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Lan Wangji didn’t find as much trouble with white as other people did.
Wei Ying would always complain about his white ‘funeral' robes, and Shufu would always punish him to kneel in the snow; but Lan Wangji found it tranquil.
Meditating on every tiny snowflake hitting the ground and joining millions of others, over and over– it made sure he didn’t feel the sting in his arms from holding up the discipline stick.
Wearing simple, colorless fabrics made sure he didn’t occupy himself with vanity. ( Do not be promiscuous. Learning comes first. Maintain your own discipline .) It also inadvertently made sure he was careful and precise enough in his movements so as to not dirty himself. The robes made him regulate himself. A simple, ascetic life.
He had made peace with this.
White was good. The white in his mother’s smile, the white of the sky on the days he practised his guqin under the roof of the Jingshi, the white of Shufu’s scroll.
But – the bunnies Wei Ying gave him were also white. The palace that had claimed to hold up the rules of a just cultivation was also white.
And Wei Ying – his Chenqing was black as the night. A-yuan’s robes were tattered and dark, and obsidian tendrils of resentment swirled around the both of them.
Black, that was all things ‘bad’ and ‘dark’ was now beloved. His heart ached whenever he looked at the hollow, sunken eyes on the zhiji he had once sworn to stay beside. His own eyes reflected the endless void he saw in Wei Ying those days. The day that Wei Ying was first found after three months, the day that Wei Ying was first shunned by the gentry, the day that Wei Ying had first asked him a question he did not want to answer– he could not answer.
How could he break his promise? Wei Ying needed Lan Wangji more than ever, and in a way only Lan Wangji could provide, and it was his duty to fulfill it.
But- Stay on the righteous path. Be ethical. Do not associate with evil. Shoulder the weight of morality. Do not disregard laws and rules . This is what the disciplines said, and were the disciplines also not a promise? A sacred oath by which to conduct oneself? Lan Wangji had always questioned every rule, dissected its meaning and applied it to the context; but in this case, the context was this: Wei Ying had disappeared for 3 months after the tragic fall of Lotus Pier and returned, with no explanation, as a demonic cultivator that walked the path of resentment and crafty tricks.
Lan Wangji knew that there were both merits and demerits; arguments for and arguments against this:
First, the goal of cultivation is to suppress evil. By choosing the path of resentment, Wei Ying went against the very root of cultivation. But secondly, clumping him together with the likes of Xue Yang was simply incorrect. There was a profound difference; the same difference that had drawn Lan Wangji to Wei Ying in the first place – there was still justice in Wei Ying’s eyes.
Even as he renounced the righteous path, Lan Wangji saw it in Wei Ying’s actions to help the defenceless Wen remnants, in the way he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Lan Wangji in every fight. He remembered the brand seared into Wei Ying’s chest, the exhausted visage of Wei Ying after the Sunshot Campaign. He knew then that Wei Ying hadn’t changed in character but in approach. So it was inappropriate to call Wei Ying evil. He would not call Wei Ying evil. No one could. They had no right, and no base to stand on.
Moreover, secondly, Wei Ying’s Yin Tiger Tally had played an instrumental role in the Sunshot Campaign. Though it affected his temperament and health, it was nothing that time and patience couldn’t fix; and finally, finally Wei Ying had agreed to let Lan Wangji help him, but then he’d gone to a place that was the farthest he could be from Lan Wangji.
So, Lan Wangji let him go. In person and in his mind. He stopped trying to fit Wei Ying into ‘black’ and ‘white’. There was no answer to Wei Ying. There was no category, and there was no precedent. He was gray. He shone like the brightest stars in talent, was buried under the hatred of the gentry like a diamond in the rough. Wei Ying was silver. Lan Wangji had made his peace with this.
He had, but when he had heard of how few cultivators frequented Yiling for night-hunts these days, Lan Wangji took it upon himself to look into the matter and ensure the safety of its inhabitants. And if in that process, he ran into Wei Ying, there was nothing he could do about that, and if his writing back home was filled with Wei Ying’s thoughts, he would not mention it.
