Chapter Text
Irritation. The word was forbidden in the walls encompassing the Cloud Recesses, not even a mutter or a murmur tolerated about its existence, for the GusuLan’s practices and beliefs were far above such a word. It was foreign, invasive, and unknown—something only for the outside world that the Lan disciples could only imagine to be akin to the discomfort when the chilling winds of the mountains were even more harsher. Lan Wangji had long been under the same naivety.
Growing up as the younger of the renowned Gusu Jade Twins and as the revered and always dutiful Head of Discipline for the juniors of Cloud Recesses, no other disciple could claim to uphold and respect as much as she did. Every morning, when all the other native Lans would walk up perfectly in sync, she would pick up her copy of the Etiquette for Noble Principles and enshrine the words into her mind, every stroke to its length and thickness memorished to perfection.
When others copied the rules out of punishment, she copied them out of habit—a daily routine that would not be disturbed. When others were ordered to recite idioms and teachings of famed masters, she spoke them to further ground herself during mediation. When others rushed their training to return to the lunchhall, she indulged only in the permitted three bowls of rice a day before returning dutifully to the training grounds until her next duties required her. While not the heir of the GusuLan Sect, Lan Wangji had been perfectly cultivated by her teachers and elders, not a drop of water or knowledge wasted on her upbringing. It was routine. It was natural. It was peace.
Ever since her official debut when she was given her courtesy name, Lan Wangji had long been crowned as the paragon of what an ideal lady should be—youthful yet mature, beautiful but not vain, smart but not rebellious, and strict yet never quick to anger.
The shifting of years brought the latest batch of students for the select age group of students. The usual Lan disciplinary classes were done every year—something the Nies were certainly grateful for in regards to their heir—but every three years, they held special, more in-depth lectures spanned over a few months, meant mainly for sharing of culture and bettering sect relationships. The last batch of students did not cause any havoc of note—a few improper letters sent to the other side of the wall separating the disciples but nothing more—as such Lan Wangji did not have much expectation for this year’s students. The only change would be that there would be more faces in the lunch hall, and more punishments needing to be dished out and delegated.
She was reorganising the books in her room when she received news that Shufu summoned her brother and her to his room. After turning five, Lan Wangji rarely visited the male section of Cloud Recesses unless on official business. It wasn’t forbidden to visit the other sections as all disciples ate in the same lunchhall and trained in the same areas, but it was highly disapproved of to idle long. Making her way through the hallways and gardens separating the sections, she found herself outside Shufu’s room, staring face to face with her brother. Lan Xichen smiled and greeted her and she did the same, albeit more mundanely.
“How have you been, Wangji?”
“Good, Xiongzhang,” she replied with a simple dip of the head. “And you?”
He gave his signature light chuckle, “Nothing to complain about as always.”
It was meant to be a joke—a sect heir like Lan Xichen would of course have stressful matters, but he would never dare to share such burdens, no matter if she offered. He was mature and sensible about Sect Matters in a way that sometimes confused her, but perhaps that was why he was born first and not her. Fate always had a way of making things right, she supposed.
Their relationship was neither bitter nor foul, sharing a mutual understanding they had with no one else. Despite that though, she was always aware of the boundary separating them—taught by different teachers, slept in different sections of the Sect, and only shared company during mealtime or work. It was rare they had a conversation that was natural with no official business involved. He opened the door and the two entered, the familiar scent of incense and aged scrolls welcoming them as they moved to sit down on the cushions in front of their Shufu’s desk. After the needed pleasantries were done, her Shufu spoke.
“Xichen, Wangji, this year we will be receiving the LanlingJin delegation along with the YunmengJiang.” Lan Wangji briefly met Lady Jiang in the last batch of students, a pleasant girl who followed the rules and instinctively acted as mediator during arguments. She had hope for this batch from YunmengJiang. “As such, I expect you two to remain vigilant this time around.”
“We understand,” Lan Xichen said, nodding. She did the same, sharing the sentiment.
Shufu continued, “And also.” He focused directly on Lan Wangji, her back already in perfect posture without needing to be adjusted. “Wangji, I must inform you that the YunmengJiang is sending their head disciple, Wei Wuxian, this year. She will be under your care.”
The hidden question was clear—have you heard of her?
