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Wei Wuxian let out a moan. “Ohhh~~~ that feels so good~~~!”
Lan Wangji immediately removed his hand. As a reanimated corpse, he couldn’t feel temperature anymore, but his palm felt like it was burned.
“Nooo, Lan Zhan! Touch me again, please!” whined Wei Wuxian, grabbing blindly for his hand.
Lan Wangji fought an intense internal battle in the space of a few heartbeats (this is Wei Wuxian’s very rapid heartbeats – since fierce corpse Lan Wangji had none). He knew this was wrong. It was… transgressive, to be touching him like this, even if his only intent was to help. Lan Wangji had vowed to be a loyal, respectful bodyguard who cared for the wellbeing of his master, not a pervert who would take advantage of a weakened and ill man. He should resist. He knew he should. He must!
“Please Lan Zhan, please~~~!” Wei Wuxian was almost sobbing now, begging for him to put his cold hand back on his feverish forehead. Even though the necromancer did not use any power in those words to compel him, Lan Wangji felt it difficult to deny his beloved what little relief he could offer.
Slowly, gingerly, Lan Wangji rested his right hand over Wei Wuxian’s burning hot forehead once more.
“Aaaah that’s amazing~~~! Soooo goooood!” Wei Wuxian gushed. He sighed and closed his eyes. His face relaxed, and his whole body started easing into sleep.
Lan Wangji waited a little while, then, estimating that his right hand must’ve become too warmbased on the way Wei Wuxian started squirming, he switched to his left hand. Wei Wuxian sighed happily in his sleep as this cool touch eased the pounding pain in his head.
Lan Wangji pressed his warmed right hand to his hollow chest, as though trying to transfer that warmth to his damaged heart. He counted silently and reached 36 when Wei Wuxian started shifting uncomfortably again. The sentient fierce corpse made a note of that number and switched hands every time he reached 30. With his free hand, he gently smoothed Wei Wuxian’s tangled hair and tucked the blanket more securely around his shivering body. He even dared, every now and then, to rest his cool hand on Wei Wuxian’s neck instead of his forehead, cooling the blood that flowed to and from his head. This location allowed him to feel Wei Wuxian’s pulse, reassuring Lan Wangji that his Wei Ying still lived – as if the sound of quick rasping breaths were not enough to ease his fears.
Under such gentle ministrations, Wei Wuxian finally fell into slumber – still a fever-addled sleep, judging by the rapid movements under his closed eyelids, but it was much better than his agitated tossing and cries of pain earlier. Lan Wangji knelt inside that small tent, so close to his beloved that he could lean down and kiss him – but he did not dare to cross that line again, not after that unforgivable transgression years ago at Baifeng Moutain. Instead, Lan Wangji focused on his duty and prepared to work through the whole night, keeping one of his cold corpse hands on Wei Wuxian’s feverish forehead or his neck, silently counting, before switching to the other hand. He kept one ear focused on Wei Wuxian’s breaths, listening for any changes in rhythm that may indicate a change in his condition. With his other ear he listened for sounds of approaching danger – footsteps, breaking twigs, voices… anything that indicated another human might be nearby. Wen Ning was outside standing guard, but he was still mindless and could only react on instinct. With Wei Wuxian in this state, unable to fight or to direct Wen Ning, it was up to Lan Wangji to make the critical decisions to keep them all safe.
The night was long. At some point, instead of counting numbers to know when to switch hands, Lan Wangji began to count measures of music, and then he began to think of Wangxian, the love song he composed in his youth, back when his heart had been full of both hope and self-doubt. The current Lan Wangji did not have a voice or a guqin, and his hopes of love had been dashed more than a decade ago. But he could imagine the sensation of his fingers gliding across familiar strings and play the song on an endless loop in his mind. After every repeat of the song, he would gently wipe away the sweat on Wei Wuxian’s face and neck with a damp cloth and try to coax Wei Wuxian to sip some water. After every two repeats, he would dare to caress Wei Wuxian’s face and his hair, memorising every bone and curve of his new body. At some point, Wei Wuxian rolled over and started using Lan Wangji thighs as a pillow, murmuring something about nice pillows that stayed cold all the time. Lan Wangji held very, very still, and tried to remember the last time he was in this position – in the Xuanwu Cave, when he thought that they would both die without rescue. At that time, the younger and alive Lan Wangji could transfer spiritual energy to Wei Wuxian, but now, as a moving corpse…
Lan Wangji shook his head and refocused his mind on his task, refusing to lose himself in those memories. If providing physical comfort was all he could do right now for his beloved, then that was what he would do for the whole night and through the entirety of the next day and all the days after. Lan Wangji will be diligent and tireless in his devotion.
It hadn’t even been a month since the Dafan Mountain Incident, and news of the Yiling Laozu stealing away Hanguang-jun’s corpse had spread like wildfire amongst the civilians. So many commoners revered the illustrious Hanguang-jun during his short life, of course they were all interested in this juicy and frightening gossip. The rumours claimed that the Yiling Laozu had returned through nefarious means then summoned a horrible monster to kill his arch nemesis the righteous Hanguang-jun. He was then said to have enslaved Lan Wangji’s soul in his reanimated corpse, puppeteering him to attack the cultivator clans to flaunt his power. The epic battle at Dafan Mountain was said to have killed hundreds and injured hundreds more, though some claimed much worse – that it was a massacre on the scale of Nightless City thirteen years ago. Amongst the maimed were the leaders of several clans, including the Yunmeng Jiang’s Sandu Shengshou and the Gusu Lan’s Zewu-jun.