When he saw A-yuan, he was filled with an emptiness so deep only the affection that came with it could fill it. He felt adoration towards A-yuan. He knew this feeling by now. He could recognize it. It had only happened a few times before. But not quite in this way. He felt as if he was viewing himself from his Xiongzhang’s gaze, or from his Shufu’s scoldings. It is as he was thinking this, that Wei Ying asked of any news in the cultivation world.
Lan Wangji’s face was passive, but his heart hammered unreasonably as he said, “A marriage.”
Wei Ying’s face fell slowly as he realized slowly exactly whose marriage it was. So it was true, then. Wei Ying truly had succeeded from the Jiang Sect and hadn’t been in contact with them.
Why? Wei Ying, why? When it causes you so much pain? When it hurts you so much? Why? When the alternative path is so much easier, so much more…correct, in some ways than others .
But he cannot again understand where to put A-yuan and the other remnants, where to put Wen Ning, and this new Wei Ying.
But this he could not put away to the back of his mind: Wei Ying was trying to say something to him. Maybe Lan Wangji was reading into it, as he always tried to with Wei Ying’s actions, but he felt as if Wei Ying had the words on the tip of his tongue, but instead of letting them carelessly spill as he used to before, he guarded them now, even from Lan Wangji.
His heart ached. He knew he didn’t belong in Yiling, with the Wen remnants, with Wei Ying. He knew that as a member of the gentry, he had to go back, but he found himself wishing he could stay. He had never had a want for anything before, but this once, he ached to stay. Without any money, without his white robes, without his ribbon… he wished to stay. But he couldn’t let himself finish the thought.
He turned as he heard Wei Ying’s voice through the wispy forest. “Who cares about the crowded broad road?” He smiled at A-yuan, swinging their joined hands. “I’ll walk the single-plank bridge into the night.”
Lan Wangji breathed in. Wei Ying…I wish you didn’t choose to be alone. I wish you asked me for help. I would gladly give up my everything.
But he continued on. All the way to Gusu, and the next time he saw Wei Ying, he lost him.
When they’d heard of Jin-gongzi’s death, Lan Wangji knew he needed to see Wei Ying. But he was too late.
He lost him.
Wei Ying. What does it all mean? What happened? After the success with Wen Ning; after the talent you honed, what happened? Wei Ying, did you need my help and I wasn’t there?
But, he had lost Wei Ying .
He didn’t understand what it meant. He had not repeated his father’s mistake like Shufu had insinuated. He had not caged Wei Ying. So he didn’t understand.
What did it mean that his muqin couldn’t see him anymore? He had been good all month. What did it mean that he couldn’t see Wei Ying anymore? Lan Wangji had done what was right.
Lan Wangji had followed the rules. The rules made sense, because they made sure Lan Wangji followed a path in life that led to virtuous and just outcomes; so why couldn’t he see Wei Ying anymore? Why was it, that despite Wei Ying following what the heart of all the disciplines say–to lead a simple and just life–that Wei Ying had ended up this way.
Because Lan Wangji had understood one thing in all these years, that the rules stood for character and discipline to achieve the goal of justice and peace, so why, when Wei Ying had done all he could and more to reach that goal had he… failed?
Why was the cliff empty where Wei Ying had stood moments ago? It reminded him of the time they were trapped in the cave with each other. Why had Wei Ying been so ready to give up on his life? Why had he so readily entered the Xuanwu’s mouth? At the time, it had annoyed Lan Wangji. Wei Ying was callous and careless. His annoyance wrapped around his admiration for Wei Ying like a fence.
But, as he found himself singing the tune he’d been humming to himself that night, as he found himself focusing on the white of the spiritual energy they shared, he found that there was something else, along with admiration, along with respect and acknowledgement.
There was an acceptance.
He remembered the shameless manner in which Wei Ying had challenged the Second Young Master of the Lan Clan as no one had before, questioned and played with everything, surpassed and excelled in every measure, and how he had never looked at Lan Wangji.
