after Wangji. 

He coughs uncomfortably at that. 

She's the same yet somehow different, not just because she’s grown. Xichen will never understand his brother’s thinking behind allowing his fourteen year old daughter to secede from her sect, without the protection and comforts of the clan. 

But as she sits in front of him, taller at seventeen years of age, dressed in simple gray robes of modest quality, and her hair tied tightly in a top knot more similar to that of a man, she's grown up faster than anyone realized. He doesn't know how to feel about it. 

Sizhui, ever the good boy that he was, sought to keep things from getting awkward. 

“The areas around the Burial Mounds have improved greatly since Shuilan upgraded the previous talismans, the common folk in the area seem much more at ease.”

“It's an impressive feat you've accomplished, Shuilan,” Lan Xichen compliments her, hoping to segue into a more personal conversation with her. 

She shrugged indelicately and said, “It was necessary. No one else was doing anything about it.”

Unfortunately his niece never made things easy.

Sizhui let out a strained laugh, as Xichen struggled to come up with a response. 

It is true that the sect’s have been negligent in their assistance of those around the Burial Mounds, but given that they had gained a sentience they never had before and demolished entire sects , he feels that their caution is not unreasonable.

At last she takes pity on them. 

“Zewu-jun, would you allow this one to prepare some tea?”

“Of course, go ahead, Shuilan,” he allows, relieved as she moves to stand.

“Also, if you do not mind, I was given some sweet buns before we departed to Cloud Recesses,” she tries to say casually, but Lan Xichen can see the way that she fights to keep her hands still by her sides while her eyes stay on him.

Lan Xichen's smile is full of affection. “That would be lovely.”

She nods and reaches into her sleeve to pull out a qiankun pouch that she then hands to Sizhui in order to pull out the food. She walks over to the small table by the shelves where Lan Xichen keeps his tea set and fills it with water from a pitcher.

Lan Xichen watches her for a  moment, taking in her image, then turns to Sizhui. “The two of you should go visit your father before curfew, it'd be a happy surprise for him.”

“Yes, uncle,” Sizhui agrees, smiling. “Is a-die’s guest fairing well?”

“Young Master Mo? Ah, well he's quite the spirited young man,” Lan Xichen chuckles as he recalls running into them earlier today. His brother hadn't looked so happy in quite some time. “He was having some trouble adjusting earlier, but I think he and Wangji have reached an understanding so I'm sure he’ll be fine.”

“A-die has a guest?” Shuilan asks as she sets down the tea set and begins to pour the two of them tea and then herself. She sips at the liquid before frowning down at the cup. “Why is it always so bitter,” she mutters, shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“It's meant to taste like that, your capabilities aren't in question,” Sizhui jokingly consoles. He reaches for the mantous, hands one to his sister and takes the other for himself and bites. “The filling is quite sweet, uncle should try one.”

Without further prompting Lan Xichen takes one for himself to try. He turns to Shuilan and says, “This is very good, please convey my compliments to the baker.”

She nods while taking another bite of her food, the barest hints of a smile on her face as she finishes the bun.

Lan Xichen had missed this, even though he knows he has no right to. His brother had made sure that he's aware of what words were exchanged between the two, and that he had no right to speak to his niece that way.

She just looks so much like him . 

Sizhui’s voice stops him from entertaining more unpleasant thoughts.

“There was a young master at the house of our last assignment. He was one of the former Jin-zongzhu’s illegitimate children. He'd been kicked out of the sect and was living with his mother's family,” an upset look took over his nephew’s face. “They made him live in a shed and starved him as punishment.”

“Ah,” Shuilan nods in understanding, out of everyone here she probably understands the most. “Good that he got away then.”

“That's not all, he used demonic cultivation to help us against an evil goddess statue. We ran into Jiang-zongzhu, and you know how he is about demonic cultivators,” Sizhui continued. “Hanguang-jun brought him here to help him avoid Jiang-zongzhu.”

Shuilan frowns then sighs. “Of course. It doesn't matter why he used it, all that matters is that it's unorthodox.” Her fingers flex around her cup.

Lan Xichen’s own opinions on the increasing use of demonic cultivation are quite complicated. On one hand he doubts that anyone would ever be able to have the same kind of power that Wei Wuxian had, on the other it still presents the possibility. And then there's people like Mo Xuanyu. 

He knows it's unfair, he knows that Wei Wuxian had used it out of necessity due to his lack of golden core, but that doesn't erase all the damage he did. It doesn't change the fact that he went too far, and his brother was caught in the crossfire. 

He decides to change the subject.

“It would be in everyone’s best interest to keep them from meeting their current counterparts. Will the two of you be able to handle this on your own,” he brings the conversation to issue at hand. 

“If we can't, we will ask Grandmaster Lan. Actually we should probably ask him for help anyway,” Sizhui says simply. “They said that he was the one to assign the task to him, so he would hopefully have some knowledge of the array and how to counter it.”

“I don't recall ever seeing your father work on something like this,” Lan Xichen admits. 

“So it really is a divergence,” Shuilan whispers, then louder she says, “I guess that means we really don't have to worry about them knowing things that’ll change their future, because their timeline is already on a different course.

“That's a relief,” Sizhui adds. “I don't think I could keep Jingyi from revealing anything important.”

“It also means we don't have to worry about explanations if they do learn some of the more precarious information.”

Lan Xichen hums at that. 

“How do you mean?”

“If they hear something about the Sunshot Campaign or anything after that, we don't have to worry about trying to convince them to do anything with that information in order to preserve our current timeline.”

The anything after that goes without saying. Though perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell them certain things to avoid, but before Xichen can get lost in thought he feels a heavy stare weighing at him. 

Shuilan watches him with a completely neutral expression, and just like that their tentative peace is broken.

“Lan-zongzhu, I don't think it wise to use these people for one's own personal satisfaction, even if it won't directly affect us,” Shuilan states blandly, but the disapproval is clear. “It is their world not ours, and therefore we don't have the right to try and make choices for them.”

“Isn't that what we’re doing by limiting what reaches them?”

“Limiting their knowledge of the future so that they don't make choices based on what might happen in their timeline is different from arming them with knowledge in order for them to accomplish what you failed to do.”

Feeling chastised by his own niece, Lan Xichen hates that he can't even refute her. He was thinking about warning them of Wei Wuxian's eventual downfall, and how easily it would have been prevented. Hindsight had given him the clarity to understand that. If the loss of his core could have been prevented, the promising young man would have never become a heretic, and consequently none of the problems that had come afterwards would have occurred. 

Shuilan is glaring at him again, and he's almost worried that he said all of those thoughts aloud. He knows that she has always thought highly of her late father, in spite of all the hurt that he caused. He tries to be mindful to both Shuilan and Sizhui, respecting their love for their late parent.

But if it wasn't for him…  

Lan Xichen will admit to himself that he also feels responsible. He had been the man’s friend, perhaps had he tried harder he could have convinced him.

“After all this time it appears that you still don't understand,” Shuilan's voice is heavy with disappointment as she speaks quietly. 

A solemn silence covers them, as Sizhui looks worriedly between the two.

“It's been a long day for you two, dinner will be served soon,” Lan Xichen says defeated. He had merely wanted to see his niece again, but had managed to have another disagreement bordering on conflict wrought with the unresolved differences between them. 

Sizhui takes the dismissal and gestures for his sister to stand. They both bow to him and make their exit, but before they leave Shuilan turns back around and bows again, lower this time. Her hands steady and unwavering as they remain cupped in front of her. 

“This one apologizes for their impertinence, but asks Lan-zongzhu to understand that the past is not theirs to fix.” 

And with those parting words she leaves with her brother.

Lan Xichen lets out a long shaky breath once he's certain they've left. He rubs his hands over his face with his free hand. He takes another bite, the filling of the bun taking on a more sour note.

He whispers to the empty room, “Do not argue with your family, for it does not matter who wins.”

Lan Xichen can feel it in his bones that this rule does not always hold true.

Lan Wangji would be lying if he said that he has never thought about marriage, and Lan's do not lie.

His parent’s marriage was a catastrophe that resulted in the loss of a Sect Leader, and with his mother’s imprisonment for something that no one had ever disclosed in full to him or his brother. Wangji remembers her misery and he remembers it well, with her children serving as the only reprieve from pain, mere specs of hope in the vastness of her isolation.

In saving her life, Lan Wangji’s father destroyed her freedom. His mother was forced to marry his father for her own protection. Even without his clan’s teachings, Wangji would never do something like that to the person he loves. 

Wangji wonders if she knew what the rest of her life would be like, if she would have preferred to be executed.

His father made a mistake, a mistake the elders were determined to ensure was not to be repeated. They were concerned when a young Lan Zhan, not yet Wangji, had begun to exhibit similarities in his personality characteristics to his disappointment of a father, when they saw how stubborn and unyielding he was in his desire to spend time with his mother, even more so than his older brother. They attempted to control his behaivour using that, telling him that he would only be allowed to see his mother if he had conducted himself in a way they deemed acceptable. Wangji sought to uphold his clan rules to the best of his abilities as a young child. So he didn’t understand it when he was told he would no longer have his visits to his mother. He did everything they told him to, why are they punishing him? He waited for her, kneeling outside of the Gentian House in the snow unknowing that he would no longer know the warmth and safety of her embrace. He waited for her for so long, thinking that if he just waited for long enough his mother would forgive him for whatever wrongdoing he committed.

Now at fifteen he is the prodigious Second Jade of Lan, the pride of Gusu Lan. Wangji was the embodiment of the teachings of the sect, he was expected to conduct himself in accordance with their rules and expectations. Lan Wangji was the untouchable Second Young Master of the Lan Sect. 

And with it came a loneliness he didn’t know how to combat.

His brother did his best, but being a child himself he could not protect Wangji from everything, and his uncle was strict even by Lan standards. He wanted better for his nephews than what their father had given them, and he raised them in the best way he knew how. Lan Qiren was a teacher before he was a father figure, and with that he impressed the importance of their rules, their laws, on his nephews. 

For the longest time the rules were all he had. The rules were all that he could be. Without them, who is he?

“Wangji,” his brother calls softly to him. 

Lan Wangji looks up to him and sees the older boy’s forehead creased in concern. He doesn't know what kind of face he was making, only that his brother would be the only who could tell that something was truly bothering him.

It feels odd to be in the guest quarters of his own sect rather than in the Jingshi but understandably they cannot house him there, for it already belongs to someone in this time. Someone older who grew up and gained a son, a family. 

Was it out of obligation, or did he find someone to share his life with?

And if this Hanguang-jun was anything like him, how had he moved on from Wei Ying?

Wangji can’t imagine it, but what can he do in the face of the future if not to believe it. His son had made no attempt to try and speak with, only a few cautious glances thrown his way before ultimately deciding to stay away for now. His son must not have known how to interact with him as well, but Wangji rests assured that he at least is present in his son’s life, unlike his own father. 

His son, Lan Yuan, courtesy name Sizhui. A son close enough in age to Wei Ying’s daughter for them to be friends, which meant that the him of this timeline must have thought his love to be hopeless. There’s too many questions, and very few answers that would be freely given in these circumstances.

“Wangji,” his brother calls again after receiving no response. “The future isn’t set in stone.”

“Perhaps,” he hums in response, not wanting to have this conversation.

“We seem to be in good hands, I’m sure we’ll be home soon.”

“Mn."

Lan Xichen continues to look at him with a look that isn’t quite pity. 

“Perhaps when we get back, you could consider speaking with A-xian about what happened,” Lan Xichen tries to offer him solace. “I imagine he’d be quite interested in what we’ve seen here.”

“Xiongzhang,” Wangji manages to keep his voice even. “I will be okay.”

Lan Xichen deflates and nods in acquiescence, before both brothers are alerted to a commotion just outside of their room. 

Outside their door they hear the familiar staccato of running feet accompanied by frantic whispering. Neither can make out what is being said, but the Twin Jades of Lan share a look before nodding and moving to see what is happening.

Lan Xichen is out the door first, Wangji following closely, as they both see the familiar outline of the Nie heir turning a corner at the end of the hallway.

Lan Xichen takes a breath and very much looks like he wants to go back into their room and pretend that they saw nothing.  “I suppose we should go after them to make sure they don’t cause any trouble.”

“Mn.”

They depart quickly without running and soon catch sight of the ridiculous display that is three young masters from the major sects hiding behind a pillar just outside of the guest quarters in view of the back of the building that contains the dining hall a distance away. The brothers move quietly so as to not alert the oblivious young masters of their approaching presence. 

“I’m telling you, we should just deal with it and have dinner in the dining hall,” advises Nie Huaisang and he nervously fidgets with his fan in hand. The other two young masters look at him in annoyance as they scout the area for any people that may hinder their goal. How unfortunate for them that the Twin Jades of  Lan intend to do just that.

“I am not dealing with Gusu Lan’s rabbit food after everything that’s happened today,” declares Jiang Wanyin. “I need at least one good thing.”

“We should’ve just asked Xiao-wei to share her treats with us,” Nie Huaisang bargains. “She’s nice, she would’ve shared.”

Jin Zixuan scoffs, “Nice is definitely not the word I would have used to describe her.”

Wangji thinks of the way that Shuilan interacted with the townspeople before they left. This morning during breakfast he got to see how she behaved around people she was comfortable with, and again with the arrival of Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui. Lan Sizhui and lan Jingyi were both casually affectionate, and the townspeople were incredibly fond of her; he cannot imagine that such an ill-mannered person would be able to gain the trust and affections of so many people.

Her lack of amiability may be specific to Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan, Wangji thinks to himself. It is not a kind thought, neither is it an incorrect observation. 

In fact, he’d say that his interactions with her have been decent enough. Wangji thought Shuilan was handling the situation quite well actually. Wei Shuilan did not have to help them, and yet she not only agreed to help them but had traveled with them, despite clearly preferring to stay in her town, and decided to stay and assist them when she could simply leave them in the hands of the Lan Sect. She might not be nice, but Wangji sees a familiar kindness in her.

And it is with that thought in mind that compels him to say, “Do not speak ill of others.”

Wangji will admit to no one but himself the smug feeling that the sound of terror that all three young masters made at his appearance evoked. He does not flinch as his brother glances at him from the corner of his eye.

“Gongzis, perhaps you would like to inform us of what you’re doing right now,” Lan Xichen’s placid smile greets them as they clutch at their own chests trying to slow down their hearts.

“Isn’t there a rule against sneaking up on others!” Jiang Wanyin points a finger at the Lans, who stare back at him unflinchingly.

“Xichen-ge,” Nie Huaisang giggles, slightly hysterical. “We weren’t doing anything,” the feeble young man says, convincing nobody.

Surprisingly, Jin Zixuan is the one who speaks up.

“Zewu-jun, Lan-er-gongzi, we were simply hoping to get something else to eat for dinner,” he ignores the protests from his two companions. “It has been a tiring day, and we simply are in want of something a little more to our tastes than the Lan Sect’s regular diet.”

Lan Xichen looks searchingly at the three boys. He does not sigh, but Wangji can tell that he would very much like to. He feels for his brother, this must be exhausting for him. 

“Alright.” 

So exhausted that his ability to make sound decisions has been impacted. 

Wangji whips his head to his brother, “Xiongzhang.”

“You will not be going down to Caiyi, I’d rather not have to explain to Zewu-jun that three out of the five of us have gone out gallivanting when we should be acting with discretion,” the young man states, “but I will speak to Zewu-jun about having the cooks make something to cater to your tastes.”

The three young masters look happier at that. Wangji does not think that their behaviour should be rewarded, but agrees that this at least keeps them from doing something reckless. 

“Hey is that Shuilan?” Nie Huaisang says catching everyone’s attention. 

Unconsciously they all move further behind the pillar to stay hidden. Why? Wangji couldn’t tell you.

The five of them are silent as they watch her emerge from the back exit of the dining hall.

“That’s odd,” his brother says. “That exit is usually used by clan members.”

“Wait really,” Jin Zixuan inquires.

“Yes, as the pathway it’s on leads to our residential area.”

They startle at that. Glancing at each other in confusion.

“Where is she going? Isn’t she staying in the women’s quarters?” asks Jiang Wanyin. 

“Perhaps she’s looking for Lan Sizhui or Lan Jingyi.”

“We should follow her,” says Nie Huaisang. 

Four heads turn to him with varying degrees of confusion. The Nie heir isn’t deterred.

“Aren’t you curious? Why would she be going to the private sector of the Lan Sect,” Nie Huaisang tries to convince them. “And why is no one stopping her?”

Nie Huaisang points in her direction causing the rest of them to turn back, and indeed. Wei Shuilan just passed a servant who simply bowed at her and continued on their way. Once she was out of view they turned back to Nie Huaisang. 

“Don’t you find it odd that she’s so familiar with people from the Lan Clan, that they are her first choice to go to for help? Don’t you want to know what happened to Wei-xiong.”

Of course it’s odd, but Wangji does not want to pry. He wants to respect her privacy as she clearly has things that she wants to keep to herself. Unfortunately Nie Huaisang has managed to convince the two people most likely to upset her.

Lan Wangji turns away from the aggravating conversation and looks to his brother instead, “Xiongzhang, you should make your way over to the hanshi before the cooks turn in for the night.”

“Yes, I’ll be on my way then,” his brother nods to him, “Please make sure they stay out of trouble….” Lan Xichen trails off as he looks past WAngji’s shoulder, “...where did they go?”

Lan Wangji pivots and sees no one behind him. He looks to the path that Shuilan had taken and sees the shadows of the three people that Wangji no longer wants anything to do with. 

(In the short amount of time that the Twin Jades of Lan had looked away, the three young masters had decided on their own course of action.

“If we corner her, maybe she’ll finally answer my questions,” Jiang Wanyin muses. Lan Wangji would have glared at him but the other boy isn’t paying attention.

“Yeah, clearly Wei-xiong left the Jiangs at some point, maybe he married into the Lan,” Nie Huaisang says to be conspiratory more than anything else..

“That’s it, we’re going,” declares the Jiang heir dragging Nie Huaisang with him with Jin Zixuan following, wanting to know what exactly her problem with the Jin Sect was.)

Dumbfounded, both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen stare in the direction that the other had run off in. Wangji didn’t actually believe that they would just leave like that, but evidently he underestimated how foolish they were.

The two brothers walk briskly to catch up to them.

Along the path the figure of a young girl comes back into view. The five of them walk among the shrubs and trees to stay out of sight as she continues to walk, unaware of what Wangji can only assume is the comical picture that they make hiding for no reason.

His brother has given up on trying to get them back into their rooms, of the mind that if they let this happen it’ll hopefully be over soon. Wangji still thinks that they should drag them away and be done with it even if it will anger them.

“Xiao-wei must’ve been a Lan disciple I’m telling you,” Nie Huaisang asserts. “Wei-xiong must’ve fallen for a female Lan disciple and married in.”

Gossip is forbidden, Wangji recites in his head, entirely too late to enforce. As if reading his thoughts his brother lays a hand on his shoulder.

“These are unusual circumstances, we can let it go for now.”

Wangji doesn’t agree but doesn’t voice his thoughts. 

“Don’t be stupid,” snaps Jiang Wanyin, “Wei Wuxian is a Jiang, and after everything my family’s done for him he wouldn’t have just left for something as frivolous as falling in love. Shuilan must have been a Jiang disciple before she left to live in that wasteland.”

“Then why didn’t you stop her, huh?” counters Nie Huaisang. “If she’s as good as family to you why didn’t you stop her.”

“Probably decided she couldn’t handle your temper,” mutters Jin Zixuan.

Jiang Wanyin glares at him. “If there’s anyone she couldn’t deal with, it’d be the people from your sect,” he snipes back, “What, the Jin have nothing better to do than go bothering some girl?”

Jin Zixuan huffs but is cut off by Nie Huaisang.

“We’ll lose track of her at this rate, come on.”

This urges them to move, still behind the shrubbery. Lan Wangji reluctantly follows as his brother shushes the group to at least keep them from drawing anyone’s attention. 

Then his brother says something drawing back his attention.

“Wangji? Isn’t this the way to the Jingshi?”

Lan Wangji looks around and notes the familiar landscape that he hadn’t noticed earlier in his annoyance. He furrows his brows as he watches Wei Shuilan take the same path that he himself has used since moving into the house.

“What’s the Jingshi? Why does that matter?” Jin Zixuan asks, the rest of the group also not understanding the relevance.

“It is Wangji’s home,” Lan Xichen clarifies.

There’s a brief silence as the rest take that information in. 

“Maybe she’s meeting with Lan Sizhui?”

Lan Xichen shakes his head, “Unless Hanguang-jun has decided to break tradition, at this age his son would live in either the disciple dorms or in his own residence as a member of the main family. He wouldn’t still be living with Wangji.”

“Well all the more reason to follow her and find out,” Nie Huaisang whispers.

It’s a wonder that they haven’t been caught yet, but if the earlier observations were correct Wei Shuilan’s cultivation is lower than Wei Ying’s is at this age. Luckily for them they seem to be at a far enough distance for their chatter to go unnoticed. 

(In reality Shuilan can hear them whispering and moving about, just not well enough to make out who exactly is following her. She grew up under heavy surveillance so she’s just assumed that the elders have now been informed of her presence and had tasked some disciples or servants to watch her. As she’s simply going to visit her father she doesn’t see the need to care about being watched, and doesn’t see the point in drawing attention to it..)

Is she really going to see my future self?

Wangji follows the group, and as they gradually catch up to the girl it becomes clear that she really is headed for the Jingshi. 

Peering from behind the tree that they’ve gathered at, before rushing to the side of the house while her back is turned. They watch as she goes up to the porch and knocks on the door.

“Why is she at your house?” Nie Huaisang looks giddy as they watch her wait, like the gossip vulture that he is.

The door opens, but it is not Wangji who answers the door.

“Oh! I’m sorry I was looking for Hanguang-jun,” Shuilan says, surprise coloring her tone. 

So she was on her way to see me, Wangji thinks to himself. But who answered the door?

Everyone stays silent, listening intently to the exchange.

“Well the Jingshi is definitely a good guess,” the playful voice of a man none of them recognize responds.

“Ah, well I was hoping to catch him after dinner,” Shuilan explains sheepishly before giving a polite bow. “This one is Wei Shuilan.”

The man stills at that, his playful demeanor ceasing. “Wei Shuilan?” he whispers, almost as if in awe. At this angle they can’t see the man’s face regardless of how Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang shove at each other to get a closer look, to the apparent annoyance of the Jin heir. The only thing in view is the man’s ponytail and the back of their dark robes.

Shuilan’s expression begins to look concerned, “Are you alright, gongzi?”

The man seems to jump at that, “Ah! Yes I’m fine, nothing to worry about!” he dips into a low, clumsy bow, “This one is Mo Xuanyu, guniang. Hanguang-jun has been kind enough to house this lowly one after rescuing him some days ago.”

Shuilan gently places her hands under the man's arms to pull him up from his bow. “There’s no need for that, Mo-gongzi. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, smiling kindly at the man who seems to curl in on himself more.

“The fuck? Who is this guy,” Jiang Wanyin mutters, before being shushed. Thankfully neither person being watched noticed.

“Oh! Hanguang-jun stepped out for a moment because his uncle called for him. Would you like to come in and wait for him, if you don’t mind me keeping you company?” the unknown man offers.

Shuilan nods and smiles, “Thank you, Mo-gongzi.”

The man moves aside to allow Shuilan to go inside. The two disappear from view and the group watching them steps out of their hiding spot.

“I thought the whole point of following her was to get answers,” Jin Zixuan says, peeved, “Now I just have more questions.”

“Why on earth is she looking for this guy,” Jiang Wanyin gestures to Lan Wangji as if he would know the answer to that.

“Your families must have been very close, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says, with a teasing glint in his eyes. His demeanor out of place with the rest of the group’s disgruntled response.

“What do you mean, Xichen-ge?” Nie Huaisang asks with his eyes narrowed.

“During breakfast this morning, Shuilan told us that A-xian and Wangji were close friends, and so he was very present during her childhood.”

“You’re joking,” the Jiang heir says, his mouth agape. 

The Nie heir, on the other hand, looks delighted.

“That just further proves my theory!”

“Don’t yell! You’ll get us caught!” Jiang Wanyin yells.

“You’re just mad that I’m right!”

“Both of you quit it!” adds Jin Zixuan.

Lan Wangji watches them quarrel as his brother tries to contain the noise, otherwise they will get caught. 

He is still processing what they watched.

Of course Wangji believed what Shuilan said about his relationship with Wei Ying, but seeing evidence of it still shocked him. Afterall, who would allow someone they don’t trust around their child? The thought of raising his own child alongside, if not with, Wei Ying’s makes his chest warm. Perhaps he can console himself with this.

“That’s enough! We aren’t even supposed to be here, we should head back to our rooms before someone notices we’ve gone,” his brother tries to reason with the walls.

This simply rouses another round of arguing, and Wangji has never been more thankful for the Jingshi’s thick walls.

Lan Wangji is about to grab the three of them and drag them back to guest quarters, but before he can move a familiar stern voice calls out to them.

“Sneaking around is forbidden.”

The arguing ceases and is exchanged for wide eyes and dropped jaws.

Wangji turns around and is met with hardened, light-coloured eyes on the face of a man, whose title he was doubting he would ever be able to live up to.

“Hanguang-jun.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian is often referred to as a prodigy. 

Within his generation there are few people who can truly keep up with him. Before, people simply thought that it meant he was a powerful cultivator, and it wasn’t until recently that it became apparent that he was also gifted as an intellectual. Wei Wuxian is arrogant in the same way that young cultivators typically are, believing themselves to be unbreakable having yet to be challenged in any way that is meaningful to their development as an individual, but even more so because he is talented. There are many things that set him apart from other young masters within cultivation society. 

Wei Wuxian does not shy away from failure. He was never allowed to. He started cultivating at a much later age, and he did so alongside his age mates, in addition to learning how to read and write. He was told it was to encourage him to improve, others believed it was to show him his own inadequacy. Whatever the reason may be is irrelevant. If Wei Wuxian wanted to keep up, he couldn’t be afraid of failure. 

Until now.

Now, his failure affects more than just him. 

Now if he fails, four out of the five major sects lose their heirs. 

Now, Wei Wuxian cannot even entertain the possibility of failure. 

If I fail, what happens next? What happens to them ? What happens to Jiang Cheng?

What happens to Lan Zhan?

Wei Wuxian walked away from his meeting with Lan Qiren with heavy shoulders, and had resolved to do what he does best, attempt the impossible.

And what’s more impossible than harnessing time travel of all things.

The last two days he has been able to determine that the sect heirs had not just been sent outside of the sect walls. The talisman had sent them into the future. He knows that the talisman had been able to use the energy that the array formation had released upon activation in order to have enough power to affect five people. He knows that the reason that he is still here is because the array formation had worked as a type of anchor in order to counteract the talisman (at least he knows that they are able to counter each other now), and he knows that the sect heirs have been propelled forward in time. 

What he doesn’t know is how far into the future they went. He doesn’t know how to track them in order to figure it out. He doesn’t know how to get them back.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t fucking know what to do.

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath as he sits in his guest room, he looks to the other side and tries to keep himself from losing it at the sight of Jiang Cheng’s hastily made bed.

Two days ago Lan Qiren had informed him that they will be holding off on contacting the other sects for the time being, in order to gain a better understanding of what had happened. He doesn’t even want to think about what Yu-furen will do to him when she finds out.

He closes his eyes and counts to ten in his head, he matches his breathing to each second.

He opens his eyes and looks to the table full of his notes strewn across the surface. 

Wei Wuxian knows that he needs to fix this.

He gets up from his bed and heads straight for the library.

(Upon Wei Wuxian’s departure he did not notice the concerned gaze of a certain laoshi who had taken a vested interest in the boy’s well being after the first day since the incident. Wei Wuxian had spent the rest of the day in the library, skipping dinner, not taking any breaks in order to make any kind of progress. Entirely uncaring of his own exhaustion as he continued the same pace the day after.

Later, when it is well past curfew, Lan Qiren finds the boy shaking over several scrolls trying to keep his breath even, as he writes on a separate paper. He finds Wei Wuxian mumbling hysterically to himself, so caught up in his research that he didn’t hear anyone approach him. 

Lan Qiren will admonish the boy at first for breaking yet another rule, but then he’ll notice the unsteadiness of Wei Wuxian’s posture and the way he is hunched in on himself in a way that he never has been in the face of punishment. Lan Qiren will see the bags under his eyes, and the resignation on his face at the sound of punishment.

Lan Qiren will stop in the middle of his recitation of the rules, something he's never done before, and instead he will walk up to Wei Wuxian, place a hand on his shoulder, and guide him back to his room leaving the mess of scrolls and papers behind. He will tell himself that this is the only time he will make an exception.

Later, the man will be told of what really happened that day, why the array and talisman were activated despite not being cleared for testing, and he will go back into his rooms and reflect.

He will reflect, and he will learn.)

Roughly twenty years into the future an older Lan Qiren hears of his grandniece’s return to the Cloud Recesses over tea with his nephews. She had run into a group of people requiring assistance and had sought Sizhui's, and consequently the Lan Sect's, assistance. The group had been displaced by an array that had never been put into practical use before, so Shuilan had elected to help send them back as she has the most experience regarding the subject.

Lan Qiren finds it fitting that despite the strangeness of the situation, his grand niece and nephew offer their help without hesitation. After all they take after only the best of their fathers’ qualities. He only hopes that they will know when to ask for help, so as not to burn themselves out.

He smiles softly into his teacup, thinking of a boy rambling excitedly to another the first time he was allowed to research more unconventional theories, and the concentrated face of a little girl drawing out her first talisman as her older brother explains to her how the mechanics of it work.

So much has changed, and yet not at all.

Chapter Text

The first thought that entered Nie Huaisang’s mind is that the Lan Sect’s enforcement of their percept against lying must have become more lenient over time, because Hanguang-jun is no less terrifying than the Lan Wangji of his time. The teenager, despite being the same age as Nie Huaisang, had never failed to intimidate him with his rigidity and unwavering nature when it comes to staunch devotion to his sect’s principles to, quite frankly, an unreasonable degree. 

In Nie Huasiang’s experience, and due to the amount of time that he has had to spend in the company of Lan disciples, Lan Wangji is the only their age who acts this way. Most of the Lan disciples that Nie Huaisang has met are more similar in nature to that of Lan Sizhui, who is very evidently a model Lan disciple but among other sect disciples had clearly given allowances for less proper, less disciplined behaviours. Quite frankly Nie Huaisang was surprised that a man as unforgiving in nature as Lan Wangji had managed to produce such a son, but perhaps that is a credit to his wife (or maybe even Wei-Xiong considering the closeness between their children). Even Lan Xichen, the heir and future Sect Leader of the Lan is nowhere near as severe in disposition as his younger brother. 

Being stared down by a taller, broader, and equally unyielding Second Jade of Lan, Nie Huaisang vehemently concludes that those Lan Juniors have no idea what they’re talking about. Nie Huaisang shifts behind Lan Xichen hoping to shrink away from Hanguang-jun and his icy glare.

He watches the much older man, yet still youthful due to his strong cultivation, scrutinize their group, his face unmoving as he stares them down before he speaks again.

“Sneaking around is forbidden. What is your business here?”

Part of Nie Huaisang just wants to cry for help in the hopes that Xiao-wei will come outside and save them, or at least explain to the father of her close friend that they aren’t here with ill intent.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen whispers in awe to himself as he looks at this man who his younger brother will become. Paying no mind to the younger brother in question who has more emotion displayed on his face now than the entire time that Nie Huaisang has known him combined. 

Hanguang-jun looks at them. He eyes them suspiciously but his gaze lingers on Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, having clearly recognized the individuals present. 

“Xiongzhang,” Hanguang-jun says, and Lan Xichen must read something in his face that only he can see because his face softens from awe into something warmer and familial as he bows towards him.

“Hanguang-jun,” Lan Xichen begins, because apparently Hanguang-jun had a question but no one but his family could tell because the man has the emotional range of a brick. Nie Huaisang can’t imagine it being fun living in the Lan Sect, but it doesn’t hurt to let loose every once in a while. “If we may explain ourselves, it may be better to call for Wei Shuilan to verify our story.”

Nie Huaisang thinks he sees the most minute of a change of the man’s face at the mention of Wei Shuilan, but that could be the light getting in his eyes. 

“Shuilan?” Hanguang-jun asks, to which the younger Lan Wangji is the one who answers.

“Yes, she was let into the Jingshi by your guest,” Lan Wangji seems to have shaken his initial shock of seeing his future self. Nie Huaisang will admit that he cuts an impressive figure. To the side he sees the way that both Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng try not to flinch under the man’s gaze, but fail to stay completely still. It’s hard not to feel like misbehaving students in Hanguang-jun’s presence. 

Hanguang-jun nods and indicates for them to follow as he walks to the front of his home. 

“Wait here,” he says before stepping into the house. 

The current occupants of the house must have heard the door open as the sound of footsteps grew louder until Wei Shuilan and Mo Xuanyu were in front of the group.

“A-ah, Hanguang-jun,” Shuilan stutters uncharacteristically, as she sees that he isn’t alone, before dropping into a low bow. Hanguang-jun catches her elbows in a motion similar to how she had stopped Mo-gongzi from lowering himself earlier at the door. Once she’s upright Hanguang-jun moves his hands to rest on her shoulders.

“Have you been well?” he asks her in a tone more welcoming than Nie Huaisang would expect from him. He spies the way that Lan Wangji watches the interaction with rapt attention. Interesting.

“Mn,” Shuilan responds with a nod, looking like she wants to say more but not in front of the present company if the way her eye’s keep drifting to them is anything to go by. “Mo-gongzi was keeping me company,” she looked back for a moment before addressing the present situation, “I see you’ve met my companions.”

Hanguang-jun looks to them once again, hands still gently holding Wei Shuilan’s shoulder.

Nie Huaisang can’t help the way his eyes narrow at that. It really does seem that Xichen-ge’s earlier admission that Wei-xiong and Lan Wangji’s families really are close. Perhaps even closer after Wei-Xiong's death considering Wei Shuilan is still young, meaning she was even younger when she lost her father. Nie Huaisang wonders if she'd be open to answering at least some of their questions now that everything is a little more settled. There had been no mention of Wei Shuilan’s mother, so it is more than likely that Hanguang-jun had been the one to step up. Nie Huaisang doesn't enjoy being kept in the dark about things like this. 

Mo Xuanyu stands a step away from the pair, watching them with a look that Nie Huaisang can't quite place. The man looks rather wistful. Nie Huaisang decides to file that information away for later. 

“Hanguang-jun,” Mo Xuanyu calls out playfully, all previous emotion on his face wiped away in favour of a teasing smile, “Should we move aside to let your extra guests in? This doesn’t feel like a conversation to be had on the front porch of your home.”

Hanguang-jun nods. He ushers Shuilan back into the house, she spares them a look before nodding at them and follows Mo Xuanyu further into the house. Hanguang-jun fully turns to them and looks to Lan Xichen. 

Lan Xichen smiles at him and looks to his companions. “Go on in, gongzis.“

The others hesitate for a moment, but under Lan Xichen’s request and Hanguang-jun’s unrelenting stare they make their way into the house. Upon entering they see Shuilan and Mo Xuanyu sitting at a table. Like this, Nie Huaisang is finally able to get a better look at the man. 

The man is dressed in robes of moderate quality, not overly lavish but still noticeably well made, dark in colour barring the inner robes which were a deep crimson. He had a fine face, but something was familiar about him, both in appearance and mannerisms, but Nie Huasisang couldn’t quite place it. The Nie heir watches him and the way he interacts with Shuilan, as she gestures for them to sit down around the table.

Nie Huaisang is sat directly across from Shuilan with Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan on his left and right respectively. Lan Xichen sits at the edge closer to the door leaving Lan Wangji next to Shuilan while Hanguang-jun sits himself at the other end of the table next to Mo Xuanyu. 

He looks at Shuilan expectantly.

Shuilan begins her explanation, detailing the happenings of the night before and what they had learned today before arriving at the Cloud Recesses. She recalled the events aloud to Hanguang-jun, that she had been asked to be involved by the local magistrate who had been contacted by the innkeeper, because these unknown cultivators had shown up unexpectedly and she wanted to make sure that there were no problems to be had given recent events. Those events were not described but Nie Huaisang sees the look of understanding cross Hanguang-jun’s face, so the problems that the towns and villages around that area must be well known.

Nie Huaisang sees in his peripheral the way that Jin Zixuan’s face twitches unpleasantly at the implied remarks about the sects. He had never seen people so wary of cultivators before. The common people often treat cultivators, even weak ones, with a sort of reverence in acknowledgment of their unique abilities gained through spiritual cultivation. His da-ge often a figure that demands respect through his presence alone. Having been met with such open suspicion and caution was something he had not been expecting, but it wasn't something he couldn’t work around, especially considering the fact that Nie Huaisang himself was not someone who would be considered otherworldly enough to warrant such differential treatment. Someone like Jin Zixuan probably isn’t used to being treated without any regard of his position as the only heir of the Jin Sect, especially due to the Jin Sect’s constant display of extravagance in everything they do. 

“After speaking with them it became clear that they had come to the town through rather unconventional methods,” 

“Yes, Sizhui had informed me of his guests when I spoke with him earlier,” Hanguang-jun affirms, “Though he had not provided any details.”

“They had brought us to the Lan Sect in order to provide us with the resources to send us back home,” Lan Xichen repeated the explanation he’d given Zewu-jun for Hanguang-jun. Hanguang-jun’s eye’s narrow ever so slightly at the recollection of events. He looks to Shuilan again to validate the information he's been given. She nods then tilts her head in a silent question that she does not verbalize, but apparently she can communicate telepathically with the man because he begins to speak.

“I do not remember any incident of this nature during the guest lectures.”

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang deflates, not realizing that he was also holding out hope that they’d be able to handle this quickly.

Shuilan hummed in response, “Zewu-jun said the same thing when we spoke to him earlier.”

“You were with Xiongzhang?” Hanguang-jun asked with the slightest quirk of his brow.

“Yes, he wanted to speak with Sizhui and me.”

For some reason Hanguang-jun did not seem happy about that. He seemed to be scanning her person for any signs of harm the same way a parent would after hearing of their child running into people they shouldn’t have. Mo Xuanyu looks intently at him trying to read his face, and shifts to sit closer to Hanguang-jun who doesn’t shy away from the movement. Had Nie Huaisang been less preoccupied by Hanguang-jun’s hostility towards his own brother he would have thought to question it more. But he notices the way that Lan Xichen also furrows his brows at the reaction and focuses on that instead.

So she’s close with Lan Wangji’s future self, but not with Xichen-ge’s. Nie Huaisang had been watching Wei-xiong form relationships with various members of the Lan Sect, from the servants who were unofficially in charge of cleaning up after him in the library when he’s in a rush to get to his new lessons, to the scholars that he had begun to collaborate with for his inventions. Lan Xichen had happily offered his own assistance for Wei-xiong’s various projects and it had looked like the two were on the way to a rather close friendship. Either they had a falling out of some sort or Wei Shuilan was the one who had problems with Zewu-jun. Nie Huaisang doesn’t know which is more likely. To him Wei Shuilan seemed like a rather agreeable person who had been caught off guard by an unexpected situation, but on the other hand it would also seem that her behaviour is incredibly dependent on who she is in the company of. With an inconspicuous glance to the two other boys beside him, Nie Huaisang safely concludes that her issues with the Jiang and the Jin Sects are quite personal, and that she must be doing her best to reign it in for the sake of assisting them.

Jiang Cheng fists clench at his side as he lets out a huff. He frowns down at his lap and misses the look that Lan Wangji gives him. The movement catches the attention of Hanguang-jun. When his eyes land on his younger counterpart the boy tenses but doesn’t look away. He does not speak to him, but Lan Wangji seems to see something on his face, something that has him tensing up and looking even more uncomfortable than he had already been.

“Wei Ying was not sent forward with you,” Hanguang-jun states plainly.

“No, he was left in the library.” but we don’t know why, was left unsaid.

“Wei Ying was always careful with his work, I fail to see how this could have happened,” Hanguang-jun says, and though he doesn’t phrase it as an accusation, it still feels that way. 

The young masters try to avoid looking at Jiang Cheng, except for Jin Zixuan who outright glares at the Jiang heir. 

“You may want to direct that question towards Jiang-gongzi,” he says.

Jiang Cheng stays silent, but his anger is plain on his face. He is very obviously trying to stamp his temper, not finding it worth it to continue this argument when he knows that he cannot win. An uncomfortable truth for him it seems, even Nie Huaisng can’t defend him. The last two days have really been draining on Nie Huaisang as he has been deigned the unofficial arbitrator between these two troublesome young masters.

Nie Huaisang is content to just watch the trainwreck play out, confident that Hanguang-jun’s presence can keep it from going too far, to curb any actual intents to harm, but it’s unlikely for his Lan companions to follow suit. As evidenced by Lan Xichen jumping in to avoid any further altercations. Lan Xichen should really let others exercise some self control on their own every once in a while, they’re not children they can do it.

He sees the way that Shuilan looks at this display with an unimpressed visage, Mo Xuanyu has an inquisitive glint in his eye, while Hanguang-jun is exactly as Nie Huaisang had expected him to be. The man simply nods at his brother’s explanations, a quick retelling of an accident in overly simplified terms that avoid assigning blame onto anyone specific. 

“Will you be starting your research tomorrow?” Hanguang-jun directs the question to Shuilan who nods in response.

“I don’t see any reason to delay,” Shuilan shrugs.

“Mn,” he nods, to them he says, “There will be an announcement tomorrow at breakfast informing the rest of the sect of who you are and what will be happening, so there will be no need to sneak around.”

They take it for the warning that it is.

“This is quite the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, gongzis,” Mo Xuanyu says lightly, watching everyone with a smile. “Wei-guniang will certainly have her hands full for some time.”

Jin Zixuan squints at the man, likely trying place where they’ve seen him before. Perhaps, like Nie Huaisang, he can’t shake the feeling of familiarity.

Mo Xuanyu looks at Shuilan with such fondness one would think they’d have known each other for longer than a shichen.

Shuilan returns his smile with a soft look, “With everyone’s help hopefully we will figure it out quickly.”

Mo Xuanyu pats her on the shoulder as he turns to look back to Hanguang-jun, but in doing so he catches the eye of the Jin Sect heir sitting across from him. It’s quick enough to brush off, but Nie Huaisang catches the way he avoids Jin Zixuan’s suspicious eyes.

Oh, Nie Huaisang thinks as he looks at the two across from each other. Mo Xuanyu looks like Jin Zixuan.

Hanguang-jun’s guest is one of the Jin Sect’s illegitimate children.

Still, Nie Huaisang can’t shake the feeling that there is more to it.

“Hanguang-jun, it’s nearly curfew,” Mo Xuanyu draws out the man’s title playfully, “Perhaps these young masters should make their way back to the guest quarters.”

Nie Huaisang looks out the nearest window. The sun has gone lower into the sky and he feels the exhaustion of the last day and a half begin to set in.

“I’m sure Zewu-jun had instructed for your meals to be delivered to your rooms,” Shuilan says to them.

“Ah,” Lan Xichen says sheepishly, “We really should be going then.”

As if on cue, there is a knock on the door. 

Hanguang-jun stands to go answer it.

“A-die,” the smooth voice of Lan Sizhui is heard from the table, “I’m sorry to disturb you but it appears that my guests have disappeared from their rooms. Have you noticed anything by any chance?”

“Mn.”

Lan Sizhui is led into the house.

When he sees them at the table Nie Huaisang swears they see him sigh, but they don’t actually hear anything so he might just be imagining things. Next to his father, Lan Sizhui stands tall but looks relaxed in what is presumably his childhood home.

“Mo-gongzi, it’s good to see you,” he says politely to the man in black robes.

Mo Xuanyu's smile widens at him, “You as well Lan-gongzi, I was just getting to know your sister over here.”

What?

“What?” Nie Huaisang drops his fan as the rest of the group stares at the man and his casual reveal.

Lan Wangji’s head whips to Hanguang-jun who looks at Mo Xuanyu in exasperation, though lacking the usual coldness that accompanies it.

Lan Sizhui is in what seems like mild panic but it’s always so hard to tell with Lans.

“... I don’t think I told you that, Mo-gongzi,” Lan Sizhui says a bit off kilter.

“Well no, but it’s pretty easy to piece together,” Mo Xuanyu laughs, “Who else would show up unannounced at the home of the peerless Hanguang-jun.”

Mo Xuanyu looks so pleased when he looks at the two siblings? Probably siblings, no one’s denied it. Actually Wei Shuilan looks entirely too calm about this. 

She sips at the tea that everyone else had left alone, “It’s alright gege, there’s no harm in them knowing now that we know that the timelines are different.”

Lan Sizhui relaxes at that. 

The rest of them gear up to launch questions at the pair, and possibly Hanguang-jun, but the man speaks, cutting them all off. 

“It is nearing curfew, return to your rooms,” his voice left no room for argument.

The displaced young masters reluctantly nodded in assent and stood to leave. 

“You can ask your questions tomorrow,” Shuilan consoles them.

Oh, Nie Huaisang was planning on it.

“I will walk you to the guest quarters, gongzis,” Lan Sizhui says politely.

Before they all walk out the door Hanguang-jun calls out again, “Sizhui, will you be staying the night?”

Lan Sizhui smiles, and once again Nie Huaisang is thrown off by the fact that Lan Wangji’s future child is so much freer in his expression of emotions. “Not tonight, a-die, Jingyi needs someone to commiserate with about today,” he jokes.

Hanguang-jun huffs out what could be laugh, “Do not stay up too late. We will see you at breakfast,” he then turns to Shuilan, “Your room is free for you to use.”

“Thank you, a-die,” she smiles at him, uncaring of the blatant staring of their audience, “I’d like to speak more with Mo-gongzi, his insights on non-conventional talismans have caught my attention.”

Mo Xuanyu chuckles softly at that as he looks at her with warm eyes, “This one is happy to oblige, guniang.”

“Please follow me, gongzis,” Lan Sizhui instructs them.

The walk back is quiet at first, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t seem to wait for tomorrow to get answers. 

“Is she really your sister?” he demands from Lan Sizhui, who offers him a placid smile before answering. “Did Hanguang-jun really adopt her after Wei Wuxian died?”

“Yes she is,” he says without hesitation, “She has been for as long as I can remember, even before Hanguang-jun took her in.” took us in, Sizhui says in his head.

“I can’t believe I was right,” whispers Nie Huaisang.

Jiang Cheng looks even more aggrieved at this. Nie Huaisang shuffles a bit further away from him and closer to Lan Sizhui to ask more questions. The other boy tenses up at the question of both his and Wei Shuilan’s mothers.

“I’d rather not answer that, I don’t know what Shuilan would be comfortable sharing with you,” Lan Sizhui says resolutely, and Nie Huaisang decides to leave that alone as it isn’t uncommon for people to lose their mother’s quite early on. 

The rest of the walk is had in silence. Lan Sizhui bids them goodnight and they make their way to their rooms. They all go to their separate rooms to ruminate on their own. 

Nie Huaisang finds his appetite satiated, not even the bland dinner the servants had left in his room brings down his mood.

Wei Wuxian smiles widely as Shuilan explains to him the details of the projects that she had taken up in order to find ways to improve the towns and villages near the Burial mounds. Wei Wuxian finds himself holding back tears as she speaks about the issues regarding the land in those areas and how much of it has been rendered unusable due to the higher concentrations of resentful energy. She had found a way to extract the energy from the land and redirect it back further into the Burial Mounds, so instead of it settling into the land that people require for farming or building homes, it continues to move but within a tighter, more controlled vacuum. Of course that creates another issue of the resulting energy becoming much denser in concentration over a smaller area but so far it seems that as long as the energy has somewhere to go, in the artificial pathways for it to follow, the resentful energy doesn’t seem to want to seep out of the new border.

Hanguang-jun watched as the love of his life listened intently to their daughter, offering his own insights and pointing out the weak spots in her projects and plans. He quietly observed them as he tidied around the room, finishing his own paperwork for the day. He said nothing as he watched every time Wei Wuxian reached a hand out to touch her before thinking better of it and pulling back. If Shuilan noticed she kept it to herself. The two rambled on contently well into the night when Shuilan then excused herself to get ready for bed. Wei Wuxian waved her off and told her to sleep well, and that he would clean up their mess because the two of them had begun writing on the talisman papers that Hanguang-jun had stacked on his shelf. 

Shuilan had thanked him and bid him goodnight, then walked over to her other father to hug him. Once she had gone to her room, the room that Lan Wangji had maintained in the three years since she had left home, Wei Wuxian stood up and began to stack their papers on top of each other and set them aside so he could clean the brushes next. Hanguang-jun waited patiently for Wei Wuxian to finish organizing the contents on the table, his fingers softly tracing the elegant strokes of Shuilan’s handwriting. He placed the paper onto the desk and placed the brushes and inkstone next to them.

Hanguang-jun walked over to him and carefully pulled his beloved into his arms as soft sobs wracked through him. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered to him in tears, “That was our daughter.”

“Mn.” He pulled his love in closer and just as softly responded, “And our son will have breakfast with us tomorrow.”

Wei Wuxian cried harder, but no louder as he rubbed his wet face onto Hanguang-jun’s pristine robes.

Lan Wangji held him tightly and rubbed his cheek against the top of his head. 

“Wei Ying,” he soothed, the person in his arms warm and real, proof that his soulmate had come back to him, “Wei Ying will still be here tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Wuxian, you can’t ignore this.”

“What the sects choose to believe is no longer my concern.”

“Wuxian! How long will you continue with this? I can't defend you anymore!” 

“Then don't defend me! You go over there, and you stand with those who wish to see me fall, and you will do it with your head held high and your eyes wide open, but it will be your choice. Remember that Lan Zongzhu, it is your choice .”

“...You truly wish to walk this path alone.”

“I’m not alone. You’re the one who chooses not to see them.”

Zewu-jun woke to the unpleasant memories that have laid dormant in his mind until now. The return of his niece bringing them forward, and making them an unavoidable sequence of thoughts in his head. 

The Lan Sect leader was a man many would refer to as kind and just. A true credit to the Lan Sect to have brought up such a man to lead them. In the years after the Sunshot Campaign Lan Xichen had essentially broken his back rebuilding his sect while trying to maintain political relations with the remaining major sects. On the surface it was deceptively easy to accomplish through his brotherhood with the Nie and Jin Sects, and his friendship and working relationship with the Jiang Sect through their Head Disciple Wei Wuxian. A relationship that quickly deteriorated with the defection of the demonic cultivator, effectively isolating the Jiang Sect from the other sects as they tried their damndest to separate themselves from a man set to ruin himself. After the Siege of the Burial Mounds, Lan Xichen had felt nothing but disappointment for a long time, comforted by his sworn brothers who he could not fully confide in out of respect for his secluded younger brother. 

Wangji had been heartbroken by the news, but was evidently more worried about the children that had resided in the Burial Mounds with the Wen Remnants, rushing out, still debilitatingly injured, and coming back with two young children, one of which was running a terrible fever. Lan Xichen didn’t know what to do, and he feels as out of his depth now in the present as he did back then. 

If there was one thing Lan Xichen did ultimately agree with was that there was no use living in the past. In telling these young masters what the future had in store for them, it would only serve to establish potential hostility towards a younger, unsuspecting Wei Wuxian who had yet to commit any of the crimes that his future self had collected to his name.

If time is still flowing naturally in their timeline, then A-xian is probably losing his mind trying to get them back already, Lan Xichen thinks wryly. 

Wei Wuxian was a close friend even if the memories of him are now tainted, and he does not want the blameless younger version of his old friend to be punished for wrongs he has yet to do. In his darkest hours, Lan Xichen will admit that he misses him and allows himself to remember what it was like before. Before the war, before the Yiling Laozu, before a heart so righteous and good had changed so irreversibly and caused so many people to hurt. Had caused Lan Xichen’s brother to be hurt. 

After Yunmeng Jiang had cut all ties to Wei Wuxian, and had declared him an enemy to the cultivation world, Lan Xichen had visited him on his own, with Wangji being banned from seeking the other man out. Lan Xichen  had pleaded with the man to give them up, there was no outcome where the remaining Wens could be saved. It didn’t matter that they were non-combatants, politically the other sects could not let them live in peace. They were seen as a threat, not only because they were Wens, but because their situation had fully cemented into the minds of the cultivation world just how much power Wei Wuxian could have.

Wei Wuxian would not give in to the sects, he would not give up the Wen Remnants. There would be no compromise.

And to bend to the will of a man they perceived as beneath them would be nothing but a show of weakness. 

The Sects did not want to be seen as weak.

There was no compromise, and his niece and nephew grew up missing a parent that they never really had the chance to know.

Children who grew up hearing the horror stories of their father, who weren’t given the grace to mourn. 

Children who had to learn to navigate a world that spat on their father’s memory, and celebrated the death of their family.

They were both too young, Sizhui only remembering vague memories from back then, and relying on the stories that Wangji would tell them of their late father and even fewer of the Wens.

Shuilan remembers far more. Lan Xichen doesn’t understand how, but Shuilan remembers more and has never forgiven the world for it.

Lan Sizhui, the last surviving Wen, and Lan Shuilan, Wei Wuxian’s bastard child. The Lan main family’s best kept secrets, hidden in plain sight.

Until Shuilan changed her name, until she decided she no longer wanted to be hidden.

Xiongzhang, I respect you as both my elder brother and sect leader, but you have no right to speak to my children about Wei Ying in this manner.

