Archive of Our Own

The night before Wei Wuxian leaves Cloud Recesses, he spends in the circle of Lan Wangji’s arms.

Not in a way that would be improper, although Lan Wangji thinks that, according to his uncle, even just sharing the same bed with someone probably borders on scandalous. There is nothing scandalous about this, though - Wei Wuxian’s head resting where Lan Wangji’s shoulder and chest meet, playing with a strand of Lan Wangji’s hair, his own arms wrapped tightly yet tenderly around Wei Wuxian’s beloved form.

It’s dark in the Jingshi. The candles have been blown out hours ago, and it’s too warm for any brazier to be on, the missing glow of their embers making way for the moonlight, painting the room in silver hues.

Wei Wuxian stirs. Even with his eyes closed, Lan Wangji can feel his gaze on him.

“...Lan Zhan, for someone who’s usually so quiet, you’re thinking awfully loud,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Can’t sleep?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “What about you? You have a long journey ahead. You should rest.”

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “Ah, but you know that I am running on spite alone most of the time. I don’t need that much sleep.”

Then, silence. There’s more both want to say, Lan Wangji can feel it. This feeling has been hanging in the air like a thick fog since the moment they said goodnight, and in a fit of unprecedented and surprising brashness, Lan Wangji had taken Wei Wuxian’s hand as he was about to leave the Jingshi and said: “Stay. Please.”

And Wei Wuxian, lovely, golden Wei Wuxian, had blushed, all shamelessness forgotten, had changed out of his outer robes and slipped into Lan Wangji’s bed, into his arms, without asking questions or commenting on it.

They are still holding each other like that hours later. Nothing else has transpired between them - not because Lan Wangji doesn’t want to.

Because he wants, oh how he wants…

But because he feels like…well. It’s not the right time. Not now. He knows there will be a right time for them; Wei Wuxian has dropped enough hints that he is more than on board with the idea of them taking their relationship a step further, but he knows that Wei Wuxian has some things to do first.

Things he needs to do without Lan Wangji.

“I’m going to miss you,” Wei Wuxian murmurs and Lan Wangji can hear that he means it, how sad it makes him to leave.

Then stay , he thinks but doesn’t say it, for he feels selfish for it. How can he ask Wei Wuxian to stay when he himself is not ready to leave and wander alongside his beloved?

“So will I,” he says instead because it’s the truth. “I wish I could go with you, but -”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian interrupts, and Lan Wangji is hit by just how little he minds the interruption. “With Zewu-Jun still in seclusion and your uncle still clinging so much to the rules of old…I wouldn’t trust anyone else to become Chief Cultivator, but with how much you dislike politics, I’m surprised you took up the mantle.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I’m not looking forward to it, and I’m only doing it because, just like you, I don’t trust anyone else to hold the position. I don’t believe in the title, and I am thinking of using my time as Chief Cultivator to either reform the role, or get rid of it entirely.”

Wei Wuxian sits up a bit at that, balancing himself on one elbow so he can gaze down at Lan Wangji. “Really? How are you planning on doing that?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Lan Wangji admits, “so I might need your advice from time to time. I hope you won’t be too bored when I mention sect business in our correspondence.”

“Lan Zhan, no word you send me could ever be boring,” Wei Wuxian says, and while it sounds like hyperbole, something tells Lan Wangji that he means it.

“I just…” Wei Wuxian shifts again and lays down, resting his head atop Lan Wangji’s chest once more. He sighs.

“I feel bad for leaving you behind,” he says quietly.

“You are not leaving me behind,” Lan Wangji replies. “You will come back.”

“Of course I will,” Wei Wuxian confirms. “I just - I feel a bit - I don’t really know how to describe it. Untethered? Like, one minute I’m starving and half-mad and then I’m dead, and next thing I know I’m alive again and A-Yuan is alive and all grown and you -”

He stops as if to collect his thoughts.

“It’s as if someone has put a bookmark into my life and closed the book and then picked it up years later again to just - continue. The time in which they weren’t reading doesn’t even count, because no time has passed in the story, and - am I even making sense?”

“You are,” Lan Wangji tells him.

“And…I don’t really know what my part in my own story is. Which sounds so dumb because obviously there’s you, but besides that, I feel like I need to just - wander around for a while. Find myself again, you know? Because right now I think I would grow restless and unbearable and very unhappy with myself if I were to stay. And as much as I would love to journey with you, I…I feel like I need to do this on my own.”

Lan Wangji tightens his embrace around Wei Wuxian. “I will admit that I will hate to see you go,” he says, “but I can feel how much you need this. Just be careful. Your core is still weak, and people still remember the tales of the Yiling Patriarch.”

“Ah Lan Zhan, you worry too much.”

“Maybe so,” Lan Wangji says. “Still, whenever you need me, please do not hesitate to let me know. I know that you are clever and capable. but sometimes life can become overwhelming. I will be there for you. Always. No matter what, and I would prefer for you to come home in one piece.”

Wei Wuxian swallows. “Home,” he whispers, then, as if to change the subject. He wriggles a bit and says: “Your bed is so narrow, Lan Zhan.”

And Lan Wangji, foolish, lovesick Lan Wangji, replies: “I will have a wider one built for when you return.”

Wei Wuxian looks up at him, the moonlight reflected in his eyes, and Lan Wangji meets his gaze, and holds it, infusing it with as much warmth as he can. Wei Wuxian reaches for another strand of Lan Wangji’s hair but places his fingertips on his forehead instead, right where the ribbon would sit. Gently, he traces over it, as if he is trying to smooth the forehead ribbon out despite it lying neatly folded on a small table by the washbasin.

Lan Wangji lets him, and Wei Wuxian smiles.

***

In the morning, Lan Wangji gets up first. He carefully extricates himself from Wei Wuxian’s embrace, then bathes and gets dressed before taking a last look at the contents of Wei Wuxian’s qiankun pouch to check if he has packed the essentials, just as Wei Wuxian has asked him to do the previous night. 

If Lan Wangji adds a few things that he thinks Wei Wuxian will need, and maybe even includes a powder blue ribbon that he stores at the bottom of the pouch, no one needs to know.

Wei Wuxian wakes uncharacteristically early, and Lan Wangji calls for breakfast while he gets ready. He takes a quick walk to the stables; Little Apple seems to be in good spirits, the donkey eager to see other landscapes and taste other types of grass once more.

They take their breakfast in silence. Wei Wuxian says goodbye to Lan Qiren, who appears stiff but not unfriendly, and asks for his greetings to be passed on to Lan Xichen. 

Then, they leave Cloud Recesses side by side, for what feels like the last time in a long while. They climb a steep hill, Wei Wuxian chattering about how he will pester Lan Wangji with letters and will be looking forward to reading his replies whenever he is stationary for a while. Lan Wangji tells him that he will read them all, and asks him to be careful once more, and Wei Wuxian promises him to do so.

Atop the hill, they stand with the donkey at their side, looking at each other, not knowing what to say. Lan Wangji fights the urge to plead with him to stay, knowing that Wei Wuxian needs this journey, and that there are things he needs to find for himself that Lan Wangji cannot give him if he stays. 

He has no reason to believe that Wei Wuxian won’t return if he tells him that he will. Wei Wuxian promised he would, so Lan Wangji trusts him. And when that happens, they will both be ready to take the journey together again, wherever it may lead them.

Wei Wuxian is the first one to speak. “I will go this way,” he says, pointing his dizi in the direction opposite of Gusu.

“Then I will go this way,” Lan Wangji replies, looking back at Cloud Recesses.

They start moving at the same time, the distance between them growing. It's a tangible thing, and it takes Lan Wangji much of his strength not to turn, run to Wei Wuxian, and take him in his arms.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian calls out, and Lan Wangji can hear that he isn’t facing his direction. "As long as the sea is bound to wash up on the sand and stars are above you, we will meet again.”

Lan Wangji takes a few more steps, then turns to see Wei Wuxian’s silhouette next to the donkey, waving as he disappears into the distance, taking Lan Wangji’s heart with him.

***

The first letter arrives eight days after Wei Wuxian left. He states in it that he could not wait longer than three days until he had to sit down and pen his first message back to Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji smiles as he reads Wei Wuxian’s words over and over in the privacy of the Jingshi after he’s done with the duties of the day. 

The second letter arrives about a week later, and soon there is a steady stream of correspondence going back and forth between the Jingshi and Wei Wuxian, who tells Lan Wangji about everything he sees and everyone he meets. Sometimes he includes a drawing of a landscape or an animal he believes Lan Wangji might enjoy, pens down a recipe or two of a dish that he would like Lan Wangji to taste, and adds the odd trinket or tea sample to his parcel.

Lan Wangji stores all of it in a wooden box carved with cranes taking flight from a lotus-filled lake that he found in Caiyi. The carving instantly reminded him of Wei Wuxian. A lake for how much the man still loves the water, and birds taking flight in the early morning hours for how he laughs. Lan Wangji opens the box frequently, examines the trinkets, brews the teas, and reviews them in his replies to Wei Wuxian. He rereads the letters almost daily, but most often at night, right before bed, when he misses Wei Wuxian the most. The way he writes is so vivid that on some occasions Lan Wangji catches himself replying out loud to something Wei Wuxian wrote, as if he’s with him in the room. It makes his heart ache.

He keeps a map in the carved box as well, and Lan Wangji marks on it all the locations Wei Wuxian happens to mention in his letters - not only to make sure he knows exactly where he needs to go in case Wei Wuxian needs him, but also so he can keep track of the journey, of the places Wei Wuxian seems to like and to perhaps visit them later alongside him, when he’s done being the Chief Cultivator, and Wei Wuxian has finished his journey. He tells him as much in one of the few replies he is able to send, where Wei Wuxian lingers. Wei Wuxian rarely stays in one place longer than three days at a time, unless he either finds something to do there - work, be it menial or cultivation work - or his body forces him to slow down and take a break.

Many people are still familiar with the stories of the Yiling Patriarch, and while some folks avoid him or even try to chase him away, Wei Wuxian is happy to report that, the further away he travels, the fewer people recognise him, or even care about cultivators at all. They are happy to see one if said cultivator can assist them somehow, and maybe share one or two interesting stories over some liquor by the fire in a tavern, but they’re just as happy when someone with a strong body appears who is willing to help them with their house, field, or other task that doesn’t require a golden core. 

It makes Lan Wangji wonder if Wei Wuxian truly will return.

That is not entirely true. He knows that Wei Wuxian will return to him. He promised, and Lan Wangji has faith in said promise and knows that Wei Wuxian will not break it. With every letter he sends, it becomes clearer that Wei Wuxian sees his future by Lan Wangji’s side and would like to spend it there.

The question is whether Wei Wuxian would like to return to the cultivation world as a cultivator, or if he would rather keep his cultivation low and live a simpler life instead. Lan Wangji would not blame him if that was the path he was to choose for himself, given how much the cultivation world made him suffer throughout both of his lifetimes. Lan Wangji would welcome him with open arms and an open heart all the same, as long as Wei Wuxian is happy and healthy.

