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2025-08-08
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Measure of Love

Summary:

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, “Let’s not let our love be measured by how much we sacrifice for one another.”

--

They don't always get it right, but there's love in the trying.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Wangji considers himself pragmatic.

Realistic. Level-headed. Calm.

The rage he feels burns so hot he thinks every vein in his body might burst. His grip on Bichen is so tight his arm trembles. He’s never felt rage like this. Never felt so helpless and consumed and...


The day had started off hopeful enough.

Wei Ying had woken up early (a rare but usually delightful occurrence) and had joined Wangji in going to the main house to attend group meditation and pay respects to the Lan Sect’s ancestors. He also stayed for the morning meal, even though Wangji knows Wei Ying doesn’t much care for breakfast - and even when he does, he doesn’t really enjoy the breakfasts provided in Cloud Recesses.

What Wei Ying knows, though, is that Wangji loves mornings with him. Loves breakfasts with him. Loves that walk back to the Jiangshi with Wei Ying when the sun is bright but not yet hot, and the mountain air is crisp and cool. Loves the way it makes Wei Ying’s cheeks flush and his lips cold when Wangji kisses them. And the rareness of such mornings only makes them better - more sacred.

And Wangji knows that Wei Ying knows this about him. And it makes him feel... indescribably precious whenever Wei Ying considers him like this.

So the crash felt all the more devastating because he was so high from feeling so treasured.

“The food tastes of death today,” an insidious whisper from behind had muttered.

“Can only be expected when dining with the demon.”

Wangji’s blood froze in his veins.

“Depraved wretch. I can’t believe he’d show his face - today of all days! Our ancestors must be rolling in their graves,” another voice had growled under their breath.

“If he didn’t so readily spread his legs--”

Wangji’s chopsticks broke in his hands, and his other hand had reached for his sword. But before he could turn to destroy those wicked, dark-tongued mongrels, his uncle’s voice rang out in the hall:

“Su Xin, Yan Yue, Lan Xu - meet me at the training halls after you finish your morning chores.”

Rage had simmered under his skin, so hot and real he could feel the bubble of it in his veins. Whatever his uncle would do to them wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough until they were sobbing and begging for forgiveness at Wei Ying’s feet and--

A hand covered his trembling hand.

He looked up.

Wei Ying - his Wei Ying - tilted his head impishly and gave him a bright smile. He leaned closer to Wangji.

“Let’s get out of here, Lan Zhan,” he whispered into Wangji’s ear. “Wen Ning brought me some osmanthus cake yesterday, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Let’s eat it with some tea, yeah?”

Wangji had nodded and stood. He had meant to place his broken chopsticks on his tray, but in his rush to get up, he accidentally threw them backward - and if they hit someone, he didn’t notice, because he was too busy noticing how beautiful his husband was. And... if anyone found fault in his actions, they didn’t say anything.

Wei Ying had laughed the moment they stepped outside. He had crowded into Wangji’s space and rubbed his face into Wangji’s chest.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he had said, “but when I eat with you, even the gruel tastes nice.”

Wangji had been tempted to say something - something, maybe, about how no punishment would be enough for what those vermin had said about Wei Ying, or maybe that they were wrong, and that anyone with more than one brain cell would know how good Wei Ying was. But nothing felt... enough. And more than anything, he didn’t want to remind Wei Ying - even for a moment - about what had happened in the hall that day.

So he had kept quiet.

He had held Wei Ying’s hand and walked back to the Jiangshi.

Wei Ying had been talkative and beautiful, as always, and by the time they made it home, Wangji was feeling much better.

But Wangji should have known then. He shouldn’t have forgotten or let Wei Ying’s smile distract him from Wei Ying’s hurt.

But he had. He had let it go. Like a fucking idiot, he had let it go, and here he was now. Too late and too stupid and--

Wangji had been walking back after overseeing the training of the senior disciples when he had come across an incensed Jingyi with a subdued Sizhui.