Lan Xichen remembers clearly his brother’s words to him, the day before he gave Shuilan permission to leave the sect, and the words he said just the day before hearing of Shuilan’s return with Jingyi and Sizhui. The unspoken warning in it. 

I hope she will find her first visit back a pleasant one.

Lan Xichen never thought he'd feel so conflicted about something as simple as a family breakfast. He's frustrated. With Shuilan, with Wangji, with himself. His heart has never felt so heavy. He just wants what's best for his family. He wants to move on, he believed he already had, but the places in their lives that have been touched by Wei Wuxian can never be untouched, forever haunted by the memories. And when he thought that they were finally moving forward he found the past staring back at him and laughing at his naivete. His own eyes staring back at him unknowing of what's yet to come, and Lan Xichen thinks that perhaps he'll never be free from the shackles of memories. 

Lan Xichen blinks away the blurriness in his eyes and gets out of bed.

Wei Wuxian sits in the Jingshi with Lan Zhan to his left, his children on the right side of the table, with Zewu-jun on the left facing them. They wait patiently for Grandmaster Lan to arrive so that they may head to the dining pavilion for breakfast. 

Wei Wuxian has never been more nervous in his life. 

It’s one meal, he thinks while subtly trying to even his breathing, you’ve sat through much worse before.

When Wei Wuxian had seen his children the night before he had been so happy, so proud, and so relieved . He’d thought they hadn’t survived but Lan Zhan had always managed to subvert his expectations. Learning that his Lan Zhan had searched for them among the destruction that had been wrought upon the Burial Mounds had sent Wei Wuxian into a fit of hysterics, as well as the fact that the man had been grievously injured. It caused the familiar feelings of anger and loathing to boil to the surface as he retreated into himself before Lan Zhan had reassured and reminded him that those actions had saved their children. 

They had talked earlier about how they would break the news to them, that no, their father hadn’t just decided to bring a random man home (though he would still have felt enough compassion towards such an ill treated to person to at least offer some assistance) and that the lunatic Mo Xuanyu was actually their long dead baba forcibly brought back to life. How to go about that conversation without them fearing for their A-die’s sanity. The plan was to tell them after breakfast in private, and while Wei Wuxian is used to jumping into things in order to get them out of the way, this was something he could not bear to fuck up. If they don't believe him, or are upset by the news he doesn't know what he’ll do to himself.  

There is conversation happening around him but it sounds muffled to him as his nerves begin to get the better of him. He excuses himself, pointedly not looking at the concerned gaze of the people around him but aims what he hopes is a reassuring smile at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan moves to stand with him but is stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder and a shake of Wei Wuxian’s head. 

“I’m feeling a bit stuffy, I’d like some fresh air.”

This time no one stops him as he leaves.

Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan stare after him with confused faces. The both of them stop and wonder why there is something familiar about him. 

Wei Shuilan brings a hand to her chest and feels her qi run through her core, using the feeling to help her focus her thoughts as she thinks of where she might have met the man before that makes Mo Xuanyu’s feel so achingly familiar.

They look to their father with searching eyes. 

“Should one of us go after him?” Lan Sizhui questioned with unmasked concern, “He didn’t look okay.”

Shuilan nods in agreement, but Lan Wangji makes a noise of disagreement. 

“He needs to be alone right now,” met with the puzzled expressions of his children he continues, “He is going through a lot of change right now, he needs time to process it for himself.”

Both of his children seem to deflate at that. Lan Sizhui in particular felt disheartened as he didn’t notice the man’s agitation until now. Lan Sizhui had been the first to show up for breakfast, arriving before Wei Shuilan had even woken up. Mo Xuanyu had greeted him at the door and allowed him inside. 

(Wei Wuxian had been up early due to his excitement at seeing his son, which had then fizzled out into nervousness.)

The conversation had been nice. Mo Xuanyu clearly wasn’t the lunatic he had presented himself as at Mo Manor and the man got along well with his sister. He was still a little eccentric but Lan Sizhui had decided that he liked him. After all there was no harm in getting along with the man if his father had determined that he would stay here for as long as he wanted.

“I hope he comes back soon, at least to eat something…”

Throughout this whole exchange Lan Xichen had been carefully watching his brother, noting that there was something he and Mo Xuanyu were keeping from them.

Outside of the Jingshi Wei Wuxian made his way towards the outer edges of the Cloud Recesses. This more remote area of the Lan Sect was quite isolated, and this early into the morning there would be no reason for anyone to be here. Blocked off by the rolling hills and towering trees, Wei Wuxian was hidden beneath the horizon.

Wei Wuxian pulled a flute from his sleeve. The plain bamboo flute wasn’t chenqing, no his spiritual weapon was being kept somewhere at Lotus Pier taken by Jiang Cheng as his trophy for leading the siege against the Burial Mounds, locked away to ensure that no one could be tempted by its power. He had spent the better part of a day convincing Lan Zhan that he didn’t need to retrieve it for him and cause unnecessary suspicion, and how the man even thought he could accomplish that was beyond the comprehension of Wei Wuxian. This flute was a gift from Lan Zhan, or perhaps an apology for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to use his own spiritual weapon for the foreseeable future, but Wei Wuxian was glad that at least both of his weapons were safe. The fact that his sword was being carried so proudly by his daughter was enough for him. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t need chenqing right now, and this replacement flute would suffice. Lifting the instrument to his pursed lips he played a steady tune to call for his friend.

Wen Ning, I’m here.

The sound of shackles clanging alerted him to the fierce corpe’s arrival. 

“Wei-Gongzi,” Wen Ning said deferentially with his head lowered. 

Wei Wuxian huffed, “No matter how many times I tell you otherwise, you still bow to me.”

“Apologies, Wei-gongzi,” the fierce corpse responded sheepishly lifting his head, “force of habit.”

At least he didn’t kowtow this time, Wei Wuxian smiled at his friend, feeling calmer than he had all morning. 

“I have far too much to tell you, Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian chuckled as he swung an arm around the now taller Wen Ning, “Too much has happened in the last two days.”

With his and Lan Zhan’s arrival to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian had informed Lan Wangji that he needed to speak with Wen Ning. There was something wrong with him, and upon closer inspection they found nails imbedded into his skull along with the shackles bound on his wrists. Using Bichen Lan Zhan had swiftly rid Wen Ning of the shackles while Wei Wuxian removed the nails hindering his friend’s ability to act for himself. 

He tells Wen Ning of the children, and had the fierce corpse been able to, he would have wept. Wei Wuxian spoke of what it was like to see them, to speak with them, how clever they both grew up to be, and how kind they had been in their interactions with a supposed maniac cutsleeve. 

“Given who their father is, that isn’t much of a surprise,” Wen Ning murmured with the smallest of smiles his face would allow him. 

Wei Wuxian smiles widely enough for the both of them, “Yeah, Lan Zhan is pretty great.”

“I meant you, gongzi,” Wen Ning spoke firmly. 

Wei Wuxian scoffed, “I’m just glad no one knows they’re my kids.” The man slumps down onto the grass dragging Wen Ning to sit with him. Once they’re both on the ground Wei Wuxian lays back onto the soft field and makes himself comfortable. “She goes by Wei instead of Lan now. She wasn't really seen in public all that much before she defected, so no one’s connected her to me or the fact that common people’s new hero who's been going around and purifying the Burial Mounds and being pulled into fights with sect cultivators is the Lan Sect’s former xiaojie,” he laughs so that he doesn't cry, “Lan Zhan told me it was her way of honouring me. And A-yuan,” he chokes up as he recalls, “A-yuan built me a memorial tablet that they keep in a little corner of the Jingshi,” Wei Wuxian sniffles a bit and wipes away the dampness in his eyes, “Our kids are so good, Wen Ning.”

The memorial tablet was one of the first things that Lan Zhan had shown him when he brought him back to the jingshi. He was told that A-yuan didn’t remember a whole lot from his time in the Burial Mounds, a good thing in Wei Wuxian’s opinion, but he remembered having a family that took turns taking care of him, and a father that did his absolute damndest to raise him and his sister. It was funny, because until Shuilan had entered their lives the thought that he could be a father to the boy didn’t even cross his mind. A-yuan had a family, a family who loved him and took care of him, and Wei Wuxian was just Xian-gege. 

And then Shuilan happened. 

Shuilan was an accident, and one of the best things that had ever happened to him during the darkest periods of his life. Wei Wuxian would never forget the moment that she called him ‘Baba’, and later how A-yuan, with all the logic and reasoning skills of a five year old, had decided that if Xian-gege was now Shuilan’s baba then he was A-yuan’s baba, too. 

“Mn, we all did our best in the Burial Mounds,” Wen Ning said pensively, “but knowing they had a home after everything that happened really makes it worth it.”

“I have a lot of regrets in that life, but saving your family was never one of them,” Wei Wuxian stated resolutely. “Your family deserved to live.”

The two friends look at each other for a while before going back to gazing at the sky. 

Wei Wuxian shot back up once he remembered the absurdity of yesterday evening’s happenings. 

“I almost forgot!” the absolute glee on his face almost makes Wen Ning concerned, “I invented time travel!”

“...What?”

“Yesterday when Shuilan came the Jingshi she was being followed by this group of young masters. It was so funny actually, she knew they were following her but couldn’t be bothered to deal with them, ha!” Wei Wuxian cackles at the memory, “Anyways! They got caught by Lan Zhan because they were loitering outside his house, and when he brought them inside to question them they said they were from the past, and they were sent to the future by an array that I was working on! How wild is that?”

“And they’re telling the truth?” Wen Ning can’t help but be skeptical not having seen the group himself.

“Yeah, I believe them,” Wei Wuxian then becomes more somber, all traces of humour gone, “Jin Zixuan was with them.”

Wen Ning’s eyes snap to his friend. He knows that he wouldn’t joke about something like that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

The two let the quiet wash over them for a moment. Wen Ning wants to apologize again but knows that Wei Wuxian won’t have any of it, so he keeps it to himself. The quiet continues, but Wei Wuxian feels he has been gone for too long at this point and that he needs to go back and stop running away. 

“I should head back now,” Wei Wuxian sighs. “I can’t put this off for too long.”

Wen Ning nods to him. “Everything will be alright, Wei-gongzi.”

Wei Wuxian smiles again at his friend, “I’ll come see you again soon so we can figure out some more comfortable lodgings for you. For now stay hidden.”

Wen Ning regards him for a moment before reaching up a hand placing it on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder to offer a comforting squeeze. With that the fierce corpse makes for the trees to hide in. 

Wei Wuxian watches him go, and then makes his way back to the Jingshi.

Lan Wangji sits in meditation as he thinks about what should be done for the day. 

Sect Leader Lan, guessing correctly that the two boys would be awake much earlier than they needed to be, and being up at a much earlier time himself, had come to his and his brother’s room to inform them of what the announcement during breakfast will contain, who they are and what has happened. They had decided that it would be best to tell the truth so that they do not have to hide their identities and so that the rest of the sect need not speculate about them and cause unsavoury misunderstandings. The Lan Sect may not allow gossip, but it is not above making incorrect conclusions. With everyone knowing who they are, it also makes it easier for them to ask help without needing to hide anything. 

Sect Leader Lan then told them that they would be welcome to have breakfast in the dining pavilion or to have their meal in their room in order to avoid the curious eyes of the rest of the disciples, especially the junior disciples who would happily sneak some glances at the younger versions of their Hanguang-jun and Sect leader.

The two brothers decided that though they would both prefer not to be gawked at, it would serve their story well to confirm their identities and have breakfast at the dining hall. 

“Do you have anything in particular that you want to ask Lan Sizhui later?” his brother questions as they walk out of the building.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji pondered. He doesn’t know what his future son could tell him that wouldn’t upset him. He doesn’t want to learn of his future spouse, and what happened to them, but at least he seems to have a good relationship with Sizhui. It would hurt even more if he learned that he was the same kind of neglectful parent that his father was to him and his brother. 

“Is that Mo-gongzi?” Lan Xichen interrupts his brother’s thoughts at the familiar sight of the man they had met the night before.

Lan Wangji looks to where his brother is facing and confirms for himself that yes, it is Mo-gongzi.

“It’s interesting that Hanguang-jun is letting him stay with him in the Jingshi.”

Wangji feels uncomfortable about that. The thought of anyone sharing his personal space with him makes him shiver.

“Good morning, Mo-gongzi,” Xiongzhang greets the man who was likely on his way to the dining pavilion himself. 

“Ah,” Mo Xuanyu had an inscrutable look on his face, “Good morning, Lan-gongzi, Lan-er-gongzi,” he bows to the both of them. “I was just on my way to meet Hanguang-jun and his family at the dining pavilion.”

Wangji narrows his eyes at the man. From what he’d heard, Hanguang-jun and he had never met before, so what’s so special about this man that would make his future self act in a way so foreign to Wangji. Had he really changed so much?

“We were just headed there ourselves,” Xiongzhang says, “perhaps we may join you?”

Mo Xuanyu merely smiles and nods. 

They walk in mostly silence as the polite niceties die down between his brother and Mo Xuanyu. He seems to be uncomfortable speaking to Lan Xichen and completely avoids looking at Wangji without being impolite. It is uncomfortable and Wangji is glad to see his future self and the rest of his family waiting at the entrance of the dining pavilion. 

Mo Xuanyu, after bowing to everyone, walks straight to Hanguang-jun’s side. 

“Are you all right?” Hanguang-jun asks concern seeping through.

Mo Xuanyu smiles up at him and nods, but doesn’t speak. 

Wangji looks away feeling as though he were intruding.

Instead he turns his attention to his supposed children who were calmly watching their father pay all his attention to someone who is essentially a stranger to them. Rather than the wariness he had been expecting, there was nothing but open acceptance in their body language and expressions. 

Shuilan was the first to greet them. 

“Lan-da-gongzi, Lan-er-gongzi,” she bows to them, and Wangji notices for the first time a bamboo dizi strapped to her hip next to her sword. 

Wei Ying’s sword, Lan Wangji’s mind adds needlessly.

She must practice musical cultivation, it’d be stranger if she didn’t as a member of the main family. He wonders what instrument Lan Sizhui plays. 

Said disciple smiles and bows to them as well before stepping aside so that Zewu-jun may step forward and speak to them. 

And next to him was Shufu. 

“Wangji, Xichen,” this future version of their uncle says to them, “It really is you.”

Shufu is older, though the beard now fits his image better, no longer serving to age him in order to gain respect from his students, than the Shufu from his time. His appearance had not changed much due to his cultivation but Wangji can still see the difference. More notably this Shufu appears calmer, less burdened than the one that Wangji is used to. His eyes feel gentler as the older man seems to take in the image of Wangji and Xichen. He nods, satisfied with whatever he was looking for.

“We should enter now so that Xichen may make the announcements for today.”

They all make their way into the dining hall through the entrance typically reserved for elders and the main family, and sit at the designated tables. 

Wangji entered last with his brother and can feel the moment that the rest of the hall noticed them. If they were any other sect, whispers would have broken out, but they are Lans and instead the disciples simply watch them curiously. Once everyone is sat down, Zewu-jun rises and calls for everyone’s attention. 

He gestures to Wangji and Xichen as he explains that there had been a predicament that had landed his and Hanguang-jun’s younger self twenty years into the future, along with three other young masters who were present at that years Disciple Exchange. They were brought over by their sect heir, Lan Sizhui, and will be assisted by Wei Shuilan who has returned to the sect for the time being. 

Many disciples continue to gawk silently at him and his brother, but several have also shifted their interest to Wei Shuilan, who apparently is of equal interest to the sect. Several elders who were present look at her disdainfully, but a single look from Hanguang-jun is enough to keep them silent. Wangji feels a hand on his back and worldlessly thanks his brother. He didn’t even notice how tense he’d gotten under the scrutiny.

Zewu-jun finishes his announcements, ending on a nighthunt that will take a portion of the sect’s senior disciples sway for the time being. 

They all begin to eat, and eventually the stares lessen and Wangji feels the tension in his body leave him.

He focuses on eating but can’t help but glance towards Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan. The latter clearly not enjoying the meal and Wangji remembers the red and orange hues that coloured their food at the inn, he wonders if she can stomach this food at all. She eats little, and her face is blank even when Hanguang-jun places a hand on her shoulder while he eats his own meal. 

She finishes first and stands to bow before making her way out. Heads turn and follow her as she leaves the hall, not just from her table but many other disciples trying to surreptitiously sneak a look her way. Wangji thinks that he hears someone sigh softly, still, no one speaks.

Soon Wangji, Xichen, and Sizhui finish their meals and bow to their seniors before making their own exit. Followed by Lan Jingy who had been eating his breakfast at a table away from them with his and Sizhui’s cohort.

“We should see if the others are awake now,” Sizhui suggests.

“Will we be meeting Shuilan somewhere else,” Lan Xichen asks, “Do you know where she went?”

Wangji thinks that she should have waited for them, but understands why she left earlier. No one enjoys being gawked at like an exotic animal. 

“She’ll be in the library trying to make a dent in our current problem,” Jingyi answers, “We should wake the others soon so everyone knows what we’re doing.”

And with that they head back to the guest quarters to make sure that the other three get a chance to eat before spending the rest of the day entrenched in research.

The Lan Sect’s library is truly one of the most impressive things about the sect. The irony of the strictest, most unyielding sect in regards to how their denizens should think and conduct themselves having the greatest variety of texts will never be lost on Wei Shuilan. 

So many different scrolls and books about philosophy, culture, and their own documentation of the romantic history of the Lan, especially their founder abandoning monkhood for love, but still expecting their disciples to live, breathe, and swear by rules literally set in stone. 

Shuilan goes forward and kneels down at a table and pulls out several parchments from her sleeve. The copy of the array that Lan Xichen had drawn out, and the potential talisman designs that may have been used. She writes out different functions that the talisman could have used. If it was simply to counter the array, the character for time would obviously have to be used, but which radicals would accompany it? Talismans have always been a difficult subject to work with as they don’t quite work the way one would think. SImply writing down characters is not the way to invent a new talisman, otherwise scholars would not be dedicating their lives to the craft. Talismans are tricky because they don’t necessarily work with simple words. Pictographic characters have different effects from indicative characters, different radicals change the function of a talisman without changing the base character that is used, and balancing the effect of a talisman also depends on the energy source that one would use to activate it. Spiritual energy versus resentful energy versus something else entirely like animal blood. 

Spiritual energy would probably be best considering that is likely what was used to power the array and talisman considering her father likely hasn’t been fucking around with resentful energy at that age and in a public place no less, but it may be more effective to try using more ambient energy rather than pure spiritual energy as it would be less draining to use. It would also be better to test it out by sending a letter back to the past so that they can collaborate with whatever information the younger version of her father has been able to find on his end.

The sound of footsteps approaching takes her out of her head as she realizes that she is no longer alone.

She sees Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen take in the sight of the library, trying to catch the differences in what their library looks like. The appearance of the library should be almost the exact same as it was in their time, rebuilt with money donated to them by the Jin Sect’s current sect leader. The only differences being that this library is less lived in, less worn from years of use, and the content lost to flames during the burning of Cloud Recesses. 

The rest of the group makes their way to her and they all take turns passing around some of the notes that she had compiled earlier based on what they already worked out at her house the day before. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had moved closer to get a look at the papers.

“How should we divide the work?” she asks them.

The heirs glance at each other before answering. Unsurprisingly Lan Xichen decides to take charge.

“Splitting up into smaller groups is probably the best way to approach this,” Lan Xichen said, “It will be faster if we have one group in the forbidden section looking for the book containing the array while the others look amongst the texts here for anything that may be useful in terms of time travel.”

Shuilan nodded at them and looked to her brother and former senior brother for their approval. Everyone seemed to be in agreement. 

“So who wants to go to the restricted section with Lan-gongzi and Nie-gongzi?” Shuilan had her arms crossed as she watched the young masters shuffle amongst themselves. Lan Xichen startled at already being assigned a group. “It makes the most sense if Lan-gongzi is the one to lead that group considering that he’s the one who has actually seen the text.”

“Ah,” Lan Xichen makes a sound of understanding, “It would probably be best if Wangji and another Lan disciple went with us as they would be more familiar with the contents of the Restricted Section.”

“Sizhui’s the best option for that then,” Lan Jingyi discloses, “Between the two of us he’s been down there more often.”

Sizhui looks to his friend and tries to communicate with his eyes alone, “Are we sure that’s the best course of action?”

Shuilan watches her brother who, with all the subtlety of someone who was raised to never be deceitful, meaning none at all, tries to get Jingyi to swap groups with him. Shuilan doesn’t laugh but it is a near thing, because she knows that he’s just worried about leaving her with Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan, and Jingyi isn’t known for his ability to gracefully handle disagreements. Perhaps she should suggest that she be the one to accompany them down to the Restricted Section, but one look towards the Nie heir has her changing her mind.

Sorry, gege, she thinks as she offers him a reassuring look.

“Alright, so the four of you,” Shuilan gestures to the newly formed group, “will handle that while we-,” she hooks her arm around Jingyi to pull him closer to the others, “-will handle looking for anything useful up here.”

Sizhui looks torn but has no real reason to object, lest he risk offending the two young masters.

Lan Wangji looks at his future son and frowns slightly, Shuilan sees the way he clenches his hand at his side next to his sword, a habit her father never really grew out of. Lan Wangji wants to speak to him but has no idea how to go about it. 

Before they split up Lan Xichen goes to speak with Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan while Nie Huaisang makes conversation with Lan Jingyi, who enthusiastically gives the other boy all the information he wants on his friends. Shuilan and Sizhui will have to talk to him about that later, but for now Shuilan pulls her brother aside.

“Gege you should use this as a chance to speak to A-die,” she states plainly.

Lan Sizhui tries to fight his grimace, “I’m not sure that’s the best idea, he didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of having a son.” If he were any less Lan the boy would be pouting. 

Shuilan levels an unimpressed look at him, “Because he thinks you were the product of an arranged marriage or something.”

Sizhui flinches at that. 

“We’ve already decided that we don’t need to hide so much from them,” Shuilan grabs at his sleeve and shakes it lightly, “You can’t tell him everything but you can at least tell him you’re also adopted, it would probably make him less uncomfortable around us.”

Sizhui allows her to mess with his sleeve, long and flowing in contrast to her sleeves tightly bound by leather bracers, as he chances to look at this version of their father. Hanguang-jun was by no means an easygoing type of person, but seeing this boy around their age look so tense and unsure makes Sizhui's chest feel tight.

“Okay,” Sizhui relents, “I’ll talk to him.”

Shuilan smiles at that. “Looks like they’re done talking, you guys should head down now.”

Sizhui places a hand on her head and smoothes down an unruly lock of hair that had escaped from her braid. He remembers a time when she only ever wore her hair in tight buns, not a strand out of place, unlike the braids and topknots she favours now only for their practicality rather than the aesthetic.

“If you have any questions Jingyi can probably answer them,” Sizhui addresses the Jiang and Jin heirs, “He’s had to organize the library as punishment enough times to have the layout memorized.”

“Sizhui!”

Said boy flashes an innocent smile at his friend before departing with the rest of his group. Nie Huaisang approaches the boy before they even leave earshot, so Wei Shuilan feels relieved that she isn’t on the receiving end of that. She turns to the remaining occupants of the library.

“It will be difficult to find anything on time travel specifically as it’s never been done before, and this whole thing happened accidentally,” Shuilan noted the way the boys seemed to deflate, but spoke again to not take all the wind out of their sails, “but anything about countering arrays and talismans should still be helpful.”

Thankfully they work quietly, and whatever Lan Xichen had said to the two was enough for them to at least ignore each other if they couldn’t act with civility. 

“Hey Shuilan,” Jingyi called out after half a sichen of silence, with only the flipping of pages and rummaging through books to indicate work being done. 

Shuilan looked up from a treatise on teleportation arrays and hummed in acknowledgement.

“Do you think the solution may be outside the realm of mainstream cultivation?”

“Oh definitely,” she says without hesitation, “this is borderline heretical by cultivation society standards. Who even wants to be able to time travel?”

This peaks the interest of the other two.

Lan Jingyi pays them no mind, “They also said that about the compass of ill winds, and now it’s practically a requirement to have for cultivators.”

Shuilan raises an eyebrow at him wondering what he was getting at, especially in front of two people who haven’t yet experienced the cultural shift in cultivation practices caused by her father’s inventions.

“I’m just saying,” Jingyi says evasively as Shuilan narrows her eyes at him, “Perhaps we should be looking at less conventional types of practices to find our solution.”

Shuilan thinks he has a point. However, there are two problems with achieving that.

“What exactly are you suggesting, Lan Jingyi?”

Jin Zixuan looks positively scandalized by the implications of Jingyi’s words. A bit of a dramatic reaction in Shuilan’s opinion, it’s not like Jingyi suggested they use demonic cultivation. Although, now that she thinks about it perhaps they would do well to go in that direction as well, if only to cover all their bases.

She was going to do some experimentation on her own anyways in order to avoid being questioned about her less accepted practices, but it appears Lan Jingyi would prefer to have it out in the open. 

“Exactly what I meant,” Jingyi replies, unflinching, “Time travel has never been done before, there won’t be any books on it, as Shuilan said, especially not in the main library, but there are texts on slightly more unorthodox practices that we can look through as well that may be able to assist us better than texts on conventional talisman theories.”

Now it’s Jiang Wanyin’s turn to look scandalized. The other two young masters seem to have nothing to say in response, though not for lack of desire to, as they continue to gawk at Lan Jingyi with their mouths opening and closing like the fish that Shuilan often sees when she travels down the waterways.

Shuilan wonders what Jingyi hopes to accomplish with this line of conversation with these two in particular.

“What an interesting thing for a Lan disciple of all people to say,” an amused voice rings out. In their distracted state no one heard the man approach them. While the three young masters continue to throw accusations at each other, Shuilan turns around to greet their unexpected guest.

“Hello, Mo-qianbei.”

The man grins at her, and the greeting temporarily ceases the impending altercation between the three young masters.

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance.”

Lan Sizhui eyes dart between the old texts that he’s supposed to be sorting through, and his father who is studiously working through his own pile. With the way that the other boy hasn’t looked up from the books once in the last half a sichen, he can’t help but feel as though he is purposefully being avoided.

“Have you found anything yet, Lan-er-gongzi?” Sizhui attempts to make conversation.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji says in denial.

“Ah,” Sizhui’s smile begins to strain at the edges. Is this how other people feel trying to talk to my father?

Sizhui doesn’t know what to do. His father had never been anything but warm and loving with him, even, or perhaps especially when, the elders had openly criticized him for doing so. Even the first three years the man spent in seclusion, he made sure that Sizhui had everything he needed, and made time for him even though he needed to rest and heal.

While Sizhui struggles to maintain a conversation with a man who refuses to converse, he sees Nie Huaisang staring at him from his peripheral vision and decides that he’s been waiting for long enough.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me, Nie-gongzi?” He asks with a smile already knowing the answer.

Nie Huaisang smiles back, eyes twinkling in delight. “Well now that you say it, I do have a few things I’d like to ask.”

Sizhui’s smile remains polite. “Go ahead, gongzi.”

“So we’ve established that you and Xiao-wei are siblings, how old was she when Hanguang-jun took her in,” Nie Huaisang gets straight to the point, avoiding asking when Wei-xiong died.

Sizhui looked to his father once more, who seemingly was not paying attention to the conversation, but Sizhui could see the way that his shoulders tensed at the question. 

Sizhui on the other hand perked up at the opportunity. “He adopted both of us when I was six and she was four.”

Lan Wangji’s expression remained unphased, the only thing giving him away was the way he fumbled with the paper in his hands, almost dropping the ancient scroll on the floor.

“You’re both adopted?” Lan Xichen was the one who spoke up in surprise. 

Lan Sizhui looked straight at his father who finally looked up from the task at hand. “Yes, both Shuilan and I were adopted into the Lan Clan after Baba died.”

“Wei-xiong was your father as well?” Nie Huaisang says softly, clearly not expectating this.

“Mn,” Sizhui confirms, happy to have been able to say what he needed to with minimal difficulty. “Not by blood though, I was also adopted by him.”

“Did Wei Ying adopt you before having Shuilan,” Lan Wangji could no longer hide his own interest. His voice was soft when he asked, as if allowing himself to hope for something.

“Oh no, it was after she was, um, born,” Sizhui hopes no one noticed his stutter, “I don’t think it even occurred to him that he could be a father until Shuilan happened.” 

He laughs a little at the memory. Sizhui doesn’t remember much, but he remembers the absolute shock on the man’s face when he called him Baba for the first time, much like the first time he called Hanguang-jun A-die. He misses his baba, even if he knows that he isn’t allowed to.  At times he finds himself jealous of his little sister whose likeness allows her the right to mourn without shame for the man who the cultivation world scorned. Though he also knows that his lack of visible connection to the man made certain things easier for him. At the end of the day, they honour the man who saved them first in their own ways, and they confide in each other when the world becomes too much. 

“She was the happiest accident that could've happened during that time,” Sizhui says to them.

“I don’t mean to reopen old wounds,” Nie Huaisang begins cautiously, more cautiously than he had started, “but what happened to your parents. And,” he pauses a bit before going forward, “and Shuilan’s mother?”

Both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji listened earnestly.

Sizhui wants to laugh a bit at that. “My father died before I was born and my mother died during my birth,” he tries to think of what he should say about Shuilan’s non-existent mother, “No one knows who Shuilan’s mother is. Although, Baba used to joke that he was the one who gave birth to us.”

Lan Wangji makes a sound of hurt. When three sets of eyes turn to him he looks to be debating whether or not to stay silent.

“During breakfast at the inn I had made a comment about Wei Ying and her mother having her quite early,” Lan Wangji looks distinctly uncomfortable, “and she responded that she had never had a mother.”

Lan Sizhui couldn’t help himself, he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to hold his sides in order to stay upright. 

The three young masters watch on horrified by his reaction to his sister’s supposed nonchalance at being technically a bastard child.

“S-she, ha she,” Sizhui struggles to get his words past his giggles, “She must have been so embarrassed afterwards.”

“...”

Nobody knew what to say to that.

Lan Wangji clears his throat quietly before speaking again. “Yes, she seemed quite flustered after she realized what she said.”

“Yeah, I can definitely imagine,” the last of his laughter fizzles out of him, but looking at the faces of the boys around him almost sets him off again. “You don’t need to feel bad, young masters. Neither of us remember the parents we lost, and though some of the elders were a bit antagonistic, our life at the Lan Sect is better than the alternative.” 

The alternative being left for dead in the Burial Mounds, but Sizhui didn't say that. 

“If that’s the case then why isn’t Xiao-wei’s family name Lan?,” Nie Huaisang asks mercilessly. “Why did she leave if she was happy?”

The question makes the other two Lans curious as well. It makes Lan Wangji wonder if perhaps he had actually failed as a father in that aspect if his own adopted daughter did not want to stay at her natal sect, but nothing about the way that Hanguang-jun and Wei Shuilan interact with each other indicates a bad relationship.

“She was happy with us, but she wasn’t happy living in Cloud Recesses,” Sizhui responds, uncaring if this made the sect look bad, defending his family was more important. “She asked to change her name because she no longer wanted to be affiliated with any sect, and father would have been cruel if he forced her to stay after what happened to her.”

“What happened to her,” Lan Xichen asks apprehensively.

“Ask her if you want to know,” Sizhui says unmoving. 

Nie Huaisang sighs, like he’s just been given the world’s hardest assignment. “She’s so hard to corner though.”

Sizhui laughs at that, “She won’t reveal anything unless she wants to. She gets it from Hanguang-jun.”

The last part was directed to Lan Wangji, and though outwardly he looks no less moved than he was earlier, inwardly he was relieved that he was able to do his best with Wei Ying’s children. He’d never forgive himself if he kept them here against their will.

The four of them go back to looking for the much needed text.

Sizhui sees Lan Xichen nudge his brother playfully and say, “I guess I was right when I said that she reminded me of you.”

Lan Sizhui goes back to the task at hand feeling lighter than he had when they first started.

“Found it!”

The Lans all sigh in relief, some more obviously than others, as Nie Huaisang calls out his finding after what was another half sichen of looking through every text in the forbidden section.

“Treatise on unconventional and untested array formations,” Nie Huaisang reads aloud “Chapter 3: time suspension array formation!”

“Wonderful, we should head up to the library now and see how the others are fairing,” Lan Xichen leads them out of the restricted section. 

“I wonder how the others are doing,” Nie Huaisang starts a conversation, “There can’t actually be all that many helpful texts anywhere about anything like this.”

“Shuilan is inclined to such unprecedented situations and Jingyi is creative in his own right, I have faith that they could at least find something to get us started,” Sizhui says confidently. 

“A lot of faith to have in someone younger than them,” Nie Huaisang remarks curiously.

“She has more experience than me,” Sizhui explains unbothered, “She’s spent the last four years traveling even after settling down in that village. You’d be amazed at the things that you run into in the areas that the sects avoid.”

“I don’t mean to speak ill of Shuilan, but it doesn’t seem as though she’s that strong of a cultivator,” Lan Xichen questions, “I find it surprising that Wangji would allow his daughter to do something as dangerous as travel alone so young.”

Sizhui seems unsurprised by this inquiry, “She is a strong cultivator, she just doesn’t have as much practice with a sword.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“The women’s side of the Lan Sect doesn’t focus much on sword cultivation, and Shuilan in particular didn’t have a sword until a few months before she seceded from the sect.”

“Excuse me?” Lan Xichen isn’t the only one who seems baffled by this development.

“One of the reasons Shuilan didn’t ever feel welcome here outside of the Jingshi,” Sizhui frowns as he recalls, “due to some complications that followed our adoption the elders agreed that it would be for the best if she wasn’t taught to cultivate with a sword. The women’s side is already quite restricted, but they doubled down when it came to Shuilan.”

“How could they ask for something so extreme?” A cultivator without a sword is almost unheard of. Lan Wangji wonders how he could have allowed such a thing.

“They didn’t think she had the disposition for it,” not a lie, but not the truth, “She was given the regular education that women and girls receive here, and she was still allowed to learn basic and musical cultivation, so Hanguang-jun thought it was fine. But a year before she defected he taught her as much as he could so that she would be able to defend herself outside of the sect. That’s why she has suibian now.”

“Are the women of the sect truly so sheltered?” Lan Xichen asks, never having thought about it before.

Sizhui looks to this younger version of his uncle trying to quell his judgment, “No other sect segregates their disciples in such a way.”

Lan Xichen remains silent at that, pondering on the information he’s just been given. Lan Wangji worriedly looks at his brother, but leaves him alone to his thoughts and instead turns his attention back to Lan Sizhui.

“Basic cultivation skills aren’t enough for a rogue cultivator to get by on.”

“Good thing she’s one of the strongest musical cultivators Gusu Lan’s ever produced,” in spite of their best efforts, Sizhui adds uncharitably. “Hanguang-jun wasn’t going to go against the direct orders of both the elders under the counsel of both Lan-zongzhu and Grandmaster Lan. They wouldn’t have allowed the adoption to go through at all if he didn’t agree because he wasn’t in a position to go against them. But he made sure that Shuilan had all the skills necessary in order to survive outside of the sect.”

“Did they give you a similarly hard time?” Lan Wangji can’t help but ask with trepidation. Two adopted children before even getting married, he can see why the elders would have been displeased, but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable to him that his children were so restricted.

“At first they didn’t really acknowledge me,” Sizhui admits, “They were hoping that Hanguang-jun would still get married in spite of us, which isn’t that odd considering that he was a well desired bachelor, but he wasn’t interested in any of the women that were suggested and Lan-zongzhu didn’t want to push it.”

“Is that why you refer to him by his title in the company of others?” 

Sizhui smiles sadly at that, “The elders didn’t like it when we called him father, and it’s hard to break habits.”

Lan Wangji feels his heart sink at that. 

Sizhui wasn’t going to lie to his father about this. The Lan Sect is far from perfect and Sizhui is honest enough with himself to admit that maybe pointing out their flaws will lead to the better in their timeline if not his. 

They near the area of the library where they left the others. There isn’t any yelling so Sizhui can rest assured that there weren’t any major disagreements that had occurred. The four rounded the corner and expected to see the rest of their group poring over texts and discussing the best way to go about the best way to replicate the talisman that altered the array that sent them here, in order to find their solution.

What they did not expect was to see another addition to the group.

Mo Xuanyu was drawing out some kind of visual aid with two disciples on either side listening intently.

“-and that’s how you would counter this kind of array without knowing the exact formation.”

They only catch the tail end of the impromptu lecture, but it appears that had offered them insight based on the way that Shuilan seemed to hang onto the man’s every word. Even Jingyi appears deep in thought, though the other two young masters still look skeptical, but given the fact that the past is several cultural shifts away in terms of innovation Sizhui doesn’t put too much importance on their opinions. 

“It would save us time if we manage to do it this way,” Shuilan says while examining the paper before turning back to Mo Xuanyu, “Mo-qianbei, do you mind assisting us while you are here?”

Qianbei? Sizhui didn’t think that he was that much older than them but he supposes that he would technically be their senior. His group continues to stand back and observe.

“Yeah!” Lan Jingyi agrees, “We could really use the help, and the only one who actually knows what they’re doing is Shuilan and that’s too much work for one person to do effectively on their own.”

The time displaced young masters bristle, grimace, and cough awkwardly at that. 

Lan Xichen chooses then to make their presence known.

“Have you found anything in the library,” he says to catch their attention.

Mo Xuanyu smiles at them and gestures for someone to take the front.

Jiang Wanyin picks up the paper and hands it to Lan Xichen.

“We didn’t really know where to start considering how limited relevant texts would be, so Mo-gongzi came over after we had a disagreement to offer his help.”

Sizhui raises an eyebrow at Jingyi, wordlessly asking him what that was about. His friend smiles innocently at him, so Shuilan gives him a look indicating that she would tell him later. 

“Given Mo-qianbei’s experience with less popular types of cultivation practices, his insight would be greatly appreciated,” Shuilan offers as explanation, in lieu of asking for permission to get another person involved.

“I’m sure you’d be able to do just fine without my help, but I’m happy to be of assistance,” Mo Xuanyu smiles brightly at her. “I hope you don’t mind my intrusion, young masters, this is just too interesting of a situation to pass up on observing myself.”

With no objections to be had they get to work.

Lan Xichen opens the text to the array that sent them here and handed it to Wei Shuilan.

Both Wei Shuilan and Mo Xuanyu crowd over the text while they read the descriptions and other characteristics of the array in order to figure out what they’re really working with. The two begin to lead the discussion of the array properties and how to go about countering it with jargon that goes completely over everyone else’s head. If not for the papers that Shuilan had brought with her, and her previous explanations at her house the other young masters would not know what they were talking about at all. Everyone else listens as the two explain how a talisman could be used to directly reverse the effects of the array. Sizhui looks at the diagram of the array and can’t help but feel a growing sense of trepidation.

“It must have been the talisman that sent them here when the array tried to freeze,” Shuilan suggests, “It only looked like the array’s doing because it was set off at the same time the talisman was activated.”

Mo Xuanyu nods in agreement, “Yeah, that would make the most sense because from what I can tell, there’s nothing in the components of the array that could have done such a thing as send you all forward in time.”

Mo Xuanyu turns his attention to Jiang Wanyin, the boy shifting uncomfortably at his intense stare, before directing his words to everybody. “Young Masters, can you recall if anyone other than Wei Wuxian had come into contact with the array?”

Lan Xichen now has a look of understanding, “No Mo-gongzi, the only one who came into direct contact with the array was A-xian when he fell onto the table before we were sent here.”

Sizhui spies in his peripheral vision the way that Mo Xuanyu’s eyes widen slightly at Lan Xichen’s words. It must be odd for him to hear someone refer to the infamous Yiling Laozu so affectionately, so Sizhui doesn’t blame him for his surprise. He only hopes that Mo Xuanyu will know not to say anything to them about it, and seeing that the man himself is a demonic cultivator that likely won’t be a problem.

“The array must have blocked off the talisman,” Shuilan frowns down at the table of scattered notes, “The talisman was what sent all of you here and the reason why Baba wasn’t sent forward with you was because the array had technically trapped him.”

“Trapped him?” Jiang Wanyin asks. 

“Technically,” Shuilan repeats, “The purpose of the array is to trap resentful creatures within it and suspend it in time so that cultivators may attempt liberation without the target fighting back.” she rubs her temples and closes her eyes for a moment, seemingly needing to process her thoughts before voicing them, “But my father isn’t a resentful creature, so only one part of the array had any impact on him and by technically suspending him in time while the talisman was sending all of you forward , it resulted in nothing happening to him at all.”

They all take a moment to let that sink in while Shuilan continues the discussion with herself, muttering under her breath. 

“So we should be focusing on the talisman then? Because the array won’t be able to help us” Jin Zixuan asks this time.

“That would be best, although that makes it a little harder to come up with a solution,” Shuilan answers, “because that means we need to work from scratch.”

“No one remembers what the talisman looked like?” Mo Xuanyu speaks up, making his presence known once again.

“Ah,” Lan Xichen sheepishly answers, “It’s an original talisman that A-xian created for the purposes of countering a theoretical array. All of it was supposed to stay theoretical.” The last part was said in almost a whisper.

Mo Xuanyu nods at that, “At least we know where to start. Besides, we still need the array in order to avoid being sent to another point in time.”

“Yes,” Shuilan agrees immediately, “The array will work as an anchor so that none of us end up anywhere we don’t want to be.”

Nie Huaisang sighs in disappointment, and Sizhui can’t begrudge him for it. 

“At least we know where to start,” Nie Huaisang fans himself leisurely, “Can we take a break? We've been staring at such tiny writing for so long I feel like my eyes are gonna fall out of my head.”

Jiang Wanyin looks at his classmate incredulously while Jin Zixuan rolls his eyes. 

Mo Xuanyu laughs. “Perhaps lunch would be the best course action right now.”

Nobody disagrees with that.

Shuilan eats her tasteless meal slowly. She has no appetite but continues to eat. She doesn’t need to, not really, but she should and she knows her brother would be worried if she didn’t, so she eats her bland soup and picks at the rest of the unseasoned, bitter vegetables. She makes a note to herself to ask Zewu-jun if he’s already eaten all the baked goods they left at the Hanshi. 

In lieu of having good food she watches the rest of the young masters eat as a way to entertain and distract herself from her plate. Jiang Wanyin openly grimaces, Jin Zixuan looks down at his plate as if it had offended him, while Nie Huaisang pouts at his food. They all wear their feelings out in the open, a distinct contrast from the teachings of the Lan Sect.

Excess emotion is forbidden, do not smile for no reason, always maintain your own discipline. 

Sometimes Shuilan wondered what it would’ve been like to be raised in another sect before remembering that it wouldn’t have changed anything. All the sects are the same in the ways that matter, no matter how slowly they are changing.

Still, Shuilan looks to her brother and Jingyi where they sit next to Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, Slow change is better than no change.

The meal is had in silence, only the sounds of the cutlery to break it. Shuilan decides that she’d eaten enough and places her chopsticks flat on top of her bowl and lays her hands down on her lap as she thinks of how to go forward.

Mo-qianbei had departed from them saying that Hanguang-jun was expecting back at the Jingshi, but that he would be happy to help them tomorrow. The man was clearly a scholar at heart, Shuilan’s never met someone so academically inclined who acted in such a manner but her only point of reference were Lan Sect scholars, and she’d rather eat her own hand before subjecting herself to their judgment ever again. 

“Shuilan, Let’s go,” Sizhui says to her quietly.

She looks up from her plate, that she’d been burning a hole into with her stare, and notices that the rest of their group had finished their food. She gets up to follow them out of the dining pavilion.

Once they’re a distance away from the pavilion they begin to discuss whether or not they should go back to the library to continue in their pursuit of recreating the talisman, or if it would be best to consult someone else such as Zewu-jun.

“Our best bet would actually be Grandmaster Lan if we want to ask someone,” Lan Jingyi adds.

The three young masters from the other major sects wince at that, but the Lan disciples look thoughtful.

“Perhaps we should consult shufu,” says Lan Xichen.

“We’ll have to wait then,” Lan Sizhui informs them, “He and some other elders are performing Evocation on the severed arm that attacked us at Mo Manor, so we’ll need to wait until after Granduncle is finished with that.”

Nie HUaisang perks up, like a light had just been lit in his head. “I just realized something amazing.”

He receives several wary expressions before he lands on Shuilan’s neutral countenance. 

“Grandmaster Lan is also your Granduncle,” Nie Huaisang’s voice raises in pitch as he finishes his sentence.

Jiang Wanyin looks a bit sick at that.

Shuilan blinks not understanding, and answers plainly, “Yes? What of it?”

“Wei-xiong’s kids are Grandmaster Lan’s grandniece and nephew. Oh my god. ” 

Shuilan thinks that the Nie heir looks far too delighted by this. She looks over at her brother, and finds the same look of confusion. She turns then to Lan Wangji who seems to understand her unasked question.

“Wei Ying and Shufu had not gotten along until recently,” he answers bluntly.

Shuilan nods, already knowing that from the stories that granduncle would tell them of their father when he was a student here.

“Granduncle speaks quite fondly of him,” is all Shuilan responds with.

Nie Huaisang expression brightens even more at that. Surely Baba couldn’t have been that bad?

They continue to walk back to the library to compile their notes in order to present it to Lan Qiren, and Shuilan notices how tense Jiang Wanyin had gotten after the conversation. She doesn’t know what the boy’s problem is, and truthfully she doesn’t care all that much, but she is curious to know why he appears so appalled at the notion that Wei Wuxian had a life outside of the Jiang Sect. Perhaps it’s because he feels that they had parted on bad terms, which isn’t inaccurate, but it feels deeper than that. There’s a sense of entitlement that Shuilan doesn’t like about the boy.

They walk at a leisurely pace, in no rush due to the fact that there isn’t much they can accomplish at this moment, before they are stopped by a distressed junior disciple who immediately addresses Sizhui and Jingyi.

“Shixiong, help! The demonic arm has knocked out the elders!”

“What!”

Sizhui and Jingyi make a break for it and follow their shidi in the direction of the Mingshi.

The rest of the group freezes for a moment, before Shuilan runs past them in the same direction. 

She only turns back to call out, “Follow them!”

The scene that greets her is not a pleasant one.

The junior disciples who had been part of the assignment were in a panic. The doors to Mingshi would not budge no matter the amount of energy the disciples had expelled in order to try and open it. Several had gone to retrieve a senior that could help them but due to a major night hunt, very few of them were available. 

The elders have collapsed leaving them with only one left in the Mingshi capable of subduing the demonic arm, but being contained had given the arm a chance to recuperate its power. Hanguang-jun alone may not be able to handle it.

Sizhui and Jingyi were fighting to get the doors to the Mingshi open to no avail, and Shuilan could hear them yelling for someone to go get Zewu-jun, but in the time it took to alert the man and force the doors open it would be too late. 

Lan Shuilan, you must never stray from the path of  righteousness. Prove that you are better than the monster that you came from.

She glared at the doors and looked around at the chaos. The sounds of a guqin were heard through the lacquered doors, but no sign of the demonic arm being subdued. Shuilan raised her flute to her lips but before she could play a single note, a discernible aura of resentful energy that was out of place within the sanctity of the Cloud Recesses flooded the area.

“Open!”

The doors flew open and standing before them was a black clothed figure holding a bamboo flute, with his hair tied back by a crimson red ribbon. Shuilan blinked as if to dispel the picture in front of her, and in its place stood Mo Xuanyu. The man walked into the Mingshi without turning back even as she saw Sizhui and Jingyi call for him. 

The doors slammed shut again, and with it the sounds of a discordant dizi accompanied the guqin in a duet as they played evocation.

Lan Sizhui ran over to his sister as the sect heirs began to throw a barrage of questions towards Lan Jingyi. Sizhui worriedly checked over his sister as she was not responding to him. Shuilan allowed herself to be moved away, further from the Mingshi where the other disciples have decided to gather as they wait for their seniors to come out successful.

With a hand desperately gripping her dizi, the normally cool wood feeling hot under her hand, she couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her own blood running through her ears.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself feeling a desperate ache in her chest.

“What a little mystery you are. I wonder just how you were able to form a solid body? If I wasn’t sure that you were definitely conscious I’d run so many experiments on you. Haha, I guess for now I should give you a name. Hmmm, what would be appropriate, little corpse is too blunt. Oh, I got it! Shuilan, that can be your name! ‘Shui’ for water, and ‘lan’ for excess, because you were made out of my excess energy. ‘Shuilan’ to flood, because if you manage to grow up I hope you’re filled with so much feeling, overflowing with it, no one would be able to say that you’re anything but human.”

“B-ba…ba.”

“...?”

“S-sh-shui…l-la-lan’s ba…ba.”

“...Yes. That’s right, little one. This one is Shuilan’s baba.”

Chapter Text

A-yuan sits contentedly in the dirt while he waits for Xian-gege to finish planting him with the radishes. 

No matter how many times Qing-jiejie scolds Xian-gege, A-yuan usually finds himself patting the dirt he’s sat in at some point during the day. Qing-jiejie told him not to listen to Xian-gege when he tries to plant him but A-yuan wants to have little siblings, and Xian-gege said that if A-yuan gets planted in the radish field he can grow as many didis and meimeis as he wants!

“Ah A-yuan, look at you so happy playing in the dirt,” Xian-gege giggles at him. “At this rate you’ll have a little sibling in no time!”

A-yuan claps his hands cheerfully at that and laughs with his Xian-gege. He doesn’t know where Xian-gege came from, but his granny, aunties, and uncles look a lot better than they did before and no one is yelling at them the same way that the men dressed in yellow robes would before they moved. Xian-gege brought them all here and he plays with A-yuan when he’s not in his cave so A-yuan likes him even if he doesn’t have any money and sometimes teases him too much. 

“Say, A-yuan,” Xian-gege has a funny look on his face that makes A-yuan giggle again, “Do you want a little brother or sister?”

A-yuan looks up at his gege’s face and thinks. He thinks of Qing-jiejie and Ning-gege. She has a little brother, and Ning-gege always listens to her so maybe A-yuan should have a little brother who will listen to him because he’s the older brother. 

“A little brother,” A-yuan answers after much pondering with all the seriousness he possesses at five years old. “Xian-gege, do you have a little brother?”

Xian-gege stops planting him for a second. He gets quiet and A-yuan thinks he has a sad look on his face, but A-yuan’s not seen him make that face before. 

“Not really, no,” says Xian-gege, whatever that means. “But I have an older sister,” he says smiling again. A-yuan likes it when he smiles. At A-yuan’s nod his smile turns softer and he starts speaking again. “She’s the best.

“Like Qing-jiejie?” She’s an older sister, too. 

Xian-gege laughs loudly before answering, “No, my Shijie is nicer than your Qing-jiejie.”

A-yuan frowns at that, making Xian-gege laugh again, “She’s a lot gentler than your Qing-jiejie, but I guess they share some similarities.”

Xian-gege gently pulls him out of the dirt and brushes off his robes, completely dirty now but A-yuan doesn’t mind even though Qing-jiejie does. It takes him a moment to realise that Xian-gege is still talking about his sister.

“They’re both very devoted to their families,” Xian-gege has a faraway look in his eyes when he says this. “They’ll do anything in their power for them.”

Xian-gege then hoists him up on his hip and begins to walk towards his cave. “Let’s go check on our little experiment, shall we?”

“Mn!” A-yuan nods eagerly.

Xian-gege hufffs, “There you go copying your Rich-gege.”

A-yuan leans his head against his gege’s shoulder and smiles up at him.

“Rich-gege is cool.”

Xian-gege shifts A-yuan in his hold, his hands now under his underarms as he shakes the boy in front of him like a ragdoll, not pausing in his step. He tells A-yuan that he’s just as cool as Rich-gege, but A-yuan doesn’t say anything because he thinks it’s funny whenever Xian-gege gets jealous of Rich-gege. A-yuan knows that Xian-gege agrees with him, he thinks that Xian-gege thinks Rich-gege is even cooler than he says he is. 

Xian-gege got sad when Rich-gege had to leave, he was even sadder when Rich-gege’s brother came to see them. A-yuan spent the rest of that day with granny. 

Xian-gege shifts A-yuan again into a proper carry and A-yuan clings tightly to his neck.  

A-yuan sits in Xian-gege’s cave as he and Ning-gege look at the weird red blob in the corner. A-yuan wants to look closer but they told him to sit far away from it until they figure out what it is. He was supposed to stay with granny but he wanted to play with Xian-gege. 

Maybe he should’ve gone with granny because no one’s playing with him right now! They’re too busy studying the weird red blob!

A-yuan huffs and eyes it from his corner of the cave. He looks at his geges and sees them in deep conversation. He doesn’t understand what they’re talking about. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of the words being said, but he really doesn’t get it. All he knows is that the red blob is apparently something that needs to be watched in case it blows up. Or something.

“It seems to be a culmination of the excess resentful energy that I have to dispel from my body, otherwise the resentment starts to give me too many adverse side effects,” Xian-gege tells Ning-gege. “But it isn’t pure resentful energy, otherwise I’d be able to control it the same way I do the corpses.”

“So what do you think it is, Wei-gongzi?” Ning-gege asks.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t answer as he twirls chenqing around his fingers. He scrutinizes the ominous cloud, yet somehow despite it all it remains devoid of any harmful intent in the same way that the resentful energy of fierce corpses behave. A-yuan turns his head and looks back at the blob too. It looks wispy and floats like a cloud, kinda like the way the red floats around Xian-gege when he plays his chenqing.