He tells him as much in a letter. Lan Wangji can almost hear Wei Wuxian’s laughter in his reply, the musicality of his voice as he says “Lan Zhan, you old sap,” before assuring him that he will keep on working on building Mo Xuanyu’s core up, “just in case, you’ll never know when you’ll need a strong core, and also Lan Zhan, I’ve met some people who taught me a lot of cool cultivation techniques that might help me with building my core back up. I’ve written them all down and bound the pages into a small book for you to read when I get back!”

Wei Wuxian, however, also admits that he’s unsure whether he wishes to continue his life as an active cultivator and sect member. A simpler life suits him well, he says, gives him time to think, and focus on aspects of life that are, in his opinion, far more important than sect politics. A small house, a piece of land to farm on, some kind of body of water nearby, and maybe the odd night hunt here and there to keep him entertained, and Wei Wuxian would be happy, he says.

“We will see what life throws at me, Lan Zhan”, Wei Wuxian writes. “Maybe I’ll become a farmer, maybe I’ll terrorise some disciples as a guest teacher in Cloud Recesses one day. Maybe I’ll even form my own sect, although that seems like a pretty wild concept to me, even as I’m writing it. As long as you are by my side, I will be happy either way.”

The seasons change once, twice, and the correspondence between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian keeps on flowing as unwavering as the flow of time itself. Somewhere along the way, Wei Wuxian develops a talisman that lets them exchange letters and parcels more quickly. He sends one with instructions on how to use it to Lan Wangji, and the letters become a bi-weekly occurrence, a balm to the headaches Lan Wangji often nurses after a particularly tiring day discussing the matters of sect leaders who seem adamant on making his life miserable. Wei Wuxian finds shelter for the winter at a farm in exchange for helping the family with a variety of tasks, and so Lan Wangji can reply to him regularly. He does complain about his work as Chief Cultivator, even though he knows that he brought all of this mess upon himself by accepting the title in the first place, and discusses his plans to dissolve the position. Even with Wei Wuxian so far away, Lan Wangji finds that his support and input are invaluable, further consolidating that he is making the right choices in establishing a better and more balanced way of distributing the power in the Jianghu instead of residing in the hands of one single person.

***

The mountaintops are still capped in white and the first blossoms are already dotting the trees in Caiyi when the letters stop arriving.

At first, Lan Wangji waits. Sometimes, Wei Wuxian needs a bit longer to write. Those periods are usually followed by him describing how he got tangled up in some kind of adventure and was thus unable to compose a letter. Perhaps, this is one of those times.

One week passes, then a second one. By the third week, Lan Wangji writes to Wei Wuxian, asking if he’s well, including instructions on how to send a reply to whoever may find the letter in case Wei Wuxian finds himself unable to respond.

He does get a reply written in an unknown hand, penned by the farmer Wei Wuxian supposedly stayed with. He lets him know that Wei Wuxian left the farm two weeks ago when the snow left their patch of land for good. He explains that he has not heard from Wei Wuxian since. Wei Wuxian took a liking to his grandchildren and promised to write, and he’s worried himself why the young man has not sent word yet. He adds his name, the name of his town and the next large town nearest to his, in case Lan Wangji wishes to come look for Wei Wuxian himself.

Lan Wangji does wish to go look for Wei Wuxian. There is nothing that could keep him in Cloud Recesses while the person who holds his heart is missing. He tells as much to his uncle, who looks at him with mild annoyance but does not object. He leaves a message for his brother who is still in seclusion, then packs a qiankun pouch with spare robes and boots, provisions, and anything he might possibly need.

At the last minute, he grabs the wooden box containing Wei Wuxian’s letters and adds it too. Perhaps they hold a clue as to what might have happened to him which Lan Wangji has not taken note of up until now.

Anything that will help him find Wei Wuxian.

Anything to make sure he’s safe.

He mounts Bichen, his heart full of worry, thankful at least that spring is now in full swing. It will take him a few days to get to his destination by sword, and while he doesn’t think that he will be able to sleep, he intends to rest and meditate during the night so he can make the journey as swiftly and safely as possible.

The discipline and the meditation techniques with which he was brought up, only remotely help calm down his worries. More often than not, he finds his mind wandering to the worst-case scenarios of what might have happened to Wei Wuxian. Has he fallen ill and has trouble recovering due to his still low level of cultivation? Is he injured, and unable to find help? Did some mob, trying to rid the world of the Yiling Patriarch once and for all, get hold of him and -

No , Lan Wangji tells himself firmly. Wei Wuxian is still alive. He can feel it. He’s certain his heart would know if Wei Wuxian had left this world for good.

Still, he cannot help but worry. He knows Wei Wuxian is capable, but Lan Wangji supposes that a part of him will always worry for his beloved.

Bichen is still steady under his feet when Lan Wangji arrives at the last village Wei Wuxian has mentioned in his correspondence. The town is small, but not small enough to be considered a village. There’s a trading road nearby where vendors and merchants as well as other travellers regularly pass through, big enough to bring a certain affluence to the town and provide it with a big bustling market, yet still miles away from the large trading roads mentioned in history books.

The townspeople do give Lan Wangji odd looks. Perhaps cultivators are a rare occurrence in this part of the world, or perhaps it is his robes - more white than blue - and shiny guan that make him stand out more. He briefly wonders whether he should change into something more modest as soon as he gets the chance to, but once the townspeople have their initial look at him, they seem friendly enough. He makes his way to the nearest inn and books a room for a few nights, then asks for directions to the farm Wei Wuxian had been staying in the last time he sent a letter. It’s on the outskirts of town, so Lan Wangji thanks the innkeeper, pays for two nights in advance, and decides to make his way on foot, this time.

It’s a nice warm day with a gentle breeze, and Lan Wangji hopes that a walk will help him clear his head.

He finds the farm quite easily. It’s a nice farmhouse, humble but well-kept, with a large stable flanking it from where Lan Wangji can hear cows mooing and chickens clucking. The buildings are surrounded by a pasture and a sizable vegetable patch. 

Lan Wangji stops to take it all in. It’s a nice property, the result of honest labour, yet it seems warm and welcoming. He instantly knows that Wei Wuxian felt just as welcome here over the winter as he had described it in his letters.

Lan Wangji takes a few steps towards the farmhouse and is about to knock when he feels eyes on his back. Slowly, he lowers his hand and turns, just in time to see a tiny figure hiding behind a nearby tree. He waits until a small head emerges with a giggle - a little girl. She cannot be older than three or four years.

This must be one of the children Wei Ying befriended , Lan Wangji thinks, and he can feel the corners of his mouth lift just a little bit. She reminds him of another child he once met on a busy market street, who attached himself to his leg and was sad to see him go when it was time for him to return home.

Lan Wangji aches with the memory. Lan Sizhui has not returned home yet from his travels with Wen Qionglin, and Lan Wangji suddenly realises:  he has no idea how to tell him about Wei Wuxian going missing.

It’s something he will have to deal with later, he decides. He gives the little girl a small nod in greeting, then turns back to the door, and finally knocks.

The lady of the house is very warm and welcoming. She serves him tea, humble but comforting, and despite Lan Wangji’s polite protests, insists on making him food as well while they wait for her husband and her father to come back from the fields. She balances his meal on a tray on her heavily pregnant belly. The food is heartier than Lan Wangji is used to, but it fills his stomach and gives him energy. 

Two men, one elderly and one only slightly older than the woman, emerge not long after, surprised to see their guest at first. They quickly realise that this must be the man who inquired about Wei Wuxian in his letter. The younger of the two men brings his daughter with him, and the girl proceeds to shyly hide behind her mother, while still peeking at Lan Wangji from time to time. 

They tell him how long Wei Wuxian stayed with them, what he helped them with, and what he did when he was idle. It seems that he had not taken on any cultivator work during his stay, but that he could still be seen practising sword forms and meditating whenever he could. The woman tells him that he looked pained while trying to meditate.

Lan Wangji knows that meditation is nothing that comes easy to Wei Wuxian, his mind too quick and ever-thinking, so to hear that he is still trying hard to maintain a meditation routine fills Lan Wangji’s heart with pride.

He inquires where Wei Wuxian was headed next. They tell him that he wanted to take the main road, passing through town, possibly following the trade roads themselves to see where they would lead to, or going off the beaten path to see what adventures would be waiting there for him. It’s something he wanted to decide spontaneously, so they advise Lan Wangji to ask around town whether someone has seen him and knows in what exact direction he went.

The sun is already hanging low in the sky when Lan Wangji decides to take his leave. He thanks the farmers for their hospitality, then walks back to the inn. There are still people wandering the market, and even though he is loathe to delay his search for Wei Wuxian any longer, Lan Wangji decides that his chances of finding someone in the village who might be able to tell him what happened to Wei Wuxian, are bigger in the morning, when the market stalls open and people flock in to purchase meat and produce when it’s still freshest.

Once back at the inn, he asks for a bath to be prepared for him while he has a last cup of tea for the day. Besides washing off the dirt and dust of travel, Lan Wangji hopes that the bath will be able to calm him a bit. Talking to the farmers was a nice distraction, albeit an exhausting one, and he already dreads having to talk to so many people come morning. Yet he knows that it’s necessary, and he would do it even if it would put his own life in danger.

For Wei Ying.

Always for Wei Ying.

The tea suddenly tastes unbearably bitter, even for him. He retreats to his room, bathes, then changes into night clothes. The ends of his hair are still damp, curling the tiniest bit; he brushes it out methodically, deep in thought.

His reflection in the bronze mirror is bathed in the blue darkness of a moonless night, only illuminated by the warm glow of candles. The sight transports his memory to a quiet night in the Jingshi, equally as dark, with Wei Wuxian’s silhouette beautiful against the falling snow.

I should have told him that I love him, back then , he thinks. He remembers wanting to, but ultimately deciding against it, judging that there was still too much going on in their lives that needed to be solved first before they could allow themselves to be distracted by feelings. Yet, he also remembers that something in the way Wei Wuxian had looked at him that night had assured him that he was not alone in his feelings. That they would find their way to each other, eventually.

Lan Wangji puts his brush away and closes his eyes against a wave of tears threatening to spill. He misses Wei Wuxian, has missed him since he left, but now that Lan Wangji has no idea what happened to him, missing him hurts like a fresh wound in which salt is being rubbed over and over again. Slowly, measured, he inhales, then exhales, before the sadness and worry do not feel as overwhelming anymore.

He climbs into bed, fully prepared to be awake and meditating the whole night, and extinguishes the candles with a flick of his wrist. Then, while his thoughts wander back to Wei Wuxian for a final time that night, sleep decides to claim him, after all.

***

Lan Wangji wakes up surprisingly well-rested. He washes, dresses, has a light breakfast, and inquires about the market. The innkeeper tells him that, since it’s a sunny day, there should be lots of people.