“We have to tell Hanguang-jun!” Jingyi had hissed in a whisper that didn’t quite make it.

“We promised Wei-qianbei that we wouldn’t,” Sizhui had replied, his eyes cast down to the ground, his shoulders slumped.

“What promise?” Wangji had asked.

The scream that Jingyi let out was of a decibel that frightened even the birds on the other side of the mountain.

“Han... Guang... Jun,” Sizhui had breathed out as he slowly sank to the ground, his eyes huge as he looked up at Wangji.

Wangji just stared at them, patiently waiting for an answer.

“No-no-nothing!” Jingyi had stammered.

Wangji waited.

“Hanguang-jun,” Sizhui breathed, his eyes still huge. “We promised...”

Wangji waited.

“It’s Master Lan Shuyan,” Jingyi had said finally. “Please, please, please don’t get mad at us. Wei-gongzi made us promise not to tell, and you know how he is! I thought we should tell you right away, but Wei-gongzi made us promise not to, and you know we aren’t supposed to break promises and--”

“Lan Shuyan,” Wangji interrupted. He didn’t care to hear whatever else Jingyi had to say.

Jingyi had moved to stand in front of Sizhui, holding his sword against him like it could offer some protection against whatever anger he expected from Wangji.

“Master Lan Shuyan has been punishing Wei-gongzi,” Jingyi had said, his body cowering back from Wangji with every word he spoke. “It’s really awful, and everyone can see he’s doing it maliciously because it’s always something different every time. But he’s the master, and when Sizhui tried to say that Wei-gongzi is an honored guest here and shouldn’t be punished no matter what, Master Lan Shuyan said he should get ten lashings for questioning the discipline methods of a master. But Wei-gongzi took them instead and told us it’s okay and that he’s okay and that we should never tell and--”

Wangji had left before Jingyi could finish whatever he was going to say.

Which brings him to now.

Rage rushing through his veins. Bichen trembling in his grasp.

The sight that greets him as he enters Lan Shuyan’s residence could enrage him for a hundred lifetimes.

Wei Ying - his Wei Ying - is kneeling on the stony ground, and above him Lan Shuyan stands.

“You’re a blight to Hanguang-jun’s reputation. You’ll have to work ten times as hard as--”

Wangji grabs Wei Ying and pulls him into his chest before Lan Shuyan can finish his poisonous words.

With one hand, he unsheathes Bichen, and with one swing he cuts through the beams of Lan Shuyan’s residence.

“Ha-ha-Hanguang-jun,” Lan Shuyan stammers out as he falls backward in fright.

“It will be your neck next time,” Wangji grits out as he walks out of the residence, Wei Ying held firmly against him.

Blood roars in his ears the entire way back home.

It’s not enough.

Wei Ying. His Wei Ying.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wangji says when they’re inside the Jiangshi, and it comes out angrier than he wants it to. He knows he shouldn’t be mad at Wei Ying. But Wei Ying should have told him. He should have, and Wangji should have known and--

“Why would I bother you with such a small thing, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, nonchalantly smoothing out his robes. “I can’t believe those little gremlins went and told on me. They’ve got it totally wrong, Lan Zhan. Lan Shuyan has been helping me learn the Gusu--”

“He’s been punishing you,” Wangji grits out, and he trembles at the mere thought of it. The image of Wei Ying kneeling there flashes in his mind like a nightmare, and to think that had been happening under Wangji’s watch. To think that--

“Not punishing... just... correcting!” Wei Ying says. “You know how I am, Lan Zhan. Even though I know the rules, I just can’t seem to abide by them. And I can’t keep embarrassing you forever--”

“You’re not an embarrassment!” Wangji roars, slamming his fist against the wall, and he feels half-crazed with rage and sorrow and self-hatred.

Wei Ying stares at him.

Finally looks at Wangji like he sees him for the first time.

It’s the first time Wangji has ever raised his voice against Wei Ying, and he knows he should apologize, but... but...