“Y’know, it kinda feels the same way you do.”

Wen Ning turns his head towards Wei Wuxian, “What? In what way?”

“I can call to it, but I don’t control it,” Wei Wuxian hums. Wen Ning looks like he’s thinking but no one can really tell because he can’t move his face much anymore. They continue their discussion and sit at the little set-up that Wei Wuxian has with all of his papers with his theories and little parts he’s using for his different inventions.

Neither of them are paying any attention to the little boy slowly approaching the red blob, whose wispy red tendrils seem to be looking at A-yuan.

A-yuan watches it, he tilts his head and to his amazement the little cloud seems to be copying him. He raises his hand up, and a little tendril emerges from the blob and extends itself up. When he lowers his hand, it lowers its “arm”. 

He sits in front of it and sees the way that the hazy cloud-like blob begins to gather in on itself. The blob starts to look less like a blob and more like a shadow. A-yuan raises his arms again, and the shadow copies him. A hazy outline of a little person like A-yuan himself, it makes him giggle. He holds both arms out in front of him, palms forward, and he sees the blob seem to hesitate, shifting a little bit away from him like the little bunnies in Xian-gege’s bedtime stories when they get scared of the bigger animals. A-yuan shifts forward closer to the red shadow and holds his arms out again, this time with his palms up.

“Hello, I’m A-yuan.”

Jin Zixuan has no idea what the fuck is even happening anymore. 

One minute they’re discussing whether or not they should speak to Grandmaster Lan, the next they’re all waiting anxiously for Hanguang-jun and Mo-gongzi to emerge from the Mingshi with a hopefully subdued severed arm. And to make matters worse he gets such an odd feeling from the black clad man but he can’t for the life of him place where he might have seen him before. It makes even less sense when he remembers that they’re in the future and that there’s no way he would have met the man as he is, but instead as a young child. Jin Zixuan doesn’t meet many children and he can’t think of any scenario where he would have met a child not affiliated with a sect. Those aren’t the kinds of nighthunts he tends to go on. 

Jin Zixuan looks around him at the Lan disciples anxiously waiting for their seniors. The ones who had gone to get Zewu-jun came back, not with the man because it turns out that he had gone down to Caiyi town to settle a dispute with the Magistrate, but with several healers on standby while waiting for Hanguang-jun and Mo Xuanyu. He sees the way that Lan Jingyi is trying to calm down the younger disciples while answering questions being thrown at him by Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang. Jin Zixuan doesn’t envy the position that he’s in right now. He also sees Lan Sizhui holding a practically unresponsive Wei Shuilan. 

Jin Zixuan watches the older brother rub his younger sister’s arm in what is probably meant to be a soothing motion. Wei Shuilan leans against him, but otherwise makes no acknowledgment of the other boy who is whispering to her. She stares blankly at the Mingshi doors, eyes glazed over, and unless she's blinking at the exact same times that Jin Zixuan is, she hasn’t been doing it at all. She probably inherited that unsettling stare from Lan Wangji. If she didn’t look like Wei Wuxian’s carbon copy, he’d believe it if he was told that she was Hanguang-jun’s actual child.

Jin Zixuan is an only child, his father’s only legitimate son. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a sibling, but seeing the close relationship between Hanguang-jun's children when they aren’t even blood related to each other, he can’t help but feel jealous. He’s the only heir of the Jin Clan, and he has never had such a close relationship with any of his family members, not even those his age.

“Sizhui do you think Mo Xuanyu is going to be okay in there?” a worried Lan Jingyi asks Lan Sizhui. He also places a hand against Wei Shuilan’s cheek and seems to be squeezing it lightly. Seriously, since when have Lan disciples been so touchy? And with a girl who isn’t even related to him?

“Hanguang-jun is with him,” Lan Sizhui responds, “They’ll be okay. Hanguang-jun subdued the arm himself before, and with Mo-gongzi’s assistance I’m sure they have it handled.”

Lan Jingyi nods at him before turning his gaze down to Wei Shuilan, hand still resting on her cheek. “Shuilan are you okay?”

Wei Shuilan finally seems to snap out of it and breaks her staring contest with the Minghsi doors, and only when her eyes focus does Lan Jingyi drop his hand from her face. Her gaze bounces between the two boys comforting her. “I’m,” she pauses as she scrunches her face, “I thought I saw something when Mo-gongzi walked into the Mingshi.” She opens and closes her mouth, unable to voice what she seems to want to say before mumbling under her breath, no longer speaking to the boys.

When she speaks again Jin Zixuan thinks that he’s misheard her.

“I think all the resentful energy is finally starting to mess with me.”

What the fuck does that mean?

Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui share a look of concern before the latter addresses her.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” he says softly, “I know you’ve been going to the Burial Mounds by yourself, and no don’t make that face. You may be able to handle resentful energy better than the rest of us but you still need to take breaks and rest.”

“I can’t,” Wei Shuilan says it so firmly she almost sounds angry. She looks to him with the same serious expression Jin Zixuan saw at the inn when she believed he and the others had come to her town with nefarious intent. Jin Zixuan doesn’t think that she’s sounded so obviously angry since their first meeting, before settling into a constant state of detached interest with them.

“You know why I can’t.”

Lan Sizhui seems to wilt at that, but nods and keeps his arm around her and says nothing in response.

Jin Zixuan pretends he didn’t hear anything.

He also ignores the frantic whispering beside him as Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin argue with the Twin Jades of Lan about whether or not they should try to learn more about the future of cultivation, because whatever it is that Mo Xuanyu did, it was not orthodox cultivation. 

“Did you see him?” Nie Huaisang almost screams. “The way the door opened for him so easily when everyone else was either blocked or knocked out? Don’t you want to know what he did?”

Jiang Wanyin enthusiastically agrees with him, looking stubbornly towards the other two.

Lan Xichen looks frustrated. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t ask him. All I’m saying is that we should exercise some discretion when asking about future related things.”

Before anyone can say anything else, the surrounding area begins to calm and the sound of rest being played stops. The two seniors make their way out of the Mingshi.

The juniors all collectively make their way to the two men as they emerge from the Mingshi, eagerly awaiting orders as they anxiously peek behind them to peer at the unconscious elders. The healer who had been waiting with them stepped forward.

“Hanguang-jun,” the man bows swiftly as Hanguang-jun nods at him.

“The elders have been rendered unconscious but other than their energy being depleted they should not have sustained any major injuries.”

The healer makes quick work of checking the elders and recruiting the remaining disciples to wake and lead their elders in the direction of the Healing Pavilion. Soon the only ones left at the Mingshi with the two seniors are the seven of them.

Wei Shuilan practically runs into Hanguang-jun’s arms, Lan Sizhui following close behind.

“Hah, Hanguang-jun you’re so mean,” Mo Xuanyu quips in a tone much lighter than what is probably appropriate for the situation, reminiscent of Wei Wuxian’s own grating voice. “Look at you worrying your children like that.”

Lan Wangji, the younger one, stares at the man like he can’t believe that he’s real.

Hanguang-jun raises a hand and gently pets Wei Shuilan’s hair before lowering it to wrap around her shoulders, her own arms tightly clinging to his middle (Not for the first time the heirs collectively think it odd how physically affectionate this person is despite her general aloofness). His other hand firmly planted on Lan Sizhui, gently holding the juncture where the boy’s neck meets his shoulder. His actions so paternal and loving it makes Jin Zixuan look away, feeling like he’s intruding on something private. He’s not the only one.

Jiang Wanyin glowers at the ground in front of his feet, probably feeling the same discomfort Jin Zixuan feels, loathe as he is to admit to anything in common with the other boy.

The others watch on, for entirely different reasons. 

Lan Wangji resolutely ignores his brother’s warm gaze as he sees this older version of himself be so openly affectionate with his children. Mo Xuanyu had respectfully stepped back to give the family some space but he looks on at them with a wistful smile on his face. How sad it is that such a close family appears to be such a novelty among them. 

The heartfelt scene almost makes them forget about the severed arm merely three chi away from them. 

“What the heck is that!?” Nie Huaisang screams when notices it. 

The arm convulses on the ground, and Mo Xuanyu turns his head towards it as well. In contrast to the panic of the junior disciples, Mo Xuanyu merely regards the arm with an inquisitive look before raising his flute to his lips and playing a gentle melody that stills the severed limb entirely.

Nie Huaisang had moved to cower behind Lan Xichen, and he stares at the man incredulously. 

“Hanguang-jun,” Mo Xuanyu addresses the man who has finally stepped away from his children, “It appears we have our work cut out for us with this one.”

“Mn.”

Mo Xuanyu smiles brightly, like he’s talking about having a nice picnic instead of dealing with a demon arm.

Just who is this man to be speaking to Hanguang-jun as if they were equals, and why does Hanguang-jun let him?

Jin Zixuan wants to ask them what the hell is going on, but refrains because he’d just be wasting his breath. It’s better to interrogate Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui, who might actually give them answers than these men who are no doubt going to be more tight-lipped than Wei Shuilan has been. Wei Shuilan, who has now moved closer to the arm and crouched down in front of it as if studying it. 

No one’s stopping her, not even her Hanguang-jun who seems rather protective of his daughter. Like they’re all accustomed to letting her do whatever she wants regardless of whether or not it’s a good idea.

She reaches out a hand to touch it, and Jin Zixuan surprises himself by grabbing her wrist before she can make contact. They both freeze at the action, equally stunned at the other’s behaviour as they stare at each other. Jin Zixuan bent over her while she continues to crouch. 

“What are you doing?” she asks looking up at him. Luckily she doesn’t sound offended, or maybe she is and Jin Zixuan just can’t tell. She may not be affiliated with the Lan anymore but she definitely retained their composure. At least in this aspect of interaction, the heir of Jin corrects in his head as he recalls her touchiness with the two Lan disciples currently speaking to their seniors. 

“You really are Wei Wuxian’s kid,” he can’t help but say.

Her face doesn’t move, and he starts to grow uncomfortable under her scrutiny despite the fact that he’s quite literally in a position above her, but doesn’t let go of her wrist in case she decides to touch the arm again.

They both stand and she lightly shakes her wrist out of his grip and takes a small step away from him. He doesn’t dare look at the rest of their group’s reaction to what had just transpired. Luckily the two seniors were engrossed in their discussion with Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi and had not noticed due to the lack of outward reaction from the girl. 

“I just wanted to check something,” Wei Shuilan says, dismissing his concern over her thoughtlessness.

Jin Zixuan squints at her, not convinced. He’d seen the way Wei Wuxian gets when he’s curious, and all of Cloud Recesses is lucky it is still standing given the boy’s penchant for reckless innovationn.

Seems even though she was raised in an entirely different environment she can’t escape her father’s blood. She looks away from their stare off and moves closer to Lan Sizhui.

“We should head northwest then,” Mo Xuanyu states like it’s the obvious course of action. Jin Zixuan doesn’t know what’s going on anymore. “Hopefully we’ll find some clues about our friend over here.”

“How do you know you’ll find anything northwest?” Lan Jingyi asks dubiously.

“It’s pointing northwest.”

“What?”

They all look closer at the now immobile arm, and it was in fact pointing northwest.

“It might just be frozen that way,” Lan Xichen points out.

Wei Shuilan moves faster this time, and takes hold of her sword and pokes at the arm with the sheathed blade before anyone can do anything to stop her. 

Jin Zixuan goes to push her away again before Mo Xuanyu’s laugh catches him off guard.

“It points that way no matter how you move it,” the man delightedly informs them. True to his word, the arm had been rotated in the opposite direction it was originally frozen in, but its wrist had bent awkwardly to continue pointing northwest. “Well done, Shuilan."

Wei Shuilan offers him a faint smile before turning to Jin Zixuan briefly. He huffs and looks away. How was he supposed to know that’s what she was checking?

“Will you be leaving soon?” Lan Sizhui asks Hanguang-jun, who nods in answer.

“We will inform Xiongzhang and then make our way northwest.”

Both siblings nod at that, and Wei Shuilan turns her attention back to Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu seems to read something in her expression because he places a hand on her shoulder and regards her kindly. “It seems I won’t be able to assist you with the array after all.”

Jin Zixuan can’t see her face from where she is turned away from them, but he notes the way her posture deflates in disappointment.

“Though given the group you’ve got here, I’m sure you’ll be successful in your endeavors,” Mo Xuanyu smiles radiantly, Hanguang-jun huffing in amusement at him.

“We must go soon,” Hanguang-jun announces, then turns to his son. “Sizhui, you and Jingyi make sure everything is in order before going to check on your granduncle.”

“Yes, A-die,” the young man bows to his father and Lan Jingyi follows in suit. They both rise from their bows and goes to check on the rest of the juniors who had not made their way to the healing pavilion.

Jin Zixuan follows his cohort as they head back to the library to wait for their keepers.

Once the sect heirs have gone on their own, Wei Shuilan is left with her father and Mo Xuanyu.

“A-die,” she starts, before looking around and decides that the lingering Lan disciples are far enough away. “Is it demonic cultivation?”

Her bluntness startles Mo Xuanyu, but Hanguang-jun answers her just as bluntly. 

“No, I do not believe it is,” at her skeptical look he continues. “It may not be demonic cultivation, but the motivation behind such a thing is likely to be immoral regardless of how it was executed. Demonic cultivation may actually help us in finding our answers.”

Wei Shuilan nods in acquiescence. 

Mo Xuanyu can’t believe what he’s hearing right now.

“The Lans have really gotten lax over the years,” he mutters to himself.

Wei Shuilan huffs at that, “Hardly.”

“Really, those rules carved on the mountain must just be for show now,” Mo Xuanyu continues to joke.

“Ha! Tell that to Jingyi whenever he has to copy them down,” Shuilan retorts.

Hanguang-jun looks between the two of them, fondness clear on his countenance. 

“Shuilan, go with your brother,” he instructs her, “Your assistance would be appreciated in cleansing any residual resentment in the Mingshi. Perhaps you two can play a duet for your granduncle later.”

Shuilan perks up at the idea. She cups her hands and bows to them. Suibian still in her hands and she misses the proud look Mo Xuanyu gives her. 

“I will do so, A-die,” she purses her lips, debating with herself for a moment before speaking again. “Be safe, both of you.”

The two men share a smile with each other.

Once the last of the residual resentful energy had been dispersed, Lan Jingyi parts ways with Sizhui and Shuilan, who head straight for Grandmaster Lan in his residence to check on him. With Shuilan there, cleanup had gone by a lot faster. Jingyi and Sizhui, along with the rest of their cohort would have had it handled on their own, but there is something to be said about the work ethic of someone who has tasked themselves with cleansing the Burial Mounds entirely on her own with nothing but her dizi. Jingyi’s own skill with musical cultivation is nothing to scoff at either, but he can’t deny that he does prefer sword cultivation. 

He debates whether or not he should go debrief with Zewu-jun but Hanguang-jun had already said that he would speak with the sect leader before leaving, so there’s really no need for Jingyi to go.

With that in mind he makes his way to the library to see what the time displaced young masters are up to. 

Jingyi can’t help his curiosity, much in the same way that his two closest friends can’t help their mild hostility. He never met Wei Wuxian, he had only ever heard stories of the Yiling Laozu and his army of the undead. He knows that the stories are mostly nothing but fanfare, turning a man who had a real life into something of a fairytale monster. Hell, even Lan Qiren had rebuked those who gossiped about him in class and it would never fail to remind his students that Wei Wuxian was once a promising cultivator, a genius in his own right, before the resentful energy corrupted his mind after the loss of his golden core. He understands that the man was his friends’ father, a sore spot for them, and that their generation doesn’t know everything about the situation that he was put in. They literally learn about him in class in order to avoid history repeating itself. Which is why he would never ask the time traveling young masters about Wei Wuxian in front of Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan. 

But his friends are not here right now. 

They are having tea with Grandmaster Lan.

Lan Jingyi may be a Lan through and through, the essence of the rules running through his veins, but he also has poor impulse control. He knows because his seniors (and peers) are constantly telling him. Seriously, many people are under the impression that if he’d just keep himself in check more often he’d be the perfect Lan, and what a thought that is when Sizhui already exists.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of arguing as he enters the library pavilion.

Surprisingly Nie Huaisang is the one in the middle of the argument, and even more surprising is that Lan Wangji is the one fighting him.

“You’re being so unreasonable right now!?” Nie Huaisang screams in frustration, ignoring Lan Xichen who is trying to get between the two of them.

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Wanyin seem happy to sit this one out.

“Yelling is forbi-,” Lan Wangji gets cut off.

“We are twenty years into the future,” Nie Huaisang’s bites out, “ Only twenty years into the future, and Wei-xiong is already dead.” The Nie heir glares mutinously at the other boy. “With the way his kids are acting it wasn’t just a regular nighthunt that killed him, and you don’t want to know what happened? And that’s not even mentioning what we saw with Mo Xuanyu.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t answer.

Lan Xichen pushes his brother behind him to face Nie Huaisang. “Huaisang, it’s not our place to ask about these things.”

“He’s my friend. Is that not a good enough reason to wonder how one of the most promising cultivators in our generation died so young?”

The rhetorical question hangs in the air and Lan Jingyi finally remembers that he has a voice.

“Young masters,” he calls out to get their attention.

Nie Huaisang quickly turns around and schools his expression into something more amiable, a complete contrast to his previous demeanor.

“Ah, Jingyi-xiong!” he greets as if he hadn’t been yelling in frustration mere moments ago. “How long have you been standing there, huh? I thought eavesdropping was against the rules.”

“So is yelling,” Jingyi responds, not missing a beat.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t even pretend to be remorseful.

“There’s been a disagreement,” Yeah, obviously. “Perhaps you can settle it for us” oh please no. 

Jingyi would like nothing more than to turn around and leave but that’s more Shuilan’s thing than his. 

“I think I need more information if I’m to make a judgment on the spot.”

Nie Huaisang smiles like a cat that’s just about to jump a helpless bird.

“Well you see, Jingyi-xiong,” Jingyi doesn’t miss the way that Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji narrow their eyes at him when they couldn’t even properly deescalate the situation, nevertheless Nie Huasiang continues, “We had a disagreement on how much of the future we should be actively learning about.”

“Okay.”

“And I am of the belief that learning about the way you lost a friend is perfectly acceptable to know about, especially considering that this isn’t our timeline,” Nie Huaisang finishes with a deceptively calm tone. Lan Jingyi doesn’t feel safe anymore. 

“I see why the argument got out of hand.”

Jingyi looks around the room before he lets out a sigh.

“You understand that you’re asking about my best friends’ dead dad, right?”

At that Nie Huaisang actually looks a bit sorry, but clearly not enough to back off completely.

“I’m aware, and that’s all the more reason to know about it,” Nie Huasiang answers. “They’ve gone through a lot, and if we can prevent it from happening at all in our timeline, I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”

Lan Jingyi has several responses to that, he doesn’t even know where to start.

“If that dumbass did something to get himself killed we have the right to know about it,” Jiang Wanyin interjects indelicately.

Lan Jingyi wants to tell him to read the room a little better before speaking, but given his own experience with the boy’s (and he can call him that because they’re all younger than him right now, except for Lan Xichen, which is disorienting enough on its own) older self he decides against it. He still doesn't let it slide.

“Don’t ever let Sizhui or Shuilan hear you say that about their dad,” Jingyi glares at him.

Jiang Wanyin grits his teeth but says nothing.

They all continue to look at Lan Jingyi, and he decides that enough is enough. His friends deserve to be left alone about this and if giving these people some information about Wei Wuxian will keep them occupied then so be it. Most of what Lan Jingyi knows is taught in a classroom anyways.

“If I answer your questions, you have to promise you’ll lay off Sizhui and Shuilan,” he demands firmly. “They have enough to deal with as it is on top of figuring out how to send you all home.”

Nie Huaisang looks him straight in they eyes, not a trace of humour on his face, and nods.

Lan Xichen speaks up, “We don’t need to know specific details, we’d just like to know what happened.”

“Say it.”

The other heirs are thrown off by the stubborn expression on Jingyi’s face. “Say that you won’t bother them about their deceased father.”

“We won’t ask for any information that isn’t freely given,” Lan Wangji affirms. 

Maybe it’s because he’s Hanguang-jun’s younger self, but Jingyi just can’t help but trust him.

“Okay,” Jingyi finally relaxes. “I’ll answer as best I can.”

To no one's surprise, Nie Huaisang is the one that starts it off.

“Wei Wuxian is a prodigy with a strong core. I have a very hard time believing that the circumstances surrounding his death would be natural.”

Awesome, let’s get straight into it, Jingyi thinks sarcastically. Better this than them reading about the Yiling Laozu on their own.

“His golden core was crushed during the war against the Wen Sect.”

This answer was met with complete silence.

Lan Jingyi tries to fight off the smugness he’s starting to feel at rendering them speechless because pettiness is not the trait of a good Lan disciple. 

Chapter Text

The concluding notes of Clarity rang through the air in Grandmaster Lan’s residence. The calming energy of the song settling the elder into a state of content as he watches his grandchildren proudly. Lan Sizhui lets the tranquility waft in the silence for a moment before Grandmaster Lan gestures for them to sit with him.

“Are you feeling better, Granduncle?” Shuilan asks him, eyes full of concern as she and Sizhui come to sit on either side of him at the small round table they pulled out for his tea. Wei Shuilan reaches for the pot and distributes the tea into their cups. One of the only things that she’d learned from her etiquette lessons that she actually appreciates, even if it lead to some less desirable assumptions about her background.

“Yes, your playing has helped greatly,” Granduncle says. He doesn’t smile, but there is a clear softness in the man’s face as he regards them. 

Shuilan nods at him as she hands him his cup of hot tea. Lan Sizhui does one final check of their granduncle’s qi and is relieved to find it steadily pulsing through his meridians. They spend a moment appreciating the silence before Grandmaster Lan sets his cup down and speaks.

“Sizhui, has your excursion through the forbidden texts aided you in your research?” 

“Yes,” Sizhui answers automatically. “We’ve found the collection containing the array formation, so we have something to work off of as of now.”

“While this situation requires unique attention, I expect you to still attend your morning classes. Jingyi as well.”

Sizhui suppresses a chuckle at how sternly the last part was said. “Of course, Granduncle.”

Grandmaster Lan nods in approval. “And you, Shuilan?”

Shuilan shakes her head, “I don’t think anything in the library will help us all that much.”

“Hm?”

“There’s nothing in the texts about talismans that I don’t already know,” she answers bluntly.

From anyone else it would sound like arrogance, from Wei Shuilan, it was a mere fact. 

She had undergone rigorous (and frankly unreasonable) instruction under the Lan Sect’s various scholars in regards to both theoretical study and practical application on anything and everything. Truly, once they learned that she was a genius like her father they didn’t hesitate to use her, uncaring of how undeserving they were of her talents and the hypocrisy of “cultivating her talents” while denying her the right to improve her actual cultivation. Sizhui recalls his own training before Hanguang-jun was well enough to take over. 

He takes another mouthful of bitter tea. 

“I had hoped that perhaps there would be any kind of texts regarding time, even theoretical ideas of how to distort it, that could aid us but given the unprecedented nature of our problem, I doubt it,” Shuilan begins to explain. “It would be better to focus on actual experimentation in order to recreate the talisman that sent them all here. We also need to know which energy sources would be most viable for the talismans, and what sort of mechanism is needed in order to control where someone ends up.”

Grandmaster Lan lets out a contemplative hum as he strokes his beard.

“Alright, you two know what you’re doing,” he says, “And now that you have the basis of what kind of experimentation needs to be done, I don’t believe that you need so many people working on this project.”

Sizhui was not expecting that. “What do you mean by that, Granduncle? Will we not need their presence to aid in our investigation?”

Shuilan merely tilts her head, silently asking for the man to elaborate.

“These young masters had previously been attending our Guest Lectures, had they not?” Grandmaster Lan takes another sip of his tea as his grandchildren share a wary look before nodding.

“They’ve already fallen behind in their lessons and I would be remiss if I didn’t take charge of their education while they’re under the hospitality of the Lan.”

Oh, the young masters are not going to like that. Sizhui can already feel the oncoming headache.

“What do you mean his golden core was crushed!?”

Lan Wangji sincerely regrets not silencing Nie Huaisang himself when he started this argument. It’s not that he doesn’t agree with the Nie heir about saving Wei Ying from a tragic fate that orphans his children, but he also understands that the children in question are not going to be forthcoming in their responses to such invasive questions. He doesn’t want to upset either of them, especially considering his future self’s role in their lives. He doesn’t want to take advantage of the inherent trust and desire to cater to him that he is now able to see in their actions.

“I mean exactly that,” Lan Jingyi says sternly. “Before the Sunshot Campaign had officially started Wei Wuxian was captured by Wen Chao and his men. His core was crushed by Wen Zhuliu, the Core Melting Hand.”

Lan Jingyi gives them a moment to let the information sink in. 

Lan Wangji doesn’t understand what he is meant to do with this information and is gratified to see everyone else mirroring his own internal horror, even Jin Zixuan. 

Jiang Wanyin’s face had blanched before his expression settled into an angered scowl. 

“Do the Wen think themselves as gods? To crush another cultivator's core!” he exclaims, rage evident in his voice. 

“Wen Rouhan wants all the control and power over the cultivation world. It seems he isn’t above using dishonourable methods to do so,” Lan Xichen says gravely. 

“Wait but Wei-xiong lost his core before the war officially started?” Nie Huaisang directs them back to their topic. “That’s not what killed him?”

“How could he have lived after that?” Wangji hears Jiang Wanyin whisper to himself in disbelief. 

Wangji can’t help but agree. He can’t imagine living well without his cultivation. It is the very essence of their culture, to lose it would be nothing short of devastating. To lose it during a time that renders them most vulnerable would be even worse.

“No, losing his core didn’t kill him. Shuilan’s seventeen, it’s not long until she’s born in our timeline, but given the suspicious movements of the Wen Sect right now the beginnings of the war are about to happen,” Nie Huaisang says firmly. There is an unusual spark of determination in his eyes that Wangji is not used to from the flippant young master.

“No, losing his core didn’t kill him,” Lan Jingyi looks uncomfortable, Lan Wangji does not envy him. “Apparently all losing his core did was make him more hell bent on stopping the Wen. He was an active participant in the Sunshot Campaign, he just wasn’t fighting on the frontlines.”

“What did he do during the war then?” Jiang Wanyin asks.

“He was an inventor. So he spent his time creating tools to aid soldiers against the Wens. He was a genius so it really helped turn the tide considering the remaining sects before the war were either under the Wen by that point or actively in danger.”

“So he was reduced to a toolmaker. How did he die then if it wasn’t during the war?” Jin Zixuan snaps impatiently wanting to move on from this topic sooner rather than later. While he has no interest in Wei Wuxian, he too was wondering how such a man got himself killed.

“His inventions were the reason that the war was won, don’t be disrespectful,” Lan Jingyi scolds.

The Jin Sect heir huffs but doesn’t argue. Really, how do you argue with recorded proof that the annoying classmate that you’ve had to deal with is apparently an important historical figure.

Lan Jingyi visibly collects himself before speaking again, “He died after he was exiled from the cultivation world.”

“...”

“I’m sorry what?” Wangji isn’t sure who asked this time, his mind is too busy trying to make sense of what has just been said.

“Many of the tools that were created were unorthodox, he created something that didn’t need spiritual energy in order to use, which was essential on the war front,” Lan Jingyi continues.

Exiled? What do you mean he was exiled?

“What the fuck does that mean?”

How could Wei Ying have possibly been exiled?

“He invented a new form of cultivation in order to win the war.”

No. That’s not possible, there’s been a mistake.

“No, you’re lying.”

Lying is forbidden.

“He invented demonic cultivation to win the war.”

Lying is forbidden.

“You’re fucking lying.”

Lying is forbidden.

“You wanted to know, don’t get mad at me for telling you.”

Do not speak falsehoods.

“He wouldn’t! He promised me he wouldn’t!”

Wangji feels the room grow more and more oppressive as it shrinks in on him. He feels unsteady, he needs to sit down, he needs to get out of here. 

“A promise he made before the war I’m sure. His priorities shifted.”

He feels a hand grip his shoulder firmly. He looks to his right and sees his brother with a concerned look on his face as Wangji tunes back into the conversation continuing in front of him.

Both Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin have moved closer to Lan Jingyi, crowding him as if that would change any of the previous information that he’s told them. 

“Wait! So they exiled him for it? After it won them the Sunshot Campaign? Even if it is unorthodox, it was helpful to them. Why didn’t Wei-xiong just stop using it?” the Nie heir asks, his tone edging towards desperation.

“They say it gave him a taste of power and he wanted to take over the cultivation world. A load of shit if you ask anyone who actually knew him,” Lan Jingyi scoffs, likely thinking of his friends. “but that’s what a lot of the public believe. Grandmaster Lan says the resentful energy messed with his mind and it led him to do terrible things. He took the remaining Wens from the Jin and took them to the Burial Mounds.”

“ The Burial Mounds!? ”

“Yes, the Burial Mounds. It’s where Sizhui lived before coming here and it’s where Shuilan was born. ”

“ She was born in the fucking Burial Mounds?! ”

“Yes,” Lan Jingyi answers tiredly, “And now you know why you shouldn’t be asking either of them about their father.”

“How can they miss him so much, after all of that?” Jiang Wanyin breathes out. “Their father was driven to madness when they were toddlers, but you say that they still honour his memory. How do they even remember him?”

“It was a stressful period of their lives, I imagine that makes it memorable on its own. Their father wasn’t mentally well, but from what little either of them told me it seems that raising them actually helped him deal with all of his shit because the man was focused on being a good father to them.”

“What the fuck?” Jiang Wanyin expresses his frustration. 

“Listen,” Lan Jingyi says seriously, “public opinion on Wei Wuxian is contemptuous at best, and actively hostile at worst, but what you need to understand is that Wei Wuxian was a man who was suffering from something that he created to help during the war, and when he lost his purpose it messed him up in the head, and instead of giving him the help he clearly needed, the cultivation world exiled him. Sizhui and Shuilan’s father died unwell and they both remember it. So do not, for any reason, ask them about how he died.”

Lan Wangji isn’t sure how long they all stand there staring at each other before they all eventually nod in acquiescence. The room feels colder than it did earlier. Wangji doesn’t know what to do now, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face Wei Wuxian when they get home. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to look at Shuilan and Sizhui the next time he sees them. 

Their father was exiled and presumably left without anyone to support him when he needed it most. Not the Jiangs who he considers family, and certainly not the Lan if their stance on such heretical practices have stayed the same. All of it begs the question, how did Wangji become the one to raise Wei Ying’s children? 

Lan Jingyi’s shoulders fall as the tension visibly leaves his body. 

“If you guys have any more questions, I’ll answer them but mind what you say,” Lan Jingyi says, more relaxed now than when he first entered the library. Wangji wished he felt the same.

Lan Jingyi would likely not be able to answer his question. He’ll have to go to either Shuilan or Sizhui. He feels his heart drop just at the thought of it.

Nie Huaisnag sighs, “So questions about the Sunshot Campaign are okay?”

“You may ask them but they should not be your main focus, Nie Huaisang.”

Wangji doesn’t jump at the voice but it is a near thing. A testament to just how shaken he is that he didn’t even notice the newcomers enter the library. He finds his bearings quickly and greets them with his brother once they realise who spoke.

“Shufu,” both brothers bow respectfully to their uncle, and the other’s fall in line to greet the Grandmaster.

Grandmaster Lan regards them quietly, Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan flanking him, before directing his attention to Lan Jingyi.

“Lan Jingyi,” the boy rises from his bow to look at his teacher, “I trust that you’ve been conducting yourself properly among our guests.”

Lan Jingyi responds affirmatively and gives the rest of them a warning look. “I was just answering a few questions that they had.”

Lan Wangji spies the raised eyebrow Wei Shuilan shoots at her friend, who doesn’t so much as flinch, while Lan Sizhui maintains his countenance, the twitching of his fingers at his side being the only thing that gives him away.

“I see,” Shufu nods at his student, “The situation must be very disorienting for all of you.”

Lan Xichen is the one that answers, “Indeed. We understand that we shouldn’t know everything, but being offered such limited information did little to reassure us.”

Shufu has a look of understanding on his face. “We hope to solve this problem as swiftly as possible and send you all back to your proper time.”

Nie Huaisang looks a bit put off by that. No doubt the young master wants to milk as much information as he can from whoever will give him the information he wants. 

“That being said, it has come to my attention that we do not exactly know how long your stay will end up being.”

The young heirs, save for the Lans, look to each other with a growing sense of dread. 

“I find it in everyone’s best interest for the young masters to join the classes here with Lan Jingyi and Sizhui so that you do not fall behind in your studies once you have returned to your time.”

Anticipating the complaints, Lan Xichen quickly speaks up, “Shufu, is it not more pertinent to find a solution to our situation? Having all of us helping out would surely be a better use of our time.”

The other young masters nod their heads almost frantically, just falling short of looking desperate. Wangji eyes them disapprovingly.

Grandmaster Lan quirks a brow at this younger version of his eldest nephew. “Which is why you and Wangji will continue to assist in the matter.” The man looks at the non-Lans in the library and addresses them directly. “Realistically how much assistance do you three feel you can provide with this?"

“I beg your pardon, Grandmaster Lan?” Nie Huaisang asks, his face contorted in genuine confusion.

“None of you have any expertise in Talisman Theory, or any training with such irregular array formations.” 

The young masters flinch at their teacher’s bluntness.

“I understand how restless you all are, and while you may be able to provide some assistance you will not be needed for the bulk of the work that needs to be done,” Grandmaster Lan says in a tone that is softer than what either nephew is used to, but no less unyielding in his position. 

Jiang Wanyin slumps in defeat, but there is no arguing with the man who has the most authority among them. Nie Huaisang has an unreadable look in his eye as he nods, while Jin Zixuan also looks indignant at being left out. 

“You three will be joining the regular classes and I will be checking in on your progress as I see fit, as well any additional classes that you would have had at the Guest lectures.”

Lan Jingyi offers them a sympathetic smile. 

Grandmaster Lan addresses the rest of them, “Xichen, Wangji, your assistance will still be needed.”

The two brothers nod at that.

“Shuilan will be in charge of the project and I expect the rest of you to follow her lead.”

While not unexpected, Wangji still finds himself taken aback by the declaration. He is not the only one, as he notices the glare that Jiang Wanyin directs at the girl.

Jingyi and Sizhui have no problem deferring to her as they bow jokingly in her direction, ignoring the blank, unimpressed look on her face.

“Will none of the elders be assisting us?” Lan Xichen asks, a valid question.

If possible Wei Shuilan’s face grows colder. As if sensing this Grandmaster Lan rests a hand on her shoulder without turning away from this younger version of his eldest nephew.

“None of the elders are versed in this matter,” is all the explanation to be had apparently.

“Surely they would still be able to provide some insights?” Lan Xichen says incredulously.

Grandmaster Lan simply shakes his head, “There’s no reason for them to involve themselves in this.”

The Twin Jades of Lan stare at their uncle, baffled by his response. 

“Young masters,” Lan Sizhui speaks for the first time during this exchange, “We are perfectly capable of doing this ourselves.”

The Lan Sect’s future heir smiles at them so confidently Wangji almost thinks that he’s looking at a different young master dressed in darker robes. 

Wei Wuxian has not slept properly in the last three days. It has been three days since the incident and he has not known peace since. 

The good news is he’s figured out how the mechanism for his talisman works, and he is able to send objects both forward and backward in time.

The bad news is he can only send them to himself.

The talisman requires the presence of the energy source that was used in order to anchor itself to different points in a timeline. By this logic Wei Wuxian is able to send even himself to any given point in time, the only requirement is that the Wei Wuxian from that point in time has to be present as well. 

He tested it out with a note.

He sent the note to himself sending it a shichen into the past and received it back with a response from himself that he didn’t have any memory of.

It fucking worked!!

Written in his distinct penmanship, he knew that it was him. 

But having to rely on the presence of his past or future self means that he has no control over the location that someone is sent to, which poses another hurdle to overcome. Wei Wuxian being Wei Wuxian had figured out another solution.

He anchored the object to a specific location. He anchored it to the library and started testing how much energy was needed for different lengths of time. He had tested this one out with Grandmaster Lan, who was working with him to fine tune the time travel talisman. 

When Wei Wuxian sent the note, this time into the future, the response was written in the old man’s pristine calligraphy.

So it worked. Wei Wuxian now had something more concrete to work with only three days after the whole fiasco, and it confirmed two things that he had needed solid evidence of.

The first one was that though time travel was possible, you wouldn’t be able to go into the past to change the present. This meant that there were different timelines, and each time he sent a note into a different point in time, he created a new divergent timeline. With this knowledge both Wei Wuxian and the old man decided that it was best not to send anymore notes until they know for certain it would go exactly where they needed it to, lest they end up creating too many divergent points. 

The second one was that how far someone goes into the past or the future is dependent entirely on how much energy is being used.

Which leads Wei Wuxian to the next set of problems.

He doesn’t know what energy source was used. 

If any outsider was given the opportunity to see what had happened that afternoon in the library (Perhaps a device that records things could be Wei Wuxian’s next project) they would likely think that it was Jiang Wanyin’s spiritual energy that powered the talisman that sent them into the future. It would be the simple answer as the Young Master had been the one holding the talisman before shoving it into Wei Wuxian’s chest and then draining the energy from the activated array formation in order to have enough power to send five people into the future.

Unfortunate that things are rarely ever that simple. 

The thing about talismans is that you don’t activate them by accident. Talisman’s have to be activated with intent, even if the intent is simply to activate it at all. Jiang Cheng was bristling with spiritual energy in response to his anger during the incident, but Wei Wuxian doubted that he was expecting to activate the talisman at all when he was taunting him with it. No, Jiang Cheng had likely not intended to activate it, or maybe he did. 

The problem is that Wei Wuxian doesn’t know for sure. 

If Jiang Cheng did intentionally activate the time travel talisman, then that means that the young masters were probably sent to a future Jiang Cheng. It would mean that they’re all safe at least. If they were sent to the future Jiang Sect then an older, more experienced Wei Wuxian would be able to help them get back. If it was Jiang Cheng’s energy that sent them to the future it makes it harder for the present Wei Wuxian to get them back because there is nothing that is able to function as an anchor, but then they would have other resources and a talisman master to help them get back. Maybe they would even go to the other sects for aid considering that their young masters are also present.

The other option is that it was the array formation’s energy that activated, meaning that it was Wei Wuxian’s spiritual energy that was used to power the talisman inadvertently..

It would be good news. It would mean that Wei Wuxian is the anchor for the talisman and that the young masters were sent directly to future him. If it was Wei Wuxian’s energy that sent them to the future he can use himself as an anchor, and then he would need to figure out just how far into the future he needs to send his instructions to and they would have the same resources available to them in this scenario.

For some reason Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel uneasy about it. 

He doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he’s been away from Yunmeng for too long. Maybe it’s because the Lan Sect has been so generous with him, they’ve been so kind and encouraging about his endeavors. Maybe it’s residual feelings that he felt moments before all of this happened, when Jiang Cheng accused him of disloyalty to the Jiang. 

He’s never felt this way before, but he feels as though his future in the Jiang Sect is uncertain.

If the young masters were sent to a Wei Wuxian who isn’t the Head Disciple of the Jiang Sect, and they come back, if Jiang Cheng comes back after being proven right–

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. 

He can’t allow himself to entertain such thoughts, not now. 

Not when his focus should be completely devoted to bringing them all back safe. 

He packs up his research for today and heads for Lan Qiren’s office. He needs to inform the man of his new findings so that they may decide what to do next. He can’t afford for their progress to stagnate. He doesn’t want to think of what will happen if it does.

Chapter Text

“This is called the Spirit Attraction Flag.”

“Baba invented this!”

“Yes. Your baba invented a lot of the cultivation tools we have now. These especially are commonplace in every sect.”

“Even the Sects that hate him?”

“...Yes, even them.”

“Why?”

“Your baba was a genius, they thought it a waste not to use his inventions even if they were unconventional.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“Which rules, A-yuan?”

“Do not be of two minds.”

“How so?”

“They can’t call his tools and inventions evil, and then use them just because they want to. Either his tools are evil and they shouldn’t use them, or they aren’t and it’s fine to use them. It doesn’t make sense, Granduncle.”

Lan Qiren is silent as his grandnephew looks at him with his little face scrunched up in confusion as he explains his thoughts. He brings a hand to the boy’s head and pats his hair. 

“If only the world were that simple, A-yuan.”

“That will be all for this topic. Before we move onto the next lesson I will be testing you on-”

Jiang Cheng tunes out the rest of Grandmaster Lan’s sentence. 

He shouldn’t be in these classes right now. The fact that his teacher expects him, or any of them, to focus on the lesson is laughable. Who would be able to focus in these circumstances? He, Nie Huaisang, and Jin Zixuan are seated in the back row of the classroom so as to not distract any of the Lan Disciples with their mere presence. He sees Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi in the front row of desks and glares at the back of their heads. They’re not much older than he is but they get to be part of the project that he had essentially been booted out of. 

Jiang Cheng doesn’t get it. He doubts that these two Lan Disciples have any special experience with something as absurd as a time travel talisman, there’s no way that they’re able to meaningfully contribute more than the others would, and yet they are still allowed to help out. The Jiang heir is almost positive that they’re just as lost as the rest of them. 

Another thing that bothers Jiang Cheng about the change in plans is the way that apparently no elders are to be involved in the research. Why would Wei Shuilan be any more useful than an experienced elder?

Okay nevermind, he knows the answer to that. Leave it to Wei Wuxian to produce another fucking genius. 

Wei Shuilan.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to make of her.

He doesn’t know what her problem is, but she clearly has a bone to pick with him in particular (and Jin Zixuan, but nobody likes the Jin anyway so that’s to be expected). Even with her obvious disdain for cultivation sects, including the sect that raised her, whatever issue she has with him is personal. It also probably had something to do with Wei Wuxian. It appears that wanderlust is a hereditary trait after all, nevermind the fact that they should be grateful and devoutly loyal to their sects. 

Wei Wuxian got himself exiled from the Cultivation World, and then got himself killed with no regard for his own children. The story is reminiscent of Wei Wuxian’s own parents, but more incriminating. At least it seems that Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan were saved from having to fend for themselves on the streets. Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand it. Wei Wuxian is her father, sure, but he was also a heretic and there’s no way that she sat through class lectures about cultivation history and immediately took his side in the conflict. Lan Wangji of all people was the one who raised her. That living statue probably made sure she could recite all their ridiculous rules before she had even learned to read properly. How could someone raised by such a strict person end up basically running away from home and living by the Burial Mounds. Lan Sizhui seemed to turn out fine, so what the hell was wrong with Wei Shuilan. (And why would she change her name back to Wei?)

(Jiang Cheng ignores the little voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his A-jie, asking why the Jiang Sect wasn’t the one who took them in after their father died.)

He wants answers, and he sees no reason why he shouldn’t get them. Besides, all Lan Jingyi said was that they shouldn’t ask about Wei Wuxian’s death. That doesn’t mean he can’t ask Wei Shuilan questions about herself. She didn’t seem to inherit Wei Wuxian’s penchant for yapping, but if anything that will make it easier to tell if she’s holding out on him because she won’t be able to distract him with unnecessary words.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he’ll find her during their allotted break time. Even if he won’t be of any help he deserves to at least know what’s going on.

Jiang Cheng comforts himself with the thought as the Lan disciples vacate the room leaving him with his group as they move closer to the front of the classroom, as Lan Qiren prepares his papers for their extra lecture.

“Did you see the way that Young Master Jiang was looking at us?” Jingyi said to Sizhui as soon as they left the classroom with their peers. 

“I was trying not to notice,” admitted Sizhui.

Jingyi hummed in response before speaking again, “I don’t blame him for being upset but there’s no reason to take it out on us.”

Privately Sizhui thought that the young master had no reason to be so angry in the first place. Being upset? Understandable. Being angry? Less so. It’s not so much that Sizhui didn’t understand Jiang Wanyin’s feelings, but the people here were doing their best to get them all back home and yeah there wasn’t much that the young man could contribute himself. The cultivation world has made large enough strides in their understanding of cultivation in the last twenty years that they do not have the time to explain to the time displaced young masters things that are considered common sense now. The only reason Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were still allowed to be involved was because they do need the extra hands and putting them in classes they’ve already tested out of was counterintuitive. Not to mention asking the elder scholars for their assistance would not end well for anyone, but especially the young masters, because the elders would no doubt side track them by arguing with Shuilan and disagreeing with her stance purely on principle. They simply do not have the time for that nonsense, and Sizhui is glad that Granduncle had nipped that problem in the bud, so to speak.

“Hopefully it doesn’t go further than that.”

The walk side by side in silence briefly before Jingyi asks another question.

“How much do you think they’ll learn about our current events?”

Sizhui pauses in his step at that. “What do you mean?”

Jingyi, who had kept walking before realising his friend had stopped, looks back at him. “Well they know about the Sunshot Campaign, and I doubt Young Master Nie won’t have any questions about that.”

Sizhui narrowed his eyes at his friend, “I meant to ask you about that. Why do they know about the Sunshot Campaign?”

“Oh! Um, you see I kind of told them about it,” Lan Jingyi’s voice trails off unsure of his own answer.

“And why would you do that?” Though phrased as a question, it did not sound like one.

“They had some other questions and I couldn’t answer them without bringing up the war.”

“Like what?”

“Just stuff about some new talismans. Most of them were invented during the war so you can’t really explain them without understanding where they came from.”

The two boys face each other on the pathway. Lan Jingyi fidgets under Lan Sizhui’s scrutinizing gaze before the other boy finally lets up. 

“I see,” is all Sizhui says before they start to walk again. Jingyi lets out a quiet breath that he hopes Sizhui didn’t hear. (He did.)

“We should hurry up and see if Shuilan’s figured anything out,” Jingyi says with a forced chuckle.

“Mn.”

They both make it to the library and meet with the rest of their group. Lan Sizhui can’t help but notice his friend's jumpy demeanor during their time there. He most certainly does not miss the shared glances between Jingyi and the other to Lans throughout the rest of the day. Sizhui notes his sister’s questioning gaze directed at Jingyi, which only confirms his suspicions. They discuss the organization of the experimentation trials that need approval by Grandmaster Lan and decide to finish for the day.

Lan Sizhui decides to stay the night at the Jingshi to keep his sister company, and they all part ways to their respective lodgings.

As Lan Jingyi walks ahead to the dormitories, Lan Sizhui resolves to figure out what the other boy is hiding from him.

There is an elder in the library. Cao Xiuming if Lan Wangji has correctly identified her. She is incharge of most of the education on the women’s side of the sect.

The library is a public space even if they have taken it over with their research. It is not a problem for the elder to be here looking through the contents of the library. No, the unsettling thing about this elder is the way that she is watching them work without saying a word beyond acknowledging their greetings to her.

She is watching them with great suspicion. More specifically, she is watching Wei Shuilan.

Wei Shuilan for her part has not paid this elder any more attention after her polite greeting. Lan Wangji wouldn’t say that she is actively avoiding the elder, because there is much to be done today but Shuilan did almost immediately make herself scarce by going into the shelves further into the library, and as far as Wangji remembers, they don’t actually need anything else from the library.

Lan Sizhui seemed to have enough of the elder’s scrutiny.

“Elder Cao,” he called out to get her attention, “is there anything that we can help you with?”

The boy is nothing but polite in his inquiry but Wangji doesn’t think he is imagining the slight impatience that Lan Sizhui is giving off. 

“Not at all, Lan Sizhui,” she responded, “I merely wished to see for myself how this project is going.”

“I see. I hope what you’ve observed has been acceptable,” Lan Sizhui responds with finality, clearly indicating that this elder should leave and he does it so seamlessly. Lan Wangji still instinctively recites the rule about respecting elders in his head. 

The elder merely hums and ignores Lan Sizhui’s subtle dismissal. She continues to look around at what they are doing, and Wei Shuilan comes back with an arm full of scrolls whose content is unknown to Wangji so maybe they did need something from the library after all.

Unfortunately her reappearance makes it clear what the elder was waiting for.

“Wei Shuilan,” Elder Cao says as Shuilan sets down the scrolls onto the table they have been using.

“Yes, Elder Cao?”

“May I have a moment of your time?”

Everything stops for a second, and the next Lan Sizhui is standing in front of his sister blocking her almost completely from the view of Elder Cao.

“What do you need her for, ma’am? We’re a bit busy today,” Lan Sizhui asks. Shuilan peaks over his shoulder to stare back at the elder. 

To her credit, Elder Cao merely raises an eyebrow at the protective display. “I only wanted to speak with my former student, Sect Heir.”

Lan Wangji finds himself watching the interaction with apprehension, and shares a look with his brother. Lan Xichen looks like he’s about to interfere but a shake of the head from Lan Jingyi keeps him in place.

Sizhui goes to respond before he’s stopped by a hand grasping at his sleeve. He turns to his sister who hasn’t looked away from the elder. She steps out from behind him and walks to Elder Cao before stopping directly in front of her.

“Will this take long? We’re meant to start our first trial today,” Shuilan asks with much more patience than her brother.

“Not at all,” the elder responds, face as blank as ever.

Shuilan nods to her and turns back to the rest of the room, “I’ll be back soon. Gege, please make sure the talismans are in order.”

With that she follows Elder Cao out of the library, a hand casually twirling her dizi.

Lan Jingyi makes his way to his friend’s side as Lan Sizhui watches them walk out. 

Lan Xichen clears his throat, “Is everything alright, Sizhui?”

Lan Sizhui’s shoulders slump before taking a seat at the table. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he says unconvincingly.

Lan Jingyi winces at that, “Sizhui.”

“It’s fine, and if it isn’t we’ll tell Grandmaster Lan and he can tell off Elder Cao for us if Shuilan doesn’t do it herself.”

Lan Jingyi sighs before smiling sheepishly at the Twin Jades of Lan. “Sorry about that.” 

“I don’t understand what just happened,” Lan Xichen tells them honestly.

Neither does Wangji, and at this point he’s a little afraid to ask.

“The elders are meddling even after they were told not to involve themselves in our project is what happened,” Lan Jingyi states plainly.

Both brothers look cautiously at Lan Sizhui who is meticulously numbering each talisman and setting them in order of testing before looking through the scrolls that Wei Shuilan had grabbed earlier. His eyes widen and he makes a noise of understanding.

“What are those scrolls for, Sizhui,” Lan Xichen tentatively approaches the boy who will one day be his nephew.

“They’re Shuilan’s old writings on talisman theory. I forgot they were still in the library,” Sizhui doesn’t take his eyes off of the paper even as the rest of them crowd around him to take a look. “She must have grabbed them for reference, to double check that she isn’t overlooking anything.”

“Ah, I thought the script looked familiar,” added Lan Jingyi.

“She wrote all of this herself?” Wangji asks. He’s impressed by the sheer amount of scrolls just for basic talisman theory. While Lan Wangji is an intelligent young man he would never refer to himself as a scholar, and perhaps this is where the difference in ambitions lie.

“It’s only considered basic because she got it added to the new curriculum a few years ago,” Lan Sizhu clarifies. “I don’t think any of this is taught outside of the Lan Sect.”

Wangji and Xichen nod as if they understand. 

“Makes sense to have them here,” Jingyi shrugs. “Better to have all of our bases covered.”

Lan Sizhui hums as he sets them back down neatly. 

Lan Xichen clears his throat to grab their attention.

“You seemed a bit stressed at the arrival of the elder,” he begins carefully. “Is there any reason that Wei Shuilan shouldn’t be speaking with that elder?”

“There’s no reason for Elder Cao to speak with Shuilan,” Sizhui states firmly. “She’s made her opinions clear, there’s no reason to repeat them.”

“I doubt Elder Cao sought her out just to repeat herself,” Jingyi says. “She’s probably going to try to convince Shuilan to let the elders in on her work.”

“That’s worse,” Sizhui deadpans.

“Young masters,” Lan Xichen interjects, and Wangji can tell from the strain in his brother’s smile that the older boy is about to ask something neither young master is going to like very much. “Is there really any reason to keep the elders away from our work?”

Both boys whip their heads towards the younger version of their sect leader. Lan Jingyi gives him a warning look as he shifts his eyes towards Sizhui. 

Sizhui looks calmly at them.

“The elders have a history of opposing ideas they do not agree with even if said ideas are worth trying,” he says evenly. “Having the elders here would merely slow our progress down. That’s why Granduncle decided to leave Shuilan in charge. This situation we are in is unprecedented and relies on unconventionality in order to accomplish our goal; the elders wouldn’t be helpful.”

Lan Xichen is speechless. 

Lan Wangji wonders when the elders became so petty, and why Lan Sizhui seems to have so little trust for them. 

“I don’t remember Elder Cao being quite so pushy in our time,” Lan Xichen asks for further clarification. “She means to convince Shuilan to change Shufu’s mind?”

“Most likely,” Lan Jingyi answers. “Though with all due respect, Lan-da-gongzi, she is the head of the women’s section of the sect. She’s going to push her luck with the women rather than the men of the sect. Grandmaster Lan isn’t going to budge, so they’re deciding to go after Shuilan directly.”

Lan Sizhui scoffs in an uncharacteristic manner at that. “If they think they can strong arm her into doing what they want they don’t understand her at all. She left for a reason and she’s not a child anymore,” he mutters.

“It has been three years since they’ve seen her,” Lan Jingyi muses aloud.

Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji share another look, debating on whether or not they should ask more questions. The four young masters simply sit in silence while waiting for Shuilan to come back so that they may actually start testing the talismans. Lan Jingyi pats his friend’s shoulder while his other hand fiddles with the papers on the table.