Lan Wangji expects to see as much when he exits the inn. What he doesn’t expect is a flurry of white robes speed walking towards him, a bright “Hanguang Jun!” accompanying the drumming of the young man’s footsteps.

“...Sizhui?” Lan Wangji says as the boy emerges from the crowd, a warm smile on his features. He remembers how the little girl he met the previous day had reminded him of A-Yuan, and for one split second, Lan Wangji wonders if that memory somehow summoned him.

Lan Sizhui comes to a stop, then bows, before smiling back up at Lan Wangji, who mirrors his greeting.

“I was not expecting to see you here,” Lan Sizhui tells him, “but I am so happy to see you are doing well. Are you here on sect business? For a night hunt?”

“I am not,” Lan Wangji replies.”I will explain myself shortly, but how come that you are here?”

“Wen Ning and I have been following the trading route for a bit,” Lan Sizhui tells him, “and we decided to peruse the market today to stock up on food for the road. Wei-qianbei is currently showing Wen Ning around; he really seems to know his way around this place. Is he the reason why you are here? Have you come to visit him?”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks and stares at Lan Sizhui, wondering if he misheard.

“You’ve met Wei Ying?” he asks. It comes out just the tiniest bit too alarmed to be a casual question. Lan Wangji can feel his heartbeat speed up; he hopes that his panic isn’t too visible on his face. “Where is he? Is he well?”

“I - yes,” Lan Sizhui replies. “We met him last night by pure chance. He told us he didn’t know where he wanted to stay the night yet, but that he wanted to hang around for the market so he could get some food for the road too. We ended up setting up camp not too far from here. He was unharmed and seemed in good spirits.”

Lan Wangji exhales loudly, and Lan Sizhui’s face grows worried.

“Hanguang Jun, what’s going on?”

“As I said, I will explain everything to you,” Lan Wangji says, “but please. Can you take me to Wei Ying first? I urgently need to see him.”

“Very well,” Lan Sizhui replies, the concern in his voice only barely hidden. Together, and with a quick step, they weave through the rapidly thickening sea of people looking at the wares of the day. Lan Sizhui cranes his neck to get a better look at the crowd, and Lan Wangji clocks the moment on which his face splits into a blinding smile.

“Wei-qianbei!” he calls. and Lan Wangji watches as two figures clad in dark robes turn towards them. One of them is Wen Qionglin, his face pale and robes drawn up to hide most of the black veins on his neck. Like this, he looks more like a man in poor health, than the fierce corpse that he is.

The other one, smiling, eyes turned into crescent moons, a red ribbon trailing behind him as he turns, is indeed Wei Wuxian - his Wei Ying, happy, healthy, alive.

Lan Wangji feels as if the whole world is exhaling in relief.

“Radish!” Wei Wuxian calls back and waves at them, before he beckons Wen Qionglin to follow him. He runs towards them, his smile growing impossibly wider.

“I’ve found some incredibly good loquats over there,” Wei Wuxian prattles on as he comes to a halt in front of them. “They’re very well-priced too; haggling would be unfair to the poor merchant.”

He then turns to Lan Wangji and bows to him. “Lan-gongzi,” he says.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replies, his voice dripping with fondness.

Wei Wuxian stiffens, then looks between Lan Sizhui, Wen Qionglin, and Lan Wangji.

“I’m sorry,” he says, confused, “my memory is not the best. Have we met before?”

It’s Lan Wangji’s turn to tense up. Wei Wuxian is known for his playful pranks, but his confusion seems honest. He doesn’t know what to say, and his own confusion must show on his face as he helplessly opens his mouth, and then closes it again, the words dying on his tongue before he can speak them.

Wen Qionglin is the first one to talk. 

“You really don’t remember Hanguang Jun?” he asks, cautiously. “You first met him when you attended classes in Cloud Recesses in your youth. I was there too; I remember it well.”

“A-and you became very close over the years. You’ve been frequently writing to Hanguang Jun since you went on your journey,” Lan Sizhui adds. There’s a tremor in his voice.

Wei Wuxian looks at all of them, then simply shakes his head. “I…do not remember,” he says quietly. Too quietly. “I mean I would remember if I’d met someone so handsome, wouldn’t I?” He points at Lan Wangji with his flute, like he always does, and laughs, probably to make everyone else laugh because certainly, this must be a joke, right? Lan Wangji is convinced that this is a joke, there’s no other explanation for it.

No one laughs. Wei Wuxian slowly lowers his dizi again. The smile melts from his face and is replaced by confusion and concern.

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to feel, frankly. Wei Wuxian is here, safe and sound, right in front of him. He could touch him if he was to reach out…but seemingly he has forgotten that Lan Wangji even exists, which seems... odd , to say the least. Especially considering how close they have become recently, and how often they talked about their future together.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t simply forget him.

…would he?

He closes his eyes and chastises himself. Wei Wuxian would never. He’s mischievous, and likes to play tricks, but he’s not cruel. Not with Lan Wangji, at least. Never with Lan Wangji.

Still, for some reason, it becomes hard to breathe, and Lan Wangji’s vision blurs.

“Wei-qianbei,” Lan Sizhui’s voice sounds distant but alarmed. “If this is some kind of joke, I think it would be best to stop with it right now.”

“Oh shit,” Wei Wuxian says as he reaches for Lan Wangji but doesn’t, as if he isn't sure if he’s allowed to touch. Why isn’t he touching Lan Wangji? Wei Wuxian is always allowed to touch him.

“Oh shit, oh no, I didn’t mean to make him cry! I assure you, I’m being serious - I’ve never met the man, at least not that I remember, but you all seem to be very serious as well, so clearly, something isn’t adding up.”

Wen Qionglin, who has been mostly quiet up until now, nods resolutely and steers them out of the main hubbub of the market and into a private little alcove on a side street with a nice shady tree and stone benches to sit on. Once everyone is settled, he produces a waterskin, which he offers to Lan Wangji, who is not sure whether or not he will even be able to swallow but does take a sip nonetheless. 

“So,” Lan Sizhui begins, “what is going on? The last time you wrote to me, Hanguang Jun, you were telling me of Wei-qianbei’s travels.”

Lan Wangji nods. “I…Wei Ying stopped writing at some point,” he explains. It’s a miracle that he manages to keep his voice steady. “I grew worried but waited a bit, thinking that he might just be busy, but…the communication ceased completely. I decided to travel to the last location he mentioned in his letters because I was worried he might be injured.”

Lan Sizhui nods. “I was beginning to wonder why he didn’t ask for your news when we met yesterday but I figured you two were still exchanging letters, and he knows I haven’t been to Cloud Recesses in a while, so I didn’t think much of it.”

“He does remember both of us,” Wen Qionglin says, “as well as my sister and the other members of our family. He also remembers your uncle and your brother.”

“You remember my brother?” Lan Wangji asks. “Lan Xichen?”

Wei Wuxian nods. “I do. I also know that he has a brother, but I didn’t think that I'd ever met him.”

“So…you don’t remember me,” Lan Wangji continues.

Wei Wuxian looks pained but shakes his head again. “Look, I’m really sorry! I’m not sure what’s happening, but I promise I am not messing with you. I do not remember you, but based on your reactions I know I should. Especially since you keep addressing me by my birth name, so we must have been close at some point.”

Lan Wangji winces. “Would you prefer if I were to use your courtesy name instead?”

“No no no no, ‘Wei Ying’ is absolutely fine!” Wei Wuxian is quick to reply. “But what shall I call you? Is ‘Hanguang Jun’ fine?”

This time, Lan Wangji almost flinches. Hearing Wei Wuxian call him “Lan Zhan” has become so second nature that everything else, if not used in a playful manner, seems utterly jarring. He hates it so much. He does reason however that, if Wei Wuxian has lost all memory of him, he might not be comfortable calling him by his birth name.

“You usually call me ‘Lan Zhan’,” he tells him, “but if it would make you more comfortable, ‘Lan Wangji’ is fine.”

Wei Wuxian audibly exhales, as if he has to actively gather his courage to do this.

“Alright,” he says. “Lan Wangji. Lan Zhan. I think I can do this.”

Something within Lan Wangji settles at hearing Wei Wuxian say his name, yet it still doesn’t feel right. Something about it is off. It lacks warmth, he thinks. Wei Wuxian used to say his name more warmly. No one else ever says his name like Wei Wuxian does.

Like Wei Wuxian used to do.

Like he will again, once we find out what is going on , Lan Wangji reminds himself. He wants to curl up in a corner and cry with how panicked this whole situation is making him feel. Wei Wuxian is alive and healthy. There don’t seem to be any apparent injuries, and he is in good spirits. Lan Wangji should be happy that Wei Wuxian is well.

Only that Wei Wuxian has forgotten that Lan Wangji even exists, which breaks Lan Wangji’s heart more than he would ever have anticipated.

“So,” Wei Wuxian begins, effectively snapping Lan Wangji out of his thoughts. “What do we do now? Because either someone has planted memories of me into all of your heads, or someone messed with my memory and willed Lan Wangji from it, and frankly, that seems more likely to me, given the effort it would take to create memories for more than one person and implant them into different people at the same time.”

Lan Sizhui inclines his head. “Do you think you might have been cursed, Wei-qianbei?”

Wei Wuxian taps his nose. “Not sure. If I have been cursed, then I’m not aware of it. I mean I am not the shabbiest cultivator out there, but the core in this body is still being trained, so it might not be able to pick up an array as easily, if it’s a weak one, and if I was distracted.”

“What have you been doing the last few days, and where have you been?” Lan Wangji asks.

“Not much,” Wei Wuxian says. “I’ve spent the winter at a farm not far from here, helping the owners with odd jobs and menial work in exchange for food, shelter, and company.”

Lan Wangji nods. “That’s what you told me in the last letters you have sent me.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “...I don’t remember writing any letters while I was there?”

“I have them with me,” Lan Wangji replies around the lump that has formed in his throat. “You can read them if you’d like.”

“Ah, maybe later,” Wei Wuxian says with an insecure chuckle. “I have a feeling they would confuse me more than anything at this point, and now I’m invested and want to get to the bottom of this. I believe a clear head would be best for this, eh?”

Lan Wangji nods again, and Wei Wuxian continues.

“Right, so at the end of winter, I left the farm. Mind you, the snow stays here for almost as long as it does in the mountains, and before I set out I went and explored the towns and the other villages around here, just to see if there were any odd jobs for me that I could do to earn a bit of pocket money. I still do have enough, and I don’t like to carry too much of it, but it’s better to be prepared, you know? Anyways, I was pondering whether to walk along the main road or to take one of the off-branching paths and was actually ready to leave yesterday, but then I ran into Sizhui and Wen Ning and decided to stay for one more night.”

“Has anything unnatural happened?” Wen Qionglin asks.”Any incident that in hindsight seems suspicious?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “I remember waking up in a patch of forest not too far from here after exploring, and I can’t remember setting up camp there the previous evening. I might have partaken in one or two cups too many of the admittedly fine wine they serve here before I entered that forest, so I figured that I was just - drunk, and passed out.”