“You’re not an embarrassment,” Wangji says again, softly this time. “You’re my--”

And even he’s taken aback by the way tears suddenly strangle him, stopping the words at his throat.

Tears spill from his eyes, and all he can do is stand there and tremble. Barely keeping himself together so that he doesn’t break down in humiliating sobs. 

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. I’m so sorry,” Wei Ying says, crowding against him. His arms wrap around Wangji and his hands rub aimlessly at Wangji’s back and sides, as if he’s trying to find some magic spot that will bring Wangji back together. “I was wrong. Husband, I was wrong. Don’t cry. I’m sorry, I was wrong, don’t cry.”

Wangji lets his head fall into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck.

Inch by inch, he lets his body fall into Wei Ying, trusting that Wei Ying has him.

Slowly, they sink to the floor, until Wei Ying is sitting on Wangji’s lap, Wangji’s face still hidden in the crook of Wei Ying’s neck, Wei Ying’s arms still around him, holding him together.

“I was wrong, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says softly. “Don’t cry. Your husband was wrong, Lan Zhan. I won’t do it again.”

“You are my pride,” Wangji says into Wei Ying’s chest. “You are my most precious person.” And he has to stop then because tears spill anew.

He’s such an idiot. What had he been doing all this time? What had he done that Wei Ying would feel like he had to go to such lengths? How had he been treating Wei Ying that Wei Ying would feel that he would have to endure such treatment? 

“I love you,” Wangji says, and his voice breaks at the word. “I brought you here to keep you safe. How could you ever embarrass me? Yo-you are my most precious--”  

And there’s so much more he should say. He should apologize. He should ask how long this has been going on. He should...

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, pressing kisses against the side of Wangji’s head. “I wasn’t thinking straight. You’re right, of course you are right. I’m your most precious person. Of course I am. What was I thinking? How could I let Lan Zhan’s most precious person be treated that way? Don’t cry, Lan Zhan. I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. Don’t cry.”

Wangji doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but moonlight is shining through the windows of the Jiangshi by the time his tears dry up and he can lift his head to look at Wei Ying. 

Wei Ying smiles a soft sorry smile down at him, his thumbs gently pressing under Wangji’s eyes. 

The look on his face is so precious that Wangji feels like he might cry again. 

“There you are,” Wei Ying says gently, “my husband.” 

Wangji wraps his arms around Wei Ying’s waist and holds him tight against him. 

Later, after Wei Ying has gently wiped Wangji’s face with a damp, warm cloth. Later, after Wei Ying has brushed Wangji’s hair and pressed kisses onto Wangji’s swollen eyelids. 

Later, when they’re laying side by side, Wei Ying’s head, pillowed on Wangji’s, Wei Ying will tell him, “I just hate the things they say about you because of me - and I know no matter what I do their opinions won’t change, but... it just made me feel better. Like... at least I was making an effort, you know?” 

Wangji folds his arm in, bringing Wei Ying close to him, and presses his lips against Wei Ying’s forehead. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Wei Ying whispers. 

Wangji reaches down to grab Wei Ying’s hand and brings it up to kiss his fingers. 

“I’ll cut their tongues out,” he swears. 

Wei Ying chuckles softly. He turns his hand in Wangji’s hold and threads his fingers through Wangji’s. 

“Don’t waste your energy on those idiots,” Wei Ying says. “I just lost my mind for a little bit. How could I ever have let them treat Lan Zhan’s most precious person poorly? Don’t worry, Lan Zhan. I’ll handle them.” 

Wangji would rather cut his own hand off than watch Wei Ying suffer a single bruise. But to have Wei Ying return such devotion breaks Wangji’s heart in a different way. 

If only Wei Ying loved him a bit less.

If only Wangji wasn’t so loved in return, Wei Ying would never endure such suffering. 

If only.

But the selfish part of him can’t help but be thankful. Can’t help but be greedy. 

“Do not suffer for me,” Wangji begs. 

Wei Ying burrows himself deep into Wangji’s chest. 

