Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian feels it in his chest before anything happens.
It’s a tightness, sharp and sudden, like his heart is warning him before his mind catches up.
The forest looks the same as it did a moment ago—trees dark and tall, moonlight broken into pieces through the leaves—but something is wrong.
The air feels heavy.
Too still.
He glances at Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji is walking beside him, white robes brushing softly against the grass, face calm, eyes forward. He looks untouchable like this, like nothing bad could ever reach him.
Wei Wuxian swallows.
“Lan Zhan,” he says, trying to sound casual even though his voice comes out a little tight. “You don’t think this night hunt is weird?”
Lan Wangji slows.
That alone makes Wei Wuxian’s heart start pounding.
“…Yes,” Lan Wangji says.
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to joke, to laugh it off like he always does—
The silence shatters.
A sharp, awful sound rips through the forest, vibrating through Wei Wuxian’s bones.
His head rings, spiritual sense flaring painfully as resentful energy floods the area.
“There!” Wei Wuxian shouts.
Lan Wangji moves instantly.
“Stay behind me.”
“Lan Zhan—!”
Too late.
Lan Wangji steps in front of him, barrier forming as Bichen flashes into his hand. The resentful spirit surges out of the darkness, its shape twisted and unstable, rage rolling off it in suffocating waves.
Wei Wuxian reaches for talismans, heart racing. “Okay, okay, we’ve got this—”
Then the spirit changes.
Its energy folds in on itself, condensing instead of spreading.
Wei Wuxian’s stomach drops.
“Lan Zhan, move—!”
Lan Wangji turns to adjust the barrier—
It cracks.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
The impact hits Lan Wangji squarely.
Wei Wuxian hears him gasp.
“No!”
Wei Wuxian catches him as he falls, arms locking around his shoulders as they both collapse to the ground.
The weight of him knocks the breath from Wei Wuxian’s lungs.
“Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan—hey—look at me—”
Lan Wangji’s breathing is uneven. His spiritual energy is flickering, slipping through Wei Wuxian’s senses like it won’t stay put.
Wei Wuxian presses his hand to Lan Wangji’s chest, panic flooding him. “Wait—wait, don’t do this, okay? I can fix this. I always fix things.”
His hands are shaking too much. He forces more spiritual energy forward, desperate, reckless.
“Stay awake,” he begs. “Please. Just stay awake.”
Lan Wangji opens his eyes.
They’re clear.
And soft.
Wei Wuxian’s vision blurs instantly.
“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re scaring me.”
Lan Wangji lifts his hand slowly, like it takes everything he has. His fingers curl weakly into Wei Wuxian’s sleeve, clutching it tight.
“Wei… Ying.”
Wei Wuxian breaks at the sound of his name.
“I’m here!,” he chokes. “I’m right here! You don’t get to leave, do you hear me!!”
Lan Wangji swallows. His voice is quiet, strained.
“Listen… to me.”
Wei Wuxian presses his forehead against Lan Wangji’s, tears spilling freely now. “I-I am listening. I’m listening. Just—just breathe. Please.”
Lan Wangji exhales shakily.
“You did… nothing wrong.”
Wei Wuxian shakes his head violently. “Don’t say that. Don’t say things like that.”
Lan Wangji’s grip tightens for just a second.
“Live,” he whispers. “And… don’t blame yourself.”
“No,” Wei Wuxian sobs. “Lan Zhan, please—please don’t say goodbye—”
Lan Wangji’s breath leaves him.
He doesn’t take another.
For a second, Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand.
He just waits, still holding him, still pushing spiritual energy into him like that alone can force the world to behave.
“Lan Zhan?” he whispers.
Nothing.
His chest caves in.
A broken sound tears out of him, raw and helpless.
He clutches Lan Wangji tightly, rocking forward, tears soaking into white robes that will never move again.
“I’m sorry,” he cries. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—I should’ve moved faster—I should’ve seen it—”
The resentful spirit drifts closer, feeding on his grief.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t look up.
He doesn’t care.
The spirit strikes again.
Wei Wuxian lets it.
Pain.
Then—
Cold.
Wei Wuxian wakes up gasping, chest burning, throat raw like he’s been screaming for hours.
Something hits his side.
“Get up!”
He cries out as he rolls over, body aching in a way that feels wrong, unfamiliar. His limbs don’t move right.
Another shove.
“Don’t lie there.”
Wei Wuxian looks down—
And freezes.
His hands are small.
Too small.
Scraped and dirty, trembling badly.
“No,” he whispers, terror creeping in. “No, no—”
“Your parents aren’t coming back,” someone says flatly. “They went on a night hunt. We waited long enough.”
Parents.
Night hunt.
Didn’t come back.
The words slam into him, fitting too perfectly into memories he never forgot.
Five years old.
This moment.
Lan Wangji’s last words echo in his head.
Live.
Wei Wuxian’s chest tightens painfully.
“I’ll be good,” he sobs, voice thin and broken. “Please—I won’t eat much—I promise—”
The door slams shut.
The sound makes him flinch hard.
Wei Wuxian sits in the dirt, knees pulled tight to his chest, crying quietly until his throat hurts too much to make sound anymore.
He remembers everything.
His Lan Zhan’s face.
His Lan Zhan’s voice.
His Lan Zhan dying in his arms.
“This time,” he whispers hoarsely, tears dripping onto the ground, “I won’t let you die.”
The night stays silent.
But Wei Wuxian stays awake, staring at the closed door, heart shattered and burning all at once.