Lan Wangji, Lan Sizhui, and Wen Qionglin give each other a look.

“That could be a clue worth investigating,” Lan Wangji confirms. “If you would be willing to lead us back to where you woke up in that patch of forest, we might be able to find out what potentially happened to you.”

“Maybe we should also ask around if there have been other cases reported in which people found out that their memory had been tampered with,” Wen Qionglin suggests.

Lan Sizhui nods. “Lastly, Wei-qianbei, if you would permit us to have a look at your meridians, we might be able to see whether or not there’s some kind of blockage or curse attached to them.”

“Oh. Sure,” Wei Wuxian says, rolls up part of his sleeve, and holds out his arm for them to inspect.

Lan Wangji reaches for it on instinct, then hesitates. He is not sure why; perhaps a part of him is afraid that he will find nothing out of the ordinary. That Wei Wuxian has simply forgotten him, and that he will have to make peace with this fact.

Luckily, Lan Sizhui, his dear boy, spots his hesitation. “If I may,” he says. “Hanguang Jun always tells me that I need more practice with this.” He places two fingers on Wei Wuxian’s pulse point, closes his eyes, and lets a steady stream of glowing blue energy flow into Wei Wuxian’s meridians.

“I can feel your core,” Lan Sizhui says after a while. “It is still being trained and therefore not as strong yet, but it appears very promising. It is whole and unharmed. There is however something blocking your meridians. It does feel like a curse, but it’s weak, so…I’m almost certain it is one, but I would need Hanguang Jun to confirm.”

He opens his eyes, removes his fingers, and looks at Lan Wangji, who directs his gaze at Wei Wuxian. They hold eye contact for a few seconds before Wei Wuxian nods and holds out his arm towards Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian’s arm is a bit paler than usual, probably from the time he has been bundled up in his winter clothes, but it looks stronger than it did when he left Cloud Recesses. He’s still thin but his body is leaner; Lan Wangji thinks that the menial work Wei Wuxian has done during his travels must have helped him build back up some muscle. Besides he’s sure that all of the aunties he’s helped out during the winter months have fed him copious amounts of delicious food.

Good , Lan Wangji thinks. I never wish to see him go hungry again.

Wei Wuxian’s arm feels strong in Lan Wangji’s hand, yet still, he handles it as if it were made out of spun glass. Just like Sizhui before, he tests Wei Wuxian’s meridians with a stream of spiritual energy, and soon he finds what Sizhui described.

“You are correct,” he tells the boy. “There is a curse. It’s not particularly strong, which would explain why not more of Wei Wuxian’s memories were wiped, but it also seems to be…very specific.”

Lan Sizhui frowns. “Do you think it targets Wei-qanbei explicilty?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “No, I think it targets anyone who encounters it but was designed to make them forget certain things for a specific reason. Once we find out what this reason is, we might be able to break the curse and reverse its effects.”

“So asking around town would be a good call,” Wei Wuxian says. “I cannot imagine that I’m the only one here who was ever hit by this.”

“I suggest we fill up our waterskins, have a light lunch to replenish our energy, and then reconvene to start our investigation,” Lan Wangji suggests as he fixes Wei Wuxian’s vambraces. They’re made out of dark brown canvas - more breathable and easier to handle than the leather ones, but still sturdy enough to protect against injuries, even arrows.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat, and Lan Wangji lets go of his arm as if burned. There’s a flush high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks, and Lan Wangji cannot help but marvel at how beautiful the man before him is. He does however realise that he is staring, so he gets up, straightening his robes in the process.

“I am going back to the inn,” Lan Wangji says. “You are welcome to join me. If not, please meet me in front of the inn in about two incense sticks’ time.”

“Yes, Hanguang Jun,” Lan Sizhui replies and bows, then takes Wei Wuxian by the arm, leading him away with Wen Qionglin trailing them. Wei Wuxian looks confused, but Lan Wangji can see Lan Sizhui talking to him, and he knows that his son wants to give him time.

Back at the inn, Lan Wangji orders a small and light meal to be brought up to him before retiring back to his room. Once inside, he leans with his back to the closed door and closes his eyes.

As soon as he feels the cold from the wood seep through the layers of his robes, he cannot hold back his tears any longer. He doesn’t even try to sort his thoughts at this point. He just weeps, silently, in the quiet of his quarters; relieved, heartbroken, and scared at the same time.

Relieved because Wei Wuxian is well. He might be cursed, but he is physically unharmed, his appears as lively as usual, his qi is flowing well given the circumstances. It could be much much worse. Wei Wuxian is alive and well, and Lan Wangji is infinitely grateful for it.

Heartbroken, because Lan Wangji does not know if an outright rejection from Wei Wuxian would have hurt more at this point in their relationship. However, this does somehow feel more cruel, even though he knows that this is just a curse, and that once this curse is broken, all will be well again.

Scared, because - what if it won’t be well? What if the curse can be lifted so Wei Wuxian’s meridians will flow unobstructed, but the damage that has been done to his memory cannot be reversed? Will they remain strangers? Will they be able to build a friendship again?

…will Wei Wuxian love him again?

Wei Wuxian has never told Lan Wangji that he loves him, not with words, but in the last few weeks and days before his departure, Wei Wuxian has very loudly shown him in so many ways that his affections run much deeper than just friendship. Lan Wangji cannot claim to be an expert in the matters of the heart, but he knows how to love, and he knows Wei Wuxian. Surely he cannot be that mistaken.

“I should have told you,” he whispers, more to himself than to anyone else, while tears keep on dripping down the bridge of his nose. “I should have told you how much I love you, Wei Ying.”

Lan Wangji allows himself a few more moments to feel his grief, to let a few more tears fall. Then he straightens and wipes his eyes. There is no use in crying now, he knows, because all is not lost. There is still much they can do to solve this mystery, but he has also learned that sometimes one has to let oneself feel , to not be consumed by feelings.

He’s just finished washing his face in his washbasin when a knock on the door tells him his food is ready. He thanks the innkeeper and eats, even though he doesn’t have much of an appetite. After that, he carries the tray back down on his way out to the street.

The sun is high in the sky as he exits the inn. He spots the three figures waiting for him with ease, one in white and two in dark robes. They turn to him, and Lan Wangji’s breath gets caught in his throat.

Wei Wuxian is smiling at him, hair swaying gently in the wind, backlit by the sun, and framed by the magnolia trees planted in the town square. It reminds Lan Wangji so much of a young Wei Wuxian in front of the Lecture Hall in Cloud Recesses, dressed in the white and purple guest disciple robes of YunmengJiang, the slight pink of the magnolia blossoms matching the colour of Wei Wuxian’s ever-smiling mouth.

Lan Wangji has always thought that Wei Wuxian looks particularly beautiful when framed by magnolias. He can hear Wei Wuxian’s laughter echo in his mind, clear as bells, and he’s overcome by so much longing at the sight that he has to turn away, lest he won’t be able to hold back his tears once more.

He regains his composure, calms his breathing, and then joins Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui, and Wen Qionglin with a sure step. They decide to separate, Wei Wuxian regrouping with Wen Qionglin, and Lan Wangji with Lan Sizhui, to make asking around town for clues quicker and more efficient.

Wen Qionglin gives Lan Sizhui a questioning look but the boy only nods. They agree to meet around You Shi so they can have dinner and compare their findings.

The first few townspeople they ask tell them that they know of nothing supernatural that has happened, but soon enough, people begin to tell them about folks getting lost in the woods. Some were found and returned home; some never returned and disappeared forever. Some were found much later as corpses in the forest, having perished of starvation or dehydration.

“Not everyone knows how to survive in a forest,” one elderly man selling root vegetables tells them, “and not everyone knows how to hunt. Berries alone won’t sustain you for long when you’re lost, and one wrong mushroom and you’re done for, especially when you are lost and panicked and starved for food. Doesn’t make it easy to think straight.”

“Could you kindly point us to some people who got lost but were found and returned home?” Lan Wangji asks. “They might be able to help us in our search.”

The man gives them a list of names and explains how to find those people, then retreats to his stall.

As they make their way towards some of the houses a bit further away from the market, Lan Wangji feels a gentle tug on his sleeve. He turns to see Sizhui holding onto his robe.

“It’s going to be alright, A-Die,” he says, quiet enough for only them to hear it. “I know Baba will remember. There is no life in this universe in which he could forget you for good, I am sure of it.”

Lan Sizhui doesn’t call him “A-Die” often, but when he does, it is usually in the private environment of the Jingshi. It warms his heart every time. For him to do it now means he can sense just how upset Lan Wangji truly is.

“Since when…?” he starts, because he has no recollection of Wei Wuxian allowing Sizhui to address him as “Baba”.

Sizhui lets out a soft chuckle. “Since not too long ago. It happened by accident? Shortly before he left, while you were discussing business with some minor clan leaders. I didn’t pay attention and called him ‘Baba’ because that is how I have come to think of him. I just didn’t have a word for it as a small child since there was no one left for me to call ‘Baba’. I remember he froze, and I thought he was angry, but then he teared up and hugged me and laughed. I don’t do it when others are around, out of respect, but…you both are my parents, after all.”

Lan Wangji can feel his eyes sting. He blinks back a fresh set of tears. 

“And you are our son,” he says, “regardless of blood relations. And Wen Qionglin will always be your uncle.”

“He does love you, you know,” Sizhui says. “Baba, I mean.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I…know. Is it that obvious?”

Sizhui laughs. “One would have to be blind, and even then it would be impossible to miss. Have you…?”

Lan Wangji gives him a look.

“I-I mean, it’s none of my business, but…did you ever outright tell him?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “No. I wanted to wait until his return. I should have told him.”

“You will be able to tell him,” Sizhui says. “We will make things right again.”

Lan Wangji only nods but says nothing. Together they march on and talk to some of the villagers, then, when the sky begins to turn golden, they walk back to the town square and into the inn, where Wei Wuxian and Wen Qionglin have already ordered food and drinks for all of them.

“We talked to a bunch of people.” Wei Wuxian says after swallowing a mouthful of fried chicken doused in spicy red sauce, “and what’s interesting is that all of those who have been returned home say they woke up in the woods with no recollection of where their home was. Not even in an ‘I can picture my house but don’t remember how to get there’ sense, but literally, they did not remember they had a home in the first place, and wouldn’t even have recognised it if they randomly passed by it.”

“No one really knows how they passed out in the woods either,” Wen Qionglin adds. “They couldn’t tell us if they wanted to camp out for the night, or if they were attacked, or simply lost consciousness.”

“That’s what we learned too,” Sizhui agrees after placing his chopsticks onto his empty bowl. Lan Wangji, who is still eating, fishes a piece of bok choy out of his bowl and places it into Wei Wuxian’s while the man is distracted by what Sizhui has to say.

“Most people around here are commoners,” Sizhui continues, “so I doubt they would have been able to pick up on an active array in the area.”

Wei Wuxian hums.”Enough cultivators are passing through here due to the trade route, but not everyone takes the route through the forest. That’s more of a shortcut that the locals use to get from one village to the next, so maybe no one picked up on it until now.”