Truth be told, she had. While gossip as a whole was forbidden in the GusuLan, and Lan Wangji herself rarely participated in any conversation unless required, no one could dare say they hadn’t heard news of YunmengJiang’s infamous head disciple.
Born the daughter of the YunmengJiang’s former head disciple and the favoured disciple of an immortal, many would sing praises of her beauty as well as admiring her talent at the bow and sword. On the day of her debut during a competition in Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hunted down double of what second place had caught in half a Shichen. During nighthunts, any Jiang disciple the other clans met would only defend their Shijie’s honour as if their own was at stake, not allowing a comment to fly or be ignored in their presence.
Many of these were good things to hear about a person, but Lan Wangji never allowed herself to be a liar. She knew the real reason why she knew of Wei Wuxian. Many students loudly gossiped about how Sect Leader Jiang always ignored or outright rejected all betrothal offers for his head disciple no matter if the offer was to an ignored fourth nephew or beloved first son to a major sect, his response was always polite yet firm. Madam Jiang, Yu Ziyuan, was the exact opposite—talking about Wei Wuxian to any leader listening as if offering a grand treasure, rumours of the intensive training the young girl went through comparable to an imperial princess to transform her into an enviable offer, though Sect Leader Jiang never allowed it to flourish and bloom into more.
Eventually, less than savory theories on his true motives spread like a wildfire through the hallways, either implying her involvement with either the Jiang Heir or Sect Leader—sometimes both if the person’s mouth was loose enough to mouth such depravity. Lan Wangji always made sure to give firmer punishments to these ones. If the Head disciple herself was so talked about when she was all the way in Yunmeng, what would Cloud Recesses turn into when she was there in the flesh?
Shufu continued, “As such, I remind you that it is your duty to maintain fair and just judgement. You must leave personal biases out of your heart, no matter what. If you see anyone breaking the rules, you must act accordingly.”
“Yes, Shufu, I understand.” She would keep a close eye on this one.
***<Arrival of Sects>***
The arrival of the Sect clans began as always—with noise. The cacophony of loud panting and unsubtle cursing filled Lan Wangji’s ears as the first delegations arrived. After the two sects had been welcomed into their rooms, grey robes detailed by luscious green came up the staircase and Lan Xichen’s posture becoming more relaxed was the only warning she had before she was brutally assaulted by a familiar screech.
“Da-Ge! Please have mercy!” Long bangs flew up and down as their owner was on the verge of (already was) crying. “ I didn’t even fail that badly last year!”
Lan Xichen who was by her side chuckled fondly at the sight of the young Nie heir and his older brother, Nie Mingjue climbing up the staircase, the latter intent on staring in front and ignoring the younger. When Nie Mingjue spotted her brother, she could watch as the two age back into fresh young youths with no responsibility as he waved, a visible change in pace as he approached them.
“Xichen!”
“Da-Ge,” Lan Xichen greeted and met him halfway. The two began to talk, one loudly mentioning the beasts he had slain on the borders of Qinghe and the other inviting them to listen to a composition he had made some time.
“Thank you once again for accepting Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue glanced at the boy from the corner of his eyes. “Maybe another year will finally knock some sense into him.”
He laughed, “No need to scold him, you know the youth are always rambunctious.”
Nie Mingjue scoffed with a smile and they continued their conversation. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji continued to gesture on where the servants carrying the luggage were to go before she noticed the shivering form next to her. With a thin, mousy face and long bangs that almost covered his eyes, Nie Huaisang appeared nearly half a head shorter than her despite being one year older. That was likely only because the boy was pretending to be on the verge of passing out and was slouching so horribly that Shufu would certainly pass out.
“Wangji!” He called out as he weakly fanned himself. “Please tell Da-Ge I wasn't that bad! You saw me study hard, didn’t you?”
The two older brothers turned expectantly to her. She looked away. Nie Huaisang returned to sobbing.
“You traitor…”
All of Nie Huaisang’s luggage and robes were stored into his room along with four other Nie disciples who would also be studying with him. Her brother offered Nie Mingjue to rest the night, but he refused on account that Nie Huaisang would somehow smuggle himself along if they waited too long. The Nie delegation left and after excusing herself, Lan Wangji was able to return to the female section of Cloud Recesses.