“It’s not suffering if it’s for you, Lan Zhan,” he says simply. 

And Wangji can’t reply because it’s the same for him too.

It’s the same for him too.

When the dawn breaks, Wangji does not get out of bed. He holds Wei Ying close to him and watches the way his chest rises and falls. He takes his time to memorize the way Wei Ying’s nose slopes, the curve of his lips, the arch of his brow. 

Wei Ying wakes long after meditation and breakfast is over. And the surprised and delighted look Wei Ying gives him when he realizes Wangji is still in bed with him makes Wangji regret not having done it sooner.

They spend a slow morning together. Eating and bathing together. 

Wangji brushes Wei Ying’s hair and ties it for him and when they’re both ready, Wangji holds Wei Ying and flies them both out of Cloud Recesses. 

The time that they spend together outside of Cloud Recesses can only be described as indulgent.

Wangji takes Wei Ying to Yunmeng. 

He takes Wei Ying boating on the lotus-covered lakes and watches Wei Ying excitedly run from stall to stall at the night market. He eats everything Wei Ying offers him and later, he can’t remember what anything tasted like, just that the way Wei Ying glowed under the night lights was so beautiful that nothing else seemed important. 

In Yunmeng, he watches Wei Ying bicker with Jiang Cheng and laugh so openly and loudly that it serves as a sharp reminder that he’s never seen Wei Ying laugh like that in Cloud Recesses. 

They find themselves in Lanling and Wangji buys Wei Ying gilded peonies and silk socks. He rents a room at the best inn in the city and makes love to Wei Ying on gold sheets. 

“I feel like a concubine called to serve the emperor,” Wei Ying says cheekily, laid out enticingly on the bed. 

Wangji is already untying the ties that hold his robes together. 

“Do you like that?” he asks.

“Be gentle with me, my lord,” Wei Ying replies, his eyes looking down demurely, “I will do my best to please you, but it is my first time.” 

“Ridiculous,” Wangji says fondly. 

Wei Ying cackles as Wangji pushes him into the sheets. 

They make love long into the night and Wangji is “Lan Zhan” and “my lord” by turns. 

They wake up when the sun is already high in the sky and slowly, they make their way to Jinlintai.

There Lan Zhan watches as Wei Ying simultaneously bullies and dotes on Jin-gongzi. 

Even in Jinlintai there is a looseness to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan has never seen at Cloud Recesses. 

It’s difficult not to fall into self-hatred at his slowness. How had he taken so long to realize? How was he only realizing all this now? But his self-hatred won’t bring Wei Ying any happiness so he tries to find solace in the fact that he’s realized now. 

That Wei Ying is happy now.

They spend a month like this, going from city to city. 

They spend a few days in no-name towns by the ocean. A few nights slept under the stars. Slow and indulgent and without even one word of reproach or derision. And though he never says it out loud, in his heart, Wangji quietly mourns his departure from Cloud Recesses.

Because though it was a place of pain for Wei Ying, it was home for Lan Zhan once. And though he’ll never go back to a place that hurt Wei Ying, he can admit that the goodbye hurts. 

But the hurt is so small in comparison to Wei Ying’s joy that it’s easy to forget.

So it takes Lan Zhan off guard when after a month of this slow, indulgent life, Wei Ying takes Wangji’s hand in his and says, “Okay, Lan Zhan, I think we’ve had enough fun. Let’s go home.” 

Wangji blinks at him, not understanding.

Home?

“Yunmeng?” he asks. 

Wei Ying furrows his eyebrows. “No. Home!” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Cloud Recesses!”

Wangji just looks a him for a long time. Takes him in. Remembers the beauty of Wei Ying’s laugh, how he looks in lantern lights of the night markets, how warm and still he is as he sleeps late into the mornings, and how he smiles and rubs his face into Wangji’s chest like a pleased child when he wakes up in his arms. 

Finally, he looks down at their hands, fingers intertwined. 