He picks up some more rice and blinks at the extra piece of bok choy that wasn’t there before, glances over to Lan Wangji, then shrugs and puts it in his mouth.

Lan Wangji, having finished his bowl, also covers it with his chopsticks, then takes a sip of his tea before delicately wiping the corners of his mouth.

“That still does not explain why the curse affected you the way it did.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that,” Wei Wuxian says, taking a swig of liquor. “About home, you know? Like…Lotus Pier is where I grew up. It’s where Shijie was and Jiang Cheng still is and where Jin Ling visits. So part of it will always be where I used to be at home, but after everything that happened…it doesn’t really feel like home anymore. Which - yeah. I’m not exactly sure how to feel about it.”

He too sets down his chopsticks and takes another sip. “Then there’s Yiling. That’s where I lived as a small kiddo, and where I planted a little giggling radish into a patch of dirt.”

He reaches over the table and gently boops Sizhui’s nose. The boy giggles.

“And - don’t get me wrong, we were a family there. You, Wen Ning, Qing-jie, Popo, Uncle Four, and everyone else. We turned that barren wasteland into a home as well as we could, given the circumstances, and we were as happy as we could be, with all the hardship we had to face. But that place doesn’t exist anymore, so…also not an option.”

Wen Qionglin is silent, his face expressionless, and yet Lan Wangji thinks he can see a mix of fond reminiscence and sadness in his eyes.

“And then there’s Cloud Recesses,” Wei Wuxian goes on, and Lan Wangji can feel his own body stiffening up. “I mean, the place is gorgeous , but I remember that it was way too strict for me there when I was a teen. Which might have been because I was somewhat of an arrogant brat back then -”

“You were,” Wen Qionglin says, “but you were also very kind.”

“Rude, Wen Ning, but also: thank you. That being said, the last time I stayed in Cloud Recesses for longer, it did feel much more welcoming. I’m not sure why, with Zewu Jun in seclusion and Old Master Lan still hating my guts, but it felt different. Like a place that could potentially become a home, one day.”

“Uncle will learn to appreciate you,” Lan Wangji tells him. “You might not become best friends, but I am certain he will come around and learn to respect and cherish you for the wonderful human that you are. Even he cannot deny your genius and talent.”

Wei Wuxian is blushing furiously, obviously not prepared to be met with that kind of praise, and shuts his mouth with a click. Before he can say something else, Wen Qionglin asks:

“Isn’t it strange, then, that you forgot Hanguang Jun specifically, and can remember everything about Cloud Recesses?”

“It is,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “It’s a complete mystery.”

It is not , Lan Wangji’s heart screams. It takes all of his willpower not to say it out loud. Shizui’s face confirms that he is thinking the same thing.

“In any case,” Wei Wuxian continues, “I think we should get some rest tonight and investigate the place where I woke up in the woods tomorrow. Maybe we’ll find something there.”

Wen Qionglin gets up and goes to talk to the innkeeper. He comes back after a while, explaining that they do have one room for two left, and if Hanguang Jun would be amenable to sharing, they could have another bedroll brought up to his room.

Lan Wangji is about to suggest that he and Sizhui could share when Wei Wuxian says: “Great! If it’s okay with you, Lan Wangji, could we share? From what I’ve gathered we used to be close and spend a lot of time together. Maybe doing so again will jog my memory a bit?”

The ‘used to be close’ leaves a bitter taste in Lan Wangji’s mouth; nevertheless, he agrees. On one hand, he is terrified of the pain a night spent in the proximity of a Wei Wuxian who treats him like a stranger will bring him. On the other hand, there’s no other place he would rather spend his night at, than close to Wei Wuxian.

So he nods, then suggests a bath be brought up to his room as well, for Wei Wuxian to enjoy while Lan Wangji meditates. Wei Wuxian smiles and says that a bath will do him good.

“I haven’t indulged in one in a while. I’ve washed in streams and rivers, or at cold washbasins, simply because baths are often expensive and I wanted to save the money.”

He then stops in his tracks and looks at Lan Wangji, wide-eyed. “Not that I am expecting you to pay for this one, no no no, of course I will pay for it!”

“No need,” Lan Wangji tells him. “I would have had a bath brought up anyway. You can bathe first. Do you have some clean robes you can change into? Since we will probably be staying here for at least two more days, you might as well get your old ones laundered.”

“Ah Lan Wangji, am I that dusty?” Wei Wuxian chuckles.

“You are,” Lan Wangji replies, and Wei Wuxian laughs. It feels good, he thinks, almost like it used to be, even though things are still strange.

Lan Wangji talks to the innkeeper, and a tub full of steaming water is waiting in his room behind the privacy screen once they retire for the night. He sticks a warming talisman to its side and sits down in front of the mirror while Wei Wuxian undresses behind the screen and gets into the bath.

He takes his time to remove his guan and loosens most of the beeswax and scented oils that keep his usual hairstyle in place with a wide-toothed wooden comb. The warm water will take care of the rest of it, he knows, and while the wax helps him with keeping his hair and its ornaments in place for days at a time, as it is proper, he cannot help but enjoy the relief he feels whenever he gets it all off his head on bath day.

Behind him, Wei Wuxian splashes about as he washes up, complimenting the scent of the soaps provided by the inn, all while complaining about the knots and tangles in his own hair. He soon steps out of the bath, dries off, and wraps himself in a set of clean red underrobes that he will use as sleep clothes as well. 

Lan Wangji beckons him over with a small gesture of his hand, and Wei Wuxian walks up to him, intrigued. He wonders what Wei Wuxian is thinking, seeing him like this - without his shiny guan, his hair sticking up in a variety of directions with the wax loosened but not washed out yet. He must look ridiculous, yet Wei Wuxian doesn’t comment on it.

Lan Wangji hands him a vial of amber glass. Wei Wuxian stares at it.

“Hair oil,” Lan Wangji tells him. “Put a few drops into your palms and run them through the lengths of your hair. It will help with the knots and tangles.”

Wei Wuxian hesitates, then takes it.

“Thank you,” he says. “It’s…camellia oil.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Lan Wangji wonders whether Wei Wuxian remembers what type of oil it is, since he has taken a liking to stealing it from Lan Wangji whenever he takes a bath in Cloud Recesses, or if he’s simply aware that camellia oil is a highly popular hair care product.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji confirms but doesn’t press on. Instead, he rises and steps behind the privacy screen to take his own bath. He can hear Wei Wuxian walk around the room; the man is probably looking at everything he can find, either out of sheer curiosity, or because he believes it might help him remember.

Once Lan Wangji’s skin and hair are clean he exits the bath, dries off, and dons a fresh set of sleep robes. The innkeeper will soon come to collect the bathwater alongside Wei Wuxian’s robes to get them washed in the morning. While he rubs some oil into his own hair, he wonders how the rest of the evening will pass. Will it be awkward? Will there be idle conversation, like it used to be? Will they play music together? Lan Wangji wouldn’t be opposed to playing the guqin until Hai Shi.

A knock on the door takes Lan Wangji out of his thoughts, and a flurry of servants rush in to empty the tub and carry it back out of the room. Wei Wuxian’s robes should be dry by nightfall the following day, they inform him, before they quickly mop the floor until it is dry and install a bedroll where the tub just sat. They then bid both men a good night and take their leave.

When Lan Wangji turns to walk over to his bed, he spots Wei Wuxian sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to his own qiankun pouch, a piece of powder blue ribbon trailing through his fingers.

“This is yours, right?” Wei Wuxian asks quietly.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji replies. There’s no use in denying it, especially since Wei Wuxian has seen him wear blue ribbons all day long.

“We…we are very close,” Wei Wuxian says. It’s something between a question and a statement, and Lan Wangji’s heart constricts.

“Yes,” he replies again. 

Wei Wuxian shifts a bit, adjusting his legs. “I figured,” he tells him. “Not only from the way you reacted when I didn’t recognise you, but also…you know, when you met someone and truly have no recollection of ever having met them? It sometimes does happen, and usually, it really does feel as if it’s the first time that you meet them There simply is no memory, no trace of it. But with you…”

He fidgets with the ribbon. “I look at you, and it feels like there should be something. Like there are memories, but for some reason, I cannot reach them. I don’t like it. I want to remember, not only because those are my memories, and I want them back, but also because it pains me to see you so sad.”

Lan Wangji exhales, then kneels on the floor next to Wei Wuxian. Gingerly he reaches over and takes the other man’s hand, just like he got used to doing during the last few weeks they shared before Wei Wuxian embarked on his journey.

“I am sad,” Lan Wangji confirms, “and I am afraid. Wen Qionglin was right when he told you that we met in our youth. We…did not have the best start, but with time, we learned to read and appreciate each other. If you remember everything that happened in your life, then…”

He swallows. “You mean so much to me, Wei Ying. I do not wish to overwhelm you at this point, but…I’ve lost you once. I could not bear losing you a second time.”

Wei Wuxian keeps his gaze fixed on their joined hands. Lan Wangji wonders whether he can feel the subtle tremor in his fingers. For the longest time, he remains silent; then, he squeezes Lan Wangji’s hand and looks up at him, a shy but genuine smile on his face.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “From my perspective, I’ve only known you for less than a full day, but I like you a lot already. You’re really interesting, and I think we could be great friends, so…if this fails and I won’t get my memories back - which I doubt - I could come to visit after my travels, and we could properly get to know each other again. Would that…would that be alright?”

Lan Wangji swallows. While he does want Wei Wuxian back the way he was before he went on his journey, this is more than he could wish for. If this fails, Wei Wuxian will still be in his life, by his side, as a friend.

So Lan Wangji nods.

“I am sorry,” Wei Wuxian offers softly. “I wish I could make things better right now.”

“Do not be sorry,” Lan Wangji says. “You did not get cursed on purpose. The fact that you are alive and well is already giving me peace.”

Wei Wuxian smiles at him again. They sit in complete silence, their hands still joined, only looking at each other.

Wei Wuxian looks so soft, with his hair down, curling at the ends where it is still damp. The red underrobe doesn’t look as scandalous to Lan Wangji as it once used to; instead, it makes Wei Wuxian appear warm.

Lan Wangji wants to hold him close, to inhale the scent of his hair.

To kiss him.

He does not move.

At one point, Wei Wuxian yawns, then laughs. “I must be getting old,” he jokes. “Aren’t you Lans the ones who usually go to bed early?”

“We are,” Lan Wangji confirms, “but today was stressful for you. Sleeping early might be a good idea if we wish to investigate further in the morning.”

“Right. So I guess this bedroll is mine, then.”

Lan Wangji opens his mouth to protest, but Wei Wuxian shushes him. “This is your room. You’re paying for it, so you take the bed! I’m sure that’s how we’ve always been doing things in the past.”

“Actually it isn’t,” Lan Wangji says without thinking.

Wei Wuxian gives him a look. “Oh?”