Not many Sects brought female disciples, some were shocked that her sect had any, but if her uncle’s words were correct then they would be expecting at least twenty female disciples to be staying with them for the next few months. Rooms were prepared for each group—one for the BalingOuyang, one for the LanlingJins, three for YunmengJiang, two for the QingheNie, and the rest a part of the other minor Sects.
One of her juniors asked for her assistance to renew the heating talismans, so the next Shichen was spent testing and writing new ones to ensure no incidents would occur. Later, she went out to check the barrier’s strength, which was not in perfect condition. If an intruder were to re-write a particular radical in the hidden tailsmans, then they would only be able to enter if they used the right amount of spiritual energy—one that few had enough on standby to even use. It was only because of that last detail she allowed herself to leave and head back inside. She would require more time to correct that one, and time was sadly limited. During her quick look around the wall, more sects had clearly arrived. One was, however, still waiting at the gate.
“Oh, come on! Just let us in, you clearly already know it’s us!” A boy in dark purple robes led the group, standing off against her junior.
“We cannot allow visitors in without proper identification or invitation. Apologies.”
“We have my father’s seal right here!”
“Rules require all visitors or guests to come bearing either an invitation or official written permission. We cannot allow you in.”
Lan Wangji knew that outside sects did not follow nor understand the importance of her home’s rules, so the continuation of the conversation was not unexpected.
“Oh, come on! Look at the time, it’s already almost sundown, just let us in and we’ll get you your invitation tomorrow."
“No invitation, no entry.”
“Why can’t you understand—!”
Lan Wangji walked towards the entrance, ignoring the weight of gazes that fell on her back. Her junior saw her and moved to the side to allow her to pass with a quick nod of respect. She was about to enter back inside when the group began to yell out to her.
“Wait, that’s Lan-Guniang!”
“Quick! Maybe she’ll understand us!”
There was a shuffle of grass behind. She turned and saw that walking towards her was the boy with the most detailed robes of the bunch and the familiar sight of a noble heir’s Guan rested in his topknot, a permanent furrow to his eyebrows despite his attempt at neutrality—This was Jiang Wanyin, heir to the YunmengJiang Sect.
“Jiang-Gongzi.”
“Lan-Guniang, greetings,” he said back. “Apologies for the scene.”
She did not reply. Jiang Wanyin’s kept the furrow of his brows from becoming too noticeable.
“Well, you recognise me and my party, but you see we faced an… issue.” He clearly glared at a member of the group she could not see. “… and as such we do not have our invitation with us. We travelled so far, so perhaps you could tell your junior here to let us pass?”
Before any look of hope could form any of the group’s eyes, she shook her head, “Rules are rules. We cannot allow outsiders in without a pass. Return tomorrow with it.”
His face tensed and she prepared herself for any words he could throw at her, but a hand grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him back. When he turned, the flames building in his eyes were put out and replaced with only a slight annoyance. He whispered, loudly, and seemingly was about to return to yelling at her before he was dragged back to the rest of the group and a figure stepped in front as a representative instead.
Lan Wangji saw a girl her age smiling softly, her robes of good quality and detailed with flowers at the ends. She was not an outer disciple, that was clear with the look of deference the others gave as she passed. Her tanned skin was lightened and painted on with fine makeup that highlighted her silver eyes. When she bowed, she pressed her hands together as she stood back up looking as if she was offering a prayer.
“Lan-Guniang, greetings. This humble Wuxian asks if you could spare mercy for our group.” Her voice was without critique in its cadence and swiftness, flowing easily without hesitation. “Rules exist of course, but shouldn’t also lenience?”.
So this was Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji took note of her polite demeanour. Perhaps when this matter would be settled, the YunmengJiang delegation would prove to not be too troublesome if this was their Head Disciple—ignoring their initial arrival. However, for now, she stuck firm to her ground.
“The rules are clear.”
“But the rules likely weren’t made with this scenario in mind. My sect has travelled all the way from Yunmeng to here in Gusu, and we were unable to get any rooms at Caiyi town. Could we not be given an exemption for our situation?”
Lan Wangji continued to shake her head, “Exceptions can not exist.”