Wei Ying had seen him. Seen through him in ways only his Xiongzhang and Shufu had. But he had never looked at him. Never spared a glance at him, the way he did Nie Huaisang, and more deeply– Jiang Wanyin.
Lan Wangi remembered how he had shown him the book with…non virtuous acts. Maybe, the reason his annoyance had crossed his fence that day was the very same careless nature of Wei Ying’s. Because when Lan Wangji had seen it, it was like the missing piece to a puzzle. It made sense–his feelings, his deepest shame, his deepest desires, hidden–even to him, were in front of him on a page right then.
But as he met Wei Ying’s eyes, there was a certain mirth, a playfulness that did not match Lan Wangji’s. He had resigned himself to this feeling then.
Wei Ying viewed Lan Wangji as a charity case of great curiosity, but nothing more, as he had made clear after he had called him ‘Hanguang-Jun’ in that voice of his after Lan Wangji had looked for him day and night. Wei Ying listened to Jiang Wanyin and his eyes followed the others’ and he knew that the person Wei Ying loved and adored was his shidi. Lan Wangji would love and admire Wei Ying, and Wei Ying would only… Well, not even admire him anymore.
He would not even exist anymore.
The empty cliff was red with Wei Ying’s blood. A fear so indescribable gripped him that he was frozen in place. A few moments passed as his brain cleared up enough to have one thought – A-yuan. What happened to A-yuan? Surely, A-yuan wasn’t punished for… whatever mistake was made by the adults… by Wen Ning; by… Wei Ying .
But when he took Bichen out to ride her, it was the next day. How had an entire day felt like mere moments spent ruminating? He stepped onto Bichen and set off for the Burial Mounds. A-yuan.
A-yuan was smaller than he remembered and dangerously feverish. Lan Wangji sighed. There was no time for his feelings anymore. All he could do was cover A-yuan’s ears from the biting wind as Bichen took them to Gusu–
–to the Cloud Recesses, where he knelt in front of his Shufu, not very different from the way he had before; but this time, he didn’t feel wronged. He just felt empty. He barely registered Xiongzhang taking A-yuan.
Yes, Xiongzhang; his Huan-ge. He could trust him to take care of A-yuan, for it was him that did, when he himself was just a bit older than A-yuan, staying up to read stories and percepts to Lan Wangji, teaching music and myth; and in those years that Lan Wangji couldn’t get up, couldn’t even take care of his own self, Xiongzhang had.
Shufu wouldn’t look at A-yuan, and A-yuan was picking up on it. Lan Wangji could do nothing but hang his head. He knew that going against the elders and letting A-yuan stay was Shufu’s approval in a sense, but it was never the same. He could feel the distance between them; ever-present disappointment in his gaze. Or maybe Lan Wangji was simply disappointed in himself, because it was enough.
Shufu had sacrificed having his own family for Lan Wangji and he had done so for A-yuan. It was enough.
A-yuan was now 7, and starting to show an interest in the practice his shiges did around him.
Lan Wangji called him one day. After all these years, after visiting that cliff in Nightless City again, he knew what to say: “A-yuan. As you meet more and more people, you will hear many different things. People will tell you they are absolutely sure these things are true, but A-yuan. Only believe them once you know for yourself what the case is.”
It was what he wished he could tell himself when he was younger, and the desire increased with every day that the pain settled into his bones anew. He had been willing to do everything for Wei Ying but listen to him.
He knew that even if he listened to Wei Ying, he wouldn’t have agreed with him, but maybe, it could’ve helped his case with the gentry, or maybe, even if nothing else changed, even a shunned Wei Ying was still alive.
But now, Lan Wangji had failed to help Wei Ying, had failed to listen to him, and he would not fail in raising A-yuan. He would make him the person no one could be during those hard war-drawn years– a balance. A balance of discipline and caution, of familiarity and curiosity; of him and Wei Ying.