“-have any other questions feel free to take them up with Grandmaster Lan.” Shuilan’s voice grows louder as she comes into view with Elder Cao trailing after her a bit frantically, clearly unhappy with the result of their conversation.

It occurs to Wangji that the children that his future self had raised are very different from any idea of children that he ever thought he’d have. One child is more expressive and friendly than he’d ever thought a son of his could be, and the other pursues a life so free of restraints despite being so similar to him in temperament. He looks at them and he sees Wei Ying.  

“Lan Shuilan!”

The temperature in the room seems to drop. 

“I don’t think you understand,” Elder Cao says, either not noticing or not caring for the change in atmosphere. “Surely you see the necessity in allowing a few of us to observe your progress.”

Shuilan stops abruptly and turns to her former teacher. “And what exactly would we gain from that?” She doesn’t allow the elder to respond before speaking again. “There is nothing to gain from having unnecessary supervision, and if you have a problem with that then you should take your complaints to Grandmaster Lan because I am not changing my mind. We may be in Cloud Recesses but I am no longer a Lan; my work is my own. You may have access to it once we have sent the young masters back to their time if Grandmaster Lan permits it.”

”And my name is Wei Shuilan.”

Elder Cao’s expression had grown more pinched as Shuilan spoke, but did not refute her. Instead the elder nodded stiffly and made her way out of the library, though in the opposite direction of Shufu’s personal study.

Shuilan sighs and turns back to them. “We should warn Granduncle about them before they schedule a meeting with him.”

The rest of their session goes on without any further interruptions, and Lan Wangji finds himself in awe of how smoothly it went. 

“Okay I think we’re done for today,” Shuilan says, satisfied with the results. 

They were able to deduce the talisman design that had most likely been used by Wei Ying, and rather than the emphasis on time, they had used talismans containing characters related to travel, but the radical for wind seemed to be just as effective. The time component was the easiest to incorporate simply by adding the character for time, and drawing the strokes in reverse order to indicate traveling backwards in time rather than forward. Wangji had never thought that the order of strokes used to draw a character would matter this much as a mechanism of action for a talisman, his brother equally baffled by the development. 

“I’ll have to start working on a design for a physical anchor so we don’t have to rely so much on a specific person in order to control where people end up in time. It should be connected to the library itself so that we can stick to transportation between different points in time within a single location,” Shuilan thinks aloud. “For now we should probably clean up.”

They all nod and start to tidy the papers that have ended up on the floor due to the slight backlash of energy. Anything sent forward or backward further in time is likely to result in a larger energy output in response to the amount of energy needed for the desired distance. As they put their corner of the library back in order the sound of footsteps approaches them and a junior disciple is bowing to them, eyes lingering on Lan Wangji and his brother, then turning his attention to Lan Sizhui.

“Lan Boyu,” Sizhui greets. The boy seems to be part of Sizhui and Jingyi’s cohort. 

“Shixiong, I’d advise you to go speak with Grandmaster Lan before the end of today,” Lan Boyu says seriously. His voice wavers slightly as he keeps his eyes trained on the boy in front of him. 

Lan Sizhui frowns, “Is there any particular reason for that?”

The junior disciple tenses, trying not to fidget. “This one overheard a few of the elders. They are going to request a meeting with Grandmaster Lan, demanding they take over the work required to send the other young masters back to their time.” His eyes darted quickly to Wei Shuilan who doesn’t look surprised. 

Lan Sizhui’s expression grows cold and Lan Wangji thinks that this is the most like him his son has ever looked. Behind him Lan Jingyi looks at his fellow disciple and thanks him for the warning.

Wei Shuilan doesn’t sigh but her shoulders still slump in disappointment as she rises from the floor getting ready to head for Shufu’s study. She is stopped by Lan Sizhui who gently pushes her back with a worried look on his face. 

“Jingyi and I will go talk to Granduncle,” he says soothingly, “You go have lunch with Lan-da-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi. You’ve been working yourself to the bone, let me handle this..”

Wei Shuilan looks like she wants to protest but thinks better of it. She nods her head and Sizhui begins to walk away with Jingyi.

“Actually Sizhui,” Lan Xichen says before the two boys get too far. “May I come with you? They may change their minds if one of us says something.” Us being the time travelers. Wangji agrees, and it’s better if they take care of this before the other young masters find out and do something themselves.

Sizhui nods in acceptance. His brother pats him on the back and the three of them make their way out. Wangji notices that Lan Boyu is still here and the boy jumps when he sees the younger version of Hanguang-jun looking at him.

“Oh! Greetings Han- um, Lan-er-gongzi,” he stutters out, hands cupped together in a respectful salute. Wangji returns his greeting, but notes that once the boy straightens his posture he isn’t looking at Wangji anymore. Instead Lan Boyu’s gaze keeps straying to Wei Shuilan while simultaneously avoiding her eyes.

“Was there anything else, Lan-gongzi?” she asks politely, looking tired.

“Ah yes!” Lan Boyu winces at his own volume, his cheeks turning red. He clears his throat before speaking again, “You’re Wei-guniang, right?”

“Just Shuilan is fine,” she responds in lieu of answering properly. It should be obvious that she is not one for formalities, no question where she got it from, but Lan Wangji still has to fight down the wave of disapproval that surges through him. If Hanguang-jun has no problem with it, what right does Wangji have to say anything? 

The Lan disciple’s face burns brighter at that, and a part of Lan Wangji is a little relieved that the sect still does maintain proper decorum with people outside of their family, it’s just Wangji’s family that’s a bit odd.

“O-okay, um, Shuilan,” Wangji’s starting to feel bad for this boy. “I just wanted to ask you about, um, well you see-”

The boy keeps stuttering until Wangji can’t take it anymore.

“Speak clearly,” and quickly, he finishes in his head as he sees Shuilan in his peripheral vision, who clearly needs a nap. 

Lan Boyu’s spine straightens, feeling chastised by the younger version of his teacher, and he steels himself to look directly at Wei Shuilan, who for her part had been waiting patiently for the young master to find his words. “Right. Um, I wanted to ask if you would be amendable to having tea with me tomorrow afternoon.”

Wangji is shocked by this, and feels as though he should not be here playing spectator. 

“May I ask why, gongzi?” Wangji wonders if she is really that calm or if, like Hanguang-jun, she’s just good at masking it.

“I’ve read your writings on musical cultivation,” Lan Boyu explains. “about the ways in which imbuing spiritual or ambient energy into the material of an instrument before you fashion it into the spiritual instrument makes it a better cultivation tool for beginners. I’d like to be a luthier in the future and I find your insights on the subject fascinating.”

Shuilan looks at the young master as if taking him in properly for the first time. She nods at the young man and his face brightens before he coughs, clearly trying to cover his excitement. 

“Would the second hour of wei shi be alright?” he asks a little too loud and visibly delighted.

Wei Shuilan's face softens into a small smile at his enthusiasm, “Yes, that’s fine. I look forward to our discussion.” She cups her hands and bows indicating the end of the conversation. Lan Boyu bows back and bows again to Lan Wangji. He leaves the library at a decidedly controlled pace to make up for his newfound spirit.

“Nice to know that they didn’t purge my work from the curriculum after all,” Shuilan whispers, most likely to herself. 

“Learning comes first,” Wangji recites automatically.

Shuilan turns to him with squinted eyes before huffing amusedly, “Yes, I suppose it does.”

She turns around to grab her papers before gesturing for him to walk alongside her. Wangji falls in step beside her as they make their way out of the library. 

“I’m going to put these in the Jingshi first. You can head to the dining pavilion if you want,” she suggests to him as they reach the diverging pathway.

Lan Wangji thinks about it. It is not uncommon for him to dine by himself, but he’d rather not be ogled at while he tries to eat nor is he in the mood to eat in the unfamiliar walls of his guest room. His stomach churns in discomfort at the thought. He would rather walk Shuilan to the Jingshi and then go to the dining pavilion together, and he says as much to her. 

Shuilan nods a bit hesitant and Wangji is suddenly his with the worry that perhaps she said that as a way to get rid of him politely, but she smiles and nods at him again before walking along the path to the residential area. They walk at a sedate pace in comfortable silence. Wei Shuilan is carrying several scrolls in her arms, the binded text containing the array formation, along with the parchment containing her notes for today. Wangji thinks about offering to carry them for her but she seems like the type to keep the things she finds important close to her chest, literally in this case. Wangji still doesn’t know how he should be interacting with her and Sizhui. It feels strange to see people who know so much about him, who were mere strangers to him a few days ago.

“May I ask you something?” Lan Wangji decides to take a page out of Nie Huaisang’s book.

Wei Shuilan turns her head in indication that she is listening, but stays silent. Is this what it’s like for others when they speak to him?

“You haven’t taken many texts from the library,” Wangji leads with, “I understand that there won’t be much that can help us directly, but how are you differentiating what is useful and what isn’t?”

Shuilan lets out a contemplative hum as she looks down at the materials in her hold, “I think I’m just guessing really.”

That earns her a look of disbelief.

“What?” she huffs at him, “I’m serious. This is some crazy stuff we’re trying to accomplish here and you think you’ll be able to find some sort of guideline in the library for it?”

“...Not a guideline.”

“There’s almost nothing in the library that will help us,” she states with full confidence. “I would know. I practically lived in it when I was still a disciple.”

Lan Wangji feels like he had a misstep at the reminder that the daughter that Hanguang-jun had lovingly raised decided to leave her sect behind. 

“Sizhui speaks quite highly of you,” Lan Wangji says, a little unsure where he wants this conversation to go. “He says that you’re more accomplished than him”

“Hm. Depends on how you define accomplished, I suppose,” Shuilan responds, unbothered.

“You do not agree?” Wangji asks.

“He’s my big brother,” she shrugs, as if that was the obvious answer. “I think it’s gonna be a very long time until I don’t feel like I’m constantly looking up at him.” They’re quiet for a moment to let the weight of her statement settle in. “Metaphorically anyway, I don’t think we’ll ever be eye level in that sense.”

Lan Wangji huffs a little breath, which for anyone else  would have been a chuckle, and thinks that he understands how she feels in that regard.

“You care very much for him,” Wangji feels the need to voice. Wei Shuilan looks at him like he’s being silly for saying something so obvious.

“There’s things where I surpass him in ability either due to skill or experience, but the same can be said for him. His sword cultivation is stronger than mine, he’s better with people than I am, and he has a certain air about him that inspires the people around him to be better. He’s also much better at staying clear headed in stressful situations than I do.”

Wangji recalls Lan Sizhui practically breaking down the door to her home at the thought of something happening to his younger sister and thinks that the two siblings may be more alike than either of them think. Even just now, Lan Sizhui didn’t exactly exude calmness. Wangji keeps this to himself.

“Mn,” Wangji hums noncommittally. “At the inn.”

“Ha! Yeah that’s a great example. Although I will maintain that it was a tactical decision to behave that way. At least until Jiang-gongzi said something about my father’s sword.”

“Mn?”

“Sect cultivators are not often kind to us lowly rogues,” she says jokingly before her tone gains an edge to it. “People know what Suibian looks like and seeing it in the possession of some nameless cultivator has people talking. Especially because everyone knows it sealed itself when my father-” she stops abruptly before clearing her throat. Wangji can guess what she was about to say. 

“Anyways,” she continues, “I actually have a covering for Suibian's sheath that I use when I travel. I'll have to use it when I go back to the village otherwise people might give me some trouble if they see it. The Jin especially have been giving me a hard time despite the fact that I only show up after they decide a case isn’t worth their time and effort. The best way to get them off my back in such situations is acting arrogantly because they don’t take women seriously anyway. They think I’ll get myself killed and then they won’t have to deal with me anymore. It doesn’t hurt that people tend to loosen their tongues when they’re pissed off, so I get a decent amount of information that way.” She adjusts her hold on the papers in her arms as the wind blows, tousling them slightly. “At the inn I thought I could get Young Master Jin to slip up about what the five of you were doing so far from official sect lands by basically getting him offended enough to be defensive about it.”

As the Jingshi comes into view Wangji ponders that thought for a moment. So she didn’t think that they were necessarily up to anything nefarious, but wanted confirmation that they weren’t via defensive tirade about it. It probably would’ve worked if they didn’t get derailed by Suibian.

"You did not have Suibian covered at the inn."

"I tend not to when I know I'm not traveling very far," she says casually. As if it were a completely normal precaution to take when venturing out nighthunting, as if it's fine that she is more danger when running into sect cultivators than the beasts and corpses that she hunts.

Lan Wangji has known that the Jin are not as honourable as they pretend to be, and it must show through his expression because Shuilan chuckles at him. Lan Wangji’s face is often described as cold, unflinching, and completely devoid of emotion. To be read so easily by someone other than his brother is an odd experience but he cannot find it in himself to mind. Wei Shuilan is, for all intents and purposes, his future daughter. Of course she would have learned to read the man who raised her, no matter how stone faced he is.

“Even before the burial mounds shifted, many villages could only rely on a wandering cultivator or two because they’re just too far out of reach from any sect. Although it has gotten better with the Watchtowers that the new Chief cultivator has put up, the same can’t be said for the areas around the burial mounds because the cultivators still think that the land is cursed.”

Lan Wangji lets the confusion show on his face.

“We are cultivators. We are trained to deal with such things.”

Wei Shuilan nods solemnly at him, “One would like to think so, but the situation when the Burial Mounds first moved was quite traumatic,” she turns over another talisman, marking it then setting it aside on top of the stack she’s organizing. “The sects’ reluctance to go near the Burial Mounds is also partly due to superstition. There was a man who was once said to have tamed it, and they believed that the sentience of the Burial Mounds was a curse of his doing as one final act of revenge against the Cultivation World.”

Yes, the Burial Mounds. It’s where Sizhui lived before coming here and it’s where Shuilan was born.

Lan Jingyi’s voice echoes in Lan Wangji’s mind as he listens to Shuilan’s explanation of the future Cultivation Sects’ cowardice. He feels his gut churn hearing this story while she’s none the wiser about the information her friend gave them. They enter the Jingshi and he lets the familiarity of the house comfort him. 

“You do not agree with them.”

The smile he gets is the most genuine one he’s gotten from her yet as if she’s recalling fond memories of the corpse mountain, and for all Lan Wangji knows she very well may be. 

“No. I do not.”

The serenity of the Jingshi doesn’t feel as cold, though Wangji still feels wrongfooted knowing what he knows about Wei Ying now. He redirects his thoughts. Wangji wonders what it must have been like as a child in the Burial Mounds, and why she would choose to return to it. Even the most dutiful of cultivators would not dedicate themselves to such a pursuit. He just needs to muster the courage to ask her about it.

Shuilan sets down the materials and organizes them on what Lan Wangji recognizes as his work desk. He takes the time to let his eyes roam around his future self’s home. There are more scrolls and books on his shelf, and several paintings that weren’t there before, but there is one thing that he cannot take his eyes off of.

In the corner of his study, next to a window with burnt incense sticks that have yet to be replaced with new ones is a small altar. Behind the incense burner is a memorial tablet inscribed with Wei Ying’s name, the names of his children, but what draws Wangji’s attention is the title that is inscribed.

Wei Wuxian, The Light.

We match, embarrassingly is Lan Wangji’s first thought. The second is the realization that Shuilan has noticed his staring.

“We thought it was fitting to give him a title that matched Hanguang-jun’s,” her face the picture of melancholy as she looks at the little shrine in her father’s home. “There’s something I want to share with you, about your future self.”

Wangji inclines his head to her.

“But I do not wish to burden you with it,” Shuilan’s face looks so open and honest, and it is such a difference from how she conducts herself within the group that Wangji almost feels guilty. He is not her father, not yet, and if Wangji is able to do anything for Wei Ying, he may never be. This affection and openness that she feels towards him is misplaced and he is using it to gain information that would otherwise not be freely given.

It makes him feel sick. 

“I don’t know if it will help or hurt you,” she says, no longer smiling, but the warmth in her gaze is still present.

Wangji says nothing.

Shuilan sighs before repeating herself, “I do not wish to burden you with it, but I find that I still want you to have it.”

“You do not have to tell me anything,” Wangji replies. “Whatever I learn of the future, I only want it if it is freely given, if you feel it is in our best interest to know it.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Shuilan laughed, though Wangji didn’t understand what was so funny. He felt a bit self-conscious as she smiled so brightly at him, the same expression on her face as Wei Ying when he was laughing with his friends. 

“I didn’t think Hanguang-jun was lying to me when he said he was more severe as a child, but to see it in person is something else,” she rushes to reassure him. 

The guilt from earlier stabs him in the chest with a vengeance. He forces himself to face her in repentance, not allowing himself the respite of avoiding her eyes. She quickly gathers her composure and clears her throat before speaking.

“Lan-er-gongzi,” her voice steady and even, “I bet you’re wondering why it is that you were the one who took me and my brother in.”

Wangji feels his tongue grow heavy. “Mn.”

Wei Shuilan speaks so gently, as if raising her voice any louder would startle him like a baby animal. “Hanguang-jun loved my baba very much, and that is why he was the one who raised his children.”

Lan Wangji feels the air leave his lungs at the confirmation of his future self’s feelings.

“And my baba loved him just as much,” she finishes with a whisper, so quiet that without his cultivation he would not have heard it, eyes so earnest as she spoke.

If he had been told this sooner, he would feel nothing but happiness. Happiness that his feelings were not but a path filled with loneliness reaching out for a dream that would never come to fruition.

The bile climbs up his throat and he feels nothing but sick to his stomach at the thought of his future self abandoning Wei Ying despite the fact that they loved each other.

Because Wei Ying was spurned by the Cultivation World and died alone leaving his children the only thing left of him. There was no question as to why Hanguang-jun was the one who raised Sizhui and Shuilan.

He did it out of guilt. 

He did it because he failed his beloved.

He did it because there was nothing else that he could do for Wei Ying, for he had let him die. 

He stares at the altar and feels as an irrational anger at Hanguang-jun. This. This is all he could do for the man that he loved.

Wangji doesn’t know what his face is doing but Shuilan quickly moves to his side and catches him before he falls over. The information leaving him disoriented enough to lose strength in his legs.

“Lan-er-gongzi! Are you alright?” Shuilan’s youthful face marred with concern.

And that is just it. Shuilan is only seventeen. Wei Ying died when she was a toddler, she doesn’t have any memories of her own to confirm that Wei Ying truly did feel that way about him. And if he did, there was still enough doubt for him to pursue another rather than to stay with Hanguang-jun. Perhaps Wei Ying’s future self had spoken fondly of Hanguang-jun, perhaps Hanguang-jun himself had gone to the Burial Mounds to see Wei Ying even though he had no right to do so and Shuilan had seen them interact and come to that conclusion herself. But there is no way that she could know for sure and there is no way that she would have such a clear memory of it. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice full of regret, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” Wangji says quickly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’ve only just met Wei Wuxian,” Shuilan counters, “it was too soon to dump that on you.”

Wangji opens his mouth to object, that no actually– you were absolutely correct in your assumption that I’m completely in love with your father– but can’t find the words to reassure her.

“Hanguang-jun always said that it was love at first sight for him,” Shuilan fills the silence, and Wangji feels his ears warm at the admission, “I guess I just wanted to believe him.” 

Lan Wangji had never resented his own reticence than he did in this moment as this person who clearly thinks the world of him, of who he could be , creates a distance between them because she thinks that she’s made him uncomfortable. 

“It was comforting, knowing that someone loved my father just as much as me and my brother did while he was alive.” 

She gives him one last apologetic smile before she begins to walk to out of the Jingshi. Wangji has no other choice but to follow her in silence to the dining pavilion.

Wangji wants to cry. He wants to chase down Hanguang-jun and scream obscenities at him. To ask him why? How could he let that happen?

When they finish eating and part ways, Wangji goes back to his guest room feeling more alone than he’d felt in a rather long time, not even his guqin to keep him company.

Jiang Cheng is tired. Grandmaster Lan has decided that their understanding of certain subjects didn’t meet his standards and especially not as sect heirs. Jiang Cheng swears he heard the old man mutter something under his breath, “No wonder they turned out that way.” Jiang Cheng has never felt so insulted in his life. 

He thinks the old man is being unfair. His standards have clearly changed over the last twenty years because his grades were perfectly acceptable a few weeks ago. Especially if the new standard is Wei Wuxian’s kids.

He sets aside his frustrations with his teacher to focus on a new objective. Find Wei Shuilan and bother her until she gives him answers.

Now, Jiang Cheng is not cruel. He won’t be asking any questions that could lead to Wei Wuxian’s untimely demise, but he is going to ask about her, and why she’s clearly has a problem with him and the Jiang Sect. He’ll bribe her with stories of her deceased father if he has to. 

Unfortunately she isn’t in any of the places that Jiang Cheng has immediate access to. She isn’t in the library, he can’t go to the Jingshi without an invitation, and if she’s in some sort of meeting with Grandmaster Lan or some other people then he can’t very well go barging in on that. 

Jiang Cheng is left wandering aimlessly around the Cloud Recesses, and he only has so much time before Nie Huaisang starts to wonder where he is after telling them to go ahead without him.

That’s when he hears it. The sound of a dizi being played, and he remembers the red lacquered instrument that Wei Shuilan carries with her more than her sword.

He follows the sound to an empty pavilion. Standing alone skillfully playing a melody that Jiang Cheng doesn’t recognize is Wei Shuilan. The soft breeze acting as accompaniment to her song as her qi seems to dance around her. Jiang Cheng is hit with a wave of spiritual energy so strong it almost stops him in his steps. This is a complete contrast from when they had followed her to the Jingshi thinking they could get away with it due to her lower cultivation prowess. Now he wonders if she had just not cared that she was being followed.

Before Jiang Cheng can make his presence known he sees in his peripheral another person approaching and hides behind a pillar instinctively.

Zewu-jun walks up to the scene with a serene smile, taking in the sight of his niece displaying her talent. She finishes her song before looking at him and respectfully cupping her hands and bowing so low one would think they weren’t family. Zewu-jun seems to notice this as well.

“You’re playing has gotten much stronger,” he compliments her, “You really have grown so much in your time away from home.”

Jiang Cheng catches the way Wei Shuilan tenses at the word home. 

 “Shuilan, the restaurant we used to frequent introduced a new dish to their menu. Perhaps we could go down to Caiyi tomorrow and try it.”

Wei Shuilan says nothing. 

Zewu-jun’s smile falters, giving way too a frown before re-composing himself. He clears his throat, “We could take out the young masters with your gege and Jingyi. I’m sure they would appreciate taking a break from our meals.”

Shuilan continues to stare unblinkingly at him before finally nodding.

Zewu-jun’s smile brightens and his shoulders relax. Jiang Cheng wonders what had happened between them for Zewu-jun, the leader of the sect, to be so encouraged by such a half hearted gesture. It’s interesting to see considering the fact that Wei Shuilan has no issues with the other people in her family, hell she even seems to like the old man just fine. But Zewu-jun has not been given the same grace. The atmosphere around the two is odd, not hostile but definitely not welcoming either. Perhaps it’s because she takes so much after Lan Wangji, but even then she should still show the Sect Leader more respect than she’s giving him now. 

It’s clear that Zewu-jun wants to say more but Shuilan’s lack of response is making it difficult for him. The two remain at this strange impasse for so long that Jiang Cheng almost abandons his goal of getting more information.

Zewu-jun’s frustration wins out first. “Shuilan, for how much longer will you be angry with me?.”

Shuilan looks down at her feet, in defiance? In shame? Jiang Cheng can’t tell, “I don’t know, but I imagine it will be a long time.”

Zewu-jun looks at her, pained. “Shuilan. I understand that I upset you the last time we talked, but do you not think that this is an overreaction?”

Jiang Cheng winces and he can almost see A-jie's disapproval in his head at the words. He’s reminded of his father’s passive way of dealing with, or not dealing with, conflict and feels his chest tighten at the reminder that his own father can’t be bothered to understand his feelings.

Shuilan does not move, she’s so still one would think she was a statue.

“Is that what you think this is about?”

The air is chilled by her voice, the frigid wind carrying her question through the pavilion despite how quietly she had spoken. Zewu-jun looks as lost as Jiang Cheng feels.

“I left so long ago, I shouldn’t have expected you to remember.” Jiang Cheng is struck by how bitter she sounds.

Clarity seems to wash over Zewu-jun as his confused expression morphs into one of anguish.

“Shuilan, please,” the man pleads. “That was years ago.”

“All I know for certain is that I do not want to be alone with you, and I do not want to be in a situation where I cannot avoid you.”

The involuntary intake of breath is loud enough for Jiang Cheng to hear clearly despite how far away he is. Shuilan may have Hanguang-jun’s penchant for being blunt and sparing with his words, but she’s clearly got Wei Wuxian’s shamelessness as well. What a bad combination of traits that makes for a person.

Zewu-jun repeats her name almost desperately, clearly wanting to reach out but keeping one arm firmly behind his back. “I’m sorry. Please Shuilan, I’m your Bofu,” had he been anyone else, Jiang Cheng thinks his voice would have broken.

“I wish you weren’t,” Shuilan whispers. “It would make it easier to hate you.”

Zewu-jun’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, his expression equal parts furious and heartbroken. “And sometimes I wish you weren’t so honest.”

“Lying is forbidden,” She retorts just as softly as he did. 

“I’m sorry,” Zewu-jun sighs, “I will leave you to your work.”

Zewu-jun exits the pavilion with just as much grace as he entered it with. No one would have been able to guess the conversation that had just transpired between him and the niece that he clearly cares deeply for. Wei Shuilan sits back down, holding herself with perfect posture once the Lan Sect Leader was no longer within sight. 

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do now. 

Unluckily for him, the decision is not his to make.

“You can come out now.”

Well shit.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng contemplates simply pretending that he didn’t hear her and running away, except he hears the obnoxious laughter of a certain someone in the back of his mind mocking him for hesitating and decides fuck that, and comes out from his hiding place behind the pillar. 

He doesn’t speak first. Jiang Cheng waits to see if she’ll say anything to him about what he just witnessed, to tell him to keep quiet—unlikely—or to explain what just happened between her and her uncle—even less likely. 

As expected she does neither. 

“Shouldn’t you be eating lunch at the dining pavilion, Jiang-gongzi?” she says passively but somehow Jiang Cheng feels like she’s staring into the very depths of his soul. One would assume it was a trick she had learned from Lan Wangji, but Jiang Cheng has seen the way that Wei Wuxian stares down his Jiang shidi when they’ve gone against his instructions. Even without the smile it has the same effect. 

“I could say the same to you,” he snipes back, but lacking in any actual bite. He feels like crawling out of his skin. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped but he can’t take back what he did now.

“I already ate,” is the placid response. She walks past him and he thinks that she might just walk away but is proven wrong when she simply sits down by one of the pillars. Jiang Cheng recognizes the meditative stance before she closes her eyes and takes deep controlled breaths. 

“Did you actually eat, or did you just pick at your food after you only finished half your soup?” If she had inherited her other father’s taste then it was no wonder she couldn’t finish her meals. Seems that nature won over nurture in this department. 

“Did you need something?” she asked, dodging the question entirely, eyes still closed because of course they were. What better time to begin meditation than when someone is trying to speak to you. 

Jiang Cheng fights the urge to roll his eyes even if she won’t see it. He has the feeling that she’d still know and offending her won’t get him anywhere.  

“Yeah actually,” he starts, “I had some questions I wanted to ask you.”

Wei Shuilan’s face does not change as she gestures for him to sit in front of her. Jiang Cheng awkwardly sat down, his posture stiff as he realized that he was preparing himself for more of a fight.

“You’re a Lan,” he almost derides.

“Was. I was a Lan,” she corrects with the ease of someone who’s used to repeating the phrase. Her voice airy as she enters a meditative trance. 

“Whatever, you’re a Lan in all the ways that matter considering you haven’t been banished from the sect and you still talk to your family”

She doesn’t say anything to that but she does open her eyes, probably wondering what Jiang Cheng’s point was. 

“I just,” he stutters out. “Why? Why was Lan Wangji the one to take you and your brother in after Wei Wuxian died?”

Her expression softened in surprise, not expecting this to be what the young master wanted to know about. 

“He asked him to.”

“What?”

“My Baba asked Hanguang-jun to take me and my brother in should anything ever happen to him.” Shuilan is no longer attempting to meditate, instead sitting more comfortably with her arms crossed over her shin, a leg propped up to allow her to rest her chin on it. She holds her dizi loosely in her right hand, and up close Jiang Cheng sees for himself the red lacquered bamboo instrument. He expected jade if he was honest, and a white colour like the other flutes he’s seen Lan disciples carry around with them. The Jiang Heir wonders if this was but another decision to separate herself from her sect. He allows his eyes to trail down the spiritual instrument and finds his attention abruptly drawn elsewhere. 

Jiang Cheng realizes in this moment that she isn’t wearing proper robes.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“I like pants,” she says, like it makes perfect sense, nonplussed by the abrupt change in subject. 

“Lan Wangji let you wear pants?”

She blows a puff of air through her nose, “Hanguang-jun let me travel on my own at fourteen. You think he cares what I wear as long as I’m fully clothed?”

Jiang Cheng continues to frown at her.

“I’ve been wearing pants since the first time we met at the inn,” she squints at him like she’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Are you just now noticing?”

In truth he had noticed but hadn’t really noticed the significance of it. That first day at the inn he thought her to be a some kind of rogue cultivator, and even after realising she was Wei Wuxian’s daughter he still didn’t think much of it at the time because he was more focused on the fact that the other boy had fucking died. As he thought it over those first few days he merely thought that she had decided to live as some kind of commoner for whatever reason after her father died, so naturally her clothes would be of poorer quality and resembling that of someone with no particular standing in society. 

But no.

Wei Shuilan was Gusu Lan’s former Xiaojie.

She would have grown up with, probably not lavish because of the Lan’s rules against ostentatious displays, but equally exceptionally made clothes that had to withstand the biting cold of Gusu’s mountain. There is absolutely no way that Shuilan did not at least look the part of a cultivation sect’s young mistress even if she didn’t act like one. 

He is so confused right now. He could see Wei Wuxian letting his daughter get away with something like that, in fact the female disciples of the Jiang Sect are given a choice between more traditional disciple dress or simple dresses so as not to impede their movement during training, but the Lan? The women of the sect aren’t even allowed in the same classes unless they’re advanced enough, let alone allowed to wear whatever they want. Yet here was the Lan Sect’s former Xiaojie completely disregarding social norms, doing whatever she wants, and her family lets her. He’d expect them to be horrified that their young lady is constantly spitting on longstanding propriety and tradition. Jiang Cheng doesn’t get it. He would have at least thought they would have her wearing proper dresses while she was staying in Cloud Recesses, but other than a few disapproving looks from the elders, no one seems to care. Maybe that’s why they let her go. She couldn’t embarrass the sect with her eccentricities (clearly couldn’t marry her off) if she’s out gallivanting around the Jianghu looking like the average common girl, and no one would ever make the connection in the first place.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head and decides that it’s none of his business how Gusu Lan deals with their strange Xiaojie. 

“How did he know?”

“Know what?”

“How did Wei Wuxian know that Lan Wangji would take care of you two.”

“That’s a personal question; you’d have to ask Hanguang-jun.”

Jiang Cheng grimaces. He’d have better luck asking a wall.

“I can’t believe you’re the daughter of the Second Jade of Lan,” he mutters to himself.

“Hanguang-jun goes wherever the chaos is, so I feel like I’m following his example quite well actually,” she says casually.

Seriously, what the fuck. How much can a person change in one lifetime?

“I just can’t see Wei Wuxian being okay with his kids being raised in a sect with three thousand rules,” he stubbornly asserts.

“Four thousand.”

It takes a second for him to make sense of the interjection. You can’t be serious, “Fuck no,” Jiang cheng says emphatically.

“Over four thousand actually; I don’t know the exact number. You’ll have to ask someone who lives here, or just ask during your class,” her eyes twinkle with amusement. “I’m sure Grandmaster Lan would be happy to inform you.”

The only heir of the Jiang Sect decides that he hates it here. “That just proves my point. Wei Wuxian is trouble personified, why would he ask the Lan to take you in.” Wei Wuxian, who talks back to authority figures, who acts like a child when it suits him, who always flirts with vendors and pretty girls just because he can. Wei Wuixan, who is as reckless as he is foolish, who doesn’t take care of himself, who doesn’t think things through, or decides that the consequences don’t matter when he does. How can someone like him look at the Lan Sect and the rigid, unyielding reality of such a life and think that that is what he wants for his children. How could he choose the Cloud Recesses over Lotus Pier? 

Wei Shuilan is starting to look bored of the conversation. “He wanted someone he trusted to take us in.”

Jiang Cheng feels as though he’d been slapped across the face.

“What was my Baba to you?” she asks, paying no mind to his inner turmoil and giving him no time to adjust. 

“What, the Lan decide not to tell you about him?” he scrunches his forehead in irritation.

“Hanguang-jun and Grandmaster Lan only knew so much about him, but they didn’t exactly have a lot of stories of his childhood and anyone else who could have told me wouldn’t have been very open to meeting me or forthcoming with any stories.”

“Why was that?” He asks even though Lan Jingyi basically told them everything he’d need to know about that. 

She shrugs in lieu of answering, “Either way, I was a rather sickly child so it’s not like I could’ve traveled the distance to seek anyone out on my own. When I got the freedom to do so it didn’t feel worth it."

“Wei Wuxian was the head disciple of the Jiang sect, the youngest we’ve ever appointed at fourteen.” Is. Wei Wuxian is the head disciple of the Jiang Sect.

She looked at him deeply unimpressed. “I know that much. What was he to you?”

“He-,” Jiang Cheng cut himself off and frowned. That’s when he realized that he didn’t have an actual answer. What was Wei Wuxian to him? His position in the sect should be just that of a disciple, the head disciple and Jiang Cheng’s future right hand and closest subordinate. In truth Wei Wuxian’s position in the sect was ambiguous at best. The other boy was his father’s favourite, his mother’s ire, and was someone like a brother to him and his sister, but Jiang Cheng would not dare to call him that where it could reach his mother. Sometimes Wei Wuxian was family, other times there was a clear distance between them. Now that Jiang Cheng has been asked directly to define their relationship, he finds himself at a loss for what to say. “It’s complicated.”

“Okay,” Shuilan murmurs, still staring at him like she expected that answer. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to feel about that and could feel his hackles rising.

“I know you were young when you lost him, but did he ever talk about the Jiang Sect?” Did he ever talk about me or my family? Is the question that he can’t bring himself to ask. 

“Not unless asked directly, and even then the answers were pretty vague,” Shuilan responds casually, as if she isn’t making Jiang Cheng question everything he thought he knew about his sect’s head disciple. “My brother would probably be able to answer that better than me, he was always asking Baba about his childhood. Though there was a story or two about Jiang Yanli.” His expression must be something pathetic because she seems to take pity on him. The next thing she says explains nothing and everything all at once. “You and my father didn’t part on good terms.”

“How do you remember all this?” he snaps, suddenly everything feels too much.

“I have a good memory,” she deadpans, not caring for his attitude. 

There’s more to that. Jiang Cheng is not often in the company of young children, and even less with children as young as Wei Wuxian’s child would have been, but he knows that this isn’t normal. Children don’t remember things in such detail, the most they can remember is how they felt in certain memories, but the details of those memories slowly become lost as they stray further and further from their childhood. Jiang Cheng is not known for his grace when speaking, nor his ability to persuade people into giving him information, that’s more Wei Wuxian’s expertise. Even if the Jiang Heir knew what he wanted to ask he wouldn’t know how to ask it. For now he lets it go

“Is that why you don’t like my sect?” He hates the way he sounds like a petulant child asking why someone doesn’t like all the same things that he does. He’s so tense it’s starting to hurt.

“I don’t like your sect because your disciples do nothing but harass me when we cross paths. You’d think they were Jin cultivators instead with the way they don’t take no for an answer.”

He didn’t know what kind of answer he’d receive but that was not the answer Jiang Cheng was expecting. It shocked him so much he forgot to be angry at her for insulting the Jiang.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your Sect isn’t what it used to be from what I’ve heard.”

Jiang Cheng feels the pit in his stomach grow. 

“Okay so that’s why you dislike the Jiang Sect. What’s your problem with the Jins,” he decides to change the subject before he loses his temper.

“Does anybody like the Jins,” she asserts pointedly.

“…fair enough.”

“And just for clarity's sake, it’s not just the Jins and the Jiangs I don’t like. Cultivation was founded in pursuit of immortality and the cultivation sects were built in order to defend against supernatural problems that regular people can’t solve, but half the time they can’t even be bothered. The Lan Sect at least answers missives even when they come from outside their territory, but the rest of the sects? No they can’t even be counted on to show up unless people have already died.”

Her voice grows hard towards the end of her rant, eyes burning with a righteous fire that contrasts her relaxed posture. This entire conversation is just Jiang Cheng not knowing what to say and it’s pissing him off more than he’d like to admit.

“I guess you take after Wei Wuxian more than I thought,” he scoffs at her, feeling testy.

She smirks at him. “I like to think I’m the culmination of both of my fathers less appreciated traits.”

“And you’re proud of that?” he asks incredulously. His mind wanders once again to his mother and her thunderous temper, a temper that unfortunately he’s inherited from her. 

“Yes. I’m all the things my fathers weren’t allowed to be. The things others tried to beat out of them,” her voice pointed as she spoke with a wisdom that seemed ill fit for a seventeen year old. The knowing look she gave him was unnecessary. “And yet here I am, alive and well.”

While Jiang Cheng kept to himself his comments on her lifestyle, he couldn’t deny that she did seem well at home in that small village. Jiang Cheng’s not even sure that it has a name, though Shuilan seems like the type to appreciate the anonymity such a remote place has to offer. 

“Why?” he asks before he can formulate a full sentence. Shuilan looks at him and waits patiently for him to get his shit together. “ Why did you pick that village?”

Shuilan takes a deep breath and turns her head to look out into the back mountains. Her face looks so sad Jiang Cheng almost feels sorry despite the impatience he feels. “They needed help, and there was no one else to give it to them.”

He nods like he understands, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get why the Wei family seems so intent on playing the hero for everyone and everything. Lan Sizhui doesn’t seem as overt but Jiang Cheng has no doubt he’s at least a little bit the same with the way they interacted with the loquat vendor the day they landed in Caiyi. Shuilan looks back at him and somehow he knows that she can see it on his face.

“I got rid of the water ghouls that were making it impossible for them to fish, wash their clothes, or simply just collect water. It was a freshwater stream that hadn’t been tainted by their proximity to the Burial Mounds, and they relied heavily on it. I got rid of the ghouls, dealt with a haunting at the inn, gave them a few talismans to keep other spirits away, and helped them bury their dead once I put the spirits of their loved ones to rest. The next thing I knew they were inviting me into their homes to have meals with them and letting me stay at the inn for free, and this elderly woman had taken me in and allowed me to study under her when I expressed my desire to contribute more to the village,” Shuilan’s grow soft as they look past him as she recall the events to the Jiang Heir. “I felt like I belonged with them, so when my teacher  offered me a room in her house to reside in for the time being I decided to stay. I took up her responsibilities once she had passed on and became the new apothecary.”

A sense of belonging. Jiang Cheng thinks he can at least understand that even if he can’t imagine leaving his sect.

“You know what I hate the most about the Sects,” Shuilan is back to staring into the depths of his soul. He thinks that she might be one of the most intense people he’s ever met in his life. “They all believe that they are the most important people in the world. They trick themselves into thinking that they exist in vacuum and that they are entirely self sufficient, but when there is a problem it ends up being the common people that take the biggest hit, not a single care for the measures that could have been taken had the sects just decided to pay a little more attention to the things outside of the bubble that they live in.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to say to that. His first instinct is to defend himself, but how does he do that against someone who has lived in both worlds and decided they would prefer to fend for themselves rather than living in the security and comfort of their sect?

“It’s unrealistic to expect cultivators to be able to reach everywhere,” is what he decides to say, but it sounds like an excuse more than anything else, even to him.

Shuilan scoffs, but doesn’t look offended. She clearly has more to say but doesn’t deign to continue the conversation. Jiang Cheng bristles mildly at that and keeps quiet. Shuilan gets up and extends a hand to him.

“Come on,” she says, “They’re probably wondering where we are and it’s almost dinner time anyway.”

Jiang Cheng looks up at the sky; it has gotten darker. He eyes her hand warily for a moment and she wiggles her fingers in his face in a move that is so Wei Wuxian he instinctively slaps it away before freezing. Neither of them move and Jiang Cheng is about to get up and storm away just to avoid the fallout but she surprises him by huffing out a laugh and crossing her arms over her chest.

“My bad,” is all she says.

It takes Jiang Cheng a second to realise that she’s still waiting for him to get up. He does awkwardly and follows her back to the main area of the grounds. He feels a little humiliated and keeps quiet for the duration of their walk. When he sees their group congregated in front of the guest residence, Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows raised at him full of questions hidden behind his fan as he watches him and Wei Shuilan approach side by side, Jiang Cheng can only glare at the other boy in embarrassment.

Later it occurs to Jiang Wanyin, sometime when he’s trying to sleep, that he could’ve tried asking Lan Sizhui, who is older and also Wei Wuxian’s child, and saved himself the embarrassment. It’s too bad he was too pissed off at the other boy to consider it. 

Wei Shuilan doesn’t like him. 

He’s entitled, close-minded, and selectively confrontational in a way that most young masters are. 

But he’s not the same man that hurt her father, nor is he the man who looked at her brother, covered in dirt, wearing rags, standing on a corpse mountain, and decided that he didn’t deserve to be helped, that he deserved to die. In front of her stands a boy, a boy who’s younger than her, angry and riddled with insecurities, possessing an inferiority complex the size of the lakes that are ubiquitous in Yunmeng. 

She looks at this younger version of Sect Leader Jiang, and then at the younger version of her uncle who she no longer calls so, and thinks that maybe, just maybe, they can change one timeline for the better. She thinks, with a fleeting flutter of hope in her chest, that maybe there can be a reality where her Baba doesn’t have to die, and her A-die doesn’t have to mourn him while forced into seclusion practically half dead.

For the first time in a long time she thinks that she might understands where her former Sect Leader was coming from that first conversation they had in the Hanshi. 

And perhaps they can do something with that.

Lan Xichen waits in front of the residence where the Lan house their guests and ponders a peculiar interaction. After finally finishing the impromptu meeting with a few of the elders and Shufu he feels it safe to say that it was a rather eye-opening experience. 

Lan Xichen did his part in relaying what they had been working on and how much progress they have made and what they are planning to do next, and exactly how much he has been allowed to work with, and had spent the better part of the meeting trying to convince the elders that Wei Shuilan was not being a tyrant and keeping all the work to herself (he’d have done more if he actually knew what to do on his own, but the elders seemed not to care about that). Shufu stood his ground and firmly stated once again, that the elders will not interfere with the work that is being done in order to send the young sect heirs home. The compromise that was agreed upon was that the elders would receive progress reports so that they know what is being done, but they will not be allowed to directly influence the actual process and that any criticisms or suggestions they have will have to presented to Shufu and not to Shuilan or any of the other disciples. 

That last part was clearly meant to be a deterrent to the elders, lest they want to waste Grandmaster Lan’s time with petty disagreements that provide no actual value to their ultimate goal. Lan Xichen wonders why his uncle would put himself in this position in the first place. It is above him to deal with such disputes and could easily be delegated to a senior disciple. 

Though, the relieved looks from both Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi seemed to bolster the older man’s decision.

The First Jade of Lan also doesn’t understand this uncharacteristic behaviour of the elders. Knowledge has always been shared openly in Gusu Lan, one of their main precepts emphasizes the importance of pursuing knowledge, but he doesn’t understand why the elders are so obstinate in their belief that Wei Shuilan and her work should be monitored.

What happened between her and the elders for them to be so stubborn on this matter?

‘I am no longer a Lan; my work is my own.’

Lan Xichen has a sinking feeling in his gut, and he hopes that what Shuilan said to Elder Cao was specifically for what happened earlier and not because of some kind of terrible precedent regarding the ownership of her personal research.  

That is all to say that he was glad when after the meeting they ran into his older self. The man himself looked a bit aggrieved but lightened up at the sight of his nephew, a fact that is still so novel to Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun had informed the boy that Hanguang-jun had written to him and that he and Mo Xuanyu are making progress in their investigation of the corpse arm, and to remind both Sizhui and Shuilan that they need to take breaks in order to assure good results. The reminder made Sizhui laugh and promised that he would make sure that Shuilan wasn’t overworking herself. Lan Xichen found himself smiling at Hanguang-jun’s concern and show of affection, and once again felt warm and happy for his brother. After relaying Hanguang-jun’s letter, Zewu-jun suggested that they go out to Caiyi with the rest of the young masters the day after tomorrow to give everyone a bit of a break. Lan Xichen was happy with the potential trip, Jingyi equally excited for a day with no work, but oddly enough it was Sizhui who had seemed less sure of it. 

“We should ask Shuilan how our timeline is looking before we make any plans.”

“I spoke to Shuilan earlier, she seemed fine with it.”

“Really? Shuilan did?”

“Yes. I imagine the young masters are feeling a bit restless at the moment, a trip down to Caiyi would be good for everyone.”

Sizhui eventually allowed himself to be convinced but Lan Xichen couldn't get the look of unease that was on the boy’s face out of his head. What happened between Zewu-jun and Shuilan for Sizhui to be so shocked at the uncle and niece speaking to each other independently of him. Before he can dwell on such speculation his thoughts are interrupted by Wangji exciting his room and walking over to them. 

“Wangji?” confusion evident in his tone, “Have you been in your room this whole time?”

“Mn,” Wangji frowned.

Concern started to spread through Lan Xichen, but before he could give voice to it two others had joined them.

“Oh! Xichen-ge!” Nie Huaisang called out once they were close enough for his volume to not be considered yelling, Jin Zixuan trailing behind him.

Lan Xichen spares his brother another concerned glance, indicating that they would be speaking about it later, before turning his attention to Nie Huaisang. 

“Xichen-ge, have you seen Jiang-xiong?” the Nie Hier asks. “He wondered off by himself after our lessons today, and I thought he went back to his guest room.”

Jin Zixuan huffs behind the other boy but otherwise keeps silent. 

“No, I can’t say I have,” Lan Xichen answers. “We just arrived here ourselves after speaking with Shufu and some of the elders.”

That seems to shake Lan Sizhui out of whatever introspection he’d stumbled into after speaking with his uncle. “Oh right, I should go look for Shuilan right now.”

“I’m right here.”

Lan Xichen did not jump, it was not in his nature to do so, but it was a very near thing. The same cannot be said for the rest of them. 

“Shuilan!” Lan Jingyi whines at his friend. “We’ve talked about this, can you please make a sound when you approach people.”

“Loud noises are forbidden,” is the unforgiving response. “Besides, you should pay better attention to your surroundings.”

A scoff is heard behind her and Lan Xichen finds that he has to fight to keep his eyes from taking up the rest of his face.

Jiang Wanyin moves aside and watches as the Lan boy lets out a cry of dissatisfaction and tries to grab at Shuilan’s face, who has swiftly maneuvered herself behind her older brother. Sizhui looks content standing between the two, making no move to stop either of them. The Jiang Heir shifts uncomfortably under the questioning gaze of the others but steeled himself to walk over to them anyway taking up the space beside Nie Huaisang.

“Jiang-xiong?” Nie Huaisang regarded the boy suspiciously. “What were you doing with Xiao Wei?”

Jiang Wanyin glares back at the question. “I had some questions I wanted answered.” 

The boy glances back at the future denizens and scowls, a stiffness in his posture and an unreadable look on his eyes as he scrutinises them and the childish squabble taking place. The future Lan Sect leader doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but he thinks that there is an air of envy as the other boy looks away. 

Lan Xichen can’t help his own feelings of disbelief at him. Shuilan has not been subtle with her dislike of Yunmeng Jiang’s sect heir despite her professionalism. He can’t picture the two of them sitting down and having a conversation with each other. Judging from the way that Nie Huaisang is looking at his classmate he can’t either.

The normally flippant young master says nothing and continues to stare. Nie Huaisang decides to drop it and redirects his attention back to the trio that’s finally settled down. Jingyi’s hands are back at his side while Shuilan has her arms wrapped around one of Sizhui’s, leaning onto him and mussing up her hair on his shoulder. The three looking more their ages than they have in the last few days of burying themselves in work. 

“Ah,” Sizhui perks up suddenly, “Shuilan did you speak with Uncle recently?”

Shuilan freezes, likely unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know her, but the quirk is so reminiscent of Wangji that Lan Xichen can’t help but feel nervous about that reaction. 

If possible she cuddles even closer to her brother’s arm. “I did,” she nods. “A little bit before I bumped into Young Master Jiang.”

Jiang Wanyin nods himself in affirmation, gaze firmly planted onto the ground in front of his feet. Sizhui’s eyes narrow at the boy before turning back to his sister, waiting for her to continue.

“He suggested taking us into Caiyi with the young masters.”

Sizhui shares a look with Jingyi over the girl’s head.

“A break would be nice,” Jingyi attempts to lighten the mood. “I’m sure our guests would appreciate some real food!”

Nie Huaisang chuckles at the joke and laughingly agrees to the excursion while lamenting the lack of sustenance he’s been given the last few days. 

Lan Xichen takes a moment to check again on his brother in the distraction. He pulls Wangji aside from the group now discussing what they would like to do in the town. 

“Wangji are you sure everything is okay,” the older brother questions with careful concern.

“Mn,” Wangji responds, the lines in between his brows less prominent but not gone. 

“What happened after we left the library?” Lan Xichen continues to pry.

Wangji stays silent, taking the time to collect his words. 

“I walked her to the Jingshi before lunch,” he pauses again. “She showed me something, and I didn’t react well.”

Lan Xichen frowns at the the ambiguity but doesn’t press for details. Details are not important right now.

“I’m afraid I upset her,” Wangji finally admits, clearly distressed at the idea.

Lan Xichen’s heart aches for his younger brother. “I’m sure she understands that you were just overwhelmed.”

He hadn’t expected that to completely cheer his brother up, but Lan Xichen didn’t think that it would worsen Wangji’s expression. 

“Wangji?” 

Lan Wangji doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to make his brother understand that Wei Shuilan’s consideration towards him is exactly the problem, so he simply shakes his head and gestures that the two of them should rejoin the group if only to not draw attention to Wangji’s poor mood. 

(And while in this mood he ponders something that should have struck him as odd sooner

“People know what Suibian looks like and seeing it in the possession of some nameless cultivator has them talking”

Wangji is no fool, he understands exactly what the implications of such a statement is. In order to protect his children, Hanguang-jun had hidden their origins from the rest of the cultivation world. 

And he has let the child that bears a striking resemblance to her other father, the father that has been declared a deranged heretic, out in the world without his protection, while simultaneously putting his son in the safest position he can be as the heir of one of the major sects.

Lan Wangji doesn’t understand his future self.)

“Oh, before I forget. Jiang-gongzi,” Shuilan suddenly turns to Jiang Wanyin, “do you mind drafting the letter we’re going to send back?”

Jiang Wanyin’s eyes widened in surprise before he catches himself. “Me?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna send it directly to Young Master Wei, and he’s most likely to recognize your writing so he knows it’s not a trick.”

Jiang Wanyin nods earnestly. “What should I write?”

Shuilan shrugs noncommittally, “Up to you. Make sure you add something personal so it can’t be mistaken for anyone else. I’ll attach a set of instructions to it and hopefully we’ll be able to establish correspondence between us so we can collaborate in our efforts to send you all back.”

“How exactly are you going to make sure that the letter goes straight to Wei Wuxian?” asks Jin Zixuan, who’s still a bit indignant at being left out of the loop. 

“We’ve estimated the amount of energy we’ll need for twenty years into the past. There will probably be a bit of a lag to make up for the backlash of energy that we’d normally get so it won’t be sent to exactly the same time of day, but it’ll be close enough for us to minimize the amount of change that needs to be accounted for when you return to your time.”

“Ah, I feel like even if you explain it it’ll just go over my head,” Nie Huaisang laughs helplessly, “I’ll just trust you to know what you’re doing.”

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Wanyin both look like they disagree. In all honesty they’ve been asking Lan Xichen and Wangji about the work they’ve been assigned but all they really do is answer questions posed by Wei Shuilan who figures out what to do with the information almost entirely on her own. Sizhui and Jingyi work on it with her but neither Twin Jade could tell you the details of what they’re doing. 

“The short explanation is that we’re going to use two types of energy to power the talisman, and the combined energy should be able to go far back enough in time while simultaneously using the two distinct soul signatures as a type of guide so that it ends up in the right place,” Shuilan explains anyway, probably noticing the young masters’ expressions.

“And the long explanation?” Jin Zixuan challenges. 

Shuilan meets his eyes with the utmost seriousness and crosses her arms before delving into a more in depth lecture. 

Lan Xichen feels like he is no longer able to comprehend language as she mechanically recites the details of the general process and the specifics that are being taken into account as well as the limitations of what they can do without information from the people in their time. Judging by the furrow of the others’ brows, they feel the same. She pauses and gives everyone a moment to process the information that’s been presented. Shuilan's face remains carefully blank, but she seems distinctly pleased at their speechlessness. Lan Xichen, who had grown accustomed to her using more accessible diction in order to fill the gaps in their knowledge, taking the time and putting in genuine effort to make sure they had at least a surface level understanding of what they were working on, is thrown by Shuilan actively trying to confuse them. He didn’t think she would be this petty.