Lan Wangji can feel his ears getting hot. “It…depended on the circumstances. If we were to camp out, each of us had his own bedroll. In inns we would usually share a room because we liked to discuss the details of the journey until we went to sleep. Sometimes we had two beds…sometimes, if there was only a room with one bed left, we would share. In some cases we also shared when it was particularly cold.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian says again, and blushes. “I - I mean, if you would like to share, then -”

“Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable,” Lan Wangji replies. “We do not have to share, but you have been on the road for a while, while I have travelled by sword and have enjoyed a bed in an inn on my way here. I believe your body would benefit from a night in a proper bed, and I would not mind taking the bedroll.”

Wei Wuxian looks like he wants to protest, then sighs. “You’re making an awful lot of sense. I don’t like it.”

“Get used to it,” Lan Wangji quips, startling Wei Wuxian into a chuckle.

“Alright alright, I’ll take the bed,” Wei Wuxian relents, still smiling. “You’re a menace.”

“So I’ve been told,” Lan Wangji tells him and cannot help a small smile. This feels - interesting. Lan Wangji’s heart is still heavy, but somehow, this feels like the start of something new, that could turn into something deep and meaningful, in time.

They both take off their shoes. Wei Wuxian climbs into bed and bundles himself up under the covers until only his head peeks out, while Lan Wangji lays down on the bedroll. With one flick of his hand, Lan Wangji extinguishes the candles.

“Good night, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian whispers. “See you tomorrow.”

Lan Wangji looks over to the bed and smiles once again.

“Good night, Wei Ying. See you tomorrow.”

***

Morning comes soon enough, and if Lan Wangji takes a few moments to gaze at Wei Wuxian’s sleep-soft face before he wakes him for breakfast, that is his secret to keep.

Wei Wuxian blinks, yawns, stretches, then fully opens his eyes and looks at Lan Wangji with a soft warm smile, and for a few moments, the world is as it should be.

Then, Wei Wuxian sits up, rubs his eyes, and says: “Good morning, Lan Wangji,” and the day gets a little colder.

“Good morning, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replies. “You should get ready; Sizhui and Wen Qionglin will be joining us shortly for breakfast.”

It takes a while for Wei Wuxian to get out of bed, washed, and dressed. Lan Wangji observes him in quiet fondness. He doesn’t think that the man will ever become a morning person.

Oh, how this would have bothered him in his youth. Now, it is one of his greatest joys - to take a few moments after he wakes up to simply look at the one he loves, peaceful, unguarded, safe.

He hopes that he will be allowed to do so once more, even if it will be in the context of friendship.

True to their word, Lan Sizhui and Wen Qionglin are already seated at a table in the inn’s main room, laden with a variety of breakfast foods. Lan Wangji delights in watching Wei Wuxian fully wake up as he eats. He likes to compare it to a flower’s blossom opening to its full beauty when touched by the morning sun.

“So, what’s the plan?” Wei Wuxian asks after they’ve finished eating.

“You will lead us to the spot in the forest where you woke up,” Sizhui says. “Since people have reported entering the woods at various times during the day and the night, it doesn’t seem like we’ll have to wait until nightfall to confront whatever this is.”

Wen Qionglin nods. “If it is a ghost, we might have to come back during nighttime though. Many of them are more active after dark.”

“You and Hanguang Jun are more experienced than I am,” Sizhui adds, “and we cannot tell how a spirit or ghost would react when being confronted by Ning-shushu, so we suggest that you will look for whatever is in the woods and, if necessary, take care of it, while Wen Ning and I make sure that none of the villagers get caught in the investigation.”

Lan Wangji exchanges a look with Wei Wuxian, who nods.

“Very well,” Lan Wangji says, “but be ready to come to our aid should we call for you.”

“Always, Hanguang Jun,” Shizui replies. 

They ask for their waterskins to be filled; even if inedia is always an option, Lan Wangji feels like a fresh drink of water is never a bad idea, especially with Wei Wuxian’s core still being this weak.

It’s a beautiful day; the town’s square is bustling with people getting ready to work in their gardens or on the fields. Some market stalls are open, but most of them remain closed, only opening on certain days of the week. Even the forest is beautiful when they enter it, with sunlight filtering through the leaves and birdsong accompanying their steps.

Wen Qionglin and Sizhui stay on the outskirts of the forest to distract villagers from entering, while Lan Wangji follows Wei Wuxian deeper into the woods. Soon, the trees begin to part, and a clearing becomes visible.

“It’s over there,” Wei Wuxian says and points his dizi in the direction of the clearing.

Before he can take another step though, Lan Wangji stops him with a hand gently placed onto his shoulders.

“Wait,” he says quietly. “Focus. Do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian looks at him, surprised, but then he closes his eyes in concentration. After a while, he opens them again.

“There is something, but I can barely detect it. Very easy to miss if you’re either a commoner, or distracted.”

“Or drunk,” Lan Wangji adds.

Wei Wuxian grimaces. “Or drunk, yeah. I should know better than to enter an unknown forest with too much alcohol in my system. So, what do you think it is?”

Lan Wangji focuses more on what he is sensing. “It is some sort of array,” he says. “Not strong enough to seriously harm someone, but still powerful enough to knock someone unconscious in an instant.”

He points two fingers at the ground before him, directs a short burst of spiritual energy towards it, and the array lights up.

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian goes. “It’s smaller than I would have thought. “Do you think you could break it?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji says, “rather easily, even. I am more concerned about what will happen if I do.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine whatever created and powers that thing is still lurking around in the area.”

He taps his nose in thought. “Aren’t you Lans famous for talking to spirits?”

“Only if it’s a spirit of a deceased one,” Lan Wangji tells him, “but I could try to establish a contact so we can narrow down what entity we are dealing with.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Wei Wuxian agrees, and watches as Lan Wangji sits down on the ground and summons his guqin.

Wei Wuxian has observed Lan Wangji playing Inquiry multiple times. Each time he was fascinated by it, but from Wei Wuxian’s perspective, this is the first time he does so. He crouches down next to Lan Wangji, close enough to watch his every move, but not so close as to hinder him.

“...would you like me to explain what I am doing?” Lan Wangji says. “You have seen me do this on multiple occasions, but you might not remember, and I am not sure if you have ever seen Sizhui do it.”

“I did see him do it to question the spirit of Song Lan, but I never really asked what exactly he was doing. Or. If I knew, I…don’t remember? Which is odd, since I feel like I knew what he was doing back then.”

Lan Wangji hums. “It might be because I was the one who explained it to you. The qin language allows me to communicate with the spirits of the deceased and the nearly deceased via playing certain melodies. If one masters this language and is strong enough in their cultivation, a spirit will be forced to reply and unable to lie.”

“Oh wow,” Wei Wuxian says, “that must take a lot of practice.”

“It does. One must practice at least a thousand times. I will ask who they are, and if we get a reply at all, we will know that it’s the spirit of a deceased one. If not, we will have to change our strategy. “

“And if they reply, we might be able to argue with them, or even subdue them. Then we can destroy the array without any danger of being attacked. Let’s try it.”

Lan Wangji nods, tunes his guqin, and focuses. While he is a master at using Inquiry, he never underestimates how physically and mentally taxing it can be.

“I will pose my first question a couple of times,” Lan Wangji explains. “Sometimes spirits need to figure out first how they can reply. If there still isn’t a reply after the third time, we are not dealing with a spirit.”

He then sets his fingers on the strings and plays the first notes of Inquiry.

Who are you?

Nothing happens.

Lan Wangji waits for a bit, then he tries a second time.

Who are you?

Then, very tentatively, as if testing out the strings of the guqin, someone or something, plucks out a few notes on the instrument.

Wei Wuxian straightens, eyes fixed on the guqin. “What are they saying?” he asks.

“Their name,” Lan Wangji explains. “Li Meiying. A young woman.”

Who killed you? Lan Wangji asks next, and the reply comes promptly.

“Apparently no one killed her,” Lan Wangji says. “It looks like she died in these woods, but it wasn’t a crime.”

Wei Wuxian inclines his head. “So…why the array?”

Lan Wangji plays on. “She died of dehydration and starvation….she fell, injured her head, and forgot her home.”

Wei Wuxian squints in thought, then seems to realise something.

“Oooh, is that why she made the array? To trap other people here so they forget their homes too and stay with her? Because she was so lonely while she was passing, and is still lonely now?”

Lan Wangji gives him a small nod and keeps on playing. “It seems that you are right. The spirit is lonely, so she tries to trap other people in order to keep her company. It’s not an inherently malicious intent.”

“Hmmmm, is there any way we can help her? I mean if that’s all she does and won’t attack us…maybe there is a way to make this array unnecessary for her.”

The guqin rings on a few more times as Lan Wangji plays and the spirit replies.

“If we can help her get home, she will be at peace,” Lan Wangji says. “We will have to locate her corpse and bring it back to her family for a proper burial.”

“What if there is no family left? Will a burial with some of the townspeople suffice, so that she isn’t forgotten?”

Lan Wangji plucks the guqin strings, then waits for a reply.

“...yes,” he finally says. “She also mentions a spring; I assume that she is referring to the spot at which she passed.”

“Oh, I know where that is!” Wei Wuxian exclaims. “I did fill my waterskin at it not too long ago! Didn’t see any corpses, but I wasn’t looking for one either.”

Lan Wangji plays a few last notes in thanks, then spirits his guqin back into his qiankun pouch.

“I suggest we locate the corpse, bring it back to the village, and either find her family, or hold a burial with some of the villagers to pay respects. After that we will return here and talk to Li Meiying once more.”

He rises and holds out a hand for Wei Wuxian to take to help him up.

“Yeah, and then we’ll go from there,” Wei Wuxian says as he rises too, but doesn’t immediately let go of Lan Wangji’s hand.

“And then, hopefully all of my memories will be back, but even - even if they don’t…remember what I told you last night?”

Lan Wangji says nothing. Instead, he runs his thumb across Wei Wuxin’s knuckles. He knows he shouldn’t, but he cannot help it.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “I will make sure to stop by Cloud Recesses and pester you so often you will be happy to see me go again!”

“Never,” Lan Wangji says. and means it. “You will always be welcome to stay for as long as you wish.”

“Lan Zhaaaaaan,” Wei Wuxian whines, and Lan Wangji wonders if he’s even aware that he just used his birth name. “You are far too honest sometimes; how is my heart supposed to take it?”

“Wei Ying is nothing but resilient,” Lan Wangji tells him with a small smile. Wei Wuxian laughs, then lets go of his hand. Lan Wangji misses the warmth of his fingers instantly.

“Let’s go then, we have a corpse to find,” Wei Wuxian reminds him and walks off to lead the way.

The spring in question flows out between two moss-covered rocks. Its water is crystal clear and ice cold, the area surrounding it lush with big green ferns and berry bushes and other shrubs. They rummage through the foliage for a while until Wei Wuxian exclaims “Here!”