Tomorrow, they’ll travel south, he thinks. It’s getting cold and Wei Ying doesn’t like the cold. Wangji will take Wei Ying somewhere warm. Somewhere where Wei Ying can laze in the water and get sun-kissed and golden. 

Somewhere far away from Cloud Recesses. 

Wei Ying squeezes Wangji’s hand and tugs at it sharply. 

“Look at me, Lan Zhan,” he says.

When Wangji looks up, Wei Ying’s eyes are bright and sure. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, “Let’s not let our love be measured by how much we sacrifice for one another.” 

Wangji’s breath hitches at Wei Ying’s words. A shadow of embarrassment threatens to arise within him as he suddenly feels a little bit chided. A little bit cut open and seen through.

“When I said I was wrong - those weren’t just placating words, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continues, “I realized it the moment I saw how much I hurt you. I was wrong.” 

Wei Ying raises his hand to cup Wangji’s face. He rubs his thumb under Wangji’s eye like he did that night Wangji cried.

“I was wrong, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says softly, “and I think my mistake made you misunderstand something, but, I’m happy at Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan. I really am.”

Lan Zhan searches Wei Ying’s face, tries to find any sign of deception. He knows Wei Ying would never lie to him but...

But Wei Ying doesn’t laugh so loudly... He doesn’t--

“I really like Cloud Recesses,” Wei Ying says, shaking Wangji’s hand to emphasize his point. “I like how it’s so quiet so I can sleep in as late as I want undisturbed. I like spending time with Sizhui and Jingyi. I like the constipated face uncle makes when I do something ridiculous. And most of all, I like how much you like being in Cloud Recesses.”

Wei Ying gives him a rueful smile. 

“I did something stupid, Lan Zhan. I let the words of some unimportant insects get to me,” he says, “But let’s not let my stupid mistake change the way we love each other.”

Wei Ying’s smile widens into something mischevious and he jumps into Wangji’s lap, his arms wrapping themselves around Wangji’s neck. He rubs his nose just under Wangji’s jaw and breathes deeply.

“I forgot - just for a moment - that to you love you well, I must take good care of the people you care about. And who does Lan Zhan care about more than me? Am I not your most precious person, Lan Zhan?” he asks.

“Hm,” Wangji answers immediately. Because there is no question. Of course he is.

Of course.

“And you are mine, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “Don’t you ever forget that.” 

Wangji wraps his arms around Wei Ying and presses kisses onto the side of Wei Ying’s head. 

“You are my most precious person, so you must do everything you can to be as happy as possible. And though I’ll never pretend to understand it, I know your happiness means waking up early and eating gruel and following ten thousand rules.”

“Hm.”

“And my happiness is waking up late and eating spicy food and breaking every rule in new and inventive ways.” 

“Hm.”

“But that doesn’t mean that I won’t wake up early sometimes and eat gruel with you.”

“Hm.” And Wangji thinks he’s beginning to understand.

“Because a few early mornings aren’t a sacrifice - not even close.”

Wei Ying moves his hands to push against Wangji’s shoulders and leans back so they can see each other clearly. 

Whatever he sees on Wangji’s face must please him because he chuckles contentedly and gives Wangji a kiss. 

“I promise to never try to trade my suffering for your happiness, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, “So you must promise me the same.”

Wangji tugs the front of Wei Ying’s robes and pulls him in for a long, deep kiss. 

“Promise,” he whispers when they part. 

And it is a promise to Wei Ying as much as it is a promise to himself. 

Because Wei Ying is right. 

Wangji’s not sure what their love can be measured in, but he knows for certain that their love is too big - too good - to be measured in such a starved thing like pain or suffering. 

He won’t let it. 


Wangji is pragmatic. Realistic. Level-headed. 

Calm.

When they return to Cloud Recesses, he still cuts out the tongues of those insidious insects.

But only because he had made a promise.

And Wangji always keeps his promises.

Notes:

it's been so long since I posted anything idk if this is right. you can find me on tumblr