 “After they receive the instructions we’re gonna try to create a kind of physical anchor on both ends to establish a direct pathway of travel between your time and ours. This way we don’t have to rely on basically guessing whether or not you’ll go where you want to be.”

Jingyi and Sizhui have been watching the interaction with thinly veiled amusement. The more rambunctious boy raises his hand and places it flat on the top of her head, and for a second Lan Xichen is worried that Jingyi is going to do something that will upset her, but Shuilan doesn’t even flinch at the touch. 

“You're done melting their brains now?” he chuckles while lightly shaking her head back and forth in some odd substitution of a head pat, yet still managing to look affectionate.

“I merely accepted their request for a more thorough explanation,” Shuilan quipped back with no remorse.

Sizhui bats his friend’s hand off of his sister, looking at the two with exasperation. The boy turns to the rest of the group and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted.

“You’ve been guessing the entire time?” Jiang Wanyin says affronted.

“What, like you know exactly how to handle the concept of time travel?” Lan Jingyi arches a brow at the boy.

“Jingyi.”

“What? It’s true.”

“This is my first time dealing with something as intangible as time, so excuse me if I don’t have any existing parameters to work with,” Shuilan remarks sarcastically, ignoring the two Lans.

“As long as it works I can live with whatever you need to do to get there,” Jin Zixuan sighs, muttering to himself. He turns to Lan Sizhui to ask, “When can we go down to Caiyi Town?”

That trip to Caiyi couldn’t come soon enough it seems.

“The day after tomorrow,” Sizhui calmly informs them. “Tomorrow we’ll send off the letter, then we have to wait for a response and since we don’t know how long that will take we can schedule a break for the day.”

“Why can’t we go tomorrow after we send the letter?” Nie Huaisang asks.

“I still need to finish the device that’s going to receive the letter we’re getting in response so that we can keep track of the correspondence, so we might not be able to send our letter in the morning,” Shuilan interjects. “I figured you all would want a full day to goof off, so it’s better if you do it the day after.”

Nie Huaisang nods along happily, “Does that mean you three are done working for the day?”

Shuilan goes to answer but is cut off by Lan Sizhui.

“Yes, we are,” he gives her a stern look.

Shuilan lets go of his arm and pouts at him while Jingyi snickers in the back.

“I should at least start the outline tonight,” she protests. “Granduncle put me incharge of the work.”

Sizhui stared back unrepentantly, “And A-die put me in charge of making sure you don’t overwork yourself. I know you didn’t sleep last night.”

The two siblings glare at each other, while the rest of them swing their heads back and forth as if watching a particularly intense match.

“If you keep working I’ll tell A-die about that nighthunt you went on last month.”

“You said you wouldn’t!” Shuilan’s volume just barely acceptable within Cloud Recesses as she wears a look of betrayal as she gapes at her brother.

Lan Sizhu is unrelenting and crosses his arms over his chest. “You need to rest, and I know you’ll work well past curfew if you start now.”

Shuilan holds his glare for a ke. Her shoulders draw up and Lan Xichen watches as she opens her mouth, presumably to make another argument for why she should be allowed to work into the night, before she deflates and lets out a sigh of exasperation.

“Fine,” she mumbles petulantly.

Sizhui smiles and turns back to the young masters, “We’re done for the day.”

“...”

No one knows what to say to that, nor do they want to lest they risk aggravating the person in charge of getting them home. Nie Huaisang’s face remains hidden behind his fan as he stares with wide eyes. 

Lan Jingyi has no such qualms as he doubles over in laughter using Shuilan’s shoulder to keep himself from falling over. He laughs so hard he starts to cough which causes Shuilan to stop her sulking and check if her friend is actually okay, slapping a hand on his back to help with the cough.

“Okay, okay,” Jingyi giggles, “but what happened on that nighthunt that you don’t want Hanguang-jun to know about?”

Shuilan’s face goes blank once he’s able to hold himself upright and she swiftly pushes the young man away from her. “None of your business.”

She bows tersely to the rest of them, and promptly walks off in the direction of the main sect residence. They watch as she disappears into the cluster of structures along the pathway.

“Well that went well,” Jingyi says.

Sizhui whacks him upside the head without looking.

“Can we ask about the nighthunt?” Nie Huaisang asks, ever the gossip.

Sizhui regards him warily before relenting. “She was just being a little reckless with a ghost. Hanguang-jun wouldn’t be happy hearing about her using an experimental technique without testing it out on something more harmless.”

“Not going to grace us with any more details,” teases Jingyi. 

“She was with her rogue cultivator friend so she was fine but Shuilan hates worrying Hanguang-jun so it works in my favour. If you’ll excuse me I need to go make sure she actually listens to me.” They all pretend not to hear him mutter something under his breath about restraints as he walks off.

Lan Xichen watches his nephew leave with a laugh bubbling in his chest that he manages to keep down until the young man is out of sight.

Jingyi turns to them with a bright grin spread across his face.

“Shuilan will probably manage to sneak some work in when Sizhui’s either not looking or sleeping so we’ll probably manage to send a letter back by tomorrow afternoon,” Jingyi tells them cheerily.

Lan Xichen doesn’t even fight the laugh that escapes him at that. He feels much lighter now than he did earlier. 

“I didn’t think they were the type of siblings who bicker,” Nie Huaisang mused, “Sizhui seems like a really indulgent older brother.”

Jingyi hummed in consideration. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that they never fight. Before Shuilan ‘went rogue’,” he stressed the term rogue, “-they argued a lot actually. Shuilan wouldn’t tell him why exactly she was leaving, only that she had to. Actually, now that I think about it she still hasn’t told us why.” The young Lan pauses, face scrunching as he processes his own thoughts. “Whatever,” he concludes anticlimactically with a handwave. “Everyone is happier and arguably closer than before, so that’s all that matters.”

Now Lan Xichen is even more confused. He wants to ask, but there is a chasm growing in his chest as he considers what could have happened. He’s scared of what the answer will be. What would drive away a clearly beloved family member? The behaviour of the elders towards her being repainted in a more ominous light. 

If one were to ask what the current heir of the Gusu Lan Sect was like they would say that he was a promising young man, inheriting all the good qualities of his father Hanguang-jun despite not being a blood son. They would tell you that Lan Yuan courtesy Sizhui was a young master of fine calibre with a growing list of personal achievements to make his sect proud.

No one would believe that the young man currently engaged in a scuffle with his younger sister as they attempted to wrestle the paintbrush out of her hand was the same person. 

“Let go already!” cried Wei Shuilan, grip tightening in a desperate attempt to keep writing. “Is this how the peerless heir of Gusu Lan treats his juniors!?”

“Keep going and I really will tell A-die about all the nighthunting escapades you keep from him!” Lan Sizhui threatens. 

Both siblings groan in frustration at the other’s obstinance, truly the picture of maturity and grace. The paintbrush forgotten as they simply start to shove at each other. Shuilan stops abruptly, feeling a familiar weight that wasn’t there before at her waist next to her dizi. Only Lan Sizhui’s extensive training keeps him from toppling forward and crushing her at the loss of opposing force. 

“Shuilan?”

“I just got a letter,” she states as she moves back to the desk that they had tumbled away from in the impromptu brawl. Sizhui watches as she sits herself back down at the desk and goes to follow her.

Shuilan detaches the brush that’s tied to her belt sash and carefully unravels the cloth around it to pull out the folded parchment she’d just received. If she’s getting a letter now that means that the rogue cultivator she’s befriended is back at the village and has seen the letter Shuilan had left for them back at her house. Shuilan unfolds the parchment and scans through the contents rather quickly.

“Is everything okay,” Sizhui asks sitting beside her.

Expectedly Shuilan only hums in response, eyes not straying from the letter. Sizhui goes to collect all the papers that had previously gone flying, and once he has them all stacked and neatly placed to the side Sizhui waits patiently for his sister to finish reading. Shuilan nods with satisfaction as she places the letter down and finally looks up.

“Shao Hongying came back yesterday and had done the usual patrol around the village and the border of the Burial Mounds,” she begins after reattaching her communicator back to her belt, and Sizhui realises this is the first time he’s actually heard Shuilan call her friend by their name. He wonders for a second if he’ll ever get to meet them or if his sister’s life will continue to be separated into two distinct parts, never to overlap with each other beyond their visits that have gotten increasingly scarce over the last six months. “Though everyone is still a bit worried because I left so quickly, so they just want to know if I’m okay and how long I’ll be gone for.”

Sizhui feels a little miffed at the thought that the villagers think anything would happen to her with him at her side, but understands the worry. “How long will you stay for?”

“I think sending the young masters home may take another week or so depending on how well our plan for tomorrow goes.”

“Why don’t you stay until A-die comes home with Young Master Mo? It’s been so long since we’ve all spent time together as a family and maybe you two can trade techniques with each other seeing as you play the same instrument. Young Master Mo seems like he’s going to be a more permanent fixture from here on out.” 

Shuilan stops and considers for a moment. She places a hand on top of Suibian before drawing the sword from where it was balanced at the side of the desk, and holding it reverently on her lap. “He does, doesn’t he,” her smile is sad. “Whatever makes A-die happy. At least Mo-qianbei is nice.”

Sizhui wraps an arm around her shoulder and hugs his little sister close. “A-die deserves to move on. Baba would have wanted him to.”

The two remain silent as they take comfort in the thought of their father finding love again, even if it feels like a betrayal.

The letter that Young Master Jiang composed was simple, bordering on vague, with only just enough personal information to identify himself. In comparison to the amount of detail put into Shuilan’s written instructions it feels almost suspicious in all honesty. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that Jiang Wanyin was being held against his will and forced to write that he was okay in an attempt to gain the cooperation from the recipient of said letter.

Shuilan looks up from the letter and keeps her face neutral, for once not wanting to display her dissatisfaction with what was presented to her. In the few days that she has known him, and even lesser time that she has spent in the boy’s company, she has noted his tendency to hide his personal disappointment behind defensiveness, and Shuilan has no desire to set him off. She doesn’t want to coddle him either but does recognize that she must go about her suggestions for improvement in a way that Jiang Wanyin will not take as criticism of him as a person. The situation necessitates that she go about this delicately especially considering the fact that this is the one task that Jiang Wanyin is allowed to contribute on his own. And perhaps this is her own fault for overemphasizing the importance of not revealing too much about the future.

The young master sits stiffly in front of her waiting for a response, looking entirely out of place within the calm openness of the Cloud Recesses’ library. Shuilan looks at him, then back down at the letter trying to piece together her words. 

“It’s rather short,” she says to lead into the issue.

The Jiang Sect’s only heir grunts in response still maintaining battle stance in a seated position. 

What the hell is she supposed to make of that?

“Is this normally what it looks like when you write to each other?” Please say yes.

“No,” Jiang Wanyin frowns, “We don’t have to write to each other since we usually go on the same nighthunts.”

Wonderful, she thinks sarcastically. “The contents are a bit ambiguous, I think it would be fine to add a bit more detail about where you are and how you’ve managed to contact them.” Shuilan kept her voice even, lest she sound accusing. 

“What else do I need to add,” Jiang Wanyin scowls. “I stated what happened, where we are, and that they should follow the instructions attached on the separate parchment.”

Shuilan wonders if this boy has ever written a personal letter to anyone before. She thinks over her words again. “Your diction is a bit too blunt. The goal here is to reassure your sect disciple and Grandmaster Lan that you and the other young masters are safe and that you’ve gotten help.”

“Is that not made obvious by the fact that I was able to send a letter back at all,” beneath the increasing frustration in the young master’s speech his confusion is most telling. On top of Jiang Wanyin’s inability to accept constructive criticism, it seems that the young heir really doesn’t understand how his general demeanor comes across when there is only the written language to go off of. 

It seems that there’s no need for gentle guidance.

“You sound like you’re being held hostage and being used to garner cooperation with an unknown entity.”

“Excuse me!?” Jiang Wanyin is clearly affronted, and if Shuilan was a better person she would not find amusement in such a reaction.

“There’s not enough information in the letter,” she holds the letter up and clears her throat theatrically. “ Wei Wuxian, it’s me Jiang Cheng. We’ve landed in the future and have found some people who have been able to help us, but they require your assistance to get us back home. Follow the instructions attached to this letter. Signed, your sect heir Jiang Wanyin of Yunmeng Jiang. ” She finishes reading and looks back at the boy now actively slouching into himself, as if it will help him disappear from the situation. “If your current predicament wasn’t so serious this would be acceptable, but they haven’t been able to track you guys down for days. It would be fine if this is the normal tone of your personal correspondence, but this isn’t. You need to treat this like official correspondence with another sect so that they know that you’re serious about what needs to happen.”

Understanding seems to dawn on the Jiang heir, even if he’s unhappy about it. Shuilan just hopes that he’s willing to actually listen to her now. 

“Why can’t you write the letter again?” he objected, disheartened by the criticisms.

Shuilan holds back a sigh, “It needs to be in your writing so that Young Master Wei is able to verify you. They won’t trust a letter from someone that they don’t know.”

Though the silence is not tense, it is not comfortable either. The boy in front of her is obviously upset, and Shuilan wonders if he’s just going to ignore her again. Instead what happens is that Jiang Wanyin gains an air of defeat and deflates from the previously stiff posture he sat himself in.

Finally, the young master nods in acquiescence. 

“Alright,” he says, looking straight into her eyes without glaring at her. “Is there anything specific that I should add?”

Shuiln perks up at that, happy to provide. “Write that you’re in Cloud Recesses, twenty years into the future, and that you have gotten help from Grandmaster Lan,” she pauses, thinking for a moment, “and add that it was Lan-er-gongzi’s son that found you in a remote village that none of you recognized.”

“Wha-? Why do we need to do that?”

“So that you don’t have to mention why the talisman didn’t take you to a future version of Wei Wuxian.”

“Wait,” Jiang Wanyin’s voice raises slightly as he realizes what happened. “You’re saying the reason we ended near your village was because of you? ”

“The talisman uses the energy of the cultivator who activated it as the anchor, and it looks for the same energy signature for the drop off into either the past or the future,” she tells him, “But Young Master Wei isn’t in the future. So the talisman brought you to the closest person it could find.”

For all they have already spoken about it–all the time that has passed since learning of it–it appears that Wei Wuxian’s death truly had not sunk in until this very moment. Wei Shuilan watches silently as the fact of it and all of its implications thoroughly makes itself known to someone her father had once considered close to him. 

“It is paramount that your Wei Wuxian does not learn of his future death,” Shuilan impresses upon the boy. You think you learning of his death is difficult? Try being the one that is actually going to die. “It helps none of us to distress the one who needs to be able to focus on bringing all of you home.”

This isn’t how she wanted this meeting to go. She doesn’t want to constantly stress out the people around her, and she doesn’t want to sound like a dictator all the time, but how else is she supposed to act if the people around her don’t comprehend the gravity of the situation if she doesn’t remind them of it. 

She’s tired. And Shuilan’s only been here for a week. 

“Jiang-gongzi,” she’s as gentle as she can be while refraining from pleading, but it isn’t beneath her.  I need you to understand how important this is.

Jiang Wanyin looks at her for the first time with something other than contempt and frustration. He looks at her with something akin to sympathy. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even appear to have heard her, but Shuilan knows that she’s finally gotten through to him.

When he sits back down he takes back the letter and picks up the brush that Shuilan had set aside when he walked up to her. Jiang Wanyin makes note of the other details that she said to add, and stands from the table. She does not rise with him and he looks down at her, as if taking in her image. He bows then takes his leave. Shuilan watches him go with a bitter taste left in her mouth.

She takes a deep breath, then another. Once she feels grounded she picks up the pieces of the new communicator she is making and prepares it to hold two energy signatures at once. 

It doesn’t take long before she’s joined by her brother and Lan Jingyi. Lan-da-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi have been pulled into a meeting with Zewu-jun to catch the man up to the happenings of this project. It is still early enough for the library to be scarce with occupants, even more so because they’ve unofficially claimed it from mao shi to wu shi. At the moment much of the sect is attending their morning classes and other obligations.

Shuilan feels as though she’s merely going through the motions, her lack of active presence does not go unnoticed by the two Lans. 

Her older brother says something, voice low as if trying to coax a fidgety animal. His hand hovers over her head in a move more to get her to look up from where she thumbs at the end of handle of the brush being repurposed for the communicator she’s keying up to hold her spiritual signature so that the response from the past may go to the communicator rather than to her physical person. Once they have it ready then they no longer have to rely on her matching spiritual energy to communicate with this Wei Wuxian from the past who has no idea that he will die not even twenty years into the future, being robbed of the right to watch his children grow up happy and healthy with the man that he loves because the cultivation world is stuck in its ways and never once thinks that perhaps the power that they so crave that ruins them so thoroughly.

“A-lan,” is whispered soothingly into her ear as the device is slipped out of her hand. She finds herself encased in Sizhui’s arms, face shoved onto a white robbed shoulder that grows more damp by the second. Shuilan hadn’t noticed when she started crying. Eyes lift up and see Jingyi holding her communicator. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, A-lan,” a hand runs down from the nape of her neck to the space between shoulder blades. Shuilan hadn’t noticed when she started shaking either.

Jingyi shifts closer to his friends leaning into Sizhui’s side and wrapping his own arm around the quietly sobbing girl. 

“Lanlan,” Sizhui grins in triumph when he hears the scoff at the old nickname he made for her when they were kids, “The new communicator looks almost done, the only thing you have to do now is the easy part and imbue it with your spiritual energy.”

Sizhui looks at Lan Jingyi, who nods in return.

Jingyi pats at the hand closest to him that’s gripped tightly onto Sizhui’s outer robe. Jingyi holds her fingers until she loosens her grip enough for him to properly hold her hand and guide it closer to the communicator. The boy gently takes the tool and puts it into her open palm and closes her fingers around it like a precious treasure, his touch just firm enough to feel but making it so that Shuilan can pull away if she needs..

“Now all you have to do is focus your energy into your hand, can you do that for me?” Jingyi’s softly given instructions help Shuilan even out her erratic breathing. 

Shuilan focuses on Jingyi’s hands encompassing her own as she feels her qi flow through her meridians. She closes her eyes and concentrates on redirecting and isolating her energy.

Lan Sizhui holds his younger sister tighter in his arms as Lan Jingyi helps her push her energy into the tool.

“That’s it, you’ve got it, just a little more and then we’re done,” Jingyi coaxes lightly, watching the gold hue coil around their hands and slowly pulling it away before the hue turns to red, not knowing if his friend is capable of differentiating the two at this moment.

Once the tool is free Lan Jingyi places it onto the table and wraps the pre-prepared talisman onto the handle of the tool, completing the final process needed before they do their first attempt at communicating with the past. 

The three of them remain huddled together as they wait for Shuilan to pull away first. 

Lan Sizhui continues to rub circles on his sister’s back, feeling a little useless as she continues to cry. 

This is what he wanted to avoid by having her take more breaks, but evidently the stress of the situation has finally caught up to her. He rocks back and forth the same way he used to after her punishments when they were both children, and didn’t understand why her punishments were harsher than the average disciple’s.

Or why the elders required her blood.

They only stopped when Hanguang-jun and Grandmaster Lan found out.

“Shuilan,” Sizhui whispers. “You’ve done everything you need to do for today. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? We can handle the send off ourselves, you’ve already given us the step-by-step.”

Shuilan hums in response. They don’t know if she’s listening but Sizhui talks anyway. 

“We could go visit the bunny field,” he suggests. She only hums again. 

Jingyi starts to clear the table and puts the new communicator with the folded parchment containing Shuilan’s instructions into his sleeve for safe keeping until Young Master Jiang has finished his letter. 

“Sizhui I have everything, we should head to the hutch now if we want to feed the bunnies before our archery class.”

“No,” Shuilan mutters.

Both boys look at her with worry. 

“No,” she repeats, pulling away from the embrace. “I’m going to go back to the Jingshi. I’ll do some light reading or something.”

The worry in their expressions intensified, neither feeling keen on leaving her on her own. For a moment they consider asking the young masters to spend the day with her–Grandmaster Lan would understand–but they both quickly dismiss the idea. There’s no telling what kind of things they’d ask her about, and the last thing they want to do is stress her out even more. 

Lan Sizhui finds himself a little angry at his father for leaving when he knew his daughter clearly needed his support, and then remembered how violently the demon arm killed the Mo family. Unfortunately for all of them, his father’s expertise was needed for this particular investigation. 

Sizhui keeps these thoughts to himself.

“Okay. We’ll walk you to the Jingshi.”

Lan Sizhui sighs as he walks with Jingyi along the path. He hasn’t been paying attention and clear when he notices that they aren’t anywhere near the archery field. 

“Jingyi,” he stops suddenly. “Where are we going?”

“The bunny field,” Jingyi pauses as a look of disdain spreads over his countenance. “And we should check if that horrid donkey Mo Xuanyu brought with him is terrorizing them.”

Sizhui huffs a laugh at that before quickly sobering up. He doesn’t want to relax in the bunny field after leaving a still upset Shuilan alone in the Jingshi.

His attention is pulled back to the present as fingers snap in his face, and he looks back up to see an unimpressed Lan Jingyi. 

“What is with you two thinking neither of you are allowed to do fun things when the other one is sad?”

A rhetorical question. Sizhui doesn’t have a good answer anyway.

“Shuilan needs to process some things right now,” Jingyi states. “And you can’t be dwelling on this because then you’ll feel bad, and that will make her feel worse. And then you’ll feel worse and then you two are going to be locked in this never ending cycle of bad feelings.”

“That’s quite the deduction, Jingyi-xiong.”

Jingyi’s scream was definitely not Lan-approved.

“Sneaking up on others is forbidden in Cloud Recesses!”

Young Master Nie smiles innocently at them.

“As a much wiser person than me said just yesterday,” the yellow clad young master’s eyes twinkle in delight. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Sizhui chuckles at the scene, while Jingyi fights the flustered heat on his face. 

“Where are you two gentlemen headed?” Nie Huaisang asks.

“I think the more important question is why are you out here alone?” Jingyi retorts, still sore about being snuck up on.

“Our classes have already ended for the day and both Jiang-xiong and Jin-xiong decided to head back to their rooms. Jiang-xiong siad that he needed to rewrite the letter,” the smile on the young master’s face gains an inquisitiveness. “Jiang-xiong’s been more gloomy than usual since his meeting with Xiao-wei. Do either of you know what happened with that?”

Jingyi sighs and mutters under his breath. “It’s always Jiang-gongzi.”

Sizhui shoots his friend a look. 

“Shuilan hasn’t said anything,” he says, smiling politely at the Nie Heir. “Can you tell Young Master Jiang that we’ve finished the preparations for the send off? It’s only the letter we’re waiting on now.”

Nie Huaisang nods. 

“Thank you, gongzi. If you’ll excuse us we need to head to our archery class,” Sizhui decides that he needs to feel the repetition of archery practice to ease himself. “You should head back to the guest quarters with the others.”

He’s not in the mood to deal with people right now. He wonders if it shows on his face, he kind of wants it to.

Nie Huaisang scrutinizes the Lan Sect’s future heir and thinks to himself that the young man in front of him is in fact his father’s son.

“Ah but there’s nothing to do in our rooms,” he whines.

“Why don’t you join our archery class then,” Lan Jingyi suggests. “If Young Master Jiang is finished writing then we can send it off after class and be finished before lunch.”

It catches both heirs off guard. Nie Huaisang because there is nothing he’d like less than physical training of any sort, and Lan Sizhui because he’s not sure he’ll be able to hide his frustration from them, especially Second Young Master Lan. The boy may not be his father yet but it is rather troubling how easy it is to fall into familiar patterns with the other teenager.

Nie Huaisang hums noncommittally, “What’s Xiao-wei up to right now anyways?” He changes the subject.

“Resting in the Jingshi,” Sizhui offers no other information.

Jingyi looks between the two heirs with mild confusion, before repeating his suggestion to the Nie Heir. The increasing tension in the air is broken when another voice calls out.

It catches both heirs off guard. They’re even more put off when someone else answers.

“It would be better than sitting in our rooms doing nothing for the rest of the day.”

When did Jin Zixuan get here? Sizhui turns his head and spots Jiang Wanyin with him as well. Further down the path he notes the figures of the Twin Jades of Lan.

There goes my morning, Sizhui thinks to himself. He recties the rules he’d be breaking if he decided to turn around and go back to the Jingshi to hang out with Shuilan instead. 

“Let’s go then,” Sizhui sighs. “We’re going to be late.”

Lan Sizhui does not take solace in the fact that Nie Huaisang, who started this whole thing, looks just as upset as he feels about this whole thing. 

Nie Huaisang can think of at least ten other things he would rather be doing than sweating in a field and failing to hit targets. Normally he would feign some kind of injury if his level of incompetence did not eventually lead to the instructor letting him sit out for fear of hurting himself or the other disciples, but the instructor had decided that after the initial instructions, they–the time travelers–were to receive further guidance under this group’s top archer, Lan Sizhui.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t think he’s imagining the subtle pride in Lan Wangji’s posture at the fact, nor the minute twitch of Lan Sizhui’s eye when it is announced. The boy’s polite smile had grown more and more strained as he tries to guide Nie Huaisang into the correct stance, and keep him there for long enough to actually release the arrow.

Needless to say neither one of them is having a good time.

Lan Sizhui eventually gives up and allows him to sit down and massage the growing strain in his arms from barely being able to pull back the taut string of the bow. Now that Nie Huaisang has been moved to spectating he watches Lan Sizhui acutely. He is a talented archer, and likely an even better swordsman. The young man holds himself with the confidence and assurance of a Sect Heir that has fought for and earned the respect of his sect. Nie Huaisang can practically hear Da-ge's approval. The adopted son, no matter how loved, will always be under scrutiny from traditionalists. Nie Huaisang thinks of the elders of the Lan Sect, of the disagreement Lan Xichen had told them off, of how protective Lan Sizhui is of a sister that isn’t his by blood, and barely by sect law. 

The sect heir of Gusu Lan has been visibly uncomfortable, politely detached, this entire lesson and Nie Huaisang has no doubt that it is because something has happened with Wei Shuilan. 

Nie Huaisang’s usual methods of information gathering fall flat in Cloud Recesses on a good day, but are made impossible with the way that every disciple has been instructed to limit their contact with their group in order to prevent potential complications. He doesn’t blame them but the lack of information he has is starting to grate on his nerves. Nie Huaisang is used to feeling powerless, but he isn’t used to being so out of the loop. They don’t know anything about the other sects other than the fact that Wei Shuilan would rather eat dirt than go to them for help. They don’t know anything outside of Gusu Lan. 

He wants to know everything about the future. He wants to know how to stop the Wen Sect before they ever touch Qinghe Nie. He wants to know more about Wei Wuxian and the events leading up to his demise. He wants to know why Mo Xuanyu, a practicing demonic cultivator, is allowed at all in Cloud Recesses. He wants to know what Lan Sizhui’s life as the adopted son of someone as formidable and known as Hanguang-jun, and what the fuck happened for them to all just be alright with the youngest leaving and denouncing her place as the Lan Sect’s Xiaojie. 

He wants to know what happened to his da-ge.

“Nie-zongzhu isn’t very good at archery, is he?” is whispered from several paces back and is immediately shushed by the surrounding disciples.

Gossip is forbidden. Do not speak behind one’s back. For all that the Lan promulgate those ideals it does not stop the whispering, their disciples merely learn how to communicate their thoughts and assumptions without speaking, and it is a trait that becomes perfected with age. Those of Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi’s cohort have yet to master it themselves. Nie Huaisang hears them from where he is sitting out of range. Before that he saw their judgmental stares, their pitying glances.

Zongzhu, Nie Huaisang ponders on the notion of him as the leader of Qinghe Nie.

He hates it.

He watches as Lan Sizhui begins to grow frustrated, shoulders tensing with feet firmly planted onto the ground—but never showing on his face—, with Jin Zixuan and Jiang Wanyin riling each other up, turning the training session into a not-so-friendly competition. The young man all but snaps at them to knock it off, speaking with such authority and successfully deescalating the situation. It catches the attention of the instructor and the senior nods approvingly in the impromptu assistants direction. The man calls him over and asks him to provide a demonstration of his talents for the whole class.

The disciples part allowing Lan Sizhui to move to the centre of the training ground. The rest of the disciples move to the sidelines and Nie Huaisang barely notes that Jiang Wanyin stands next to him. Lan Sizhui strings his bow when Lan Jingyi claps a hand onto the other boy’s shoulder, and whispers something that relaxes Lan Sizhui’s face into a proper smile. 

Gusu Lan’s heir releases his arrow. The arrow pierces right into the center of a target much further than the ones the class was working with. Without pause he shoots at the neighboring targets one after the other, and then again splitting each previously shot arrow. 

His posture is relaxed, his ponytail blowing in the slight breeze behind him.

He looks like Wei Wuxian. 

Nie Huaisang is going to find a way to make him crack.

Chapter Text

The war, Nie Huaisang decides, is the most pressing matter that he needs to gather information on. That one is going to be a little easier, if a bit suspicious, considering all the recorded texts that exist in the library of the Lan Sect. He can’t just go wandering in there he knows, but under the pretense of checking with Wei Shuilan’s work he has an opening. Not to mention the fact that he doubts that she’ll really stop him from reading anything after she’d flipped her stance on what they’re allowed to know of the future on their own. The only thing is that he has yet to be able to ask her any, more personal kinds of questions despite the fact that Shuilan had offered herself up for it their first day in Cloud Recesses. 

It’s almost like she knew she’d be too busy for it, Nie Huaisang chuckles to himself. He doesn’t actually know if that was what she planned–though he did notice that she all but threw her brother at him when they first separated into groups–he still definitely would not put it past her to do such a thing. The Nie Heir hasn’t been able to observe her outside of all the research and planning she’s been doing, he doesn’t even know where she goes when she takes breaks, and the usual whispering that finds its way to him is silent.

Of all the rules that are present in Cloud Recesses, Nie Huaisang thinks that the rule against gossip is the one he most loathes. He understands the purpose of it, but truly gossip serves other purposes than vapid entertainment for nosy young masters and mistresses. Gossip is not reliable, not in the least, and not in the way that it spreads, but it provides a person with what the general attitude of the environment is. It is easy to argue that such a thing is not necessary in the Lan Sect, that a sect so rigid would be quite cut and dry about their beliefs in every situation.

Nie Huaisang calls bullshit. 

A demonic cultivator lives among them, the prodigal child of their esteemed Hanguang-jun has returned, and that was before a mismatched group of young sect heirs from the past became the current interest to their sect. 

Each situation is varying degrees of absurd, and Nie Huaisang would like to know more about what the general attitude towards all of it is, which is once again difficult to acquire because of the strict limitations placed on the residents. He supposes that he could corner a sympathetic servant, he only wonders at how much the ones assigned to them specifically would know.

Nie Huaisang is taken out of his musings at the sound of polite applause and he looks up in time to see lan Sizhui bow at the rest of the class indicating the end of his demonstration. The archery instructor moves to the young man’s side and gives him a look of approval. To the rest of the disciples he makes a speech of motivation and discipline that is required in order to properly hone one’s skills. The man finishes and with one final nod at his Sect Heir the class ends. 

Lan Jingyi smiles brightly and clasps his hand on his friend’s shoulder as he comes to a stop in front of them.

“You should have showed off more, remind everyone whose son you are,” Lan Jingyi jokingly chastises.

“Showboating is forbidden,” if it was said by anyone else, Nie Huaisang thinks they’d be rolling their eyes at Jingyi.

“Your skill with a bow is commendable,” Lan Xichen praises. “You must get it from Wangji.”

Lan Sizhui smiles graciously at the compliment, but Nie Huaisang spies the twitch of his hand. The other boy will have to learn to fight his involuntary reactions if he doesn’t want others’ to clock his discomfort so quickly. 

“Thank you, Lan-da-gongzi,” the pleasant smile remains on Lan Sizhui’s face. 

“Is the bow your preferred choice of weapon?” unexpectedly it is Jin Zixuan who asks. Or perhaps not that unexpected given Young Master Jin’s propensity for it himself.

“Oh no, my secondary spiritual tool is my guqin,” Sizhui says in an uncharacteristic display of bashfulness, his hand going to rub the back of his neck. “But when I heard that both my fathers were formidable archers I spent a good portion of my childhood practicing on my own.”

(Lan Xichen smiles widely at Lan Wangji, whose ears have gone quite red.)

Jingyi huffs a laugh and nudges Sizhui with his elbow before addressing them. “I heard the teachers had a very difficult time keeping him out of the archery range outside of our designated class for it.”

Lan Sizhui, finding himself in a better mood than he was earlier, chuckles at that. “Hanguang-jun had to sit me down and explain to me why I couldn’t go train by myself in the empty field or when the older disciples were using the field even if I stayed out of their way.”

“Bet you were upset about that,” Jingyi teases, Sizhui taking it in stride.

All the stories of Hanguang-jun being a dad–and a good dad at that–will never not throw Nie Huaisang for a loop. They all begin to walk away from the archery range as a senior class makes their way onto the field.

“Did it work?” Jiang Wanyin asks.

“Ah, for a time,” Lan Sizhui answers. “I’m told I grew more restless in between archery classes so Hanguang-jun set up a smaller range behind the Jingshi where he could watch me himself. Shuilan would sit on the back porch and watch me train sometimes.”

“What kind of father is Hanguang-jun?” Lan Xichen asks, curious about this future version of his brother, completely ignoring the look Lan Wangji gives him at the question.

“A good one,” Lan Sizhui says without hesitation, smiling at Lan Wangji. “Though not without trial and error.”

The rest of the walk is comprised of various stories of the trials and tribulations Hanguang-jun faced as a new father of two very young children, much to the amusement of Nie Huaisang. If nothing else, it is obvious that Hanguang-jun’s children grew up very loved. 

They head into the library and make an attempt to contact the past.

“What do we do now?”

“We wait,” Lan Sizhui says. “A full day should be enough time to account for the delay between timelines, so we’ll wait until then to receive a response.”

The whole ordeal ended up being rather anticlimactic. Nie Huaisang had thought it would have been a little more exciting but once they set the letter on the communicator and activated the talisman on it the letter merely vanished, not even so much as a gust of wind to indicate that something impossible had happened, but no, not a single sound when it blipped out of their sight.

Lan Sizhui tucks the communicator into his sleeve while Lan Jingyi puts the table back in order. 

“What happens if there’s no response within that time?” Lan Xichen asks.

“If there’s no response we go back and see if there was anything we may have missed that could be the cause for any issue.”

“Sounds tedious,” comments Jin Zixuan.

“This entire process is tedious but there’s not really much we can do about that. Not like we can complain anyway when Shuilan is doing all of the heavy lifting.”

“About that, where exactly is she? Is this not an important part of her plan? I don’t understand why she’d miss it, or why you two seem unconcerned with her absence,” the Jin heir eyes them suspiciously.

“She’s been overworking herself. The exhaustion finally caught up to her so she’s hopefully resting for the rest of the day,” Lan Sizhui answers, sounding far too calm for someone they all know worries incessantly for Shuilan.

“How irresponsible of her,” Nie Huaisang jokes, earning himself a slight glare from the girl’s older brother. The boy shrinks back slightly.

“The faster she figures out how to send you all back the faster she gets to go back home, so I don’t exactly blame her,” Lan Jingyi interjects before anyone else can say anything. “Now that we’re done with all that let’s head to the dining pavilion, I’m starving.”

Lan Sizhui shakes his head, “I’m going to take a detour to the kitchens and tell them to serve mine and Shuilan’s meals to the Jingshi. Being gawked at in the dining pavilion is not something she needs right now.”

The young masters all wince at that. Nie Huaisang wonders if Shuilan actually voiced her discomfort or if Sizhui is just that intune to her moods. 

Lan Jingyi nods in understanding, “Mind if I join you, or do you need some sibling time?”

“That’s fine. She could use a friend right now.”

Lan Xichen clears his throat to get their attention. The other two Lans turn to look at their future sect leader. 

“In that case would you mind if we went with you to ask the same for us? I think I speak for all of us when I say that we could use a break from the public eye for some time.”

“Not at all, young masters,” Lan Sizhui smiles at the younger version of his uncle and gestures for him to lead the way.

The kitchens were the most lively place in the Cloud Recesses. The only place where an abundance of noise can be heard and made, and be considered acceptable.

A servant takes notice of the uncommon sight of young masters gathered just outside of their workplace. 

“Sect Heir,” she greets Lan Sizhui. If she is put off by the presence of the time travellers she makes no notion of it on her person. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Lan Sizui smiles politely at her, “Yes, I’d like to take my midday meal in the Jingshi with my sister and Jingyi if it’s not too much trouble.”

Oddly the servant seemed a bit confused. “With your sister, Lan-gongzi?”

“Yes,” it was Sizhui’s turn to sound confused. “Is there a problem with that?”

The servant hesitates for a moment before answering him. “I was under the impression that she was already having her midday meal in one of the open pavilions.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, one of the other servants had taken a meal for two and was instructed to bring it to a pavilion near the area by the bunny field.”

“The bunny field?” Lan Sizhui repeats, shocked. “Did you say the meal was for two? Did she tell you who she was dining with?”

If the servant hadn’t hesitated earlier, Nie Huaisang would think that Shuilan was just having a meal with Grandmaster Lan. 

It’s still so novel, Nie Huaisang suppressed his giggles. The other young masters share a look wondering what was happening right now.

“Ah, yes actually,” The servant now seemed less hesitant. “It was Young Master Lan Boyu,” who? “He made arrangements this morning. From his words I assumed that Young Mistress Wei had agreed the day before.” 

Lan Sizhui frowned slightly at the information.

“Would you still like to have your meal at the Jingshi, Lan-gongzi?”

Shaking himself from his confusion, Lan Sizhui nods. “Yes, thank you. I’d also ask that you have meals sent to the guests rooms. They could use a reprieve from curious eyes for the day.”

“Yes, gongzi,” and with a respectful bow the servant goes back into the kitchen to relay the new orders to the other servants.

Jingyi is the first to speak up. 

“Shuilan’s eating with Lan Boyu?”

“It would seem so.”

“When did he even ask her?”

“Yesterday while you were speaking with the Shufu and the elders.”

Nie Huaisang whips his head in Lan Wangji’s direction. He hid his grin behind his fan as the other two boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the interruption.

“Wangji?” Lan Xichen also looked thrown off by his brother’s addition to the conversation.

“He asked if she would be amenable to discuss topics in musical cultivation pertaining to the construction of spiritual instruments,” Lan Wangji answered, he also seemed to be avoiding his brother’s eyes.

“Huh, alright then,” Lan Sizhui easily accepted the explanation. He communicated something with his eyes at Lan Jingyi who only nodded in response.

“My apologies, I thought she would have told you,” Lan Wangji seemed to be under the impression that he did something wrong, but as far as Nie Huaisang is concerned this is the most interesting thing that has happened in the last few days.

Lan Sizhui’s gesticulation was an approximation of a shrug. “She must have forgotten to mention it.” He turned to Jingyi, “Still want to eat at the Jingshi?”

Jingyi smiles happily, “Yeah, so I can grill Shuilan about this when she gets back.”

“Imagine if she didn’t tell him on purpose,” Nie Huaisang chuckles when they’re back in the safety of the guest quarters. They’ve decided to congregate in Nie Huaisang’s room to eat their meals.

“Unlikely.”

“Oh? And why is that, Wangji-xiong?”

Lan Wangji begins to eat.

“Maybe she wanted a break from his coddling,” Nie Huaisang continues undeterred.

“They seem too close for that to be a problem. Seriously I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pair siblings so touchy-feely with each other,” Jiang Wanyin pipes up, unconvinced.

Jin Zixuan just looks a little lost, no doubt that he is confused by the sibling dynamics considering he’s the only one present who was raised as an only child. Or maybe he’s just slightly judgmental of a girl who doesn’t seem to care that she is alone with a boy who has no relation to her.

Nie Huaisang internally laughs at the irony. 

The three young masters eye the Lans in their company, waiting to see if they’ll be called out for talking while eating but it seems that Lan Xichen has taken pity on them as he only smiles in their direction. Lan Wangji seems entirely invested in his meal as he steadfastly ignores them after one last glare for their rule breaking.

“Because they haven’t seen each other in what has likely been months. He has duties as a sect heir so it’s not like he can go see her whenever he wants, and from the sound of it, her visiting the sect is completely out of the picture,” Nie Huaisang reasons, though he doesn’t really think that’s the case. Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan have a closeness that seems too natural for that to be true, but Nie Huaisang is nothing if not a simple man who enjoys gossip, and this is the only time he’ll get away with it in the presence of the Twin Jades of Lan.

“Even if that’s true, why would she use a random disciple to get away from her brother when she could just as easily just go hide out in the fields by herself?” Jiang Wanyin scowls.

“Why wouldn’t she just talk to her brother?” Jin Zixuan asks genuinely. 

“Maybe she’s interested in the young master,” Nie Huaisang snaps his fan closed with his palm for emphasis.

Lan Wangji’s expression grows more and more disgruntled as the young masters continue to gossip.

“Oh come on,” Nie Huaisang continues to be irritating for the sake of it. “As unconventional as her life is, she is still a young maiden. Perhaps this Lan Boyu had caught her eye and she means to gain his affections outside of the watchful eye of her constant chaperones.”

“Ridiculous.” Lan Wangji could not think of anything more ridiculous than that. “They are discussing musical cultivation over tea.”

“Oh that’s right!” Nie Huaisang exclaims delightedly. “You were there when they made their plans! Tell us how it happened!”

Lan Wangji would rather he was still eating so that he may not respond at all. As it is, Nie Huaisang seems to have shed whatever it was that normally stopped him from pestering Lan Wangji, and his older brother appears to be of no help as he simply smiles at him and waits rather expectantly.

Wangji holds back a sigh before speaking, “After Lan Sizhui and the others had departed Shuilan and I started to put away the papers and other talismans. Lan Boyu had not excused himself and instead waited until Shuilan addressed him directly. He told her that he had enjoyed reading some of her work pertaining to the construction of spiritual instruments for novices and that he would like to discuss the content with her in more depth over tea. She agreed and then we parted ways to put away her papers in the Jingshi.”

“Oh so maybe Lan Boyu’s the one who was taken with her.”

Wangji glares fiercely at Nie Huaisang, who squeaks in response, at the insinuation of something that isn’t there. 

“He was taken with her work as a scholar.”

“You Lans are too pragmatic,” the Nie heir whines at his brother, knowing that he won’t get anywhere with Lan Wangji. “Where is your sense of romance! I’ve listened to the story of Lan An, there’s no way your entire sect is this unromantic when your history would dictate otherwise!”

Jiang Wanyin huffs disbelievingly at the other boy’s histrionics. 

Lan Wangji is still wondering why the Jiang heir was with Shuilan yesterday afternoon. He said they merely ran into each other and Shuilan made no indication that he was being untruthful, but it still begs the question of why Jiang Wanyin was being so cagey about the details. What could have possibly occurred that he thought he had to keep it to himself and not gossip with the others as had normally happened when one of them learned of something on their own. 

Maybe she told him not to tell anyone, Wangji thought, though that didn’t exactly seem like enough for the boy to keep it to himself. Perhaps she threatened him? That seems even less likely given that she seems to take more after himself when it comes to dealing with people. Maybe not outright threaten, but definitely something to have him stay his tongue.

Maybe Lan Wangji should pull back before he has to admit to himself that he is growing a sense of attachment to his would-be children despite the fact that he most certainly isn’t their father even if their father had been him in the past. 

He lets his thoughts on the matter rest for now. 

“Shuilan values her independence. Being courted by and marrying a sect disciple would clash with such a lifestyle.”

Nie Huaisang pouts at that. “It doesn’t have to be that serious,” he mumbles.

Wangji’s eyes narrow in response, “Dishonourable.”

All–barring his brother–flinch at his tone. Jin Zixuan’s expression sours at the talk of marriage. 

The conversation becomes palpably more awkward.

Lan Xichen clears his throat, “Wangji, I’m sure nothing of the sort is happening.”

“Mn.”

“But I feel that I should remind you that Shuilan is quite accustomed to more casual displays of friendship regarding the opposite gender,” Lan Xichen’s tone becomes slightly cautious. “She does allow her rogue cultivator friend to stay with her in her home without a chaperone.”

Only years of tightly reigning in his emotions prevent Wangji from glaring at his brother. 

“She did not state the gender of her friend.”

“Given how giggly the girl serving us at the inn was, I'm inclined to disagree,” Lan Xichen arches a brow at his brother’s defensive tone. “I’m not saying that she’s living a life of degeneracy, but she clearly lives by different rules.”

To that Wangji has no denial. Three years living among common people undoubtedly shows in her behaviour, but one also cannot deny the fact that while she does blend in with them, Wei Shuilan is still set apart form them. The villagers have a respect for her that makes it clear she didn’t grow up as one of them. Three years living as a rogue cultivator doesn’t erase the years before spent as a sect disciple.

The conversation picks up again and Lan Wangji has nothing else to add.

—-------

Wei Shuilan smiles genuinely as Lan Boyu enthusiastically discusses his research with her. She could barely hold back her amusement when the boy was clearly holding himself back from rushing through his meal so that he wouldn’t break the no talking while eating rule in his desire to begin their discussion as quickly as he could.

Though she seldom ever finds herself without some sort of project to work on, it has been some time since she has been able to discuss musical cultivation with someone who understands her work, even more rare does she find herself with someone she can bounce ideas off of. She’d almost forgotten she had agreed to the meeting and only had the sense to change into more appropriate attire before a servant came to escort her to the pavilion.

After she let the older disciple look at her own instrument the ice had broken cleanly and delighted conversation had emerged from the water. Once Lan Boyu got past his initial anxiety he was actually rather easygoing. 

“A spiritual instrument is a sacred tool, so I understand that each one should be cultivated by the individual disciple, but I never understood why we couldn’t make them with same spiritual conductivity the same way that we do with other spiritual tools such as our swords,” Lan Boyu said with fervor. “While you can pour spiritual energy into a sword it doesn’t retain it in the same way that a spiritual sword could because they are crafted specifically for that purpose. So why would we not be able to do the same with our instruments?”

“One could argue that because training for musical cultivation begins much earlier than sword cultivation we don’t need it,” Shuilan says, more just to see his reaction.

Lan Boyu’s smile widens almost imperceptibly, “Oh? But if you really believed that you wouldn’t have written a treatise saying otherwise, now would you?”

Shuilan grins into her tea cup before schooling her expression.

“There’s always room for improvement,” she said casually. “It’s true that with the extra time dedicated to musical cultivation, the cultivator is able to make up for the instrument’s lack of conductivity by the time that disciples go on their first night hunts, nor does it show to be an issue for strong cultivators who begin later in life, but it would definitely make it easier for those with lower cultivation prowess.”

“Yes, exactly!” Lan Boyu exclaims. “It’s one thing for children and strong cultivators to learn musical cultivation, but what of those who have become spiritually handicapped? For many of them their instruments stop responding to them altogether.”

The crux of the issue is that cultivation was really not intended to be accessible. It’s similar to sporting events in the sense that some simply have natural advantages. If something has happened to impede a cultivator’s progress, or they suffer an injury to their spiritual pathways, the expected response is usually to stop. Only meditation is expected of them and to some extent it’s understandable, with the added fact that cultivators tend to be prideful people who follow straight and narrow paths when it comes to their cultivation practices and therefore don’t tend to deal well with failure. For those who start later in life, they are never expected to be strong, and something like musical cultivation remains out of reach in its entirety.

Shuilan nods, encouraging him to continue.  

“Being able to imbue spiritual energy into the materials before the instruments are made would guarantee conductivity, which would ensure higher efficiency as a spiritual conduit.”

“But in order to do so you would need a way to make sure that the spiritual energy from the materials doesn’t interfere with the cultivator’s own qi, which is why my theory was dismissed after I wrote it.”

Lan Boyu deflates at that before he straightens up again.

“But there is an example of an instrument that was made to be a perfect conduit of energy,” he trails off hesitantly. 

Shuilan squints slightly as she eyes him curiously. He takes in a breath and continues to speak.

“Chenqing,” he says quietly, nervously, waiting for her reaction.

The corners of her lips quirk up.

“Chenqing is an outlier I believe, and the opposite type of energy we want to conduct,” she says with no small amount of amusement.

Lan Boyu clears his throat to hide his newly flustered state, “Yes, well, I believe that we could utilize a similar idea.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“The Cloud Recesses has an abundance of spiritual energy because of all the musical cultivation, yes?”

“Indeed.”

 “All of our homes, classrooms, shared areas, are soaked with spiritual energy.”

“Mn.”

“Similar to how the dirt and bamboo in the Burial Mounds is soaked in resentful energy.”

Shuilan regards him, impressed that he isn’t shying away from a line of thinking that would most definitely have the elders pitching a fit.

“It is what made Chenqing so powerful,” she says, feeling thoughtful, and letting her face relax at the sight of the tension leaving the boy’s shoulders. “If you brought the materials here and let them sit for some time, it would allow for the ambient spiritual energy to absorb some of it on its own. Though it wouldn’t be as great of an effect as in the Burial Mounds because of the difference in concentration and amount of time.” Shuilan looks him in the eyes to gauge how committed he would be to the project. “It would be a long-term goal.”

Lan Boyu begins to nod excitedly. “Yes it would, but the benefits from it working would make it worth it.”

Shuilan’s heart feels lighter than it has in quite some time.

“Musical cultivation truly is a wondrous thing,” she says more to herself.

Lan Boyu's smile softens, “It certainly isn’t as interesting to young, glory seeking young masters, but I’m quite partial to it as well.”

“Oh? I never would have guessed,” Shuilan teases.

“I could say the same to you,” he quips back. “Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Laozu’s child having no appreciation for music? It would have been blasphemous.”

A startled laugh escapes her as she looks to him disbelievingly.

His expression unrepentant and as gleeful as it could be for a Lan.

No wonder he gets along with gege and Jingyi, she thinks with delight.

The conversation goes from there and the two continue to go back and forth, exchanging ideas and rebuttals. This is probably the most she’s enjoyed herself since coming back to the Cloud Recesses. As much as she loves them, Sizhui and Jingyi don’t have as much interest in the more purely academic pursuits, preferring things that will aid them directly in their nighthunts and cultivation prowess. Not that Shuilan blames them for it, and it’s not like they look down on her for her own projects when they know she could be out there night hunting whenever she wanted.

There is a lull in their dialogue as they both take a break to sip at their now lukewarm tea. Shuilan uses a little bit of her qi to warm the teapot again before pouring more into both of their cups. Lan Boyu thanks her as he takes his cup back. He looks at her with an expression that Shuilan isn’t quite used to, but its far from unpleasant.

“Regardless of his history, Wei Wuxian was unparalleled when it came to his skill with his instrument.”

“That’s not the part people tend to focus on,” she says wryly.

“Shuilan,” he says her name hesitantly, but continues to respect her preferred way of address. “I don’t know how often you hear this, but it really wasn’t right how you were treated here.”

Shuilan doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t speak at all.

“Regardless of your background, or who your father was, you are still a member of the main family.”

Are. 

The stinging in her eyes brings back her ability to talk.

“Thank you.”

The older boy smiles at her, and pretends not to notice when she tries to discreetly blink away her tears. She is not unused to kindness, but she really has forgotten that younger cultivators are a different generation. At least in the Lan Sect.

“It must be hard for you considering what’s happened recently,” Lan Boyu sighs.

Shuilan tilts her head in confusion, “Pardon?”

“With the recent sighting of the Ghost General,” Lan Boyu continues looking off into the distant field and missing the way that his companion has frozen. “I didn’t see him myself but I heard that Young Master Mo had been the one to get him away from the other junior disciples.”

Lan Boyu startles at the sound of porcelain shattering and rushes to her side to see if she’s alright.

Shuilan stares down at the broken pieces that have fallen to the ground next to her heart.

Chapter Text

Wei Shuilan.

That was the name that Young Master Wei had bestowed upon the little corpse that had been given to him by the Burial Mounds. The resentful energy came from Young Master Wei, but Wen Ning knows that it was the Burial Mounds’ will that resulted in this sentient being that isn’t quite alive, similar to Wen Ning but different. If it had absorbed the resentful energy into itself this wouldn’t have happened.

She’s missing vital parts, like a pulse, her skin too pale and gray, and her hair is not quite the right texture, but she is roughly the shape of a toddler and she has already learned to speak in full sentences. 

She’s mostly quiet though, content to listen to A-yuan and let his little cousin drag his new “little sister” around their settlement. Wen Ning doesn’t think he’s seen the young boy this happy, finally having someone his size to play with. A-yuan loves her, and the fierce corpse can feel just how fond the little corpse is of him as well. 

Young Master Wei finds Shuilan adorable, even if he still doesn’t understand how she came to be. He encourages A-yuan to be a big brother, talked A-jie into giving Shuilan lessons with A-yuan, and the other Wens to treat her like the child they’re not quite sure she is. They’ve all grown used to her presence. Granny calls her Shui’er. The rest of them follow suit. 

Shui’er. Their little flood. 

When she isn’t with A-yuan, Shuilan likes to sit and watch everyone. She watches them fix their little huts, watches granny sew old garments, the aunties cook, the uncles tend the radish field, and A-jie manage the stock. A-jie talks about medicine at the little corpse despite the fact that she likely doesn’t understand what Wen Qing is about, but she nods her head with her stiff neck like she does. 

Wen Ning would protect her for the rest of his existence. She was family now.