“Forgive me for my curiosity Lan-Guniang, but may I ask why not?” Her smile became less soft. “You recognise and can verify who we are, so why not let us in?”
“Your invitation is needed. No exceptions.”
“Accidents are human in nature, no one is perfect. Mistakes happen, and they happen now.”
Irritation was forbidden in Cloud Recesses, but Lan Wangji began to have a troublesome revelation. She now knew what it was, and she felt far too deeply at that moment. Before she could respond or leave, the Head disciple spoke again.
“Is it not wrong to be cruel to the weak and needy? All we ask is some pity for our unfortunate circumstances.”
Those words made her pause, a hesitation filling her now. Her junior was close by, mouth agape at the scene of disrespect and stubbornness he was witnessing. The Jiang disciples acted as if the sun had risen for them alone. Even Jiang Wanyin seemed proud. Lan Wangji narrowed her eyes once more, burying any mess in her body or mind under the logic of her Sect’s teachings that the other girl was ignoring.
“We do not allow exceptions.”
Wei Wuxian tilted her head as if she was putting the pieces of a puzzle together in her mind, but before the final image could be completed, Lan Wangji turned and returned inside. There were noises of protest, but they died down as that soft voice from earlier chided them. She couldn’t hear it as she moved further away. Clearly exhausted from her efforts outside, she slowed her pace.
It was time to report back to her brother about the affairs of today, but when she entered his office, the door slid closed with a loud slamming noise. She blinked. That had never happened before. Fortunately, Lan Xichen only chuckled and made sure she wasn’t hurt.
“Why were you in such a rush, Wangji? Did something happen outside?” He made a move to stand, but she shook her head. He sat back down properly, and she joined him.
“The YunmengJiang has arrived, but they left their invitation behind somewhere,” she said.
Lan Xichen gave a pity filled sigh, “Then they will have to return by tomorrow with it.”
She tightened her fists before glancing to the side, “Xiongzhang, could… we allow them in regardless?”
He looked up with a curious look in his eyes. She did not reciprocate the action. “Are you certain of this?”
“Yes, Xiongzhang. I ask only that of you.”
Lan Xichen stared at her, his eyes asking for more answers without any sense of pushing or force. If she refused to speak now, he never would make her feel lesser for it and would leave the matter behind in the dust. That was the only reason the words spilled out of her mouth.
“Their Head disciple reasoned with me on their behalf.”
“And you believe her?”
She did not continue. He gave her a nod and said that he would go ahead and welcome them in himself. Satisfied, she thanked him and left to complete the rest of her duties. Later, when she met her brother once again, she was told by him that the YunmengJiang head disciple had run back down the mountain to fetch the invitation as she was the only one who knew where they had left it.
They would have to meet again later, she realized.
***<Five Days after Start of Lectures>***
The day was in perfect equilibrium—not too hot nor too cold and not too busy nor too aimless in nature. Shufu had allowed the day to be used by the disciples as a day to either complete their assignments or to study in the library for their first trial examination in three weeks. The disciples were outside, talking and eating with one even opening sleeping on the bench. Their name and Sect were noted.
Lan Wangji was on the second floor of one of the buildings, sitting in the study room overlooking one of the many gardens, her calligraphy set up before her. She could see some female disciples resting with baskets of treats and books as they talked to one another with large smiles.
In the very corner of the garden she could see a group of ladies childishly showing off their white robes with colour detailing to separate them by their Sect. She couldn’t understand it. Clothing was clothing—such a mentality was a basic of her clan’s principles, the idea of showing off using one’s clothing was a concept she could not fathom. One of the ladies looked up and spotted her, the rest of her group turning with her. She immediately turned. No point in wasting her time even more. As she was moving away from the window, the faintest echo was heard from outside.
“Morning ladies.”
Lan Wangji stopped in her tracks.
“—You’re here!”
“How are you—”
“—so pretty—”
The other ladies’ voices faded off, the exact words they were saying were unimportant as her body moved without her will. She looked down once again, golden eyes widening as they spotted her.
Standing beneath the shade of the loquat trees was a girl who harnessed the sun and its glow into a smile easily shared as she took in the attention of the others with the ease of a performer. One of the loquats broke off from the tree above and was about to fall on the head of another lady before the girl caught it in time with a masterful spin, wiped it with her sleeve, and presented it to said lady with a bow and a smirk. A reddish-hue coloured the lady’s face and she said something that made the girl giggle softly.