✦
Lan Wangji heard it before he saw him. The tune that he had often repeated in the safety of his mind, in his music books. A song that you could find nowhere but in the Jingshi–and in the cave of the Xuanwu.
He was a slight man who wore a mask and played awfully. It could not be his Wei Ying. He told himself it could not, but his warm grip, his soft chatter, his incessant laughs, were all the same. The second good thing demonic cultivation had offered Lan Wangji–Wei Ying, back from the dead and with him. It was a peace offering that Lan Wangji accepted with open arms.
He saw the way Sizhui’s eyes narrowed in analysis and he chewed his lip in thought. Good . Proud. Sizhui should understand Wei Ying, and apply the disciplines Lan Wangji had thought the most important. Those of wisdom and critical thinking.
Those of right and wrong and good and evil too, because Wei Ying wasn’t wrong, nor was he evil. He was Wei Ying, and he was back.
Wei Ying smiled again at Lan Wangji and it was a lot more withdrawn than he remembered, but he should not presume to know him, and it reminds him too much of the time just days ago when Wei Ying was still away, and he couldn’t take it.
So he spoke of the arm, and set out with Wei Ying to find its perpetrator. He thought of when Wei Ying had followed him on his hunt for the Yin Iron shards. Oh, how naive they had all been… How unaware of what lay in the future. But it was futile to dwell in the past so he focused on the Wei Ying of now.
Because he was different; but even though this time, they did not say it, it was still his Zhiji. And so he would get to know him.
And stick by him. Lan Wangji had waited sixteen years for this chance. For this chance to chose to stay by Wei Ying’s side, in the way that he wants. When Lan Wangji choses to stay with him at the steps of Jinlintai, the relief on his face is palatable, and he thinks for the first time all these weeks Wei Ying smiles the way he used to before, it is just as wide and free, but his eyes are different. They were gentle and grateful. Wei Ying has changed. Lan Wangji smiles back. Either way, it is Wei Ying.
But, maybe even before the events at Nightless city, Wei Ying had changed irrevocably and Lan Wangji simply hadn’t noticed. All he’d cared about was ‘good’ and ‘bad’, ‘orthodoxy’ and ‘unorthodoxy’. And truly, he’d never understood why someone as talented as Wei Ying chose to walk that path. Despite its merits, it was a dark and lonely path, one on which Lan Wangji couldn’t have walked beside him in those days…
But now, as he stood with Wei Ying’s frail body in his arms, just as sickly and gaunt as those days in the Burial Mounds, and Wen Ning’s back to him; he watched Jiang Wanyin pull out Suibian from its sheath, watched as the words hung in the air, as their implication permeated the air. Wei Ying had never told anyone. That was the promise he seemed to have made to Jiang Wanyin, and he truly never even told Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji, who understood just one side of Wei Ying’s actions, but now it all made sense. Oh Wei Ying…
Lan Wangji’s eyes spilled tears just as they had on just two occasions save for this one. Wei Ying was noble, and loyal, and no one was a match for him.
He watched Wen Ning’s meek figure as he paddled the boat. So different from just moments ago. He sighs, asking a couple of the whirlwind of questions and feelings in his mind. And then Wei Ying wakes up, and Lan Wangji wants to make him smile for once after he had unknowingly caused Wei Ying so much pain all those years ago. He breaks off a Lotus pod and offers it to Wei Ying, in earnest, his adoration on his sleeve. ‘Wei Ying, this will not be enough for those times; nothing will, but this is a start.’
They are called away, and this time, it is his Xiongzhang he has to hurt. His Xiongzhang who had always known Lan Wangji’s feelings when no one else bothered to, the one who had brushed his hair so tenderly, stayed up talking about how the bright star in the sky was their mom, known Lan Wangji’s heart before himself and helped Wei Ying’s opinion on him in anyway he could, and accepted Lan Wangji and Sizhui. His Xiongzhang, who trusted the one man Lan Wangji was wary of over the others. Everyone knew of Jin Guangyao’s wit, and everyone knew of his potential motives. And now Lan Wangji knows the proof.