Shui’er’s favourite thing to do is follow Young Master Wei around, hobbling after him on clumsy little feet. When she and A-yuan are both with Young Master Wei is when the Yiling Laozu looks the most content, feels the most at peace. Wen Ning is glad that his friend is able to find some peace in this wasteland he and his family have trapped him in. 

The young master would be upset if he heard Wen Ning say that.

Wen Ning thinks he knows what happened. 

His friend had been speaking of how resentful energy has more agency than spiritual energy due to the inherent nature of each one. Resentful energy comes from strong emotions, of regret, sorrow, and anger that a person feels in their final moments before they die, it only makes sense that the energy has more personality as a result. 

While Young Master Wei is able to dispel the buildup of resentful energy in his body, he isn’t able to dissipate it completely without something to balance it out. 

The Burial Mounds would practically sing when he does this, adding to the miasma that’s already there. 

Wen Ning can feel its infatuation with the young master’s resentful energy, his regrets, his sorrows, his pain.

Wei Wuxian’s suffering. 

But instead of absorbing the excess into itself, it left it alone, allowing it to gain its own sentience.

It gave Wei Wuxian a gift.

A gift that was completed when the Second Young Master of the Lan Sect came to visit the Yiling Laozu. 

Wei Wuxian does not believe in fate. He doesn’t, because if it was fate that killed his parents and left him defenseless on the streets then he has some questions for the ones in charge of deciding that shit. He’s going to fight whatever entity is responsible for making this his life.

He sits in the library again glaring balefully at the papers that litter the table. He’s hit a wall and he doesn’t know how to get past it.

He’s been doing so well, he’s made so much progress that Lan Qiren has started waiting for his cues on how he should proceed rather than constantly monitoring what to do. The elders have even agreed to leave the bulk of tasks up to him.

And now he’s hit a wall.

He doesn’t know what to do now.

He has nothing to work with.

The talisman is dependent on the traveler’s spiritual energy. It is dependent on knowing how far into the future one wishes to travel.

Wei Wuxian has neither. 

He stares so hard at his papers they may catch fire soon. 

He startles as a hand firmly grasps his shoulder and nearly bites it off in frustration. He’s felt so agitated the last few days, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped someone’s head off yet, especially when the other guest disciples try to ask him what has happened. 

Wei Wuxian looks up at his teacher, who is looking down at him with furrowed brows. 

He probably saw the boy trying to start a fire with his eyes and decided to intervene before he actually manifests it. Ha! with everything that’s happened Wei Wuxian’s not gonna deny the possibility.

“Lan laoshi,” he salutes from his sitting position. He can’t bring himself to stand and he’s too tired to care if the old man is offended, a testament to how sleep-deprived he’s gotten.

He’s already fucked up, whatever punishment he gets can’t really make him feel any worse than he already does.

Wei Wuxian can’t read the old man’s expression so he doesn’t try to interpret the way the man’s face tightens even further. He doesn’t look away from his teacher and catches the quick glance he gives to the mess on the table. Wei Wuxian doesn’t really know what he’s expecting, but the soft sigh Lan Qiren lets out isn’t really it.

“Wei Wuxian,” the old man’s gruff voice says softly, “When was the last time you slept?”

Properly? He can’t recall, so he shrugs.

“How do you expect to accomplish anything in this state?” the old man scolds.

A bubble of indignation fueled by his already irritable state nearly has Wei Wuxian biting out a response. ‘ I’ve accomplished plenty ,’ is on the tip of his tongue.

Before he delfates and lets his head hang down in shame. 

It’s because of his so-called accomplishments that they’re in this mess at all.

His eyes start to sting, and then he feels the wetness of his cheeks drip down to the back of his hands clenched tightly on lap.

Wei Wuxian grits his teeth feeling fucking mortified as he suppresses his cries lest he humiliates himself further in front of Lan Qiren.

He doesn’t dare lift his head.

Lan Qiren is a fool.

A bigger fool than he thought he was because he was under the impression that after that initial incident in the library, the boy was in a better headspace to be working on a solution. 

Staring at the crying child in front of him reminds Lan Qiren that regardless of the boy’s talents and capabilities, he is still just a boy.

A boy he’s clearly not been supporting enough while he attempts to rectify an accident that has been made clearer to him throughout the passing days. The initial explanation did not paint Wei Wuxian in a positive light, but he realises now that it was because the account was given by a guilt ridden child, who was prepared to take on more responsibilities than he was ready for. 

It seems that he fails as a teacher in the things that truly matter.

While he had not been content to let Wei Wuxian figure out all the necessary mechanisms of the talisman by himself, he could admit that there was very little he could do to assist if even their sect’s talisman master hadn’t been able to keep up. But that is no excuse for the lack of support he had given the boy.

That changes now. 

Especially now that almost a week has gone by and they can no longer delay informing the other sects of what had transpired. Lan Qiren hadn’t wanted to wait this long, they were only delaying in order to figure out the whole picture, to gather evidence of what happened to present to the other sects as proof and insurance that the Lan were not incriminated, but a part of the teacher admits that it was also to delay and prepare Wei Wuxian for the worst. This happened under the supervision of the Lan Sect, but Wei Wuxian makes for an easy scapegoat in this situation, something that the elders of the sect will not hesitate to use. They would do the honourable thing and take responsibility for allowing such a thing to happen but the other sects will demand retribution from the one at the centre of the mess. With the Jiang Heir missing as well there is no telling whether Wei Wuxian will be backed by the Jiang Sect or if they’ll be content to allow for whatever punishment the others deem fit. Given the boy’s unstable position in the sect there is no predicting what will happen.

“Wei Wuxian,” he said just as quietly as before. He doesn’t know how to be soft. Not with the elders who demand harshness and rigidity from him, not with his brother who had thrown his life away and forced his responsibilities onto his shoulders with not even a whisper of regret, not even with his beloved nephews whom he is more a father to than an uncle. Especially not with Wangji, whom the elders feared would emulate his father, who was needed as a spare in the scenario that Xichen proved incapable. 

Lan Qiren gazes at the boy quietly crying in front of him, who still won’t raise his head, and makes a decision. 

He gently pulls the boy to his feet, confused eyes meeting his. He guides his student out of the library and calls for a servant to clear the table and bring the papers to his study, and another to bring calming tea from the kitchens. Neither bat an eye at the state of the young master at his side. 

There is a weight in his sleeve that Wei Wuxian doesn’t notice as he’s being ushered out of the library. He doesn’t notice it as the old man takes him to his study and sits him in front of a table that had been arranged by the servants that were called to deal with the mess that Wei Wuxian had left behind. 

He feels like he’s floating, he doesn’t feel like he's in control of himself at the moment which is a strange feeling and he’s certain that he doesn’t like it. The only thing Wei Wuxian ever truly has control over is his thoughts–always reading the room to see how much trouble he can cause, so acutely aware of other people’s feelings–but even now they feel too far away from him. Right now he feels like nothing. He doesn’t like being nothing.

He sips tea from the cup that has been placed in his hand; he hasn’t looked up once. Lan Qiren doesn’t say anything, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t doubt that even if his teacher had he would not have understood it. His thoughts are back and they are loud. He needs to go back to the library, he can’t be wasting his time like this. The longer they wait the higher the chance of failure. 

He sets down the cup and feels something brush against his forearm and frowns. That was too stiff, too rough for it to be his sleeve, and all his papers are in front of him courtesy of the servants.

He reaches into his sleeve and pulls out an unfamiliar note.

Wei Wuxian startles so abruptly he knocks over both cups, whose contents pour over all the previous research he’s done over the last few days.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters because he doesn’t need it anymore. 

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren chastises, shocked out of his own pondering.“What on earth are you doing?”

Wei Wuxian finds his voice again as he hands the paper to the Grandmaster.

“They’re okay,” his voice but a whisper. 

Lan Qiren watches as a smile takes over the boy’s face, the first one since the sect heirs had disappeared.

“Baba?”

“Yes, A-yuan?”

“Will Rich-gege come back?”

“Rich-gege? Who’s rich-, wait, do you mean Hanguang-jun?”

“Yeah!”

“...Pfft!”

“Baba! No, Baba! Give it back! Why are you laughing?”

“A-yuan, my precious little radish, Hanguang-jun is more than just rich.”

"Hmph."

"Haha. Okay, okay, here."

“Hmmm, okay. But will he come back to play with me and A-lan?”

“... No. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“There is no ‘why.’ In this world, everyone has their own things to do… their own paths to walk. He’s busy enough already; how could he have time to flutter about down here?”  And we aren’t walking down the same path anymore.

“Oh.”

Wei Wuxian stops walking and kneels down to turn the little boy to face him. He tilts the boy’s chin up to face him, a sad little frown pulling on his mouth. Wei Wuxian gives him his own sad little smile.

“A-yuan, no matter what happens, we love you. Me, Qing-jiejie, Ning-gege, granny, all the aunties and uncles, and Shui’er.”

A-yuan nods, not quite understanding but feeling the sincerity in his Baba’s voice.

“You’re an older brother now, A-yuan, okay?” Wei Wuxian’s voice starts to choke, “So you and Shui’er have to take care of each other.”

A-yuan nods, firmly this time, and goes to hug the sadness away from his Baba.

Chapter Text

“Qiren, the Sect Leaders have responded and will be here in two days time.”

Wei Shuilan ends her meeting on an embarrassed note as the young master profusely apologizes to her, thinking that she already knew of the happenings from her brother.

Her brother. Who was there when it all happened and didn’t think to tell her.

Jin Zixuan can’t remember a time when people did not speak negatively of his mother’s relationship with his father. The Jin heir respects his father as much as he loves him—he is not an unfilial child—but they are not close. Jin Zixuan receives praise from his father when he is successful on his nighthunts, he was present during his training as a boy, made sure his son understood what it meant to be the heir of the Jin Sect, and he lavishes his son with gifts on his birthdays and other celebrations. 

But Jin Zixuan is his mother’s son before he is anything else. 

His mother who was the target of malicious gossip, of whispers asking why they only had one son when even the Lan Sect, as prudish as they are, have a spare heir. Jin Zixuan was five years old the first time he could remember the maids giggling with each other as they exited his father’s chambers. He remembers his mother’s quiet fury as she led him away from the corridor. 

Those maids were nowhere to be seen the day after. 

Jin Zixuan was eight when he finally realised that his father was an unfaithful husband, and that he would never change. It didn’t matter that she was his rightful wife and the mother of his only child. It didn’t matter how much his mother cried, for it was always alone away from scrutinizing eyes. It didn’t matter that their fighting increased and scared Jin Zixuan as a child. 

Jin Guangshan, the Sect Leader of Lanling Jin, would not change. So Jin Zixuan thought if his father wouldn’t change then he would learn to be better.

Then he met his betrothed, Jiang Yanli of Yunmeng Jiang, and suddenly he thought he understood why his father was so unhappy with his marriage. To be tied to a woman not of his own choosing, to someone he didn’t even know. Jin Zixuan wasn’t going to be an unfaithful husband, but he decided then that if he was to be forced into a marriage then he would at least make his displeasure with the arrangement known. Unfortunately he didn’t take into account her brother and her father’s ward. If he didn’t already have a reason to protest the marriage, those two alone were enough. 

Deciding immediately that he wasn’t good enough for Jiang Yanli, as if she was some sort of beloved treasure, when in reality she was an average looking young mistress and a weak cultivator. Jin Zixuan wonders now if that was just how one acted when they had siblings to care for. 

Looking at the way both Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi care for Wei Shuilan, he’s reminded once again of how lonely his own upbringing was, how different it looks when you have people your age so close to you. Jin Zixuan watches the trio in the Jingshi along with the rest of the young masters as they wait for Wei Shuilan to change her attire, realizing that one clothed in a commoner’s dress while in the company of wealthy young masters would invite stares from the residents of Caiyi Town. Or they would assume she was a servant, but Jin Zixuan wasn’t going to say that in front of everyone. Grandmaster Lan had stopped them on their way out of the dining pavilion and informed Wei Shuilan 

The group was uncharacteristically quiet, even Nie Huaisang seemed content to wait in silence rather than go on about the different shops he would visit. Jiang Wanyin had been rather pensive since the previous day for reasons none of them could deduce, and the Twin Jades of Lan seemed to be conversing without speaking as they usually did. Jin Zixuan wonders how much of this was due to the—apparently controversial—conversation they had at lunch yesterday. The Jin heir doesn’t really understand, nor does he care to, but it truly appeared that Lan Wangji was upset with Nie Huaisang over the boy’s overly romantic notions of Wei Shuilan’s life. In his opinion, there’s not much to be upset about. Nie Huaisang was likely unserious, and only aiming to frustrate the other boy. If anyone was allowed to be upset over such things it was the two boys who actually belonged to this timeline, and were the only ones behaving entirely as they normally do.

“Hurry up so you can tell us about your clandestine affair with our friend!” Lan Jingyi teases mercilessly, raising his voice as the girl disappears from sight.

“Yelling is forbidden,” Lan Sizhui elbows the other boy, an unimpressed look on his face.

Lan Jingyi merely grins in response. “I’m just saying, if she was getting tired of our company she could have just told us instead of arranging a secret meeting with Lan Boyu.”

A knock interrupts Lan Sizhui’s response.

Giving his unrepentant friend one last look, he walks towards the door and lets the servant girl in.

“Wei-guniang’s robes, gongzi,” she bows as she holds out the fabrics.

Lan Sizhui nods, “She’s in her old room.”

The girl respectfully inclines her head as she walks past them and heads to where Wei Shuilan was getting dressed.

“Do you think Shuilan’s actually going to wear them?”

“She’ll probably haggle down a layer or two, but she won’t make a big deal out of it,” Lan Sizhui reasons. “Besides, the dress doesn’t look overly ornate, just better material.”

“Also helps that it isn’t white,” Lan Jingyi mumbles under his breath. Jin Zixuan’s squints at that. 

Honestly why cut all your ties to a sect but not the family, it feels like an insufficient statement. Although, the Jin heir ponders, it wouldn’t be surprising if it was her family that asked to keep in contact. He tries not to think of the fact that he can’t imagine his father doing the same as Hanguang-jun if Jin Zixuan just decided one day that he didn’t want to be affiliated with the Lanling Jin Sect. Jin Zixuan also tries not to think of what that says about his father that Hanguang-jun of all people seemed like a warmer presence.

Wei Shuilan returns to the main area of the Jingshi with the servant at her side. 

At first he’s shocked at the sight of her dark hair completely loose, as the servant hands her a jade hair stick before bowing and departing. Perhaps he’s been listening to too much of Nie Huaisang’s fanciful retellings of plays that he has seen recently, but Jin Zixuan was expecting a more dramatic change when she swapped her commoner’s clothes for something more akin to what a sect daughter would don on, that she would look like a different person maybe. The change in her person is more subtle, perhaps he only notices because he’s looking for it. The smooth fabric draped on her is more delicate than her previous attire, both in texture and colour, a blue just dark enough to distinguish itself from the white robes her companions wear. The outer robe falls just past her torso, covering the sheer fabric of the inner robe, while the skirt is long enough to hide her feet, the embroidery along the hems precise and carefully done. The largest difference is the billowing sleeves, absent of the tightly bound leather bracers she favours, likely to prevent ink stains from all the writing she does. Jin Zixuan respects the practicality of it. Wei Shuilan walks in, undoubtedly the same girl that has been working herself tirelessly on an impossible task, just in different clothes.

And yet she stands before them just a touch more unapproachable than she has been previously. Her generally blank expression looking more demure, framed by the loose hair falling down her back. She stands in front of Lan Sizhui and holds out the hair stick, which the boy takes with a smile on his face after recovering from his own shocked response.

(She looks just like their father, albeit less malnourished and worn out, with her hair down.)

The younger sister turns facing away from him, hands clasped together hidden under her sleeves as she lets her brother pull her hair up into a simple knot at the crown of her head. 

Nie Huaisang finally breaks his silence. 

“Xiao-wei! Your hair is so long,” the young master marvels. “It’s such a shame to tie all of it up like that.”

“Mn. I’m not fond of leaving it down, it gets in the way,” she says calmly.

Lan Sizhui secures the knot with the hair stick and places his hands on her shoulders to turn her around and inspect his handiwork. He nods in satisfaction as Wei Shuilan gently pets the bun, careful not to unravel it by mistake. 

Lan Jingyi claps his hands together, a bright grin on his face. “Okay! Let’s head out now and Shuilan can tell us about her secret meeting.”

Wei Shuilan rolled her eyes and leveled the boy with a flat stare. “I told you, it wasn’t a secret I just forgot to tell you about it.”

Lan Jingyi lets out a hum, making it clear that it doesn’t matter what she says, he’s going to continue to tease her for it.

“So many assumptions,” Wei Shuilan says as she uses her sleeve to slap at the boy’s chest. “And you call yourself a Lan.”

This is the part where they all start to feel impatient to escape the Could Recesses for some time, but Jin Zixuan can’t find it in himself to be annoyed by the display. Jin Zixuan is not a patient young master. Patience is not a skill that he needs extensive practice in given his station in life. No, patience is not something he is familiar with but the young master finds himself less anxious after their first attempt at establishing communication with the past. It may be due to the fact that he’s been exposed to a ridiculous number of impossibilities as of late, or the fact that the three of them, with the backing of Grandmaster Lan, are so confident in their endeavors and don’t seem to make a big deal of possible failings. We’ll just try again, that was what Lan Jingyi said when asked what happens if the device doesn’t succeed. Maybe Jin Zixuan should be more anxious about the borderline careless attitude towards it now of all times, when they feel so close to actually getting them home, but he doesn’t. Feel more anxious that is. 

Everything else they’ve done has been successful, and it’s not like he would know what to do about it if it wasn’t. That’s likely why he feels fine leaving it up to the rest of them to worry.

They head out of the Jingshi to the main gates of the sect where they are supposed to meet with Zewu-jun.

Wei Wuxian holds his breath as compares the tool he’s just built to the schematics on the table in front of him. A communicator, that’s what it’s been labeled on the papers, and Wei Wuxian finds himself fascinated by the very idea of remote, instantaneous communication that isn’t as flashy and conspicuous as a Jin Butterfly. He also finds himself a bit disappointed that he can’t speak with an actual toolmaker about the intricacies of the design itself, needing to keep the number of people who know what truly happened as low as they can lest they cause a panic. The tool itself is a simple brush with a detachable casing around the handle of the brush that the schematics indicated would be where the received correspondence will appear, and will not be received unless the casing is attached to the brush. To send one off the paper has to be wrapped around the outside of the casing separated from the bush, once it is placed you simply activate it by imbuing it with your spiritual energy. This tool in particular is different, because rather than being used as a regular communicator, it is to be combined with the time travel talisman and the residual spiritual energy that was used to send off Jiang Cheng’s letter. The tool will be anchored to that specific point in time now that Wei Wuxian knows that he needs to send his response forward twenty years into the future. Afterwards Wei Wuxian and whoever is on the other end with their communicator will have a direct line of communication between them. The entire process is so simple and efficient it’s almost baffling in its own way.

The young man traces the etchings he carved into the metal of the tool and feels hopeful. Perhaps the person who drew the schematics with the instructions would be amenable to answering some of Wei Wuxian’s questions outside of getting the sect heirs home.

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, as if to dislodge the thoughts from his head. His eagerness to develop his own theories were the reason that everything went to shit, best not to get ahead of himself before they even finish with their current problems first. 

Still.

It’s a miracle that it was Lan Zhan’s son that found them in their hour of need, and even better that the young master seemed well equipped to deal with the issue head on. Wei Wuxian would like to meet this Lan Sizhui because if he’s even half the young master his father is then he must be something special. Even the boy’s penmanship is flawless, almost delicate looking characters carefully detailing instructions. A talented young man indeed.

Though Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel as though there’s something off about it. Not about Lan Sizhui, mind you, but about the fact that it was a Lan the talisman sent the sect heirs to. It doesn’t match up with all the research that Wei Wuxian’s done so far. Neither Lan Zhan or Xichen-ge were close enough to have activated the talisman, it was most definitely either himself or Jiang Cheng whose spiritual energy was absorbed by the talisman. And yet, no mention of a future Jiang Wanyin or Wei Wuxian, nowhere near Yunmeng Jiang, in fact it sounded like they landed in some remote village as far from the major sects as they could have gotten given the circumstances. It’s not adding up.

Unless Wei Wuxian really did leave the Jiang Sect, and from the cultivation world it seems. The talisman may have tried to get them as close as they could to his future self, but not close enough. If that was the case then he’s even more grateful to Lan Zhan’s son for being in the area. 

Lan Zhan’s son, Lan Sizhui, Wei Wuxian thinks with a mirthless smile, I wonder what he was yearning for to give his son such a name. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the quiet footfalls of his teacher approaching him. He turns to the direction of it and respectfully greets the man as he comes to a stop before him.

“Wei Wuxian,” the old man begins, looking sterner than usual. “We’ve contacted the other sects about what’s happened.” Lan Qiren takes in his appearance, searching for something in the boy in front of him.

“Though I would prefer otherwise, you must be present during the meeting to explain what had happened as the only witness.”

The boy fights the wince that rises. He steels his posture and nods at the man.

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

If Wei Wuxian didn’t know any better he’d say the Grandmaster was looking at him with sympathy.

“This happened under my supervision,” the teacher says firmly.

Wei Wuxian nods a bit hesitant, not quite understanding.

 “I will make it clear that you were working with my permission and that what had happened was an unfortunate accident that the Lan Sect will be rectifying, and has been working to fix.”

His eyes widened, starting to see what the man was saying.

Lan Qiren continues to speak.

“You will explain exactly what transpired in the moments before the sect heirs disappeared.”

“Laoshi-,” Wei Wuxian goes to respond but the old man interrupts him.

“You will explain that Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan had begun another altercation, and that while trying to deescalate the situation the array formation and talisman that I assigned you to work on was activated by accident.”

Lan Qiren stares at the boy with an intensity that Wei Wuxian isn’t used to with the absence of anger and frustration that he hadn’t put there himself. 

Wei Wuxian finds himself gaping at the man in front of him, unable to conjure up any words that would be appropriate in response. He doesn’t understand the point of telling the Sect leaders of the pointless fight that happened before everything. He doesn’t understand why that would be helpful—they are still likely to blame him for making the talisman in the first place—and that’s before they have to convince the sects of time travel. 

Lan Qiren watches as the boy before him wars with his emotions.

“Wei Wuxian.”

The boy’s gaze snaps up from where it had shifted to his feet. His expression confused and growing more upset as he looks at the older man. He feels more like a child than he has in a while.

“Do you understand what you are to do.” It’s not a question.

Wei Wuxian suppresses the urge to gulp and squares his shoulders.

“Yes, laoshi.”

Chapter Text

The waters surrounding Lotus Pier are beautiful in their stillness, merely holding the lotus flowers atop the surface with the wind wafting the floral scents through the open pavilions. 

The ever changing nature of water an ever present threat to such beauty and calm. Dangerous in its vacillation between life and death.

Yu Ziyuan glares at her husband’s back. The leader of the Jiang Sect doesn’t turn around, he has no plans of turning around and facing her, no, just like every other time they disagree, the man chooses to be a coward parading in the skin of a peacekeeper. Her shoulders are tense and she feels the constant thrum of spiritual energy that goes through Zidian as she waits for him to speak, not wanting to waste her breath trying to force an answer out of him.

“I will make the trip tomorrow,” Jiang Fengmian says placidly. “Lan Qiren didn’t include many details, only stressed the urgency of the appointment. The other Major Sect leaders will be there as well.”

Yu Ziyuan narrowed her eyes further at the man who still hasn’t turned around. 

“And what could be so urgent to require a trip on such short notice.”

Jiang Fengmian’s hands tighten behind his back, a reaction that causes his wife’s temper to abate slightly in favour of concern. 

“Something has happened to A-cheng. Along with the other sect heirs.”

Yu Ziyuan’s heart stops.

She takes a breath.

The disciples and servants, alike, of Lotus Pier take special care to avoid the Master and Madam of the sect for some time lest they wish to forfeit their lives. 

—

The residents of Caiyi smile upon the group of cultivators that make their way through their town, bowing respectfully at the friendly but imposing figure of the Lan Sect leader accompanying the junior disciples. 

Shuilan is the first to suggest that they split up to the delight of Nie Huaisang who is eager to see what material is offered now at his favourite book store, though not without lamenting his lack of funds making the other young masters in a similar situation flinch in sympathy. For all that the young masters think it uncharacteristic of Shuilan, Sizhui knows that she needs the time to wander alone, as restricted as she’s felt within the confines of the Cloud recesses. So Gusu’s young heir simply smiles, nodding at the suggestion and managing to distract their uncle so that his sister can slip away unnoticed.

If Shuilan needs them she has her communicator on her. 

Shuilan walks around rather aimlessly for a short time, grateful for the unquestioning nature of her elder brother even if she wishes to shake him witless and scream into his face, asking him why he didn’t think it important to mention that their previously thought dead uncle had made himself known to them once more. And, moreover, that the young master that their father had taken a shine to had been capable of controlling him when no one other than their baba had ever been able to do so out of sheer devotion and loyalty from the fierce corpse. Not that the sects had ever understood the nature of the relationship between the Yiling Patriarch and his Ghost General, his best friend. 

Her uncle. 

She sighs and steps off of the path, uninterested in causing a halt in the foot traffic, before her eyes land on the loquat seller that had stopped them when they had first brought the young masters through the familiar yet distant town. She reaches into her sleeves to feel for her coin purse before walking over to the stall with a hand resting on Suibian’s hilt where it is sheathed at her hip, her dizi resting on the other.

As Shuilan makes her way to the stall the vendor finishes packaging the fruit for a customer and thanks the mother for her purchase. Shuilan tries to keep the frustration she feels from her expression, lest she scare the hapless vendor. The young woman looks up from where she’s cataloguing her wares and smiles brightly, recognizing the girl approaching.

“Guniang!” the loquat vendor greets happily. “Back again for more?”

Shuilan’s expression melts into something more genuine as she smiles back at her. “You gave us quite a few but they were gone before we noticed.”

The vendor preens in response, satisfied. “Happy to hear it. Though I hope you know, these ones won’t be free,” she winks teasingly.

Shuilan huffs a little laugh, amused as she pulls out her coin purse. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The vendor makes quick work of packaging more fruit.

“Say, guniang,” the vendor says. “You aren’t a Lan Cultivator, are you? An outer disciple?”

Shuilan fights the instinctual need to defend herself at the inquiry. She thanks the years of learning to suppress her reactions for that, as she takes the fruit she’s been handed, hugging the bag to her chest.

“No, just a humble rogue who’s offered some assistance,” she says simply. The vendor's eyes light up with curiosity. “May I have your name, miss?” 

The vendor grin widens before answering, “Mei lin, guniang.”

Shuilan dips her chin in response, “Wei Shuilan.”

“Nice to meet you, Wei-guniang,” the vendor replies happily. “Can I ask about how you ended up with our Lans, or is that off limits to us outsiders?”

The teasing tone unfurls the last bit of tension in Shuilan’s posture and she can’t help the soft giggle that escapes her. “That would depend on the questions, Mei Lin.”

“Ah fair enough, Wei-guniang,” she laughs. “But surely I can ask where your companions have gone?”

“I wanted to walk around by myself for a bit,” Shuilan shrugs. It’s not untrue. “It’s been so long since I’ve last been to Caiyi.”

“And how does it fair against your memory?” Mei lin asks with a theatrical whisper.

Shuilan looks around, taking in the bustling streets of Caiyi. Well, bustling in comparison to the small village she’d welcomed as her home. “Exactly as it was before.”

Mei lin doesn’t comment on the wistful voice that she had to strain to hear. She knows the sound of longing when she hears it, the question now is what is Wei Shuilan longing for.

“Indeed, Caiyi has always been so lovely,” she says after a slight pause. 

The vendor smiles wondering how someone so young could sound so burdened. “I agree.”

The two girls share a smile.

As if a dam had broken, Mei lin asks question after question with Shuilan happy to answer each one. A pang of homesickness hits her, Mei lin reminding her of Zhang Shiyin and her insatiable desire to know all that she could about nighthunting from Wei Shuilan. It’s not even been three weeks but Shuilan already misses the village greatly with the oppressive air of the Lan Sect regardless of how much space her family is trying to give her. Perhaps that itself was the problem. 

The villagers care not for space. Not when eating together, not when visiting each other's establishments, not when planning for the seasonal struggles they face each year. Shuilan misses the feelings of community that are inherent to living in such a close-knit place, the ones that the Lan had never afforded her, opting instead to keep her only close enough out of respect but never allowing her to fully integrate with their people. Shuilan wasn’t built to withstand the polite distance of cultivation society either, as the child of such an important man and they all knew it. And what were they to do if they couldn’t marry her off if not bleed her dry as compensation for letting her into the sect at all.

Shuilan pushes the uncomfortable thoughts away before a young man approaches the stall. Shuilan shifts a bit to the side, not wanting to get in the way of the vendor’s sales. 

“Three loquats, miss,” the young man says to Mei lin.

Shuilan is about to take this as her queue to leave, aiming a smile at Mei lin before turning and going about her day when the young man addresses her.

“Pardon me, guniang?” he begins, and Shuilan notes the way his gaze slips down to Suibian before quickly fixing his eyes back onto her face. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. Are you a cultivator from a visiting sect?”

Shuilan takes in the man before her, robes and posture indicating his more affluent status, wondering what he wants. “Afraid not, gongzi. I’m just a rogue cultivator passing through Gusu.”

The young master smiles at that. “Please excuse my forwardness, but I myself am quite curious about cultivation but have never had the affinity for such things. The cultivation sects are quite secretive about their practices, for good reason,” he adds quickly so as not to offend her, “but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sating my curiosity.”

A believable sentiment, if it weren’t the way he was subtly eying her, and the other young masters but a slight distance away and obviously watching them, laughing with each other. 

“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your friends, gongzi,” she says a tad blithely, hoping to brush him off without causing offense because that would just be inconvenient.

The young master–who hadn’t even introduced himself, mind you–seems to double take at that. Mei lin looks torn between laughing and being concerned, so Shuilan decides to deal with this quickly.

“Speaking of friends, I have some people waiting for me,” Shuilan bows gracefully and smiles at the vendor, who bows back cheerfully, before once again moving to leave. 

“Ah! Guniang, surely your friends could stand to wait a little longer,” he insists as he grabs her arm, not really strong enough to keep her in place but sudden enough to jostle the bag she’s carrying. Shuilan delights in the way he flinches at the glare he earned himself, but still the man keeps his hold on her. She laments the fact that she doesn’t look near intimidating enough when she’s holding a bag of fruit to her chest like it’s precious cargo. “My friends won’t miss me if I disappear for some time.”

Shuilan continues to glare, glancing down at his hand and he drops her arm like it burned him. He coughed trying to play off the fact that she successfully intimidated him for a moment. Not wanting to make a scene, Shuilan decides against channeling the essence of her father. (Which one? It doesn’t matter because either option would have been bad.)

“I don’t even know your name,” she says blandly. Mei lin laughs in the back but clearly didn’t mean to if the way she’s trying to muffle the sound is anything to go by.

The nameless young master doesn’t seem to appreciate being laughed at, and he turns a hateful glare to the vendor. 

Shuilan is about to draw the young master’s attention back to herself so that they may at least take this squabble elsewhere when another unfamiliar hand comes down to grasp her shoulder. Shuilan can feel the spiritual energy run through this one, coupled with the recognition present in the loquat vendor's eyes, it kills the annoyance that threatened to break through. The young master pales slightly when his gaze returns to her and Shuilan turns her head to see who had arrived. 

“Wei Shuilan,” Jin Zixuan says but doesn’t take his eyes off the other young man. “Your brother is looking for you. The restaurant is less busy now, so we decided it would be a good time to eat.”

The hand slips off her shoulder and Shuilan takes this as a chance to shoo the interloper away.

She bows mockingly at him. “It seems my companions aren’t keen on waiting for me, gongzi. Perhaps you should return to your friends as well,” she says the last part rather pointedly. 

The young man gapes like a particularly dumb fish before clearing his throat and hastily making his retreat with a clumsy word of parting. Wei Shuilan can’t even pretend to care at the moment, instead she turns to the loquat vendor.

“My apologies for the disturbance,” she curls into herself, annoyance giving way to embarrassment. “I hope we haven’t chased off all your customers.”

Mei lin waves off her apology. “If they’re gone it’s because of that ridiculous young master. Really, they should realise that not everyone is interested in them just because they’re rich.”

Shuilan breathes a chuckle and nods her head in agreement.

“Well it was lovely speaking with you, Mei lin,” she smiles, eyes crinkling in delight.

“If you’re ever in need of company you know where to find this one, Wei-guniang,” the vendor winks at her, and Shuilan can see the incredulous expression of Jin Zixuan in her peripheral vision. Mei lin starts slightly as if remembering the young master and bows quickly in his direction. “A-and you have a good day as well, gongzi.”

Young master Jin nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, seeming thrown by the abrupt shift in mood.

Shuilan waves goodbye and walks off in the direction Jin Zixuan came from before the young master can make the situation more awkward. 

The pair walk in silence, Jin Zixuan stiff in posture and glancing at her every few moments like he wants to ask her something but not in possession of the words to do so. 

“Thank you,” Shuilan starts. “For earlier. I would have caused a bit of a scene if you hadn’t shown up.”

The young master’s face reddens slightly. “Think nothing of it. I dislike people who try to force others into situations they do not desire.”

Shuilan raises a brow at that. It’s not that she thought differently, just that she didn’t think he’d say such a thing so openly. Jin disciples have a tendency to blow over the thoughts and opinions of others, thinking it is their due to be obeyed by those deemed beneath them. To think in such a way, Shuilan wouldn’t be surprised by how often such sentiments of his are brushed off by others without him noticing due to how used the young master must be to his opinion carrying more weight than is truly warranted from an inexperienced boy.

Shuilan says none of that.

“Do you deal with similar situations often?” Jin Zixuan asked, finding his voice again.

“Pardon?”

“Unwanted advances from unfamiliar men, I mean.”

“Not often enough to call it a regular occurrence, but it does happen more than I’d like,” she says truthfully.“The sword doesn’t deter them enough unfortunately”

“I see.”

“You look like you have more questions, gongzi.”

“You don’t mind me asking?”

“So long as I maintain the right not to answer.”

Jin Zixuan scoffs. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

“Well, go ahead.”

“You were quite young when you left the Lan. Why did Hanguang-jun allow you to leave? Seeing situations like the one earlier, I just don’t understand how your father would let you aimlessly travel around by yourself when things like that could happen without anyone to protect you from strange men.”

He was protecting me from strange men in his own way.

“The positives outweighed the negatives at the time.”

Jin Zixuan didn’t have a response for the vague answer. Despite his own curiosity he decided not to press for more. “I guess the amount of freedom you got out of it would trump everything else. Not to mention still having the privileges.”

Jin Zixuan said that last part more to himself than to her, but really how else could she have survived for so long on her own. 

Shuilan stops walking and turns to him, and Jin Zixuan was worried for a moment that he’d offended her. But taking a closer look at the girl, Jin Zixuan would say that she’s trying not to laugh at him. 

“You think I still have access to the Lan Sect’s coffers?”

Jin Zixuan valiantly did not sputter. “I didn’t mean, well not that specifically .” The Jin heir cleared his throat before speaking again. “I just mean that, even though you’re no longer officially tied to the Lan, it still appears that many still afford you the same respect due to someone from the main family.”

Shuilan is actually rather impressed by how carefully he’s chosen his words. Perhaps not all is lost in terms of the diplomatic abilities of these young masters. She hums in thought and resumes walking.

“I understand what you’re saying,” she reassures him, as the boy falls into step beside her. “But if you’re referring to the way that the servants treat me, or the way that a few from my brother and Jingyi’s cohort behave with me, I feel the need to inform you that much of that was due to personal contributions to the Lan before I left.” And that’s not even mentioning the fact that you weren’t there to see the elders berate my conduct before Sizhui and Granduncle intervened. 

Jin Zixuan remains doubtful. “Surely you don’t mean to deny how your relation to the main family affords you certain concessions?” 

Shuilan thinks about rolling her eyes. “Of course not, but a lot of those concessions are things that are afforded to guests of the sect anyway. I know the Lan are strict in their regulations, I know that better than anyone, but they give their guests quite a bit of breathing room. It might not seem that way to you, Jin-gongzi, but that’s because they try to integrate the visiting disciples during the guest lectures. Guests who are invited under different circumstances are given more leeway because otherwise it is just unreasonable. So long as the visitors don’t go out of their way to be disrespectful the Lan are willing to turn a blind eye.”

(Jin Zixuan huffs internally at the fact that Wei Shuilan will never truly understand the irony of her explaining the conduct of the Lan Sect in such detail.)

“This is the first time I’ve set foot in the Cloud Recesses in almost four years,” Shuilan continues and Jin Zixuan finds himself more interested in what she has to say than he would care to admit out loud. “They treat me as well as they are bound to do for an honored guest of their Sect Heir. I promise you if I just showed up, depending on the sentries at the entrance, the greeting that met me would have been very different.”

Jin Zixuan nods, but isn’t satisfied enough to let the subject drop.

“Does your family ever send you any money?”

Shuilan has that look in her eyes again, like she wants to laugh at him but is too dignified to do so. 

“No, they don’t,” at the incredulous look he gives her Shuilan adds, “At my request.”

Jin Zixuan is even more baffled at that. “Hanguang-jun didn’t give you anything ?”

“I didn’t want anything that didn’t definitively belong to me.”

Shuilan remembers the first time the villagers met Sizhui. The shocked expressions on their faces when they realised where exactly Shuilan came from. What was even more memorable was the complete lack of shock from the village chief. Chief Liu was not surprised at all, but he was relieved to learn that she merely seceded from her sect rather than defected because it meant that her presence would be unlikely to cause any problems if word reached the other sects of her new dwellings. 

Also helped that almost no one from outside the Lan had any idea of what she looked like. A rather popular point of gossip suggested that the Lan kept her hidden because she was too ugly to be seen in public. A rumour that was promptly squashed when some arrogant guest disciples had snuck into the women’s side of the sect and claimed to have seen her, stating that they kept their young mistress hidden because she was beautiful, but too sickly to venture out of her sect. The young masters were subsequently kicked out.

Recalling their first meeting at the inn, Shuilan feels quite foolish now by how quick she was to claim her relation to Wei Wuxian so boldly in front of people who had no idea who she was. Had they been anyone else it would have ended with her being dragged back into the cultivation world and promptly put on trial for the mere sin of her existence. 

Something about the purple Jiang robes really crushed all reasonable thought in that moment. Not mentioning how tired she was from having to deal with several yaos from a neighbouring village that weren’t dealt with properly by the some minor sect who merely chased them off.

Sometimes she wishes she never left the Burial Mounds, at least then she wouldn’t have to deal with incompetent cultivators.

“Where exactly are we headed?” Shuilan asks, realising they’ve been walking without direction for some time, her brother nowhere in sight.

“Oh, um,” Jin Zixuan’s cheeks redden. “I made that up. I left the group a little after you did so I don’t actually know where Lan Sizhui and the others are.”

Shuilan blinks at him, then coughs into her cloth covered palm to avoid laughing.

“I see,” she smiles at him. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to see, we may as well go together.”

She holds out a loquat, and Jin Zixuan takes it for the olive branch that it represents. 

“I saw a bookstore earlier, if you’d care to browse with me, seeing as I can’t actually pay for anything at the moment,” Jin Zixuan holds out his qiankun pouch. “If you’d like to have your hands free.”

Shuilan places the fruit in the enchanted bag.

—

Jin Zixuan is surprised to find that he’s actually been enjoying himself on this trip. 

After leaving Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang to their pointless bickering at whatever stall they landed themselves at, the Jin heir followed Wei Shuilan’s example and decided to walk around by himself. She wasn’t the only one feeling restricted by the isolated walls of the Lan Sect.

I suppose it’s not so odd, he thinks to himself, to find a person with a disposition similar to his own agreeable company.

And if that isn’t the strangest thing, that Wei Wuxian’s child is more similar to him than to Wei Wuxian himself. Though not to discredit their similarities as they have many despite the man not having raised her himself. 

The young master and Wei Shuilan take turns presenting each other with stories that catch their eyes, the conversation flows easier now that they have a shared topic of interest, and Zixuan wonders if this is what it would have felt like to grow up with a sibling.

“Would it be a problem, do you think, if you brought back one of these books to the past?” Shuilan asks him as they walk out of the establishment. 

Jin Zixuan thinks for a moment. “I don’t believe so, as long as the contents weren’t shared with others so it would still have the chance to be written by the original author.”

Shuilan hums in contemplation.

“It must be annoying,” Zixuan voiced. “To have to think about all the negative outcomes, to have to think of contingencies in case something happens.”

Shuilan shrugs. “It’s not really a problem for us now that we know the timelines won’t impact each other. But it is a bit troubling to think of all the ways that we could mess up yours without intending to.”

Jin Zixuan wonders what it must be like to have that kind of responsibility put on him. He’ll be lucky if that never happens to him.

“I think, I’ll be very relieved when this is all over,” Shuilan muses. 

Jin Zixuan surprises himself further when he jokes, “Yes, and you’ll be left wondering about all the damage that was done to our timeline by a single novel from the future.”

Shuilan returns his laugh with a playful smirk. 

“Ah, but you see, gongzi, it is a romance novel,” she says with mock seriousness. “From what I’ve heard they are quite impactful.”

“Would you say that? Truly?”

“I don’t read much fiction and such novels weren’t encouraged by the Lan, but there were a few floating around in the women’s section.”

“Not much of a romantic, are you.”

“No,” she scoffs. “I don’t fancy myself a romantic at all. I fear I’m much too practical for such things. And yourself?”

Zixuan doesn’t know why he didn’t expect the question to be thrown back at him.

“I wasn’t given much choice in that regard,” he says bitterly.

“Oh, right,” she responds awkwardly. Jin Zixuan pays it no mind.

They walk around looking for a less crowded area. They take a seat at an empty bench near the water.

Shuilan sits down, uncaring of the potential staining on her white robes. Jin Zixuan takes a little more care, and ignores her laughing eyes as he does so.

“Apologies, perhaps we should have found a tavern to sit in instead,” she teases.

He scoffs at her.

“Should we go look for the others? They might be waiting for us somewhere.”

“We didn’t establish a time to reconvene at,” she reasons. “I haven’t received any messages so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

He’s about to ask her what she means, then remembers he’s in the future and the future has a way to communicate remotely in a similar yet more practical way than the Jin butterflies. 

They sit in silence, enjoying the ambient noise of the town.

“What’s your betrothed like,” Shuilan asks quietly.

Jin Zixuan’s eyebrows furrow at the mention of the girl. “There’s no need to make pointless conversation with me.”

And just like that the amiable atmosphere they’ve cultivated shatters. 

Wei Shuilan’s eyes narrow at the closed off tone. 

“I don’t tend to talk just to fill the silence, gongzi,” she deadpans. “I asked because I was curious.”

Jin Zixuan reels back slightly, feeling foolish. 

He sighs, trying to think of what he can say. “Why do you want to know about her?”

Wei Shuilan seems to shrink in on herself. She answers without looking at him.

“I heard she was close with my father,” her voice just above a whisper. “I’ve never met her, and Hanguang-jun wasn’t close with her. They say she was like a sister to him, I just want to know what she’s like.”

Jin Zixuan feels like an asshole. 

“I don’t know much about her to be honest, we aren’t very close even though we are betrothed,” he says rather lamely. He sounds pathetic even to his own ears.

Wei Shuilan looks rightfully unimpressed. 

“You don’t know anything about her?”

The young master tries to fight down the shame that threatens to come out through his ears. 

“We didn’t choose each other.”

She stops looking at him and gazes out at the water below them. 

Irritation rises in him. “We don’t have much in common,” he says, like a justification.

“How do you know?”

He pauses at that.

“What?”

“How do you know you don’t have much in common if you don’t really know each other?” She's looking at Jin Zixuan like he’s silly now.

He says nothing.

Somehow she manages to look even more unimpressed with him, and Jin Zixuan feels more awkward as the silence stretches out. He’s waiting for her to say something else that he can latch onto because he can’t for the life of him figure out how to respond to that, though it’s becoming clear that she has no plans of saying anything else. Truly, the young master is almost impressed that her silence is as impactful as her words sometimes.

“I just,” he says, giving into the silence. “I always thought that when I’d marry it would be to someone I’ve chosen, someone who understood me.”

Wei Shuilan tilts her head, as if she’s considering something.

“Life isn’t a romance novel. You don’t just fall in love without trying to get to know someone first.”

“There’s no way I’d fall in love with someone as plain as her,” he snaps without thinking, too used to such remarks in response to both Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian.

Shuilan is clearly taken aback, and Jin Zixuan realises that she has no idea just how provoking this topic is for him. But there’s no way to retract what he’s said. 

So he does the opposite. 

“She’s plain, she’s a weak cultivator, there’s nothing impressive about her, and if she wasn’t the daughter of my mother’s closest friend there is no way we would have been matched. God knows what exactly your father saw in her.”

“She was kind to him,” Shuilan says when he’d finished his short tirade. “She was kind to him when she didn’t have to be, when he was nobody but a street kid brought in by her father. That’s what I was told, at least.”

Jin Zixuan feels himself deflate at the statement.

“Do you speak so unfavourably of her to others,” her naturally level tone made to sound artificially neutral.

Jin Zixuan says nothing.

Wei Shuilan stands from the bench. “I pity her, for being betrothed to such an inconsiderate young master.”

When she starts to turn away, Jin Zixuan can’t help but say, “You don’t even know her!”

Wei Shuilan rounds back on him with hardened eyes. “No, I don’t. But I know enough about the Jin to know she wouldn’t be treated well with your blatant disrespect to her person.”

He scowls but doesn’t deny it. 

“Did it ever occur to you that she’s the one who’s worse off in this entire arrangement?”

No, he makes a point of thinking as little of her as possible. 

Wei Shuilan looks as though she can hear his thoughts and he doesn’t much appreciate that. 

“You may not have chosen this for yourself, Jin-gongzi, but neither did she. You are not the one who will have to leave their family and home for an alliance that has been decided before they were even born,” she says as if she’s explaining something to a witless child. “The fact that her betrothed would disparage her so openly when she has done nothing other than exist.”

He flinches at that, suddenly ashamed. 

“That wasn’t my intent,” he defends rather halfheartedly, no longer feeling the same fire from earlier. 

Shuilan gives him a long look before sighing and sitting back down onto the bench.

“Intent or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re damaging her reputation by being so rude for no reason.”

Jin Zixuan is beginning to feel like a scolded child.

Wei Shuilan pays him no mind as she reaches into the qiankun pouch containing her loquats. 

“It’s just so frustrating.”

“I really don’t mean to preach,” she says deceptively casual. “But perhaps you should remember to take your frustrations out on the people who orchestrated the situation rather than the one person who would understand exactly how you feel.”

“I don’t know about exactly how I feel,” he scoffs.

“No?” Shuilan arches an eyebrow at him. “She wouldn’t know how it feels to be betrothed to someone regardless of her personal wishes and desires?”

Jin Zixuan sighs. “I suppose we have more in common than I let myself realise.”

Wei Shuilan lets out a disbelieving huff at the reluctant admission. 

The silence washes over them again.

The young master watches the water and takes the time to organize his thoughts. Being married to Jiang Yanli has never appealed to him, but he yields that he might owe it to her to admit that he’s more angry at his parents for everything than he ever was at her. It’s unfair that he was betrothed so young without being asked what he wanted, an agreement before he was conceived even. It never fails to irritate him when he hears his sect brothers and other young masters speak of the type of girl they would like to court in the future because he never got a choice. All because his mother wanted a solid connection between her and her closest friend, and his father not caring either way. 

“You’re lucky,” he says softly, thoughtfully even. 

Shuilan turns back to him, silent but likely wondering what he means. 

“Hanguang-jun would never engage you to someone you’ve never met, would he?” at her continued silence he carries on. “He wouldn’t make such an important decision for you without at least asking for your thoughts on the matter.”

“No,” her expression gentles. “He wouldn’t. That didn’t stop others from trying, though.”

Jin Zixuan fights to keep his face from moving and the rest of him from reacting outwardly. He recalls Lan Jingyi’s insinuations of both Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan’s childhood in the Lan Sect and curses himself in his head for not remembering that sooner. 

He clears his throat and looks away. 

“What do you mean by that?” he can’t help but ask. Lan Jingyi only said Wei Wuxian was off limits, he didn’t say they weren’t allowed to ask about other things.

“The elders of the Lan sect believed me to be cursed,” she says.

Jin Zixuan, who was preparing himself for something terrible, was not prepared for that .

“I’m sorry?” he says, not understanding.

Shuilan merely looks amused.

“Something about the circumstances of my birth,” she says far too indifferently. Jin Zixuan is suddenly flashed with the memory of Wei Wuxian’s blase attitude regarding all the rumours of his parentage. He sees the resemblance now. “Hanguang-jun fought for my adoption and it ruined his reputation within the sect for a while, so the elders had far more authority over him, my brother, and myself for quite some time. It lessened as we grew up with my brother proving himself as a member of the main family, and I was able to contribute in my own way.”

She pauses and looks wistfully at the flowing water, boats with people enjoying each other’s company being rowed down the canal.

“But when I was twelve the elders believed that in order to ensure my loyalty and obedience to the Lan ,I was to marry someone from the sect. Of course, even though they resented it, not just anyone could get married to a daughter of the main family even if her blood is wrong,” her voice gaining a bitter edge to it. The Jin Sect Heir breath catches at her words, at the vague insight of what it must have been like to have to earn your place in a sect rather than being born into it.

He changes his focus. Who would have been suggested? Jin Zixuan knows no one from the Lan Sect but the young master would at least need to be of high enough standing to be presented as a fiance candidate. Perhaps even a first cousin? Jingyi, maybe? Maybe that’s why they’re so close? It clearly fell through if it was. 

“So one of the elders proposed.”

Jin Zixuan blinked. 

“One of the elders proposed what?” Perhaps they brought in a matchmaker to find which young master would be the most compatible with her. 

Shuilan munches on her loquat.

The young master frowns at her silence. What could the elder have suggested that was so bad? She was only twelve so it’s not as if they could have possibly suggested that she marry—

“Wait,” Jin Zixuan’s posture goes rigid. “You can’t possibly mean—”

“That the elder proposed to me?” Shuilan deadpans. 

“You were a child!” he shrieks, horrified, uncaring of the eyes that he draws to them.

Shuilan shrugs, like events she’s recalling are perfectly reasonable. “It’s not completely unheard of. I wouldn’t have married him right away, but yes, it was quite the shock for me at the time.”

Jin Zixuan can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“How could they be so shameless?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, Jin-gongzi,” she responds entirely unconcerned. “You’ll be relieved to know that the engagement did not happen, and that Grandmaster Lan was the one to shut down all the betrothal nonsense so no one dared to contest it afterwards. Then Hanguang-jun gave me his leave to secede from the sect, so it all worked out really.”

This is ridiculous. A part of him wants to think that she’s making this up, but what would she possibly gain from that? Sympathies? That seems like the last thing someone like Wei Shuilan would want, and yet he doesn’t stop himself from feeling that way. 

She meets his eyes once more, but her expression is as stony as her adoptive father’s. 

“I don’t need your pity, gongzi.”

“I don’t pity you,” he half-lies. “Though I feel like we have an unfortunate thing in common now.”

Shuilan narrows her eyes at him, and Zixuan feels like he’s said the wrong thing. She doesn’t say anything. Somehow that’s worse, and he feels moved to explain himself.

“I mean, we were both forced into situations we didn’t want, just that you managed to dodge it.”

“You really believe that mine and your circumstances are the same?”

It feels like a trick question. Zixuan takes a moment to collect himself before answering.

“Are they not?”

Shuilan lets out a disappointed sigh.

“We should go find the others,” she says. She takes out her communicator and sends off what Zixuan assumes is a short message to her brother. She promptly receives one back, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Lan Sizhui had been waiting.

Shuilan gets up from the bench and gathers her purchases and walks off without waiting for him.

—

Hanguang-jun watched helplessly as his daughter ran off to her room without so much as a word to him. The door doesn’t slam shut but he almost wishes it would, if only so that he knows she isn’t repressing her negative feelings about the situation. One thing he is certain of, though, is that she won’t be going back to the women’s side of the sect for some time.

He has no idea what his brother was thinking by entertaining such a ludicrous notion from the elders, especially without consulting him first. A betrothal. To a man old enough to be her grandfather . When Shuilan hasn’t even reached the age of majority yet. Lan Xichen had no right to spring that on them without warning, sect leader or not. 

Hanguang-jun sighs as he prepares tea, hopefully giving her enough time to process the events. He contemplates whether it would be better to bring it to her or wait for her to come to him. He pours the hot water over the tea leaves and lets it steep. When he sets his hands down onto his lap he sighs again. How is he going to explain to this Sizhui?

Shuilan comes out of her room and sits down beside him. Careful, as if she’s worried he will not welcome her presence. Wangji raises an arm and soon finds his middle being squeezed tightly by thin arms. He rubs her back and kisses the top of her head.

“A-die,” she says quietly, wavering slightly before she continues. “Is it going to be like this forever? Am I so poor a disciple that I’ll have to keep proving my worth forever?”

Wangji involuntarily takes in a sharp intake of air. He doesn’t know what to say to her. He wants to reassure her that it isn’t the case, but how can he when she’s already living through it.