The corpse they find is nothing but a skeleton, the clothes rotted away in some places, yet there is still enough of the fabric left to wrap up the remains for transportation. Around the wrist, there is a knotted bracelet with a small jade disc. Lan Wangji removes it and hands it to Wei Wuxian before wrapping the body, then lifting it up to carry it.

“When we get back to Sizhui, give him the bracelet, and tell him to return to the village to ask for Li Meiying’s family. If he finds any living relatives, he can show them the bracelet and see if they recognise it. If there are no relatives left, we will talk to the village elders to organise a public funeral.”

When they reach Wen Qionglin and Sizhui, both are eager to learn what happened. Wei Wuxian seems very amused by the speed with which Sizhui runs back to the village as he, Lan Wangji and Wen Qionglin walk on at normal pace.

“No running in Cloud Recesses, but once we’re out of it? The kid’s kicking up some dust!” Wei Wuxian jokes.

“He is eager to get this case solved,” Wen Qionglin says. “So am I; it would be a shame if more people were to lose their memories to this array. Besides, as pleasant as it is to spend time with both of you, we would like to continue our travels for a bit longer.”

“Oh yeah, I said I would come with you for a bit still,” Wei Wuxian says, before he stops and looks at Lan Wangji.

“I - I mean, when all of this is resolved…I did promise to accompany them for a while. Would this still be okay?”

“You are free to go wherever you please,” Lan Wangji replies. “You had planned on being on your journey for a while. The fact that you might regain your memories of me doesn’t change anything. If you promised it to Sizhui and Wen Qionglin, then you should keep it.”

“Alright,” Wei Wuxian says, holding up his signature three finger salute,, “but I will write to you as soon as I can, and make sure not to step into any rogue arrays on my way to visit you!”

Wen Qionglin glances over at Lan Wangji but remains silent. Lan Wangji himself doesn’t speak anymore, until they reach the edge of the village and see Lan Sizhui waiting for them, an elderly couple in tow.

“Hanguang Jun, Wei-qianbei, Ning-shushu, these are Li Meiying’s parents,” Lan Sizhui explains. “They say she disappeared almost twelve years ago, shortly before she was meant to be married. Her brother and her uncle are already making preparations for burial.”

“We are sorry for your loss,” Wei Wuxian says after bowing, “and we are sorry that the funeral rites have to be rushed, but unfortunately it is a pressing matter.”

“It’s alright,” Li Meiying’s mother says, her eyes red-rimmed. “We are saddened by what happened to her, but we are also happy to have her returned to us. Can I…?”

She turns to Lan Wangji, a question on her face.

He takes a step forward so she can look at the bundle in his arms. The woman doesn’t part the fabric to look at the remains; instead, she puts her head on the covered skull, as if to run her fingers through her daughter’s hair as a final farewell.

“I recognise her clothes,” she says. “Some of the patterns are still intact. I sewed them myself. “

She then turns away, leans into her husband, and weeps.

They wait until the woman composes herself, then they walk back to the place the family has picked for Li Meiying’s final resting place. There are about a dozen people gathered; this town is on the larger side, but since the community is still tightly knit, Lan Wangji assumes that word travels fast. The people gathered have brought food and flowers. Incense has been lit.

Lan Wangji hands the wrapped body over to her father, then he, Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui and Wen Qionglin step aside to let the family hold the ceremony in peace. Once they are done, the parents walk over to them to thank them, offering monetary compensation for their trouble.

“No need,” Lan Wangji says, and Wei Wuxian agrees. “We are glad that we could help.”

After that, they return to the clearing, where Lan Wangji plays Inquiry once more to talk to Li Meiying one last time.

“She’s at peace,” Lan Wangji finally says. “There’s no need for the array anymore.”

“Good,” Wei Wuxian replies. “Do you need my help to destroy it?”

“I don’t think so, but I will tell you if I do.”

The array ends up being a bit more stubborn than anticipated. Lan Wangji is sure he could have managed it on his own, but Wei Wuxian clocks the moment he starts to struggle just the tiniest bit. Even though his core doesn’t let him use that much spiritual energy, Wei Wuxian helping is enough to destroy the array once and for all.

“That should solve it,” Wei Wuxian says, panting.

“How are you feeling?” Lan Wangji asks, worried. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Is it?” Wei Wuxian wipes at his nose, then looks at the smeared bloodstain on his hand. “I feel fine. No headache, nothing. I’m a bit tired, but besides that I’m good. Could it be a side effect of the curse breaking?”

Lan Wangji hums. “Possibly. I suggest we get back to the inn, freshen up, and rest for a bit, before we have dinner.”

“How is it afternoon already?” Wei Wuxian asks as he yawns and stretches. “I feel as if I just got out of bed.”

“I suppose time passes quickly when one is busy,” Lan Wangji offers. They reconvene with Lan Sizhui and Wen Qionglin, then walk back to the inn.

None of them talk. Lan Wangji wonders if they are too tired, or too nervous to ask the question they all want an answer to.

Lan Wangji knows that he’s too afraid to ask it right now, too scared of how he would react if the curse was not broken.

As soon as they are back in their room however, he cannot take it anymore. He turns to Wei Wuxian, unable to say anything, and just looks at him.

Everything that he would like to know must be written on his face, because Wei Wuxian concentrates as if he’s trying to remember, and…shakes his head.

Lan Wangji feels like fainting. A small part of him has been preparing for this possibility, but having it actually happen knocks the wind out of his lungs.

Wei Wuxian rushes over to him, grabs him by the shoulders and makes him sit down on the bed.

“Lan Zhan, I am sorry,” he  cries. “I don’t understand! We did everything we could; the curse should have lifted! Maybe it needs a bit more time to fully dissipate, and everything will be fine in the morning? I just - oh I hate this. Please don’t cry, Lan Zhan, please!”

Only now does Lan Wangji notice the tears that have started rolling down his cheeks. He lifts his arm and wipes them away.

“Apologies,” he says. “I just -”

“Don’t apologise,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “I get it, really, I do. I want my memories back, and it must be even harder for you, because you still have them. And I hate to see you like this. I never want to see you unhappy.”

Wei Wuxian lifts his hand to wipe away another stray tear, and Lan Wangji leans into the touch like a starved man who was just offered fresh food.

“Wei Ying,” he says, and for some reason that is enough to make the floodgates open for good.

Wei Wuxian takes him into his arms and holds him while he weeps, running his hand soothingly in circles across his back. At one point Lan Wangji realises that Wei Wuxian’s body is trembling, and he looks up to see him cry too.

“I’m so sorry,” Wei Wuxian keeps on whispering, “so sorry.”

They rest their foreheads together and just sit like that, silently crying while holding on to each other, mourning the memories that appear to be lost forever, and a future that now seems to be further away than it ever was.

When the tears stop flowing, they still remain silent, holding on to each other until it is time for dinner. They quickly wash their faces and join Lan Sizhui and Wen Qionglin for the last meal of the day.

Sizhui looks at both of them with an expectant gaze, but one look at Lan Wangji’s eyes is enough for his face to fall.

“Did we miss something?” he asks with a small voice.

“Not sure,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “Maybe the curse just needs a bit longer to lift. Right now, no one likes what’s happening. I am sorry.”

Sizhui shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s…no one’s fault, I guess. Will you still come with us tomorrow?”

“I promised, didn’t I?” Wei Wuxian asks. “And I am a man of my word. Now let’s eat; we could all use the energy.”

None of them eat much. Once they are done, they split up for the night, and Lan Wangji watches as Wen Qionglin puts a sympathetic hand on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, then looks at Lan Wangji and gives him an equally sympathetic nod.

Lan Wangji asks for another bath to be brought up. This time, neither of them wash their hair, and they clean up in silence taking turns using the bath. Wei Wuxian gets his now clean robes delivered, and he packs them in his qiankun pouch.

After he is dry, clean and dressed, Lan Wangji sits down and summons his guqin once more. He needs to distract himself, lest he will cry again, and he desperately does not want to. He doesn’t know when Wei Wuxian will return to Cloud Recesses, or if he ever will, even if Wei Wuxian reassures him that he will, and he does not want to spend the last night he has with him weeping his eyes out.

So he plays for a while, mostly songs popular in Gusu that come easy to him and don’t require much thought. 

There is one song he does not play. He doesn’t think he could without breaking down.

Wei Wuxian listens to him all the same.

“You play so beautifully,” he says. “Maybe we can play together when I’m done travelling and have acquired a better flute?”

“I would love that,” Lan Wangji replies. Soon though he grows tired and stores his guqin away again.

“Would it be alright if I retire to bed?” he asks. “My eyes are growing heavy.”

“Yeah, I won’t be up for much longer too,” Wei Wuxian says. “I wanna be in good shape if I am to run around with A-Yuan and Wen Ning all day long. They can set a quite demanding pace if they want to. But you take the bed tonight, I insist! You worked harder than me today, you deserve your rest.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with him, this time around. Just like the previous night, he extinguishes the candles with a burst of spiritual energy once they are both settled for the night. 

He falls asleep before he can say goodnight to Wei Wuxian.

Hours later, he wakes up to a still dark room. There’s a light source illuminating the part of the room farthest away from him; it takes him a second to realise that it’s a lit candle.

“Wei Ying?” he calls, voice hoarse from sleep, as he spots the man sitting at a low table.

“Lan Zhan,” he replies. “Did I wake you? I just needed to write some things down to get them out of my head. Couldn’t sleep because of them. I’ll be done in a moment.”

“Alright,” Lan Wangji murmurs, sleep claiming him again already. “Come to bed when you’re finished.”

He can hear Wei Wuxian chuckle and say “If you insist, Lan Zhan”. Then, a bit later, there’s a weight dipping the mattress. He cracks open an eye to see Wei Wuxian settling in next to him.

“Is…is this alright?” he asks, surprisingly shy. “You said to come to bed, so…”

Lan Wangji doesn’t reply. He just envelops Wei Wuxian in an embrace and holds him close. He will allow himself this small indulgence, only this once.

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “I guess that's my answer. Sleep well, Lan Zhan. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Lan Wangji mumbles before he slips back into sleep for good.

***

They wake up roughly at the same time. They don’t say anything, only look at each other as the light in the room turns from blue to golden with the rising sun.

Lan Wangji will never get tired of seeing Wei Wuxian when he wakes up in the morning. He’s trying to commit as much of this moment as he can to memory and keep it safe for the rest of his life.

“Good morning,” Wei Wuxian says and smiles, but something in the way he looks at him lets Lan Wangji know that nothing about Wei Wuxian’s situation has changed during the night.

“Good morning,” Lan Wangji replies. His voice must betray his heartbreak, for Wei Wuxian leans forward and touches their foreheads together.

“Don’t be sad,” he says. “I promise I will come back to you. Just you wait.”

“I will wait patiently, for I know it will be worth it,” Lan Wangji tells him. Despite his grief, he means it.

They do have breakfast with Sizhui and Wen Qionglin, pay the innkeeper, then leave in the direction of the edge of the forest.