The group of ladies invited her into their group and they all sat at the bench, their hands placed on their laps as they talked, hiding their faces with fans and sleeves. The girl did the same as they did, blending in perfectly. Lan Wangji’s blood boiled. This was outrageous. This was disrespectful. This was wrong. The girl was lying at that very moment and no one else knew it. However, her rightful displeasure at the blatant fraud was halted by the eyes that met hers. Silver clashed with gold, the moon’s ice opposed the warmth of the sun, and a poised expression faced with a grinning challenge. Her arm was drawn up like a puppet’s limb.
“Lan-Guniang, pleasure seeing you!”
The YunmengJiang’s Head disciple, Wei Wuxian, was a liar and no one else knew it.
***<Before, Night of YunmengJiang Arrival>***
The YunmengJiang head disciples still hadn’t yet returned by the time the moon awakened, and there were no more traces of her than there were traces of the then set sun.
Jiang Wanyin was adamant on hunting her down, even putting one of the other disciples to be in charge while he left, but he stopped himself at the reminder of the curfew by the other disciples. Their arrival alone caused great stress, leaving after curfew would only worsen matters more. Attempting to soothe the stressed heir, Lan Xichen said they would give the patrolling guards orders to let her back in when she returns and even allowed the Jiang delegation more time to stay awake to allow them to wait for their missing member.
It was only a coincidence that night Lan Wangji was chosen for patrol, her first after months in seclusion. Memory of the demure and polite lady with tanned skin was buried under more prioritised matters of her duties. As such, when she heard scratching and footsteps at the walls, she rushed in ready to face off with an intruder. She did not expect to see a figure with two large jars of wine tied at her waist, another in her hand while the other was busy brushing off dirt from her lower robes—a figure with a face that was now rid of painted rogue, only a faint smudge indicating their former presence.
“These Lan patrollers are so easy to trick!” The figure—grinnng proudly not shyly—said. “Nothing on Yizhu and Jinzhu. Maybe it won’t be so bad here!”
Lan Wangji was unsure what her ears were hearing. The face which was now connecting with a name and identity in her mind was associated with a specific voice, light and soft—things the person before her was not. Even the way she dressed was foreign in memory with loose fabrics replaced with form fitting ones suited for sparring. Reminding herself of her duty, Lan Wangji prepared her sword and words before leaping onto the rooftop.
“Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses. Entering and trespassing is also forbidden. Leave and return in the morning to receive your punishment.”
The figure looked up and her mouth opened ever so slightly, her stance becoming like a puppet whose master was now relaxing.
“Oh.” She blinked. “You caught me.”
“Remove yourself from the—“
There was a blur of colour. Then there was a large toothy grin right beside her face. Lan Wangji leapt back and brought out Bichen, striking. A shattering noise echoed in her ears and liquid suddenly rained on her feet. When she looked down, the helm of her robes were stained red with a potent fruity smell and clay shards were scattered on the rooftop like snow. A small distance away, that figure stood, still grinning madly. She laughed.
Her laugh. She did not hide her mouth or teeth with her sleeves, nor shyly look away. No, she leaned backwards, slapping her thigh and breathing loudly as if she were a man forced to dress like a woman. A horse would’ve believed she were its kin with the way her ponytail swayed back and forth wildly, almost as if charging into battle or marching proudly at a parade.
Any trace of that polite lady she met at the gate was gone, only smudges of rubbed off makeup indicating she ever existed. Her eyes opened and she spoke.
“Apologies, Lan-Guniang!” She bowed, like a man, and looked at her as if her sudden burst of insanity shouldn’t cause Lan Wangji’s heart to be racing so fiercely. “It’s just, I never expected the first person to catch me like this would be you of all people! Perhaps, we should re-do our meeting from earlier!”
Lan Wangji was speechless.
“Courtesy name, Wei Wuxian, birth name, Wei Ying.” The mad woman standing on the rooftop with shards of a wine bottle at her feet and the light of the moon above said as she stared at her. She lifted the other jug of wine Lan Wangji hadn’t struck as if it was an offering. “Wish to share with a fellow pretender?”