Her shoulders shake as she starts to sob, yet not a sound escapes her. Wangji moves to encase her in his arms, the tea forgotten.

Wangji shushes her, and kisses her temple while whispering assurances that he isn’t actually fool enough to believe.

“A-die,” she cries. “I - i–.”

She stutters as she tries to speak through her sobs. He feels a growing wetness on his chest where his child has buried her face. Anger simmering in his core.

Wangji tries to calm her but he’s suddenly being pushed away as Shuilan falls forward kowtowing in front of him.

“Fuqin,” she chokes out and Wangji feels his heart drop. “Please forgive this unfilial child.”

“Shuilan–,” he grabs her arms and pulls her up to no avail, her prone form unmoving.

She stays on the ground, shaking. 

“This one can no longer delude themselves,” her formal language out of place between a child and their father. “This one can, can no longer cope wi - with, with—”

“Shui’er, please get up,” he pleads.

“I can’t be a Lan anymore,” she lifts her head, tears running down her face. “I - I’ve tri - tried so hard! It’s never enough! It will never be enough for them!”

He crushes her to his chest and she bawls into his shoulder.

He holds her. Nothing he says will help her, nothing he does will change the truth. 

He sits there in silence, hugging his weeping child and thinks: enough.

“Shui’er,” he says once he’s collected himself. “If you could go anywhere you wanted to, where would you go?”

Shuilan looks up at him with puffy red, determined eyes. 

“Away.”

Chapter Text

Lan Sizhui took comfort in the weight of his sister leaning into his side as they walked into the restaurant and waited to be seated, her hand clutching the end of his sleeve. He ignores his uncle’s disapproving gaze. He’s already been chastised for coddling her—because showing any form of care and affection now counts as coddling apparently—by the elders, but he doesn’t care. She’s upset about something, he’s not going to not let her hug him, whatever their uncle thinks about that. He’s thankful that the man seems to be preoccupied with whatever he’s discussing with the other Lans present (unfortunately for Jingyi). 

“We should order those soup dumplings you used to like,” he says to Shuilan. “And maybe those spicy fish cakes. Are you still trying to improve your tolerance for spicy food?”

Shuilan hums. “I think I can handle a wider variety of spicy dishes now.”

Nie Huaisang perks up at that. “Xiao-wei, you’re trying to do what?”

She turns to the young master and smiles a little.

“I was told my father liked to eat food that was intolerably spicy.”

“Oh you have no idea!” Nie Huaisang chirps, delighted at the topic. “All his food would be so red, it’d make your eyes water just looking at it!”

Shuilan huffs a laugh into her sleeve at the face Sizhui makes. “I’m not quite there, but I do enjoy spicy food now.”

“Now? You didn’t before?”

“You have seen what the Lan eat, yes?”

Sizhui chuckles softly as he remembers the first time they both tried spicy wontons. Hanguang-jun was a bit more concerned than was warranted, until he tried them himself. Not much can crack his father’s composure.

“Hanguang-jun bought me chili paste to try at home,” Shuilan reminisced fondly. “Fed it to me in increasing amounts over time like he was trying to poison train me.”

“I think Grandmaster Lan was actually under the impression that he was poison training you.”

Lan Sizhui almost shudders as he thinks about just how red and potent those dishes were. It went beyond the fact that he had the taste pallet of a Lan. 

“My friend that I travel with definitely had fun diversifying my pallet,” Shuilan shares.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes light up at the voluntary admission. 

Lan Sizhui watches contently as the two of them converse, Nie Huaisang taking an interest in her travels as a rogue cultivator, asking what her friend is like, the different people she’s met over the years. He appreciates the conversation as he tries to quell the displeasure he feels over the fact that Shuilan appeared with Jin Zixuan trailing behind her, eyes squinted at her back in silent frustration. If he finds out another one of these young masters cornered her for answers he won’t hesitate reminding them exactly what position they’re in right now and how much of it is reliant on his goodwill. 

A staff member approaches their group to seat them in the more secluded area of the restaurant, only the best service afforded to the Sect Leader of the Lan afterall. 

When they take their seats and discuss what to order Shuilan still hasn’t let go of his sleeve.

—

Hanguang-jun takes in the sight of his beloved, sat at the only table in the room of the inn with his arm resting languidly on his propped up knee with every ounce of nonchalance brought about only by the confidence in his own capabilities, a sight that he would be content to watch on from the sidelines were it not for the situation they have currently found themselves in. And also because next to him was the, frankly unwelcome, presence of the Nie Sect’s current sect leader. 

“Are we really doing this right now, Nie-zongzhu?” the Yiling Patriarch said, more amused by the situation than was warranted, but given everything that has happened in the last few weeks Hanguang-jun would not begrudge him his amusement.

“And what are we doing right now, Mo-gongzi?” the sect leader replied with a false air of nerves. 

Hanguang-jun watched as the two men continued this roundabout conversation that he himself was growing frustrated with. This indirect line of questioning, never answering the questions that matter. Hanguang-jun can’t understand it despite his appreciation for Wei Ying’s ability to navigate it with a practiced ease that comes from learning to read the emotions of others’ so easily. Riling up his opponent to the point of carelessness, getting the reaction he wants and needs in order achieve the desired result. He tries not to think too hard about how this particular skill was obtained, not when he should be focused on the situation at hand.

“Hanguang-jun, Mo-gongzi, I really don’t know why you think I know anything about the recent increase in fierce corpses,” the headshaker stutters. “The Burial Mounds have been getting more restless, everyone knows that. There isn’t much that the sects can do about it.”

Hanguang-jun takes a seat next to his partner and reaches for his cup and breathes in the scent of the tea while the Yiling Patriarch rests his head against his propped up knee, twirling his makeshift flute.

The corners of Lan Wangji’s lips curl while Nie Huaisang eyes the motion with undisguised caution.

“The Burial Mounds are really interesting,” Wei Ying muses. “The Yiling Patriarch’s last desperate act against the Cultivation World.”

Nie Huaisang laughs nervously in response. 

“Makes you wonder what his end goal was,” Wei Ying’s eyes don’t stray from the squirming figure in front of him. Lan Wangji almost laughs.

“Ah, well, who’s to say really.”

Nie Huaisang takes a long sip of his tea and turns away from the two of them in an attempt to regain his composure.

“So, Nie-zongzhu,” Wei Ying hums. “How did you get your hands on the Yiling Patriarch’s notes?”

Nie Huaisang chokes on his drink.

Lan Wangji’s eyes go to the silencing talisman on the bottom corner of the door.

“Eh? I’m not sure what you–”

“Cut the bullshit, Huaisang,” Wei Ying’s tone darkens. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Nie Huaisang pauses as if contemplating his next move before he gulps down the rest of his tea like he wishes it were something else and slams the cup down.  “Good to see you, too, Wei-xiong.”

Lan Wangji calmly sips his now lukewarm tea. 

The headshaker sighs. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

His Wei Ying smiles ominously.

“Why’d you bring me back?”

Nie Huaisang’s lips flatten into a tight line, his shoulders tensing. 

“What kind of dirty work do you need me to do for you?” Wei Ying goads. 

The other man’s grip tightens on his fan, then as if his string had been cut he exhales looking exhausted. 

“I need you to find the rest of that fierce corpse,” he finally admits.

This time Wangji is the one that speaks. “Why?”

Nie Huaisang glares at him, “You have my brother’s arm right now.”

He shares a look with Wei Ying, the two of them hiding their surprise at the admission, agreeing on their next line of questions. 

“How is that possible?” Wei Ying starts. “Nie Mingjue would have had a soul calming ceremony.”

“His murderer made sure he’d never be able to rest in peace,” Nie Huaisang answers with a feigned calm. 

Wei Ying hums thoughtfully.

“So you want me to track down Nie Mingjue’s other parts,” Wei Ying says. “Why do you need me for that?”

“You’re the demonic cultivation expert,” Nie Huaisang shrugs with a levity none of them buy into. “If anyone can figure it out it’d be you.”

“What made you think I wanted to be brought back?”

Lan Wangji freezes.

Wei Ying stares back unflinchingly at Nie Huaisang, who appears to be at a loss of words now.

The ensuing silence weighing heavy in the room. 

“Did–,” Nie Huaisang pauses. “Were you at peace?”

His love huffs a hollow laugh that causes Wangji’s heart to ache at the sound. 

“No, but that’s not what I asked.”

Nie Huaisang takes a breath to quell his uncertainty. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t know if you wanted to be brought back,” he confesses looking away. “I didn’t think about that. I didn’t care.”

Lan Wangji moves to stand. To do what? He didn’t know, but was stopped by a hand on his knee. He looks to Wei Ying and sees the satisfied look on his face that does nothing to calm the rage he feels at his beloved being disrespected even in death. 

“Okay,” Wei Ying practically sings. 

Nie Huaisang whips his head to his old friend, a look of confusion melting into disbelief.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Wei Ying repeats cheerfully. “I’ll track down the rest of your brother’s corpse.”

Nie Huaisang continues to stare incredulously before slumping down with a sigh, gaze pointed upwards like the ceiling had answers he wasn’t privy to. “Only you, Wei-xiong. Only you.”

Wei Ying chuckles while Lan Wangji looks disapprovingly at the Sect Leader. 

“Besides I have more than enough reason to find some answers myself,” his words foreboding and Wangji knows he’s thinking of Wen Qionglin. “I should be thanking you, Nie-xiong.”

That earns him another incredulous look that sets the man off on another fit of laughter. 

“I get to see my kids again, Huaisang,” he says looking softly at Lan Wangji. “So thank you, even if that wasn’t your intention.”

“Huh, so they really are yours,” Nie Huaisang says more to himself than to them. “The Lan were tight lipped about Hanguang-jun’s children, and even after Lan Sizhui was introduced the girl remained a mystery.”

Lan Wangji glares at the man, a silent warning to choose his words carefully. 

Undaunted, Nie Huaisang continued. “For a while people were wondering if she even existed or if it was just another rumour that spiraled out of control.”

“Ha! Our daughter is very much real,” Wei Ying exclaimed with a bitter laugh. “So you never saw her yourself?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang shook his head. “No one had outside of the Lan Sect, except for a couple guest disciples who snuck into the women’s section of the Lan to look for her. Apparently she’s so beautiful the Lan kept her hidden.”

Wei Ying snorts at that, grip on Lan Wangji’s knee tightening to keep the man from throttling their guest.

“She looks exactly like me,” he says, sour.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang says awkwardly, understanding now. “How did you get away with that?”

The question was directed at Lan Wangji, but he wasn’t particularly inclined to answer. If Wei Ying didn’t look interested as well, he wouldn’t have.

“Performed a blood ritual to claim her as mine before the elders could argue,” Lan Wangji admits. “She’s as much mine as she is Wei Ying’s.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened. “And Lan Sizhui?”

“He was a Wen,” Wei Ying answered. “He was the only child that survived the Jins.”

Lan Wangji shifts closer to him. 

“The elders were less opposed to him, but they were far from accepting.”

Nie Huaisang nods solemnly. He doesn’t ask anything else. He doesn’t ask what children were doing at the camps, he doesn’t ask exactly where Shuilan came from, and he doesn’t offer meaningless apologies.

He takes another drink, they discuss what the two of them are going to do now, and then he makes his way out.

When the door closes Wei Ying lets out a long sigh and plops down backwards onto the floor. 

“Brought back to life, just to work me to the bone,” he jokes.

Lan Wangji doesn’t find that funny.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying giggles at the frown on his face. “At least I have you with me. We’ll solve this murder mystery together.”

“Mn.”

“Mn,” the ridiculous man on the floor echoes. “But seriously what’s the point of soul calming ceremonies if they don’t work. Wen Ning’s didn’t work either, which admittedly was partly because of the combination of me and how he died, but still. Why go against the natural order of things if you aren’t even going to make sure they’re effective?”

Lan Wangji looks down at him waiting for Wei Ying to elaborate. 

The Yiling Patriarch reaches a hand up to hold Hanguang-jun’s cheek.

“We’re all victims to the circumstances of our deaths. That’s why fierce corpses, ghosts, ghouls, the general undead, exist. The common people don’t have a choice what happens to them after they die, why should the sects be able to buy their way into peaceful rest?”

His tone grows melancholic.

Lan Wangji hefts his beloved onto his lap and holds him tightly.

Wei Ying laughs softly, cupping the face of his love before leaning down and kissing his lips.

“Did you mean it?” Lan Wangji asks against his mouth.

“Hm?”

“What you asked Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji’s voice doesn’t shake. “‘How did you know I wanted to be brought back?’”

Wei Ying pulls away and Lan Wangji almost retracts his question.

Wangji’s fingers flex on the other’s waist, causing him to sigh contently as his beloved leans closer once more while toying with the end of his forehead ribbon. Wei Ying closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against Wangji’s, only his ribbon between them.

“I’m here now.”

That’s not an answer and they both know it.

“What do you think, Hanguang-jun?” Wei Ying says playfully. “Are you willing to walk down this bloodstained path with little ol’ me?”

Lan Wangji’s chest warms and he kisses Wei Ying’s temple with a reverent whisper, “Always.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian had spent the formative years of his life alone and starving. People would remind him constantly of his status as an orphan, but sometimes (most of the time really if he thinks about it) they would forget about the homeless bit. Even if they didn’t, not many truly understood the impact it had on him as a person. Wei Wuxian, himself, included at times as he buried the memories of being treated less than the dirt that the drunk men walking in and out of the brothels spit on. Not even his beloved Shijie would ever understand what it was like, and she at least had the grace to admit that to him.

He spent so long being nobody.

It left him starving for more than just food.

Being entirely helpless so early on in his life had left him with habits that he had yet to kick despite growing up a disciple, a young master even, of one of the major sects. His need to constantly have access to food or other materials is a testament of how deep the scar of poverty runs. If you don’t have immediate access to resources the only thing you can do is endear yourself to people who do. Food stall owners, brothel workers, butchers, people on lower ends of the social hierarchy will always be safer to approach for a street child than the affluent customers who could actually bear to part with some of their wealth. 

Not always, but more likely and with less amount of risk when accepting.

Wei Wuxian learned early on never to trust the flashy men who offered him anything. They’re not doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. Jiang Fengmian was the one exception, and it was because the man knew his father’s name and the little boy was preoccupied with getting away from the dogs .

Wei Wuxian would really like some alcohol right now. In fact it might be the only way he gets through a meeting with four out of the five sect leaders of the major sects present.

He knows how this is going to go, and he is very much not looking forward to it. 

He’s not looking forward to it at all. 

Doesn’t matter that Lan Qiren basically told him he’d cover for him, that’s not going to change the way the sect leader’s are going to look at him. It definitely isn’t going to change Madam Yu’s reaction. 

They’re going to demand compensation, from him, from the Jiang, from the Lan, it doesn’t matter. Compensation is going to be demanded, the Jiang are going to offer him up for punishment because it was his fault and they shouldn’t be expected to defend him, Lan Qiren is going to barter for a lighter punishment but is ultimately going to let Wei Wuxian take the blame because he isn’t a part of his sect and he won’t get final say on what happens to him. 

And what a strange turn it’s taken that he knows for certain that the sect he’s been raised in won’t protect him, but the man who was determined to hate him before they’d even met will.

He wants to laugh but can’t bring himself to appreciate the irony, too busy preparing himself for the worst.

Deep breaths, take some deep breaths, Wei Wuxian. When in doubt, and without access to wine to take the edge off, breathing exercises. He’s really resenting the fact that he’s been avoiding the training grounds as of late. He’s no stranger to being the target of staring and gossip but he really does not need any of that shit right now. He’s nervous in a way he hasn’t felt in a while.

He feels a firm hand grip his shoulder and turns to the man seated next to him. His teacher offers him, what he supposes is a reassuring look, but it does nothing to reassure him.

A servant announces the arrival of the sect leaders, and Wei Wuxian steels himself for the political fight that is about to ensue.

—

Lan Qiren is anticipating the worst. In fact he’s almost counting on it.

Several sect heirs were unintentionally harmed under his care, under the jurisdiction of the Lan. There is no reality where retribution will not be dealt, but he can at least make it clear that he will be the one paying for it. If the boy’s presence wasn’t a necessity, Lan Qiren  would have him on the other side of Cloud Recesses away from the Sect Leaders. Unfortunately that is not an option as Wei Wuxian is the main person working on the research and the only person working on the specific tools that they now have schematics for. He’s the only one knowledgeable enough to properly explain to the sect leaders, as well as the only eye witness they have for the event. 

Lan Qiren cannot and will not be relying on the goodwill and reasonability of the people before him. 

No parent is reasonable when it comes to the safety and well-being of their child, or brother in Nie Mingjue’s case. 

He watches as they all take their seats in front of him, eying the child next to him with expressions varying from curiosity to blatant animosity. Yu Ziyuan’s eyes sharpen into slits the moment she lays her eyes on the boy, while Jiang Fengmian looks to his head disciple with confusion.

Wei Wuxian keeps his head down.

Jiang Fengmian is the first one to speak. 

“Grandmaster Lan, I understand that there’s been an issue regarding my son. Am I correct in assuming the others have been contacted for a similar reason?”

Lan Qiren takes a deep inhale before stepping forward. He looks each person in the face before kneeling once more, hands cupped in front of him and bowing deeply before the sect leaders.

“The Lan have erred greatly,” he begins. “We’ve requested the summons to inform you that your sect heirs are missing.”

The air was charged with a disquiet that compounded the already present tension. The Grandmaster keeps his head down as he waits silently for their responses. He can feel the weight of their stares as he fights the urge to glance back at Wei Wuxian, but he doesn’t have to look up to know the boy is trying to make himself as small as he can. 

“What do you mean missing?” Nie Mingjue’s deep voice cuts into the silence. “What happened to them? To Huaisang?” Voice rising in urgency with each question. 

When Lan Qiren straightens he’s met with the glares of the women present, and the blank faces of their husbands. 

“An experimental talisman was unintentionally activated–”

“Wei Wuxian,” Yu Ziyuan voice low as zidian crackled on her finger promising pain. “What did you do? ”

Lan Qiren is about to address her interruption, but is distracted by his student.

Wei Wuxian drops to the floor where he sat at his teacher’s side as soon as she finishes speaking. 

“This one is at fault, Madam Yu.” Lan Qiren notes the steady resolve in both his voice and shoulders despite the hunched over posture, entirely reminiscent of the boy who lowered himself as he promised to rectify a mistake that he wasn’t solely responsible for. “It was this one’s talisman that sent the sect heirs away.”

“Grandmaster Lan, perhaps it would be best to reconvene after we each address the absence of our heirs.”

Lan Qiren remembers being thrown into the role his brother had thrown away without any thought for the consequences it brought about. He remembers the responsibilities that were thrown at him without any thought for how he would handle them. He remembers being told to be better. He remembers not being given a choice.

He looks at Wei Wuxian’s bowed form.

This will not do.

“Madam Yu,” he says calmly, but firmly, not allowing himself to lose control of the situation. “I agree that independent discussion is necessary in such a matter, but I believe it best for you all to hear what happened now before any decisions are made.”

She scoffs, she isn’t the only one but no word is spoken against him. 

He regards them all again before turning to Wei Wuxian. 

“Wei-gongzi,” he says. “As the witness, please recall the events that transpired the day the sect heirs vanished.”

He gestures for the boy to rise and begin his recollection. 

Wei Wuxian, for his part, does not stutter, he does not shy away from the disbelieving looks of the leaders as he details the nature of the talisman and where it sent the sect heirs. 

“Fengmian you can’t possibly believe this nonsense!” Yu Ziyuan exclaims. She whips her head to Lan Qiren. “Time travel. You expect us to believe that he managed to not only invent time travel, but that he unintentionally sent our sons twenty years into the future? ”

“Yes I have to say, this entire debacle seems quite far-fetched,” Jin Guangshan drawls in addition. Nie Mingjue grunts in agreement, or displeasure at agreeing with the other sect leader. Lan Qiren can’t be sure.

“It is as Wei-gongzi says,” he asserts. “The Lan apologize for not reaching out immediately, but given the unprecedented nature of the situation we found it more prudent to be able to explain everything in entirety before informing you all.”

The Lan have always been steadfast with their discipline and their adherence to their bylaws, a well known fact that Lan Qiren is relying on. The Lan do not speak falsehoods.

Jiang Fengmian remains in a contemplative silence as he scrutinizes Wei Wuxian, who doesn’t so much as flinch at being doubted. A contrast from the nervous boy that sat in his place just before the meeting began.

“A-xian,” the sect leader of the Jiang spoke placidly. “Do you have anything that may prove this to us? Perhaps a demonstration?”

Wei Wuxian holds eye contact with his sect leader as he nods and pulls the letter Jiang Wanyin sent to him from his sleeve. He dips his chin respectfully as he hands the parchment to the open hand. 

The hall is silent as they wait for Jiang Fengmian to verify. Yu Ziyuan grits her teeth as she waits.

The man looks up at his disciple then back down to the parchment. He lets out a breath as he finishes reading. 

“I believe him.”

“Jiang Fengmian!” Yu Ziyuan snarls at him. “A measly slip of paper is enough to convince you? This is just another one of that boy’s tricks!”

“It is not,” he replies. “If it were, I don’t believe that A-xian would have managed to convince Grandmaster Lan to play accomplice.”

She scoffs, “A mere ruse.”

Lan Qiren frowns at that, but says nothing letting Jiang Fengmian deal with his wife. Nothing anyone else says will convince her to listen.

“A-xian would not do something like this,” Jiang Fengmian continues to defend.

The Violet Spider is about to bite out another response but isn’t given the chance to voice it.

“And neither would A-cheng.”

Yu Ziyuan stops. She snatches the parchment out of his hands and scans over the writing.

Nie Mingjue clears his throat. 

“Are any of you inclined to share with the rest of us present,” he says just short of sarcastically. “What’s on that paper that’s so compelling?”

Lan Qiren gives him a look asking him to be patient. The younger sect leader’s impatience in palpable, but he concedes to his senior.

Yu Ziyuan’s grip tightens on the paper as she reaches the end. She scowls. 

“It’s forged.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is.”

“San-niang. It has his seal on it.”

“It has to be.”

“ San-niang. ”

“It has to be!” she repeats. “ It has to be . Because if it isn’t, that means that A-Cheng is—“

“Twenty years in the future,” Wei Wuxian says, voice devoid of any inflection. The attention back on him. “I received that letter from my sect heir two days ago. In it he explains that his current location is still within the Cloud Recesses, only twenty years from now. The Lan Sect on his end were able to find a way to establish direct communication with us in order to send the sect heirs back to their correct time.” he pauses. “I understand that you all want more proof but as I have only sent off my own letter this morning, we will have to wait for a response. I believe we should receive one by tomorrow.”

“ You. ” the purple lightning cracks loudly.

Lan Qiren speaks quickly. “This is the result of my negligence as an educator. The Lan are working tirelessly with Wei Wuxian’s assistance to retrieve your sons.”

“And what other compensation are you offering, Lan Qiren,” Madam Jin speaks, her countenance deliberately neutral. “For needlessly endangering our sons.”

“The Lan will pay whatever compensation is deemed appropriate.”

Jin Guangshan sighs in faux concern. “I can’t help but wonder how something like this could have happened.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes narrow at the man. 

“A mere boy messing about with talismans was able to create something so dangerous, and it was handled so carelessly? Such thoughtlessness shouldn’t go unchecked.”

The attention goes back to the boy in question. Lan Qiren thinks of what to say next. 

“It was an accident,” Wei Wuxian says plainly. 

He opens his mouth to say more.

“Ha!” Madam Jin laughs humourlessly. Wei Wuxian closes his mouth. “An accident, you say? And how did that accident come about?”

Lan Qiren's frustration grows by the second as Wei Wuxian is denied the opportunity to explain himself. 

“There was a disagreement that got out of hand,” he responds. He doesn’t try to say more this time. 

This was not a good enough answer. 

“Accident or not, this cannot go unpunished.”

Lan Qiren clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

“Your sons, Madams,” he starts carefully. “Had a disagreement in our library where Wei-gongzi was working on countering arrays that I had assigned him. His work, among other things, ended up being collateral damage.”

Both women bristled at the insinuation that their children were somewhat responsible for the situation at hand, but he continued.

“Wei Wuxian had proven himself capable of handling a variety of different arrays and talismans, among other types of experimental cultivation tools, without the need for direct supervision. Jin-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi were the ones who caused an issue in his workspace.”

The ‘how’ of the events that transpired tend to be overlooked in favour of focusing on the ‘what’ happened, eager to assign responsibility based on the affected party. So Lan Qiren allows the Sect Leaders a moment to absorb the full picture, to make sure that they understand the disgraceful behaviours of their own children that brought about a situation that could have easily been avoided.

“And you’re confident you can reverse what happened?” Nie Mingjue cuts in, hands clenched so tightly, no doubt terrified for his brother’s safety.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren says firmly. “I’m as eager to solve this as all of you are.”

“Is that right?” Yu Ziyuan mocks. “Then why are we only being informed now after two weeks have already passed. My son has been missing for two weeks!”

“As have my nephews, Madam Yu.”

A beat passes.

Wei Wuxian shifts awkwardly in the silence and Lan Qiren is just relieved that the boy is still in fact capable of reacting.

 “Both of my nephews disappeared with the rest of your heirs. I am just as anxious about their well-beings as you are, if not more. ”

Lan Qiren had not begun this meeting thinking that he could persuade the sect leaders to listen to this unbelievable situation and follow along without question. No, that was naive and he was too old to believe in the integrity that individuals of their status should possess. He began this meeting knowing that while they have lost their heirs, the Lan have lost both the heir and the spare. There is nothing the sects love more than to compare themselves to each other, and that is how Lan Qiren knew he’d have their cooperation by the end of this meeting. Compensation would still be necessary, but to demand so much when the Lan were the more affected party would make them shameless.

Jiang Fengmian was the first to recover.

“The Jiang are willing to do what is necessary to retrieve the boys.”

Lan Qiren nods in thanks. “The Lan graciously accept.”

Nie Mingjue stares down at Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian,” his voice resonates within the hall. “You can bring my brother back?”

The boy meets his glare unflinchingly. 

“Yes,” he says. “I’m the only one here who can.”

They all watch, transfixed by the utter lack of hesitance in his answer. Practically gawking at the audacity, yet somehow lacking the flare of youthful overconfidence.

The Nie Sect Leader’s mouth curls into a smirk before directing his attention back to Lan Qiren.

With cupped hands he says, “The Nie are also willing to offer support.”

The Jin have no choice but to follow suit.

Everything falls into place from there.

—

“Your arrogance knows no bounds, Wei Wuxian.”

“Is it really arrogance if everyone knows exactly how capable I am?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re better off for it, Wen Qing.”

“...But are you?”

“What?”

“Are you better off for it?”

“What a question.”

“Wei Wuxian.” 

“Whether I’m better off or not doesn’t matter. Careful guniang, it almost sounds like you care about me.”

“Who cares about you, idiot.”

“Wen Qing, you wound me!”

“This won’t end the way you want it to. This isn’t a permanent solution; the sects won’t just leave us alone.”

“So I’m just supposed to leave you and your family to die?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t understand what you get out of this.”

“What happened to you and your family is wrong. I can’t just sit by idly. Besides, the sects wouldn’t have continued to suffer my existence regardless. I have no future with them and it’s high time I recognized it.”

“You could have lived well enough. Your shijie was willing to defend you, that could have been enough.”

“She isn’t the sect leader of the Jiang”

“You didn’t have to come with us.”

“And you didn’t have to shelter me and Jiang-zongzhu after the Wen took over Lotus Pier.”

“...Suppose we’re just two idiots criticizing each other then.”

“Two stubborn fools the cultivation world are eager to get rid of.”

“We’re going to die on this mountain, aren’t we.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t answer.

—

Lan Sizhui feels a weight in his sleeve where he’s tucked away the communicator imbued specifically with Shuilan’s spiritual energy. The table is half silent with the Lans refraining from conversation as the other end of the table futilely tries to engage them. 

He reaches into his sleeve and takes the tool into his hand. His sister turns to him and raises an eyebrow in question. He responds by lifting the tool into her view, she nods in response as she takes the brush from his hand into hers.

“Young masters,” she calls for their attention. “We’ve received a response.”

Chapter Text

Lan Shuilan runs.

She has no idea how long she’s been running. Her legs and her lungs burn at the exertion, the uneven ground causing her to stumble around, barely able to keep her footing as she runs down the rocky ground of the mountain. 

She runs. She stumbles. She falls. She gets up. She keeps going. 

She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t care if she dies before she figures out where she’s going. She can barely breathe, and the wind gets knocked out of her as she is sent crashing to the ground once again. She slides down the incline instead of rolling, and the added friction allows for her to eventually stop after she’d collected more scratches and rocks imbedding themselves into her skin. She tries to get up but her arms give out from under her and she lays there for a moment, unmoving save for the heaving of her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

She can’t stop now, they’ll catch her if she doesn’t keep moving.

She pushes up to a kneeling position and winces painfully as her knees take on the weight of her body. She manages to prop one knee up and pushes herself into a standing position. Like that of a newborn fawn she clumsily takes her first steps before regaining her footing and walking down the down trying to regain the momentum she lost. 

“Shuilan!!” a voice screams from the distance. 

The familiar voice spurs her back into motion and she runs, uncaring of how her body burns.

She can’t see clearly, her vision blurred by the dirt in her eyes and further hindered by the cold unforgiving wind as it stings her skin. 

She won’t go back. She can’t go back.

“Shuilan stop!”

She doesn’t listen.

She falls again, and this time she hears the faint sound of a crack unlike the sound of branches she’d been hearing before.

She hits the ground hard, and after spitting out the dirt that had gotten in her mouth she registers the throbbing of her ankle. Distantly she hears the sound of footsteps rushing to her.

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t bother. She stays face down in the dirt. She breathes and wills herself not to cry, not to make any noise. Maybe if she’s lucky they’ll think she’s already dead and leave her body here to rot on the side of the mountain for the scavengers to take care of.

Her eyes have closed. She doesn’t know who got to her, but they turn her body over with a carefulness that makes it difficult to guess. The person picks her up whispering into her ear, but she doesn’t know what they’re saying. She’s exhausted but forces herself to open her eyes, and is met with the white of a clothed shoulder. 

She closes her eyes again and doesn’t fight off the drowsiness this time.

—

A whole and one third of a ke. 

It takes at least a whole and one third of a ke for ziziphus seeds to simmer in water in order to produce a decoction with an adequate potency that will yield its desired effects when imbibed. 

Zizyphus plants produce a fruit that is sweet and slightly tart to taste. They are not native Gusu, and grow further west and are imported into places like Caiyi through merchant ships. The price of the fruit depends on the vendor who sells it, but due to the abundance of them they aren’t overly expensive. Alongside the fruit, the seeds can be sold separately and enjoyed in a stirfry alongside other legumes and whatnot. 

Zizyphus seeds traditionally treat yin deficiency in the body. Insufficiency of yin creates an imbalance between yin and yang, an inability for the yang to return to yin. Such a thing can be caused by too much yang in one’s liver, which leads to an impurity in the blood circulating in the body that fails to nourish the heart and keep it in a state that allows for yin and yang to balance each other. According to the scholars, yin and yang meet in perfect harmony in the night during one’s sleep. The heart is the home of the yang, but yin is what keeps the heart well enough to house it, and when the yin is deficient it leads to fatigue. Ziziphus seeds nourish the liver which replenishes the yin that will then in turn cure the fatigue. 

Wei Shuilan thinks that the scholars could have used less words to say the seeds of the plant have sedative properties.

The potency of the sedative can be increased by roasting the seeds before steeping them in water to create a decoction. The taste of the tonic water is rather unpleasant, but Shuilan prefers to drink her medicine. She roasts the seeds she bought in a small clay pot heated by a candle underneath it. She sits on the patio at the back of the Jingshi and stares out into the view. The old target that had belonged to a younger Sizhui still in its place on the grass. The seeds continue to roast, Shuilan stirring them periodically to avoid burning. Once sufficiently roasted she separates them evenly into another pot of hot water to simmer in, and a mortar to crush into a fine powder. She lights an incense stick to keep track of the time. The Jingshi is silent save for the sound of seeds being ground and wind whistling in the distance. 

She finishes her work and carefully places the powder into a parchment lined pouch. The pouch is placed into her qiankun bag which is set aside as Shuilan now turns her attention to the pot that has been kept simmering by a heating talisman. Without the talisman the seeds would need to steep for a shi and a half, though without the constant application of heat there is no need to worry about losing potency from over boiling the seeds. It’s why Shuilan prefers to let them steep usually but today she doesn’t have the time. She wonders if she would be able to utilize what she’s learned about the array formation her father was studying to speed up the process so she wouldn’t have to wait so long for her tonic. She could if she wanted to. She doesn’t really, though. Shuilan enjoys the waiting, the process before the resulting product. If the Lan have taught her anything of value, it was patience. Delayed gratification. 

She shakes her head and straightens her back as she stirs the seeds around just to have something to do. Her posture was perfect; ever the picture of the young noble daughter that she no longer was. The practices, the rituals, the rigidity in routine, a comforting familiarity, the promise of order to combat the uncertainty of living. 

A comfort. 

A prison. 

How easy it was to fall into old habits after only two weeks. She’s naught but a fraud, only faking her independence while yearning for someone to take her hand and whisper their guidance into her ear like she’s a child once more. She wants to go home. Perhaps she had done herself a disservice by not entirely separating herself from her old life and the people from it. Perhaps her father did her a disservice by allowing it. The break was not clean, and the fractures have only grown since then. 

Shuilan sighs to herself and lets her body fall back onto the cold wood of the patio. Her conversation with Jin Zixuan had left her more unsettled than she realised. Yesterday was a blur. She was tired after lunch but now she almost wishes they hadn’t rushed back to the Cloud Recesses after reading the letter if only so she didn’t have to be alone with her thoughts.

She should leave. They don’t need her for anything else now that contact with the past has been established. The younger version of her father is a genius and should be able to figure out how to create the anchor without her assistance. Yes, it’s better to leave before she overstays her welcome. Take Suibian and go home to her little house. Shuilan is so tired, but unfortunately her sedative is not yet ready for consumption.

Her yin potion.

She laughs to herself. A humorless sound. As if she’ll ever be deficient in yin. Either as a woman or a resentful creature. A being akin to the Ghost General, whose alleged reappearance she cannot bring herself to ask her brother about, and will not allow herself to hope for. Shuilan doesn’t even know how she’d start that conversation. She’s more hurt than anything else that he wouldn’t tell her about their uncle, and for the life of her can’t understand why he didn’t tell her. Why did she have to hear about it by accident from one of his classmates?

She had not slept well since coming here, and the chaos caused by the letter left her with unidentifiable feelings she has yet to sort through. And now she finds herself avoiding everyone, not just the time traveling young masters.

Who would have thought that receiving a letter from your late father would result in inner turmoil? She was a fool for thinking she’d be unaffected.

The letter.

The fucking letter.

Shuilan runs her hands over her face as she breathes deeply. 

The letter that was received was written by one Young Master Wei, whose penmanship was neat but not without personality. The brush strokes deliberate and clean, as expected of the head disciple of a cultivation sect, and entirely unfamiliar to her. She had run her forefinger across the page under each written character after she had finished reading it, before returning it to her brother. Her baba’s writing was neater than she’d ever seen it. In his cave where the Yiling Patriarch kept all of his notes before everything fell apart, his writing was manic and took on a life of itself. Qing-jiejie would tell him his writing was shit (not in those words as she was still a lady even without the title) and Yuan-gege would giggle at the messy strokes, but Shuilan loved it. She’d take his only brush and try to copy his notes, aided by her lack of fine motor skills making her characters just as messy as his with little to no effort. Shuilan remembers when the charcoal characters became written in blood. She remembers the way her teachers thought her dull because of her messy script.

She’s angry.

Yes. That’s her problem.

She’s angry beyond belief. 

This younger version of her father has no idea what’s in store for him. The hardships, the losses, the heartbreak, the unshakeable aura of death that clings to him. And she can’t do a fucking thing about it. She wants to tell him to run, but if he does what happens after that? She can live–ha!--with never being born, she cannot live with the chance that she might have endangered another version of her brother under the pretence that it might have saved their father. Dooming the little boy to die in a labour camp he never should have been in because the truth of the matter is that had Wei Wuxian not gone through all that he did, he might not have saved the Wen remnants. She loved her father, and maybe in another reality he would have lived a long, happy life. In another life she’d have more than a sword whose name was more a sentencing than a gift, and the memories he didn’t mean for her to carry. But Wei Shuilan cannot guarantee his life and she will not risk the people in a reality that is not her own. It is selfish. She is selfish for wanting it. She is angry and she doesn’t know what to do about it. She turns her head and peers into the Jingshi, in the corner where they keep her Baba’s memorial tablet as if it would help her find the answers she’s looking for.

She is not fit for company right now and is thankful that everyone else is busy with other things to do. Shuilan can’t avoid them. Instead she hopes that everyone stays preoccupied enough to give her the time to collect herself.

The incense stick burns out with the scent of sandalwood that is ubiquitous to Hanguang-jun’s home.

—

When Wei Shuilan wakes the next morning from a dreamless sleep to the sound of porcelain shattering, immediately followed by hushed voices cursing at each other, she thinks to herself that this must be her punishment for allowing herself to hope. 

—

Jingyi stands to the side holding up the diagram of the array Shuilan designed to take the place of a cultivator as the physical anchor for their time traveling endeavors. Shuilan knelt on the grass, garbed in her normal attire, as she draws the array with chalk to make it easy to brush away if any changes need to be made. 

It’s just the two of them right now. The time displaced young masters currently in class, much to their chagrin, and Sizhui in a meeting with the Zewu-jun, Grandmaster Lan, and the elders, along with the Twin Jades of Lan. The elders insisted on it, and though Lan Jingyi is curious, he is not looking forward to whatever demands they are going to make when everything is so close to being done. As the years go by he finds himself growing more and more frustrated by the traditionalists of the sect, as irreverent as it is for him to say so, but there is no other way to say it. Their teachers taught them the precepts—taught each of them how to be a proper Junzi—but do not follow them as they should and unwittingly become the vessels themselves that they degrade and make examples of. Jingyi is well past the age where he will follow an elder blindly without question, even if it means he isn’t as respectful as one should be to an elder, but as of late he finds himself toeing the line between being an obedient disciple and following their teachings as they were taught to him. Upholding justice, doing what is right, and being kind. Being more than just a vessel of the Lan, for a vessel can never truly be a Junzi in its limited capacity of its own capabilities in every regard.  

He loves his sect, and he believes in what they stand for, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be frustrated by the culture he’s grown up in.

Jingyi takes a quiet breath and recentres himself, focusing on the task at hand. At the moment they’re testing out the teleportation array that will be used in tandem with the talisman. If done correctly it should create a direct line from now to twenty years into the past where the same array is drawn. The design of the array should be distinct enough to eliminate any further interference. Jingyi can’t wait for everything to go back to normal. Everyone’s on edge, anticipation filling the habitually tranquil air of Cloud Recesses. The Lan disciple watches his friend in silence, letting her concentrate on her task, and Jingyi lets himself enjoy the calmness that has become a rarity in the recent days. 

Though he’s glad the time traveling fiasco is nearing its end, he is sad to see Wei Shuilan go. The last two weeks have really reminded him of how much he’s missed her since she’s made a home elsewhere. It reminds him of just how strange it was for him when she had left. He remembers asking Sizhui if he resented her for leaving the way he sometimes did back then, when he was younger and less understanding.

Lan Sizhui, his best friend, the ever perfect elder brother. Never finding fault in his younger sister, and even when he did, Sizhui would never hold it against her. Neither could Jingyi when he got older.

The visits between them have gotten few and far between over the years and each time she felt so changed. How many more years will pass like this?

Jingyi shakes the thought out of his head. It’s not going to happen. When he and Sizhui are officially senior disciples they will be allowed to take more trips by themselves without having to get the trips approved. They’ll even get to travel with her and that other rogue cultivator she’s friends with. Yes, he just needs to wait a little bit longer. 

“Hey, Shuilan,” he says, rolling up the parchment now that she’s done drawing in the grass. “Do you think you could stay in Gusu for a little longer?” 

She looks up from where she’s kneeling in the dirt. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, the elders are getting antsy. Best for me to leave before they really lose their patience.” 

Jingyi hums in understanding and squashes down the disappointment. 

Instead he says, “I’ll miss you”

Shuilan’s eyes widen, mouth slightly ajar in surprise before her gaze softens affectionately. “You say that like you’ll never see me again.” 

“Hardly,” Jingyi scoffs. “You’ll never be rid of me so long as I have a say in it. I just…I’ll miss you, is all.” 

Shuilan stands up from the grass and walks up to him. She steps closer and wraps her arms around him. 

“I’ll miss you, too, Jingyi,” she says to him, voice sincere, almost apologetic.

It’s ridiculous; what does she have to be sorry about after everything she’s helped them with?

Jingyi returns the embrace, careful not to jostle his hold on the parchment. 

“Next time we see each other, let’s go on a nighthunt.”

“Mn,” Shuilan says into his shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while, basking in each other’s warmth.

“We should probably test the array now,” Jingyi suggests.

Shuilan pulls away and nods. She takes the parchment from Jingyi, places it in the array, and then throws the time travel talisman at it. The array lights like a candle and when the brightness dims the parchment is no longer there. Instead it will hopefully be on the other side of the sect where they drew the other array about a ke from now. 

Shuilan plops back down onto the grass and lays back with her arms and legs sprawled out, her hair lightly tousled from the impact. Jingyi sits down next to her, legs kicked out in front of him. Neither of them feeling the urgency they should to go check on the other array.

“Should we just send a note to Sizhui to check the other array for us?” 

“Mn,” she hums with her eyes already closed. 

Jingyi huffs out a chuckle and goes to lie down next to her.

—

Sizhui let his shoulders drop from where they almost touched his ears, the frustration leaving his body the moment he received a viable excuse to leave this unnecessary meeting. He’d taken out the note he’d gotten from his communicator and practically fled the room once he gained permission, taking the Twin Jades of Lan with him. The two brothers share a hesitant glance with each other as they cautiously regard the clearly agitated young man. Neither say a word as they follow him.

Lan Xichen clears his throat. “Sizhui,” he says gently. “Is everything alright with you?”

“Hm?” Sizhui responds, distracted. “Oh, yes. Yes I’m fine.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen says, not believing him. He tries to think of what else to say but the moment passes as they turn a corner on the path and Sizhui appears to lose himself in thought.

Sizhui’s mind has been running nonstop for the last couple days. Much like Jingyi he feels a certain anticipation about getting all the young masters home, but he’s latched onto it as a distraction, to keep him from spiraling as he most definitely would if he allowed himself to dwell on other matters. 

Like his deceased father.

Before he can stop himself his hand is already in his left sleeve feeling for the letter he received from Young Master Wei. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed by his companions. Sizhui presses his lips together tightly and keeps walking in the direction of the array Jingyi asked him to check. They should still have some time before anything is to appear in it. He has time to collect himself before they send another letter to the past with the array design, its details, and the instructions on when to activate it.

He’s fine. 

He doesn’t notice how Lan Wangji’s mouth opens and closes, wanting to soothe his stress but not knowing how. So the second young master only continues to watch him worriedly, not unlike the way Hanguang-jun’s clumsy attempts at comfort were in his early days as a father. 

They make it to the array and wait for what they need. It shouldn’t be much longer until the parchment appears but the dead air draws out the wait uncomfortably. Perhaps any other day Sizhui would have made more of an effort to provide levity to the situation, but not today. 

He stares down at the array waiting for the glow of activation. Finally the parchment appears and Sizhui goes to grab it after the light of the array dies out. He wipes away the chalk with the bottom of his boot, leaving no trace of the array. Sizhui turns to the other Lans and smiles.

“Everything seems to be in order so let’s make our way to the library.”

—

Sizhui finds Jingyi alone in the library in their usual workspace that had been sectioned off for their research. He arches a brow at the boy in question. 

“I took Shuilan back to the Jingshi,” he answers, “She fell asleep a little bit ago, so after I wiped away the array I thought it best to let her rest while she can.”

Sizhui nods in response. 

“Is she okay?” Lan Xichen asks. “Excuse my saying so, but she’s not looked well for the last couple of days.”

Lan Sizhui’s lips twisted uncomfortably, reluctant to answer. He settles on a placid smile then answers, “She’s fine. There’s no need to worry yourselves.” 

No one seems convinced by that answer to the absolute shock of no one.

Lan Jingyi pats Sizhui’s shoulder, offering him a sympathetic look before turning to the brothers with a sheepish smile. “Just a little bit of stress, young masters. We’re all a bit on edge right now and since Shuilan’s the one overseeing everything, well, the sleepless nights really add up. ”

Sizhui sighs, “The sooner we wrap things up, the sooner she’ll be able to rest properly.”

That goes for all of us, really.

And though they’re so close to the end, there is still so much to do. The letter Jiang Wanyin concocted with Shuilan, while it was enough to convince the sect leaders to hear out the outlandish notion of time travel and ensure their compliance (though desperation regarding the return of their sons was not a small factor to consider), it was not enough evidence to reassure them that no physical harm had been done. Each young master had sent back their own letters to personally assure their respective parents that they were well, and encourage them to go along with the wishes of Lan Qiren–and consequently Wei Wuxian. 

Just thinking about it makes Sizhui’s brow tick. Jin Zixuan’s letter was somehow both too short, and full of unnecessary detail, while Nie Huaisang’s letter somehow had ink splashed all over it. They tried to ease the clumsy young master that his script was still readable, and that they could still send it as it was, to no avail. Nie Huaisang was adamant that he rewrite his letter, he refused to embarrass his brother in front of everyone, which Sizhui supposed was a fair point if not essential given the reason for the communication. Both Sizhui and Jingyi had gotten annoyed and decided to leave the eccentric young master to his own idiosyncrasies, and had simply asked that Jin Zixuan include a line in his own letter explaining why Nie Huaisang had not sent back anything yet. By that point Sizhui was relieved to know that he didn’t need to check the letter from the Twin Jades of Lan, given that Lan Xichen was used to handling official correspondence. 

Patience, Sizhui reminds himself. He needs to be patient.

It doesn’t matter how quickly he can get the rest of this done by himself. There is a process that needs to be done in order to minimize the amount of error and risk. Had they been aiming strictly for efficiency, the young masters would have been gone the day they were brought to the Cloud Recesses. Maybe even earlier if Shuilan decided she didn’t need their assistance, though there would have been no guarantee that they’d be sent back to the correct timeline.

“How much longer until the other three are released from class?” Sizhui asks.

“They should be done soon,” Lan Xichen replies. “Given the somewhat unpredictable schedule they have, Uncle can’t really test them properly, so he’s been assigning them essays that they work on during class.”

Sizhui nods and takes some leftover chalk from their work table.

“Jingyi,” he calls his friend who’s disappeared at some point among the shelves. “Help me roll out the parchment.”

Lan Jingyi pops back in with a book in his hand. 

“What’s that for?”

“It’s one of Shuilan’s treatises,” Jingyi grins. “I’d forgotten just how many of them are in the main library. It’s interesting though, that she ended up an apothecary when she spent so long avoiding the healing pavilion.”

Sizhui keeps silent, like he doesn’t know exactly why that is. Like it doesn’t hurt him to try and recall her face and come up blank. Like he and sister during their childhood hadn’t spent months working on a talisman, array, mirror, any kind of tool that could have helped them recall long forgotten memories. The sad look on their father’s face when he realised what his children were doing.  

Instead he says, “There’s more of them in the Jingshi. Hanguang-jun kept everything that wasn’t approved by the elders.”

Many of them Sizhui had helped with himself. Organizing her research for her, and presenting it in a format that made her ideas more accessible because the elders had forgotten, so taken with her talent, that they still had to teach her things like that. She didn’t know how to write an introduction or conclusion, where to insert the charts and diagrams, they just assumed she’d be able to do it despite the fact that the women’s side of the sect focuses of the writing of poetry and recitation of conduct rather than academic pursuits. 

“Would Hanguang-jun be alright with me borrowing them some time?” Jingyi wondered.

“As long as you don’t pass it around, I don’t see why not,” Sizhui informed him. “The elders would take issue with it, but that’s nothing new really.”

The sound of Lan Xichen clearing his throat interrupts their conversation.

“Sizhui,” he addresses. “Might I make a request from you?”

“Of course.”

His uncle-not uncle smiles at him. “Would it be fine if Wangji and I spent the next few days at the Jingshi?”

Sizhui is surprised by the request. It must show on his face as Lan Xichen continues, even at the slightly incredulous look his brother gives him.

“I know we’re being sent home soon, but if I may be frank we’d both like to get to know the two of you better before we leave.”

“Ah,” Sizhui breathes out, not really knowing what to say.

He understands the sentiment, truly he does recognize the well-intentioned idea, but he also knows that Shuilan would not appreciate it. 

She’d do it, Sizhui knows she would, she’d just be uncomfortable the entire time it was happening. There is a reason she doesn’t seek out the young masters, doesn’t speak to them unless she has to or they find her first. Something is bound to go wrong if Sizhui grants them their request.

But then he looks to the younger version of his father and feels his resolve waver. 

The boy is as blank faced as he normally is, but Sizhui notes the twitch of his fingers, the miniscule tensing around his eyes like he’s fighting to keep his face neutral. 

I’ll apologize to her later.

Sizhui smiles at his father. “Alright, just let me tell Shuilan so we can clean up the Jingshi a bit.”

He almost laughs at the face Lan Wangji makes at the admittance of a mess in his home. 

“We just have to move a few things so everyone has a place to sleep, Lan-er-gongzi.”

Lan Xichen nudges his brother playfully, while Jingyi smiles at the positive development happening before his eyes. 

With pastries, Sizhui plans, and I’ll bring Jingyi as a buffer. Maybe even Granduncle.

—

When the other three young masters come around the mood is lighter than it has been for days. Smartly, they don’t comment on it, scared that drawing attention to it will cause it to disappear in an instance. 

Nie Huaisang cheerfully takes out his letter, neatly folded and ready to be sent off. Once it’s handed off he claps his hands together and bows in apology.

“My apologies for the delay, Sizhui-zxiong, Jingyi-xiong,” he chuckles nervously. “But I really don’t need to give my brother reasons to think something bad’s happened, and spilled ink could lead him to different conclusions. I also added a little more detail to the situation if that’s okay.”

“It’s alright,” Jingyi waves a hand dismissively, not even checking the letter. “It was the Jin who were particularly anxious. We’re sending more regular correspondence with less delay between responses now, so there shouldn’t be any issue.”

“Ah, that’s good then,” Nie Huaisang replies with an exaggerated breath of relief. “Are we just waiting for Xiao-wei now?”

“Oh, she’s resting in the Jingshi. We can handle this part without her.”

“Again?” Jiang Wanyin interjects. “She wasn’t here the first time we sent a letter back either.”

Sizhui watches the young masters take that statement in. “Is that a problem?”

“Well, no it’s not a problem…” Nie Huaisang trails off awkwardly.

“It’s just a bit strange,” Jin Zixuan takes over, not looking at anyone in particular. “You’ve all made it quite clear that we wouldn’t have gotten this far without her, yet it seems a little detached from the accomplishment. Does she have no interest in seeing the results of her efforts?”

Sizhui shares an uncertain glance at Jingyi, who shrugs a little helplessly at him. He turns back to the young masters and takes in their expressions.

“She’s just been a bit more stressed recently,” he answers, echoing Jingyi’s words from earlier. The reception is about the same as earlier as well.

“Just stressed?” Jin Zixuan repeats disbelievingly.

“It’s turned out to be a little bit more difficult than she was anticipating, is all,” Sizhui asserts. Perhaps a bit too hard as the young master turns away looking cowed. He sighs. “Young masters, I ask that you look at this from our perspective.”

He doesn’t say anything else. If they don’t understand what he means by that, it’s no loss to him. He’s not going to spell out something so obvious to them. He directs his attention onto the array drawn in chalk on the parchment they’d rolled out before the others joined them.

“Use the transcommunicator to send off the array design with Nie-gongzi’s letter,” he directs Jingyi. “I’ll finish the array.”

At Jingyi’s affirmitive, Sizhui begins to grind the inkstone to trace over the chalk. He feels someone take a seat next to him, and finds himself face to face with Lan Wangji who has a hand reaching out but stopping just before the inkstone. Dumbfounded Sizhui lets him take it.

“This will be faster,” Lan Wangji explains, then turns away and focuses on the ink. 

Sizhui nods belatedly. He takes the brush and dips it into the water then the ink, his movements automatic and stiff from the unexpected assistance. Just before he returns redirects his attention on the array he looks at his father, who is awkwardly avoiding his eyes with the single minded goal of grinding ink. 

Sizhui feels a rush of affection run through him. He smiles and begins to draw over the lines of chalk.

Chapter Text

Shuilan stares somewhat uncomprehendingly at Sizhui as he explains to her the Twin Jades of Lan’s request to let them sleep in the Jingshi for the next couple days as they finish up the concluding steps of the plan.

“And you agreed,” she says.

“Yes,” he responds. 

“Why?”

“I didn’t see the harm in it,” he answers apologetically.

The silence stretches for longer than is normal for them when they are conversing in earnest. Had he been anyone else he would have felt awkward, but he knew to give her time to process before continuing.

“I can tell them I’ve changed my mind,” Sizhui offers. “It’s just that, they expressed their desire to get to know us a little better before they’re sent back home.”