“We are planning on following the trade route for a bit,” Sizhui explains, “then go from there. I am not sure when I will return, but I think I will still need a bit more time. Will you be alright?”

Lan Wangji nods. “I will be fine. I should return to my duties soon; I have a feeling I will be sorely missed despite only being gone for three days. Some people are not happy with me for wanting to dismantle the Chief Cultivator position, and I still have quite a bit of work ahead of me, but there are also many parties willing to support my decision, and I should not let them wait for too long. Just be careful out there, both of you.”

“We will be,” Sizhui promises. “We’ll also keep an eye on Wei-qanbei as long as he’s with us so he won’t get into too much trouble.”

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian exclaims, but there’s no heat behind it. He then reaches into his robes and produces a letter, which he hands over to Lan Wangji.

“I hope you will forgive me for this,” he tells him. “Please refrain from reading it until you’re back in Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Wangji looks at the letter, puzzled. “Wei Ying…?”

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Wei Wuxian assures him. “Please trust me on this one.”

“...Alright,” Lan Wangji says, then stores the letter between the folds of his own robes.

Saying goodbye the first time was hard; this time, Lan Wangji feels like his heart is being ripped to pieces. 

All he wants to do is to run after Wei Wuxian, to call out to him, take him in his arms, and never let him go. And maybe, if things were still like they were the first time Wei Wuxian left, he would have done so.

But things are not like that anymore.

So he decides to trust Wei Wuxian and give him space, like he did a few months prior when he watched him leave the mountains with nothing but a donkey by his side. Now, the donkey is still there, but there’s also Sizhui, his son, their son, and Wen Qionglin, a friend almost as dear as family to him.

Lan Wangji watches them leave until he cannot see them anymore. Only then does he unsheath Bichen and start his own trip back to Cloud Recesses. He decides to make the journey without stopping for the night. His cultivation is high enough that he manages just fine, but he can feel the exhaustion settling in his bones when the Gusu mountains finally come into view.

His uncle seems happy to see him, even if he appears a bit miffed when Lan Wangji requests to postpone any talks to the following day. He passes by his brother’s quarters on his way to the Jingshi and slips a note under his door to let him know that he has returned safely. 

For one moment, he considers stopping by the rabbit meadow but decides against it. The sun is still high in the sky but he is bone weary, so once he is in the Jingshi, Lan Wangji doesn’t even unpack - he undresses, washes up, and falls into bed, trying to ignore that this bed is indeed larger than the one he previously had, custom made to comfortably fit two people.

He is aware that this behaviour is uncharacteristic of him, but he is so tired, and his heart is heavy.

And so, he sleeps.

He wakes up before his usual time the following morning, decides to bathe and have the bedsheets changed later, then unpacks his qiankun pouch. He finds the wooden box containing Wei Wuxian’s letters, and lets his fingers run over the delicate carvings. He fumbles with the lid, unsure of whether or not he should read some of them, when he remembers the one that is still stored in his robes. He finds it, lights a candle on his desk, and sits down.

My dear Lan Zhan,

Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you are asleep? At present, I cannot remember if I ever did, but I must have. Surely no one can gaze upon such beauty without singing praises about it.

Has your journey been well? Mine is still ahead of me, but I decided that I won’t be travelling with A-Yuan and Wen Ning for long. Since we’ll be following the main trade road, it should be easy to find a merchant or two who will take me back to Gusu by cart so that I won’t need to travel by foot and will get back to Cloud Recesses more quickly.

…you just read that paragraph twice, didn’t you? My mind is racing as I am writing this, and my memories are hazy at best, but I am able to catch glimpses of things I previously had no recollection of. I will keep my promise to Sizhui and Wen Ning, not only because it is a promise, but also because I need to talk to them about some things. Get a clearer picture of the stuff swimming in my head.

Truth be told, I probably would have steered towards Cloud Recesses very soon anyway. It’s so crazy how fast I have become infatuated with you. How long has it been - two days? If it was anyone else I’d be laughing at them, but I cannot help it. Surely this means that it’s also been like this before I lost my memories, right? That this is my heart trying to remind me of things that have always been there? Paired with the way you carry yourself around me - I can be pretty dense at times, that’s true, but I am not that blind.

I will make arrangements as soon as I can, and I will be back at Cloud Recesses in a week.

There is a small chance that I now made a massive fool out of myself, in which case I ask of you not to think ill of me. Please, will you still write to me? Send a letter, even a missive, my way so I know you still want me in your life, even as a friend.

But, Lan Zhan, if I am right? If your heart calls out to mine the way mine is calling out to yours, even now? In a week’s time from now, please meet me atop the hill from where I left Cloud Recesses months ago. You will know when I am there.

Until then, be well, Lan Zhan.

Forever yours,

Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji rereads the letter once, twice, then three times before his mind truly comprehends the words on the page before him. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. He feels like crying, and while there are tears springing to his eyes, the feeling bubbles up inside of him as laughter.

So he laughs and cries at the same time, a piece of paper clutched to his chest, the morning already brighter than he could have ever dreamed it to be.

The following days are some of the longest Lan Wangji has ever experienced. He converses with his uncle, whom he only tells that yes, Wei Wuxian is well, and he will return soon, and yes, Sizhui is also well and sends his greetings. He will leave the tale to tell to Wei Wuixian himself.

He reads through the correspondence left for him. How such a large pile of letters could amass in less than five days is beyond him, and he dismisses over half of it anyway, since those are matters that would better be judged by a village elder, rather than the Chief Cultivator himself.

He listens to stuck-up clan leaders and their childish woes and wishes Wei Wuxian were already at his side, if only to have the Yiling Patriarch glare at them.

This should be enough to distract Lan Wangji from Wei Wuxian’s upcoming arrival, and yet he cannot help but secretly vibrate with anticipation. At the same time, his mind keeps on conjuring up about a thousand scenarios as to why Wei Wuxian might not make it to Cloud Recesses after all, one more terrifying than the other. They frighten him, even though he knows how unrealistic they are.

On the day Wei Wuxian is scheduled to arrive, Lan Wangji gets a small moment of respite between meetings, which he elects to spend with his beloved rabbits. He cannot tell whether they missed him more, or the basket of greeneries in his hand; for the most part he does enjoy their company, relishing in the feeling of soft fur beneath his fingers as he sits with them on the grass, his long lacy outer robe draped behind him like a delicate layer of frost.

He thinks he’s imagining it at first, the melody that is so dear to him, the one he composed for the love of his life when they were still boys, but then the wind turns, and he hears it - very faint but unmistakably. With trembling fingers and a rabbiting heart, he picks up the bunny from his lap and places it back onto the grass, mounts Bichen, and flies to the hill on which he and Wei Wuxian said their goodbyes seasons ago.

Lan Wangji spots the figure playing the flute, clad in dark robes, from afar. Little Apple is with him, grazing a bit further down the mountain. Lan Wangji touches down not too far from her, and takes a few steps towards his beloved, the man who is currently playing their song -

“Wei Ying,” he calls softly, but loud enough to be heard.

Wei Wuxian stops playing before the song is finished, the last note hanging in the air like an afterthought. For a moment he doesn’t move. Then, very slowly, he lowers his dizi and turns around, an air of uncertainty on his face.

Their gazes meet, hold, and then Wei Wuxian smiles, exhales with relief and smiles brighter than the sun ever could.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, and - there it is. The warmth that has been missing from the way Wei Wuxian says Lan Wangji’s name. It’s back, and Lan Wangji wonders if he has ever heard anything more beautiful in this world.

They gaze at each other for a few moments longer. Then, Lan Wangji sets down Bichen, and opens his arms.

Wei Wuxian hikes up the skirts of his robes so he doesn’t trip over them and runs towards Lan Wangji, runs to him with all he has, and throws himself into his waiting arms.

“Lan Zhan!” he calls as he buries his face in Lan Wangji’s neck. “You came, you really came! Oh Lan Zhan, I missed you so!”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replies, holding him close, inhaling his scent, cinnamon-warm and rain-kissed from the road. “Of course I came. But - is it true? You remember?”

Wei Wuxian pulls back a bit so he can properly look at him. 

“I do. I…there were a few things that started to resurface during the night before we parted, but I was unsure if those were real memories, or if I was imagining them just because I wanted them to be true. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and crush you even more if that would have been the case…so I went with Wen Ning and A-Yuan and needled both of them for one and a half days. I’m sure a part of them is happy that I took my leave with how much I’ve been pestering them.”

He chuckles. “But I do remember, Lan Zhan. Everything. From this life, and the previous one. I believe that I never truly forgot. I even suspect that it would have taken the curse even longer to lift, had my heart not remembered where my home is.”

“Oh? And where is that?” Lan Wangji asks, even though he thinks he already knows the answer.

“It’s not a place, Lan Zhan. It’s you . I should have figured it out much sooner, but I realised it a while ago - no matter where we are, as long as I am with you? I am home.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says again, then he lifts Wei Wuxian up and spins them both around in pure joy. Wei Wuxian’s laughter resonates through the hills, a song sweeter than any melody Lan Wangji could ever compose. He wants to live in it, never cease to hear it, for the rest of his life.

“Stay with me,” he pleads as they come to a halt. “When I am rid of this title, we can go anywhere you wish, do anything we want, and I will be there with you, as long as you stay with me, my love.”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian replies. “I am glad I went on this journey, despite all the hiccups. It did me good. But now I will stay with you. You are the one I want to spend my life with. No matter where we end up, I am going to stay with you, my Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji kisses him, then, and Wei Wuxian leans into the kiss as if he has been waiting for this moment his entire life. When they part, Wei Wuxian laughs again, in delight, and Lan Wangji cannot help but to laugh with him, soft and deep and velvety. 

“You are crying, sweetheart,” Wei Wuxian tells him, cradling his cheek in his hand.

“So are you,” Lan Wangji points out and turns his face to kiss Wei Wuxian’s palm. Then, because he needs to say it aloud or he will burst - “I love you.”

“I love you,” We Wuxian replies and kisses him again, soft and sweetly. “Let’s go home.”

“Mh. Home.”

It’s interesting, Lan Wangji thinks as, months later, he looks at the magnolia tree that stands in front of the Lecture Hall in full bloom, but is now adorned with red lanterns and ribbons. Cloud Recesses has always been his home, still is, but how much more it feels like it with his husband by his side, the man who beams at him, looking more beautiful than he could have ever imagined in his ceremonial wedding robes. They have taken their bows with no one else in attendance a few weeks prior, but decided to have a formal ceremony nonetheless because they felt like everyone they knew should be allowed to share their joy with them.

In only two months’ time, Lan Wangji will officially step down as Chief Cultivator, dissolving the position once and for all, leaving in his wake a newly formed council in which every member is voted by the populace of the clan and region they represent. He is not sure if this system will work; it is likely that it will need to be tweaked and reformed as needed. For now, this seems like the best solution. 

Once he is no longer Chief Cultivator, he and Wei Wuxian will travel as wedded Cultivation Partners, finding their home wherever their feet and hearts might lead them.

***