But Xiongzhang is hurt when Lan Wangji implies this and he wants to return to those times in the Cloud Recesses before the war and complain about his bunnies, but he stares into the space between them and Xiongzhang understands. He does not believe them. He does not want to.
Lan Wangji understood. If someone accused Wei Ying the way he just had Jin Guangyao, Lan Wangji would have no words left to say either. So he resigns himself to find further proof.
His Xiongzhang is more understanding than Lan Wangji would have been. He gives them the benefit of the doubt, and when they find it, he believes them. On the way over to Jin Guangyao’s chambers, Lan Wangji notices how his Xiongzhang’s feet halt and stammer ever-so-minutely but he doesn't mention it.
Soon, they are surrounded by Jin guards and the gentry and Wei Ying is pushing him away. Lan Wangji casts a questioning glance at Wei Ying, but Wei Ying is looking at Jiang Wanyin. Again.
Lan Wangji breathes determinedly and when Wei Ying offers him an out, even against orthodoxy, he doesn’t take it. And Wei Ying smiles, and for once, maybe it is just Lan Wangji beside Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji cannot make this go away with his silencing spell. Jin Rulan had just stabbed Wei Ying. Lan Wangji thinks the wound is not fatal. They do not have time to check. Lan Wangji’s forehead creases as he pushes the Young Master away.
Wei Ying. This time will be different.
As Lan Wangji transfers whatever he can as quickly as he can to save Wei Ying, he hears his bitter laugh, and he knows it is because of Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan. Wei Ying cared for them in a way so profound, even now. Lan Wangji sighed softly. It had always been like this. And just because circumstances and the party had changed, didn’t Wei Ying would. That is who he was.
But when by the end of it all, Wei Ying wants to go to the Cloud Recesses with him, Lan Wangji cannot help the relief he feels.
The temple brought with it a change so huge Lan Wangji didn’t know how to feel about it. Maybe what he feels is shame, or hate, or relief, or horror, or melancholy. He doesn’t know.
Maybe it is all at once.
Jiang Wanyin confronts Wei Ying about his golden core and he cries in a way that perhaps Wei Ying has seen before and that is why he is so nonchalant; or maybe it is because all of his answers to Jiang Wanyin have a resignation, a tiredness.
Wei Ying says, “There is nothing left to say anymore.” And Lan Wangji feels white hot shame course through him at the victory he feels. It is a feeble victory. Wei Ying wipes Jiang Wanyin’s face of a stray tear, and Lan Wangi sees the adoration in them. Wei Ying cares, but not in the way that is enough to restore the past.
That is good. The Wei Ying of the past would not spare Lan Wangji as many glances as he does now. Wei Ying has changed–whether for good, or for bad. And for a clan that made him secede, and then didn’t offer him an altar in respect after his death, such a clan is best forgotten.
But then-
His Xiongzhang is closing his eyes the way he does when it all gets too much, and the pain in his eyes as Jin Guangyao explains his side is one he doesn’t suppress like he usually does. In those last moments of Jin Guangyao’s life, his Xinogzhang had looked at him the way perhaps Lan Wangji had looked at Wei Ying that day at Nightless City. But he does not know what to do about it. He never does. Whenever it comes to giving back to his Xiongzhang, no words are enough and no actions are sufficient.
But he doesn’t have time to think about it. He has to usher the others out, and when the temple collapses behind them, it takes Xiongzhang a little too long to come out and Lan Wangji cannot breathe.
But when his Xiongzhang finally does come out, he does not want to see it. He does not want to see the way it turns into a seclusion, that bitter smile on his face. His Xiongzhang. In the end, he could do nothing for him. It was not enough.
But still, someday, maybe it would be enough.
Wei Ying stays in the Jingshi, and A-yuan visits. Shufu does not object…vocally. And together, they see his Xiongzhang.
So maybe, someday, he will be enough.