His sister’s face twisted slightly, likely thinking of the kinds of questions the brothers are sure to ask, none of which she would like to answer in its full truth or simply can’t on principle. But though she is uncomfortable she isn’t entirely against the idea. Both of them weighing the desire to ask their own questions about their fathers—the type of questions they don’t want to bother Hanguang-jun with—against their reluctance to share personal knowledge of the future. Sizhui understands, but he also feels that they both need this. He waits patiently for an answer.

Finally, Shuilan sighs. “Suppose we should make room for them now.”

Sizhui smiles in relief. “Yes, we should start with the daybed.”

Shuilan nods and they begin their task of rearranging the furniture. 

The two are silent as they move the daybed, then check the storage area for the extra cot Hanguang-jun kept when he needed to sleep in one of their rooms to watch them overnight when they got sick as children.

Sizhui then moves to his father’s room to straighten out the sheets on his bed for the Second Young Master. When he comes back out he finds his sister kneeling in front of their Baba’s memorial tablet with two incense sticks lit in the pot. He kneels down next to her and clasps his hands together. Old thoughts resurface as the scent of sandalwood meets his nose.

I hope we meet again in the next life, Baba, he says in his thoughts as he bows once. 

“The kitchens should be informed,” Shuilan says, not taking her eyes off the tablet.

Sizhui wraps an arm around her. “I’ll send for a servant later. We should head over to the dining pavilion.”

At her nod, he pulls them both to their feet and they make their way out of the Jingshi. With one last glance to the small shrine in the corner of their father’s home, Sizhui shuts the door and walks with his sister. 

—

Xichen feels an uncharacteristic bubble of anticipation within him during his midday meal. He’d been wanting to speak more with Sizhui and Shuilan, and he thought he’d be able to do so considering they were assisting them with the all the time travel things. It was unfortunate that it seemed that Shuilan had no interest in speaking with them on matters that had nothing to do with their work, and though her brother was more open he seemed to follow her lead. Had it not been for Lan Jingyi, Xichen doubts that they would know anything about the young girl that one wouldn’t be able to discern simply from watching her. 

Not that Shuilan had been necessarily unwelcome with them. She spoke with them, answered their questions with the patience and amiability of a teacher, but she does not spend unnecessary time with them, she does not ask them anything beyond what was required of her in order to complete her tasks, and were it not for the open affection she bestows upon her brother and best friend, Xichen would have thought that she was merely more reserved by nature. It feeds the fear that his future self has not been a good Bofu to her, that he’d done something unforgivable and that she is trying her hardest to treat him impartially in spite of it. Assumptions are forbidden, but he can’t help himself, not in this situation where his assumptions are all he has to combat the gaps in his knowledge that he and the others have been greatly discouraged in filling. He can’t think of what it could be and he hopes more than anything that he is mistaken. She had not sought out Wangji either and it is clear that Hanguang-jun has been a wonderful father to her, whatever else her circumstances imply about their relationship. So yes, Xichen is rather impatient for nightfall so he may put his thoughts to rest. Shuilan finishes her meal as quickly as she normally does and leaves just as promptly. Xichen watches her go and catches Sizhui’s eyes as he turns back to his meal. He sends his future nephew a questioning look, and receives a nod in response. Xichen smiles at that, feeling less anxious.

The young man has been so engrossed in his own thoughts he has failed to notice the uncharacteristic behaviour of a certain Nie Heir.

Nie Huaisang is restless, and he focuses on his bland vegetables with a hardened resolve that his brother would approve of had it been in any other context. His behaviour is strange, he knows this, but he can’t act as he normally does. No, after what he’s done he’s far too anxious for that. He’s lucky that with all the preparations for sending them home everyone is too preoccupied to pay him any close attention. He won’t be able to hide it for long. Communication between the past and the future is almost instantaneous now. Nie Mingjue has received his letter by now, and all Huaisang can hope for is that his brother reacts within his expectations.

—

“You did what!?”

Lan Xichen stares aghast at his fellow sect heir, who defiantly meets his gaze with not a single ounce of contrition in his posture. He almost doesn’t recognize the boy.

“I told them about the Wens!” Nie Huaisang responded. “Does it make any sense for us to just let them do whatever they want when we know with absolute certainty that they’ll try to subjugate all the sects, including ours!?” His voice raised as he continued to speak, frustrated and determined in equal amounts. The young master looked around at his peers, all watching him with a disbelief normally reserved for his usual nonsense and un-conventionalities, but now they all looked at him like he was a different person entirely. “What we have now is the opportunity to get ahead of them, to make sure that the cultivation world is well prepared to take them on. I mean, think about it,” He gestures emphatically with his fan. “They had resorted to using demonic cultivation in order to win the war. If we gather information now we can ensure that we’ll never be in a position that requires it, and Wei Wuxian will never fall from grace, because I do not believe that he did it on a whim even if he felt powerless after losing his core.”

Nie Huaisang’s breathing grew heavier with each word and by the time he finished his tirade he was panting lightly. A charged pause followed ominously. That awful sense of foreboding Xichen’s felt for some time finally coming to head. 

Lan Xichen allows himself this moment of weakness and takes a moment to collect himself. He covers his face with his hands as he breathes in deeply while his brother places a hand on his shoulder in support.

“I don’t disagree with you,” He says slowly, ever the diplomat. “but everyone here has been so adamant about us not knowing any more than we need to. They’re not going to be happy about this.”

They truly won’t. Though Lan Jingyi had told them about the Sunshot Campaign and has been true to his word about answering any questions they had, it was still done with a sense of hesitation and careful wording lest he tells them things they supposedly weren’t ready for. 

“I know, that’s why I didn’t give them a choice,” says Nie Huaisang. “Listen, I understand their predicament but this is our timeline, not theirs. We should have the right to make these decisions whether they like it or not. Besides it’s too late now, my brother has definitely read my letter by now.”

“Yes, he most certainly has.” 

Xichen whips his head around and finds his uncle standing with a neutral expression on his face. His back straightens instinctively, ready to defend but is silenced by his Grandmaster Lan’s hand as he turns to address the perpetrator.

“Grandmaster Lan,” Nie Huaisang bows with more competence to his teacher, who arches a brow at the display.

“I won’t waste my breath telling you what you did was reckless,” Grandmaster Lan states.  “I only wish to know what you plan to do now.”

Nie Huaisang rises from the bow and stares back with clear resolve.

“I plan to learn as much as I can about the Wen Sects movements at this point in time so that we workshop plans for how to handle the inevitable. Things will change very fast after that but if we take them on sooner rather than later, we’ll have a chance of taking down the Wen Sect with fewer casualties than your timeline.”

“This can’t be accomplished once you’ve already been sent home? We’ve not received a reply from your brother yet, he may decide that it would be better for all of you to return regardless.”

“With respect, Grandmaster,” Nie Huaisang says. ”I doubt that’s what my brother will decide. It would be beneficial for us to know how the Sunshot Campaign was won in this timeline, so that we’re prepared for any and all circumstances. The details of the Wen Sect’s movements and the minor sects conquered will be what we need to focus on, and being able to find that out without having to endanger any of our own is an advantage that our sect leaders would be foolish to give up.”

Xichen watches in astonishment. He doesn’t recognize the boy in front of him. 

“Very well,” Grandmaster Lan acquiesces.

“Shufu?” Wangji says incredulously. Their uncle doesn’t look at either of them.

“I hope you’re prepared to be met with many disagreements,” he says, still fully engaged with Nie Huaisang.

“Sir?” the first hint of uncertainty since he’d confessed his actions.

“We did not tell you of our history, your future, for a reason,” Grandmaster Lan reminds all of them. “The Sunshot Campaign’s victory was hardfought, and though the allied sects were victorious, many were not happy with the outcome. There are those that will use this as an opportunity to fix the things they were unhappy with, it won’t matter to them that nothing will change our past. You already know about the Wen Sect, you have enough information to ready your sects for the beginnings of war. Knowing more will leave you with unrealistic expectations of what you can and cannot fix.”

Xichen notes how his Uncle says this all with an uncharacteristic casualness that leaves Xichen feeling admittedly off center. He speaks as though whatever is decided is of no consequence to him. His normally most severe family member acts as though he is only speaking of all of this as a courtesy, an obligation that he feels no actual weight in.

“As for information,” Grandmaster Lan carries on. “will you want to involve the other sects in this endeavour? I imagine the other major sect leaders from your time will want input from their sects directly.”

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang says, a bit helplessly.

“You’ll contact the other sects for us?” Jiang Cheng joins the conversation. 

“If it comes to that, we may not have a choice, Jiang-gongzi,” Grandmaster Lan admitted. “Your parents and Sect Leaders may demand it.”

They all nod, starting to feel the weight of what is to come.

Xichen fights the feeling of resentment rising in him. He didn’t decide on this, he wants to go home, and if this is what was going to happen they shouldn’t have bothered to keep them all in the dark up until now. And there’s still Sizhui and Shuilan to account for.

“Will Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan be involved with all of this?” he asks quietly.

His uncle’s expression is pitying, and Xichen wants to laugh. His uncle is many things, but softness has never been in his nature. It feels unnatural, this isn’t his uncle, not yet.

“That will be their decision,” he says, not unkindly, but firm in his decision. “Will you all be informing them of the change in plans or shall I.”

The statement, because it certainly wasn’t a question, wreaks of challenge. One that Nie Huaisang appears to be the only one who doesn’t shy away from. 

“We will inform them,” the young master says with determination. 

Grandmaster Lan looks at him with begrudging approval. 

“Very well,” he nods. “You may want to do so soon.”

 The man turns to his nephews. 

“Xichen, Wangji,” he addresses them. “Do not take their reactions personally.”

And with that the man makes his exit, leaving the two Lans confused and anxious. 

Once Grandmaster Lan is gone Nie Huaisang lets out a heavy sigh and sits down at the work table they’ve made their default meeting area for any and all purposes. The boy places his head in his hands taking controlled breaths. 

“I thought my heart was going to give out,” he says, though no whine colours his voice for once.

“You would have deserved it,” Jin Zixuan snaps. “Why would you do this without telling any of us?”

“You’d either have talked me out of it or accidentally told someone and they never would have let that letter be sent,” Nie Huaisang waves him off. “I’ve listed my reasons for doing this, I don’t think I need to go over them again.”

Predictably, Jin Zixuan is not happy with this answer, nor does the other boy care for the blase attitude. Before he bites out another remark Jiang Cheng is the one who cuts him off.

“So who’s going to tell them?” he asks. “Personally, I think it should be Nie Huaisang so he’s the one who’ll get his head bitten off.”

“How cruel, Jiang-xiong,” his usual cheeriness falling flat. “But yes I will tell them myself, if any of you want to watch I’ll be going in a minute.”

“We’ll be going with you,” Xichen states for himself and Wangji. His brother nods, frowning, equally as unhappy with this turn of events.

“I won’t,” Jin Zixuan declares. “I don’t disagree with your reasoning, but I’d rather not get caught as collateral damage.”

Jiang Cheng snorts, his thoughts on that line of action clear as he earns himself a glare from the Jin Heir. Jin Zixuan leaves, presumably back to his guest room. At his exit Nie Huaisang raises his head to Jiang Cheng with an arched brow.

“I’m not missing this.”

Nie Huaisang nods wryly before standing. “I’ll pretend you’re there for moral support.”

The Twin Jades of Lan share a concerned look before they all head out in the direction of the Jingshi.

—

When the door opens to reveal one Wei Shuilan, Nie Huaisang can practically feel the confidence he had when justifying his actions to Grandmaster Lan waver. He breathes in as inconspicuously as he can before smiling at the girl who returns it with a slight dip of the chin.

“May we come in?” he asks while gesturing to the three other young masters behind him. “There’s something we need to speak with you about.”

Wei Shuilan takes a second to answer. Her eyes don’t leave his face, but she eventually nods and walks back into the Jingshi leaving the door open behind her without pausing to look at the rest of the boys. Nie Huaisang can’t help but think that doesn’t bode very well for them.

“Are Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui with you?” asks Lan Xichen.

Shuilan shakes her head. “You missed them. Lan-zongzhu summoned them to handle some new correspondence they’ve received from your families half a shichen ago.”

“You didn’t go with them?” Jiang Cheng spoke up once they’ve all sat down around the small table while Shuilan goes to fetch a teapot. 

“No, they don’t need me for that,” she takes the cups to the table while they wait for the tea to steep. “I’ll be leaving in a couple days, so there’s no reason for me to be involved.” 

“Oh? So soon? Sizhui said that it might take another week to send us back,” Nie Huaisang hopes she isn’t too upset at having that plan thrown out of the metaphorical window.

“Yes, well, I’ve done my part.”

Nie Huaisang notes the reactions of the others in his peripheral. Shuilan appears unconcerned with the scrutiny she’s just invited onto herself. 

“You won’t be staying until we’re sent back?” Jiang Cheng asks, sounding almost hurt.

“Mn,” Shuilan rises to go retrieve the teapot. “Once all the concerns of your Sect Leaders are addressed you’ll be sent back, and quite frankly you don’t need me for that so I’ll be heading home. I’d have liked to leave tonight but Sizhui told me about the favor you asked him.”

The last bit was directed towards Xichen-ge, who nods and smiles in her direction.

“Yes, I hope that wasn’t much of an issue.”

Lan Wangji nods in agreement as Shuilan waves off the concern. She fills each cup with a precision that is common among daughters of gentry who have had to work around the hindrance of long flowing sleeves dipping into the cups. Though Shuilan’s sleeves are bound by arm braces, the movement is familiar.

Nie Huaisang feels his hands grow uncomfortably clammy around the cup he’s gripped to keep himself from fidgeting.

“Do you know when Sizhui-xiong and Jingyi-xiong will be back?” he tries to keep his voice casual. “I’d like to not have to repeat myself.”

Shuilan’s eyes narrow imperceptibly at him. “I don’t but they should be back soon."

The boy nods and takes a sip of his tea.

The sound of a door opening causes him to choke slightly, his nerves getting the better of him. 

“Shuilan?” Lan Sizhui’s voice carries through to the main room, and they can hear Lan Jingyi shuffling through behind him.

“At the table,” Shuilan calls out. “We have guests.”

Nie Huaisang steels himself for the conversation that needs to happen and ignores the weighted looks being thrown his way, some more subtly than others.

Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi both greet those at the table cordially and they seat themselves on either side of Wei Shuilan, with Jingyi giving her a friendly nudge of the shoulder causing the corners of her mouth to tilt upwards betraying her amusement.

The three turn their attention Lan Xichen. The usual leader of their group shifts slightly, which would have looked awkward if it was any other young master, but on Lan Xichen it was as graceful as any other movement he acted out. 

It made Nie Huaisang irrationally upset. 

He cleared his throat and redirected their attention to him. 

“First I wanted to say that all of us really appreciate all the help that you, the three of you expecially, have provided us,” he leads with. “But there has been a change of plans, and Grandmaster Lan suggested we inform you ourselves.”

Jiang Cheng lets out a disbelieving sound while the Lan brothers watch him with a sort of morbid curiosity. But that doesn’t matter right now.

Wei Shuilan dips her chin in acknowledgment, which he takes as his sign to continue. Nie Huaisang tries to ignore the increasing suspicion he feels from Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.

“But you see, I understand your concerns and why you don’t want us to know so much about our futures, I do, I really do. I understand but,” Nie Huaisang pauses, looking at the three of them as earnestly as he can express. “I can’t go back without knowing how my brother dies.”

Lan Xichen mouth opens in shock, “Huaisang what–”

“I heard some disciples talking during the archery class we attended,” Nie Huaisang cuts the other boy off before he loses his nerve. “They called me ‘Nie-zongzhu’, and the only reason I’d be Sect Leader would be if my brother is already dead.”

Lan Jingyi opens his mouth, no doubt to try and talk around it but lying isn’t in a Lan’s nature. The siblings on the other hand look neither surprised nor upset at the information that Nie Huaisang has brought up.

The rest of the room has been struck silent, and Nie Huaisang is relieved he kept it to himself. They stew in the silence for a moment, and he watches as Lan Sizhui looks to his sister who nods at him. The boy looks back to Nie Huaisang.

“What exactly happened, Nie-gongzi?” ‘ What did you do?’ is what Nie Huaisang thinks the boy really wants to ask but is too polite to say it outright. He breathes in deeply through his nose.

“I have informed my brother of the Wens and their plan to subjugate the cultivation world, and a little of the Sunshot Campaign that had taken place in this timeline.”

He braces himself for their reactions, but finds only Lan Jingyi scowling at him in displeasure at the admission. The nervous young master watches as Lan Sizhui and Wei Shuilan share a meaningful look before the younger sibling sips her tea, seemingly indifferent to the conversation being had, while the other one sighs but doesn’t look all that upset. Neither reaction encourages confidence but it could be much much worse, so Nie Huaisang counts it as a win for now.

“I take it this means you’ll be staying a little longer,” Lan Sizhui says, addressing the rest of the young masters. 

“It would seem so, Sizhui,” Lan Xichen responds, almost sheepishly. 

“You’re all in agreement with this?” 

“It’s a little too late to take it back now.”

“Well not entirely,” Lan Jingyi mumbles.

Nie Huaisang looks at him with displeasure. “What do you mean by that?”

The boy shrugs before answering, “It’s early enough in your timeline to rally the sects together to present a united front against the Wen, and you might even destabilize them before a full on war breaks out. The reason the Wen Sect was so successful in the beginning was because they caught all the other sects off guard.”

Shuilan scoffs openly, ignoring the placating hand that her brother puts on her shoulder.

Her reaction makes Nie Huaisang all the more determined to get her help. Despite the fact that she wasn’t there during the war, he knows that whoever wants to help will be biased about retelling of the beginnings of the Sunshot Campaign, he needs someone who isn’t afraid to call them out on it. Between the two ends of that spectrum he’ll be able to have a more accurate account of what actually happened. He also knows that she has nothing to gain by staying except for a mountain of work from people she wants nothing to do with, and he’s not sure he can trick her into it.

He bites back the groan of frustration that threatens to escape him just thinking about how he’s going to go about this. 

“It would be helpful to know what their future plans are so that we can anticipate and at least interfere if we can’t stop them,” argues Nie Huaisang.

He lets the contemplative silence settle over the room.

“Fair enough,” Lan Jingyi concedes. 

“Mn,” Lan Sizhui hums in agreement. “Though I suppose that means we’ve exhausted our usefulness then.”

“What do you mean by that?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“Well it’s not like the three of us will be of much help. We were barely toddlers and Shuilan wasn’t even born yet when the Sunshot campaign ended,” Lan Sizhui explains kindly.

“Yes, uncle said that we might need to involve the other sects if we go through with this idea,” says Lan Xichen. 

“If?” Shuilan cuts in. “You’ve not decided yet?”

“Ah, well,” Lan Xichen looks impassively at Nie Huaisang. “We’d only been informed of the suggestion recently.”

“You might as well, really,” says Shuilan to the shock of most of the room. “You’ve already sent a letter back, so I doubt your sect leaders will pass on the information.”

“It would be a lot easier if you could talk to them directly,” Lan Sizhui mused aloud. “Letters may get tedious with all the information that needs to get back to them, and they’re likely to want regular reports.”

“If you could somehow open a temporary gateway between the two places so you could speak to each other with no delay,” Lan Jingyi added.

Everyone looked toward Wei Shuilan who shot them an unimpressed stare.

“Your Wei-gongzi seems just as capable, go ask him.”

Lan Jingyi playfully bumped his shoulder to hers. “You don’t want to see if you can do it?”

“I think I’m done messing about with time for the rest of my life. I’ve done what was necessary, don’t ask for more.”

Nie Huaisang frowned at that. “Wouldn’t you like to see your father one more time?”

He flinches under Lan Wangji’s glare, but he’s too curious to stop.

“Both of you, if you made something like that you could also speak to him one last time,” he says to Sizhui this time. “You don’t even have to tell him who either of you are, but he’d be happy to speak with the people who were able to reverse engineer his own invention to contact him directly.”

“No.”

Shuilan looks to her brother with an unreadable expression.

“No,” he repeats firmly. 

“Sizhui, won’t you at least consider it?” Lan Xichen asks, eyes brimming with confusion.

“They would deduce who she was as quickly as anyone who knew him would. No, we won’t be speaking with him. That won’t be necessary.”

Nie Huaisang doesn’t believe that for a moment. “Are you certain–-”

“Gege?” Shuilan says softly. “Do you want to? I would make something like that if you wished to see him again.”

Lan Sizhui quickly turns to and holds his sister’s hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb, ignoring the rest of the room. The care in which he takes to soothe his younger sister leaves Nie Huaisang with his teeth clenched tightly, reminding him that his own older brother is no longer with him and they won’t tell him why. 

“Even if you did, I would not speak with him unless you were there with me. Do you understand?”

Shuilan’s face is as blank as it normally is, not giving way to the confliction her questions alluded to, but eventually she nods. He kisses her temple before turning back to the guests while Lan Jingyi leans a little closer to his friends. 

“As was stated earlier,” Sizhui carries on as if nothing happened. “We won’t be of much assistance regarding this new plan of yours, but Jingyi and I will be happy to assist you with what we can.”

Nie Huaisang should be happy with that, really that’s almost exactly what he wanted and he got it without much effort on his part. He should give his thanks and move on. He’s not someone prone to outbursts, especially when it’s something that truly isn’t his business. 

And yet.

He sees his own father glaring at him, unrecognizable to his own son. He remembers crying as his da-ge carried him out of the room, and how it felt like only a moment later his father was gone.

“Truly?” Nie Huaisang says in disbelief. “You’ve an opportunity to speak with your father again and you won’t take it?”

“Huaisang,” warning is clear in Lan Xichen’s tone, but Huaisang finds he doesn’t care much for what he thinks at the moment. 

“You have a chance to see your father untainted,” he continues. “And you won’t take it. ”

“Huaisang—!”

“It’s not as if it matters if others can tell that you’re his children. We’re in the future, it’s not exactly scandalous. You’d be able to see your father healthy and whole, untouched by the gross perversions of demonic cultivation. Untouched by the horrors of war even. This is your chance to see him before he got lost in his own madness, so you have more than your own vague memories of him and you’re telling me you don’t want it?”

Lan Sizhui’s fists tightened on his lap. Good , Nie Huaisang thought. It means he’s listening. 

“Nie Huaisang!” Jiang Cheng yells, wanting to avoid the oncoming argument.

“What?!” he yells back. The other three young masters startle back not expecting the response. “It’s true, isn’t it?! Their father was a good cultivator and an even better person! They should know what he was like before everything went wrong for him!

“It never should have happened in the first place. I’m not naive enough to believe that anticipating every attack would have stopped every tragedy from happening, that it would have saved every soldier fighting on the frontlines, but if the sects were armed and ready as we should have been, instead of mistakenly believing Wen Rouhan would have enough honor in him not to dare, then Wei Wuxian would never had had to suffer the loss of his core.”

He looks around him, at the horrified faces of the other travelers, of the angry red that spreads through Lan Jingyi’s face, of Lan Sizhui’s entirely blank expression like the other boy wasn’t even there.

But Wei Shuilan’s expression was different.

It was slight, fleeting even, but Nie Huaisang knew what he saw. He saw hope softening Wei Shuilan’s expression, and he’d use it to convince her to do this, and perhaps it would even help him to convince her to stay and help them. As Nie Huaisang was about to push forward with a reignited confidence, the sound of palms slamming onto the table redirected his attention. 

Lan Sizhui had pushed himself up onto his knees with his head bowed down. He watched in shock as the other boy’s shoulders began to shake. Nie Huaisang caught the telltale sheen of tears yet to fall.

“Sizhui—”

Whatever Lan Jingyi was about to say was lost as Lan Sizhui wretched himself away from the table and ran out of the Jingshi without a word or glance to anyone else. 

Lan Jingyi turned a furious gaze onto Nie Huaisang. “You–”

“Jingyi,” Shuilan brought his attention back with a soft call of his name. “Go after him. And take the Twin Jades with you.”

He looks like he wants to argue but the Lan lets out a breath and nods. With one final squeeze of her arm he heads out, gesturing for the other two to follow. The brothers look back, unsure of leaving the situation as it is, but noticing Lan Jingyi’s impatience they follow him out of the Jingshi.

“The two of you should head back to the guest quarters,” Shuilan says to the remaining young masters. “We can talk about this tomorrow once everyone’s had some time to think by themselves.”

Nie Huaisang bit back his frustration. There went his chance to convince her, gone along with Lan Sizhui’s abrupt departure. 

“You’re not going after him yourself?” Jiang Cheng asks.

Shuilan shakes her head. “No. He doesn’t let himself be properly upset around me. I’ll speak with him if he comes back tonight, and if not I’ll find him tomorrow.”

Jiang Cheng makes a face at that. Nie Huaisang understands, he has his own experiences with stubborn older siblings. Looks like even the Lans aren’t exempt from such universal traits. 

The Jiang Sect Heir makes his way out and Huaisang goes to follow him. Once they reach the door he hesitates.

“What now?” the other boy demands. 

“You go ahead, Jiang-xiong.”

“Why? One of them isn’t enough, you have to upset the sister now?”

Nie Huaisang glares at him. “I should at least apologize for that.”

Jiang Cheng shakes his head at him before walking out, leaving Nie Huaisang alone at the entryway. 

He takes a deep breath, and heads back into the main area where Shuilan is still sitting at the table.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat before proffering an apology.

“I promise I meant no offense-”

“Nie-gongzi,” Shuilan says calmly, gently placing her cup down onto the table. “Kindly shut your mouth.”

Wei Shuilan’s piercing eyes were trained on him and only him, and all he could see was Wei Wuxian. The words she articulated were rude, provocative even, and yet they were spoken as one would gently guide a child through the motions of an unfamiliar exercise. She didn’t ask him to sit back down, so she didn’t mean for this to be a longer interaction. Nie Huaisang was too stunned to speak. 

“Lan Jingyi has told you about my father and his contributions to the sunshot campaign, hasn’t he.” 

The young master could only nod.

“Of what became of Wei Wuxian before he died? Did he tell you how he died?”

She didn’t look at him as she continued to speak. The young master followed her line of vision and felt his throat tighten when it landed on Suibian. Shuilan’s eyes were firmly planted on her father’s sword. Nie Huaisang almost didn’t notice the red dizi placed next to it on the writing desk. 

“They called him a heretic. Him with his demonic flute that could raise the dead to do his bidding. Said that it would’ve been better for him to die an honorable man than to continue to live as he did.”

The young master winced at the harsh words. Shuilan paid him no mind.

“Eventually other people decided that his very existence was an abomination, and that they wouldn’t stand for it anymore. An army’s worth of soldiers met him in the place he carved into his home, and they made sure it stuck. They did more than kill him. They brutalized him, his soul was shattered, and there was nothing of him left to bury.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. Nie Huaisang wondered whether it was from sadness or carefully controlled anger. She took a deep breath before looking up again. He felt his breath catch as he was given clear view of her resigned expression. She stood up and walked right up to him, the closest he’d ever been to her as she’d always been careful to keep a respectful distance with all the young masters. Making her stance clear on how she felt about their presence. 

“Your timeline, whatever you choose to do, whether you find a way to prevent his core from being crushed, whether you save him or not, it’s ultimately nothing to us,” her voice trailed off, becoming distant and it became clear to him that the sentiments she was expressing were as much for herself as they were for him. “Nothing you do will bring our father back; I won’t delude myself. I will neither comfort nor torture myself with what you plan to do and how it will affect him, and neither will my brother. In our reality the sects hunted him like a dog and my father died fighting for his life. So don’t preach to me about saving him.”

Nie Huaisang could not think to voice any response, but he wasn’t expected to. 

“I play the dizi because of my father. I play the same songs he used to cheer us up when we got nightmares, when he wanted to comfort us. The very same flute that struck fear into the hearts of all the other righteous cultivators,” she pauses, letting the weight of her words settle into the air. “Do not speak as if I have never known who he truly was. As if I didn’t know my father’s heart and where it bled between us and the cultivation world.”

Once Wei Shuilan had finished speaking she moved to clear the table, movements quiet and efficient, and when her back was turned Nie Huaisang finally shook himself out of his paralyzed state and swiftly left the Jingshi leaving the young woman alone in her only remaining parent’s house.

Oh , he thought to himself, feeling hysterical.

And oh indeed. When Grandmaster Lan had warned him of the possible demands he’d received from those who couldn’t move on from the past, Nie Huaisang didn’t bat an eye. He hadn’t given any thought to those who made peace with what they have lost, and that he’d be practically spitting in their faces saying that he would make sure that it would never happen in his reality. 

Lan Sizhui running out on them was a kinder reaction than Nie Huaisang deserved when he all but trampled on the peace the boy had made with his father’s passing. To imply that the person he knew his father became was unnecessary and only brought about his own demise. 

He stood there alone on the path. Nie Huaisang let out a shaky breath as he tries to compose himself. 

He looks back on the Jingshi and hardens his resolve. He can’t do anything for his friend’s children now, but he can give them the best chance at a life in his timeline.

—-

When Lan Sizhui was thirteen he received his sword and his courtesy name like all the other young masters his age. The weight of his family’s expectations placed solidly onto his shoulders, as he was being lifted by the pride in his father’s eyes. He promised he'd keep that pride alight, that he would do his duty to his family and his sect, that he would become a strong cultivator that could face any and all hardships that life could throw at him. Years later Lan Sizhui has kept true to his promise and has become the pride of his sect. 

But before all of that, before he’d even known of the Lan who would become his family, he was just A-yuan. He was just a boy. His family had little but they had each other, and they made sure he was cared for. He didn’t have to be anything other than himself, and he was loved. 

But he was no longer that boy. 

Lan Sizhui slows to a stop, and it’s all he can do not to simply collapse onto his knees when he reached his father’s bunny field. He kneels onto the grass, hands shaking as he grips the green beneath him and finally lets the tears fall.

They spoke of demonic cultivation, condemned it for its perversion, for its disrespect of nature. Lan Sizhui curled further into himself as he stifled his sobbing; a long forgotten memory flashing in the back of his mind. The fleeting glimpse of cold, dead hands attached to a body that would never be warm again held him close, cradled him lovingly, always handling him with care. Sizhui would give anything to have him back, gross perversion of nature and all. 

How can he condemn something that gave him more time with his family? How can he condemn it when it gave him his family?

He doesn’t remember much about his time in the Burial Mounds, and what he does remember would never be able to rival his sister’s in terms of clarity. But he knows for certain that his family did not deserve what happened to them. He made peace with that a long time ago, with the Lan Sect’s part in what had happened, with the fact that there is nothing that Sizhui can do to change it. The only path now is forward, and he was at peace with it.

Sizhui laughed pathetically through his tears. Clearly he wasn't as at peace with it as he thought. He thought it was enough that he was helping others through his assignments as a cultivator, that he was helping the Cloud Recesses of all places make some much needed changes in their practices in order to do as much good within the Sect as outside of it. He was happy with the fact that he felt like he could meet his father in the next life with his head held high. 

“Sizhui!”

He looked up and saw Jingyi walking briskly to where he was sat on the grass. Seeing the relieved expression on his friend’s face caused the curl of shame growing in his chest to feel heavier. Sizhui quickly tried to wipe the evidence of his crying as discreetly as possible. He wasn’t very successful if the worry emanating off of Jingyi was any indication.

Jingyi joined him on the ground without another word. They sat there, neither saying a word, and Sizhui began to feel a bit silly. He cleared his throat hoping it didn’t sound as watery as it felt.

“My apolo–”

“I’m so sorry!”

The outburst was so sudden Sizhui stopped crying. 

“...huh?”

Jingyi clapped his hands together as he lowered his head. “I was the one who told them about your Baba. But I only did it because I thought if I answered there questions about him and the Sunshot Campaign they would leave you and Shuilan alone!”

Sizhui almost wanted to start laughing. He knew that already, Jingyi was nowhere near as subtle as he thought he was, doubly so to the people closest to him. 

“And really, Nie-gongzi shouldn’t have been so pushy,” Jingyi groused. “I get that he probably meant well but he was being so judgemental.”

Sizhui huffed a chuckle. “Mn. It would feel very strange to see my father as a youth. He’s right that it wouldn’t really impact anything because he’d have no idea who I was, but that doesn’t feel fair.”

Jingyi bumped his shoulder to his and Sizhui let himself bask in the warmth. 

“Given the way things are going to change, he might never adopt that timeline’s version of me.”

And if that didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest. A reality where he was never Wei Wuxian’s, the Yiling Patriarch’s, son. 

“Shuilan might never exist in their reality,” he whispers to himself. 

For what reason would the Burial Mounds have to make her if Wei Wuxian never falls? A reality where his sister isn’t sister sounds just as bizarre as not being his father’s son. 

“Okay, no more thinking about this. It doesn’t matter what they do, it won’t change anything for us.” Jingyi sits up abruptly. “You know, maybe we should stay out of this completely. We don't know anything significant about the war that people like Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun won’t be able to answer with more detailed insight.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes,” Jingyi stated with conviction. “Let’s go tell them right now.”

He waved his arm out, and it took Sizhui a moment to realize that he was beckoning someone over. Looking over his shoulder he saw the Twin Jades of Lan walking over. He blinks away the last of his tears.

—

“Are you well, Sizhui?” Xiongzhang asks, concern marring his face. 

Wangji awkwardly hovers at Sizhui’s side. His brother doesn’t sit down so he doesn’t either, though he doesn’t really know what to say or do for him. 

Sizhui stands then offers a bow. “My apologies, young masters. My behaviour was unacceptable, please don’t take it personally.”

Lan Jingyi makes a displeased sound, and Wangji agrees.

He reaches forward and gently pulls him up from his stance. He holds the other boy by his shoulders. 

“Do not apologize.”

Sizhui looks at him with wide eyes before laughing. Wangji is thankful that he hadn’t moved his hands yet because the other boy is laughing so hard that he needs to be physically held up.

He shoots a helpless look to his brother who looks amused at his struggle. Lan Jingyi is also of no help as the younger Lan just sends him a beaming smile.

“I’m sorry, gongzi,” Sizhui speaks through his giggles. “It’s just occurred to me, I’ve never been eye level with Hanguang-jun before.”

“...”

Lan Wangji was struck speechless.

Lan Xichen was valiantly trying to stifle his own laughter. 

“Pfft!”

Lan Jingyi had no such care.

“...Mn,” Wangji finally responds, not knowing what else to say. 

Sizhui wiped his eyes, and coughed up the last of his laughter. 

“Sorry, I just didn’t really think about it until now.”

Wangji nodded unsurely, still gripping the boy by his shoulders. This position was becoming increasingly awkward. He let his arms drop and he tried not to fidget in place.

“You’ve never said, but it must be jarring to see us so young,” Lan Xichen says kindly. 

“You have no idea,” Sizhui answers, finally getting a hold of himself.

“Sizhui was really sad when you were ignoring him in the beginning of this whole thing. Shuilan had to tell him to talk to you, otherwise he would have just kept giving sad looks to your back,” Lan Jingyi whispers to him conspiratorially. 

“Jingyi!” Sizhui scolds with red cheeks. 

Wangji could feel his ears heating.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “For making you feel that way. It wasn’t your fault I was uncomfortable.”

“Shuilan said much of the same when she told me to talk to you.”

Sizhui smiled at him, looking much better than he did earlier.

“We should head back. She’s probably worried,” Sizhui suggests. “You’re still welcome to stay the night, young masters, if you would still like to.”

“If you’ll still have us,” Xichen replied.

“Oh!” Lan Jingyi perks up. “Before we forget, we will not be involving ourselves with any further plans you may have.”

The two brothers blinked. 

“And Shuilan will be going home soon, so please tell Nie-gongzi not to bother.”

Sizhui blinked.

“Huh,” he said. “I didn’t consider that.”

“He was looking at her almost the entire rant about Wei Wuxian,” Lan Jingyi explains. 

Sizhui looked thoughtful at that. He turned back to the two of them who still had yet to say anything. “Please try to dissuade Nie-gongzi from speaking to my sister.”

“Of course,” Xichen replied a little wrong footed. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Wangji can’t blame the other two Lans for being skeptical.

“Okay let’s go back,” Lan Jingyi clapped his hands. “Shuilan’s probably kicked them out by now so it should be safe.”

“She’s a very direct young lady,” Xichen comments, offhandedly.

“She gets it from Hanguang-jun,” Sizhui says, shooting him a smile.

Wangji lets himself return it. 

—-

Shuilan found herself alone in the Jingshi once again. 

She wants to go home, back to the sounds of the roosters waking her for the day, to the smell of fresh herbs wafting in from her stores, and the neverending company of people whose kindness she’s eternally grateful for.

She rests her chin on her open palm as she contemplates her next course of action, conversation with Nie Huaisang pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn’t want to spend days hunched over working on another project, with little to no sleep even with the assistance of other cultivators. But she did say earlier that it doesn't have to her that makes it, she could simply pass it off to another. It's a simple concept in theory. You would only have to go off of the things they’ve already made to create a kind of window that would open into the future without anyone physically passing through into that reality. All of the time travel knowledge they’ve gained would just need to be extrapolated and combined with the arrays used for trappings and confinement, or even the mechanics of qiankun pouches for extensions of space to temporarily create a dimensional pocket between realities if projections aren’t an option. She could even write to him directly to give him the suggestions.

She winces when she remembers her brother’s reaction to the mere idea of it.

Okay, maybe not, she thinks to herself. Not that she herself was overly keen on it.

She sits and thinks.

Then thinks a little more. 

It’s just a letter of instruction, though, she reasons as she gets up to take some parchment from the shelf. As she fishes out the materials her eyes catch on a wooden bunny in the corner of the bookshelf. She picks it up, and at the bottom is etched ‘Shui’er’. It’s barely legible, and the craftsmanship was crude at best. It was nothing to be proud of. Hanguang-jun smiled like it was the nicest thing he was ever given when he received it. She misses her A-die. 

Shuilan takes several more sheets of parchment before sitting back down at his writing desk and picking up a brush.

Chapter Text

To Young Master Wei,

My name is Wei Shuilan

My name is Shuilan   Lan 

This one is writing to you because

Who I am is of no importance 

Attached to this note is an incomplete schematic intended to create a way to 

These schematics 

Hello, young master. I’m your daughter from the future that you created through unnatural means, the kind of unnatural that would get you sentenced to death. I’m writing this letter to give you an idea about creating something that will allow us to communicate with each other face-to-face across dimensions, but we can’t use it to see each other because I don’t think I’d be able to look at you without sobbing hysterically and then you’d know you died before you could raise me and my brother, who you don’t know is also your son, to adulthood 

I’m sorry 

I miss you 

you’re not him 

he’s been dead for thirteen years and left me with 

—

“--careful with the dose. Oftentimes increasing the dose of an herb will do more harm than good. It will almost always lead to negative side effects for the patient, and it may not even increase the therapeutic effects of the medicine. Certain herbs are most effective at specific doses and increasing it will do nothing at best. That’s why you–”

“Jie?”

“--have to be mindful when prescribing medication. Even if the patient is asking for more it is your responsibility to inform them of the potential harm they could cause to themself and even after that it would still make you liable if they were to actually come to harm–.”

“A-jie.”

Auntie Qing turned away from her work and huffs impatiently at her younger brother. “What is it, A-ning?”

Uncle Ning awkwardly shifted his eyes to the smaller creature sitting on the table his sister was working on. 

“I don’t think she understands any of that.”

Auntie Qing glared at him.

“Shuilan,” she said. “Why shouldn’t you give people too much medicine?”

Shuilan tilted her head, thinking to herself, before taking a small scrap of fabric from the table. Uncle Ning looked on with no expression, but Auntie Qing knew he’s skeptical. Shuilan put the scrap over her face.

 The fierce corpse nearly jumped back at the loud thump that rang unexpectedly through the air. She laid there, legs dangling off the table with her back on the chipped wood. Her arms askew near her covered head, coupled with the steady rising of her chest missing from the scene made her look like a recently deceased corpse.

Auntie Qing chuckled briefly before taking the cloth off her face and sitting Shuilan back up. 

“Not always so extreme but yes, too much medicine can kill you. So always be mindful of what you give to people who aren’t knowledgeable of how it could hurt them.”

Shuilan nodded solemnly, then went back to her task of ripping old fabrics to use for washcloths. 

Auntie Qing looked back to her brother with furrowed brows.

“Where’s A-yuan?”

“With Granny,” he replied. “He’s down for his afternoon nap.”

“And him? Is he still holed up in his cave?”

Wen Ning didn't say anything but his silence was enough. 

Wei Shuilan hadn’t seen her Baba in three days. 

Gege didn’t seem worried so she thought it was normal but the others were always careful about how they talked about him, so maybe it wasn’t okay. While she spent most of her time with Granny like her gege, whenever her gege got tired and would be put down for a nap Shuilan would go with one of the aunties or uncles and she would help with whatever little task they’d set aside for her. They gave her gege’s toys before but she didn’t like to play with them without her brother, so they decided on simple chores to help refine her motor abilities. When she was with Auntie Qing she would always get a short lesson on herbs.

The way she spoke to her is different from how they spoke to her brother, but Shuilan doesn’t think they like her any less. Granny seemed a little upset when she asked why but Auntie Qing said it was fine because Shuilan could understand her just fine. Shuilan liked having lessons, she liked seeing the little plants drawn in the dirt. There weren’t any plants in the Burial Mounds outside of radishes and bamboo stalks, but she got to see real leaves once after Baba and Uncle Ning came back from nighthunting. They died very quickly. 

Auntie sighed in frustration. “Watch Shuilan, I’m going to check on the idiot.”

She calls Baba that a lot. It’s not very nice but Baba doesn’t seem to mind that much. 

Uncle Ning nodded and Auntie headed out of the hut. 

Shuilan gathered all the fabric scraps into a small pile that she could gather into her arms, and held them out for the fierce corpse to see. 

Uncle Ning huffed what might have been a laugh if his vocal cords weren’t so stiff.

He told her, “Good job.” then patted her on the head.

Shuilan tried to smile the way her brother did when he was told the same.

—

Shuilan did something bad. 

She knows it’s bad because everyone had told her that she shouldn’t run off by herself because she could get hurt or lost. But she isn’t lost, she knows exactly where she’s going. She’s going to the Demon Slaughtering Cave to see her Baba. Auntie Qing came back and said that her Baba was sleeping now but that he still wasn’t feeling well before taking her to the radish fields. 

Shuilan sat by herself on the dirt watching everyone work before she remembered that her Baba said that hugs made him feel better. 

So naturally she had to go hug him so that he would feel better. While everyone was busy tilling the fields and planting seeds she got up and made her way to her Baba’s cave.

She wasn’t going to get lost by herself, she knew exactly where she was going. 

She stopped by the entrance of the cave, watching the wispy red hues fade in and out of the cave.

“Baba?” she called out, only receiving an echo in answer.

Peaking her head in she looked around and only saw the usual smokiness of the Burial Mounds. She stepped inside and walked her short legs further into the cave accompanied by the soft pattering of moisture dripping down the walls. The wisps of resentful energy growing darker and stronger as the whispered to her, leading her to her Baba’s prone form on the ground. 

Rushing forward, though not urgently, she kneeled down by her father’s head. She tapped him on the forehead to see if he would wake up, but he didn’t so much as scrunch his brows. 

“Baba?” she whispered into his ear as she shook his shoulder. 

Eventually he groaned and blinked his eyes awake. She resentful energy around him shifted frantically for a moment as he awoke. Sitting up he stretched his arms forward and used its momentum to keep him from falling over. Shuilan watched him collect himself before he looked down and noticed her. 

“Hello?”

Shuilan looked to him confused but returned his greeting. His eyes were unfocused and he was squinting at her. Maybe he was still waking up. She sat still and waited for him to do something.

Her Baba rubbed his face with one hand and waved at her vaguely with the other. When he got up she followed. They stood there staring at each other before he finally spoke.

“What’s this little corpse doing here?” 

He looked around the cave, as if the answer was hiding in the air and Shuilan frowned.

“Baba,” she said, upset.

He jerked his head back down to her, surprise clear on his face. 

“Baba?” he pointed to himself. 

She nodded, her lips pursed in displeasure. 

“Oh dear,” he said. “You poor thing.”

He picked her up and placed her on the rock he used as a makeshift table before pacing back and forth in front of it. 

“What’s the best way to deal with this?” he muttered to himself. 

Shuilan watched on in silence, at least relieved that her Baba was no longer looking so dead. 

“Baobei can you tell me the last thing you remember before you woke up here?” he smiled kindly at her.

Why, she thought to herself. She shook her head in answer because it was the truth. There was nothing to remember before she woke up in the Burial Mounds.

“Nothing? Do you know if your family is here?”

She nodded her head again, starting to frown as much as she could with her stiff face. He should know that her family is here. Did he forget about everyone?

“Okay I can work with that,” he said. “Do you know where they are?”

She let out a whine as she pointed at him. “Baba. Shuilan’s Baba.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened. “Shuilan? Is that your name?”

The little one nodded again, a little faster than she did before. 

Wei Wuxian winced to himself. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen a child that hasn’t passed. Many homeless children would linger after death, resenting their circumstances and often themselves for dying, but it was the first time he’d been mistaken for the child’s parent. The best thing for him to do now is to put her to rest, though he should see if her parent may be lingering in the Burial Mounds with her so they can pass together.

Playing along, he smiled brightly at the corpse. 

“Okay, Shui’er. Baba needs to check something, so why don’t you lie down on the bed.”

She nodded again and walked over to the pitiful pile of scraps. She laid down and looked to him for further instructions. 

Wei Wuxian felt his heart tighten.

He quickly drew out a talisman to put on the  bell he’d been tinkering with and set it to ring after an incense stick of time. That would be enough time to see if her father had died near her and would likely be lingering nearby.

Once he was properly set up he began to perform empathy.

—

Shuilan didn’t know where she was. 

It was brighter than what she was used to. There was a tall wall in front of her and the further she looked up she noticed the sky looked different. She didn’t know how to describe the difference but she knew it was not the same as it had been just moments before she entered the cave. 

She was lost now, and she didn’t know how she got here. 

She could hear people around her, it was loud and she didn’t like it. She wondered if she had somehow wandered into Yiling. Her brother would sometimes go with their Baba to buy supplies and he would tell her about all of the people he saw. Maybe that’s where she was. 

She got up and walked along the wall to see what else was there. 

There was an abundance of people walking around. It was so bright she felt uncomfortable. The combination of the light and loudness had her backing up into the shadows and ducking down.

Shuilan didn’t know what to do.

She heard a child humming. To her right she saw a little boy drawing in the dirt with a stick.

“Mama, baba, A-ying.”

—

Shuilan knew three things. 

People can’t see her, she can’t touch them, and she can’t talk to them.

That leaves her with very little options on what she can do.

After her realization she continued to watch the little boy, feeling helpless when he started running away from that aggressive group of animals. She watched as that little boy ran to a taller man. He was dressed like the angry man who yelled at her Baba before leaving their home. 

“A-ying? Is your father’s name Wei Changze?”

Wei? Like her and Baba?

“Xiansheng knows my Baba?”

—

Shuilan thought the jiejie with braided buns was nice. Her little brother was mean but he apologized so Shuilan thought he was okay. Her brother was nicer.

—

Shuilan couldn’t stop herself from flinching when the Madam screamed at A-ying. 

She didn’t understand what he did wrong and why she wouldn’t tell him if she was so upset about it. 

When she and gege did something wrong, sometimes Auntie Qing would yell at them but she was always clear about what they should and shouldn’t do. Especially if it was dangerous. 

A-ying was just playing with A-cheng in the water.

She didn’t understand why the nice man from before just stood there while the Madam kept shouting at him.

—

Her Baba was A-ying, or at least had the same name. He had the sword that was kept in the corner of his cave.

—

Shuilan still doesn’t know what’s happening but it was nice to see her Baba smile so much.

—

Shuilan didn’t like these Wens. Her’s were nicer.

—

A scream ripped itself out of her throat when A-cheng wrapped his hands around her Baba’s throat and squeezed.

—

She wrapped her arms around herself while she sat in the corner of her Auntie Qing’s house. Her hands shook.

—

Eyes squeezed shut and hands over her ears, she breathed raggedly as her Baba was cut open. 

—-

Wei Wuxian woke up and looked around confused. 

The little corpse was lying back frozen as if she really was dead, but he knew she was still lingering. 

He took the bell in his hand and scratched his head wondering what went wrong. He placed his hand on her cheek and her eyes flitted to him wildly. She looked less animated than she did earlier. Maybe she remembered something, if only briefly.

He smiled softly at her, “It’s alright Shui’er. I’m going to try again and hopefully this time works.”

He set the talisman to ring the bell after three incense stick’s time.

—

Shuilan wailed as her Baba was thrown into the void. 

—

To Young Master Wei,

If you weren’t already aware, there have been some changes to current plans and the return of your Sect Heirs to your timeline. Young Master Nie has expressed his concerns regarding information that they—the Sect Heirs—have all learned, and has decided that it would be prudent to stay behind and learn as much as they can so that they may avoid certain unwanted things from our timeline’s history. Given this abrupt change it has come to my attention that continuing with letters would be inefficient and it would be easier to conduct discussions face-to-face. Attached to this letter are the beginnings of an idea to create a type of connection between our two timelines, a type of projection into each timeline without physically being sent there. It is nowhere near complete, however, I believe that with your own proficiency you will be able to construct what is needed with little issue. 

In case you were wondering who exactly I am, I’m the one responsible for the previous schematics and talismans you have been using to contact the future. I will be leaving the Cloud Recesses soon and will not be available to assist from this moment forth, so I simply cannot wait for approval to send this letter. 

My apologies for dumping this on you with no warning. I wish you luck in these endeavors. 

—

Wei Wuxian woke up to the sound of a child sobbing.

His first thought was that A-yuan had walked in and thought he was dead again–the reason he is no longer allowed to wander about the cave on his own–and his second thought was that the crying sounded different.

Wei Wuxian bolted up and saw his daughter curled in on herself as she cried herself sick. Without another thought he gathered into his arms trying to soothe her. She clung tightly around his neck and cried even louder. He bounced her up and down in his arms while murmuring assurances.

She’d never cried like this before. She’d never cried at all, he didn’t think she was capable of it. Now that he thought about it her hair felt different. He looked down and ran his fingers through her hair. It was dry, dirty and slightly matted, and it felt more like actual hair than it did the last time he saw her. It was no longer the stiff, spiky, brittle thing that was most similar to Wen Ning’s hair, but more like his and everyone else’s after working in the dirt and not being able to properly wash it.

“Shui’er,” he cooed. “It’s alright, whatever it is, it’s alright. Come on, let Baba look at your face.”

She quieted down but still hiccoughed with tears leaving her eyes. Her face was a wet mess, not quite the same as A-yuan’s red cheeks and snotty nose, but lively enough to be differentiated from their resident fierce corpse.

Well fuck, he thought. 

He looked at her in wonder, still cuddled close allowing him to feel the sharp intakes of air as she sniffled.

She’s breathing. 

—

To Chief Liu,

I should be returning within at least a week and I will inform you if that changes within the next couple of days. There have been some changes to plans previously made, but I will do my best to get out of them. I will resume my responsibilities as soon as I can but I would like to ask you for a favour before that. Could you go through the village records and see if there is anything from before the Sunshot Campaign that survived? I understand if you would rather not, or cannot on principle, and that you’ll require an explanation but I’m afraid that such an explanation would be better in person. I promise that I will answer any questions you have when I return.

I hope everyone is doing well and please remind Shao Honying that they are not to go through my stores without replenishing them before I return.

Sincerely,

Wei Shuilan

—-

Lan Sizhui headed into the Jingshi and was greeted with the sight of his sister, head bowed over several crumpled pieces of paper.

She looks up at the sound of footfalls. Lan Sizhui smiles a little embarrassed, unsure of what to say. He’s ashamed to react so foolishly in front of everyone.

“It’s late,” he says (it wasn’t). “You should finish up your work soon.”

“Will you?” she asks him back. 

He chuckles dryly. “Are you still fine with Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji staying the night?”

She nodded. “I think I’ll retire early tonight, but they’re welcome to stay.”

Lan Sizhui took in the mess of papers scattered haphazardly on Hanguang-jun’s desk.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, I’ll clean up in a moment. Nie Huaisang left me feeling quite frazzled.”

"Pay him no mind," he says stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do."

She smiles up at him sadly.

With one last reassuring squeeze he turns to go invite the young masters in.

“Gege.”

He stops mid step and wills his hands to still at his side. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

He doesn’t turn around.

“It’s almost hai shi. You should get ready for bed.”

“Ge–”

Lan Sizhui walked to the front of the Jingshi to welcome their guests for the night. 

Wei Shuilan wishes her brother goodnight before going to her room, hoping that he’ll let them talk about what happened in the morning.

—-

Hanguang-jun,

There's been a situation. The young masters have had a change of heart and will not be going home as intended as of now. They know about the Sunshot Campaign and wish to learn as much as they can about the Wens and their future plans. They know about Baba, and they said some things about him that have upset both myself and gege. I will be leaving the Cloud Recesses soon as there’s no need to further involve myself, but gege was really shaken and I’m worried about him. I know you’re working on something very important right now, but if you could find some time I ask that you write to him and ask how he’s doing, maybe tell him to step back if he needs to. 

I hope you’re doing well, and please tell Senior Mo hello for me. It’s regretful that we didn’t have much time to share notes, maybe that can be something to look forward to in the future. 

I love you, A-die. Please stay safe. 

—

When they emerged from the cave Wei Shuilan would not let go of her Baba. 

She did not leave his side for as long as she could get away with it.