A few less kind rumours said that Lianfang-zun, the Chief Cultivator and leader of the Lanling Jin Clan Leader, had orchestrated this whole affair. He was said to have sacrificed his own half-brother – another of Jin Guangshan’s bastard children – in some dark ritual to summon the Yiling Laozu. Because of this ritual, he has some sort of control over the Yiling Laozu, whose soul was trapped inside his half-brother’s body – or they say. Others claimed that Jin Guangyao underestimated how powerful the Yiling Laozu was and he lost control once he completed the sacrifice ritual. Of course, there were many supporters of Jin Guangyao too - particularly the commoners who have benefited from his watchtowers. They said that his enemies used his disgraced half-brother Mo Xuanyu to blacken his name by association. In any case, the central theme of this type of rumour was that Jin Guangyao used this opportunity to weaken the other clans and further solidify his power as Chief Cultivator. This particular strain of shady gossip was usually followed by a string of insults, of which ‘son of a whore’ featured prominently.
Wei Wuxian would laugh whenever he heard these outlandish stories. He made it a hobby to ask about it at every teashop and farmhouse they visited (which were fortunately not frequent, given they were fugitives on the run). Lan Wangji was significantly less amused, but since he was currently mute, he was unable to stop Wei Wuxian from asking.
Wei Wuxian’s incessant probing did establish one thing. All the gentry cultivator clans were now united against the Yiling Laozu (or so it seemed to these commoners), vowing to do their utmost to capture and neutralise this threat to the world at large. Along with that, public fear of heretical cultivators was also climbing towards an all-time high. Everyone who has ever tried to use a talisman was now suspect. For Wei Wuxian and his two fierce corpse companions, there was no safe haven for them to go, no corner of the Jianghu where they could hide for long.
That town they had stopped in most recently had initially appeared safe – an impoverished place on the borders between major territories where the people were focused on survival more than gossip. The trio had arrived in disguise: both fierce corpses wearing weimao and long grey robes to hide their pallid skin, Lan Wangji with straw and cloth stuffed down the front of his robes to camouflage the concave shape of his chest, and Wei Wuxian spinning a tall tale about a hermit cultivator sect that prohibited speaking as part of their ascetic cultivation. Somehow this, combined with paying slightly above market rates, convinced the small-town inn owner not to ask too many questions. Wei Wuxian finally received that hot meal and long soak in the bath that he so desperately craved, and he even drank two whole jars of local wine.
(He did offer Lan Wangji some, but Lan Wangji could not swallow because his oesophagus was damaged, so he had merely tasted the alcohol on his tongue and left it at that.)
(Wei Wuxian later drank Lan Wangji’s unfinished cup of wine, putting his lips on the edge where Lan Wangji’s lips had touched – an indirect kiss. Lan Wangji had tried very hard not to attribute any meaning to this act, Wei Wuxian was simply enjoying good wine! They didn’t have much money left, so obviously he wouldn’t want a single drop to go to waste! But Lan Wangji could not help but feel secretly thrilled.)
Their lives had been leisurely for two beautiful precious days. They couldn’t stay much longer, since most of their funds had been spent buying the new clothing needed for their disguises and they didn’t dare take on any high paying night hunts that might draw attention. But Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji fully enjoyed those days together, wandering through the town, shopping (mostly window shopping) and enjoying the sights of rural scenery.
On the third day, when a travelling merchant caravan came to town, Lan Wangji insisted on purchasing a red ribbon to brighten Wei Wuxian’s hair along with several hair oils and a special wide-toothed comb that the merchant claimed was specifically designed for curly hair. They never got the chance to use these haircare items, however. They were still browsing the market after making their purchases when the town was suddenly swarmed by Yunmeng Jiang disciples on horseback. Worse, these purple-robed men and women had brought a pack of hunting dogs and released them on the town, causing chaos. Wei Wuxian panicked at the first bark and clung to Lan Wangji with white-knuckled hands, whimpering incoherently. Lan Wangji didn’t understand this reaction, but he knew it was nothing good. He had scooped Wei Wuxian up and sprinted away at top speed. Wei Wuxian was so frightened out of his wits that he even forgot to give Wen Ning instructions to flee! But luckily Wen Ning had enough instinctive sense to follow them. And equally fortunate, though this was by design and not luck, every morning they had made sure to pack all that they owned before leaving the inn room, so they did not lose anything important.
(As an aside, Wei Wuxian had solved the issue of storage space by carefully cutting the sleeves off Lan Wangji’s damaged Gusu Lan robes, preserving the sections of fabric with sewn-in qiankun pockets, and then twisting the white strips into a sash that Lan Wangji wore diagonally across his torso. This, along with the brown qiankun bag from Lan Sizhui, allowed them to easily carry everything they owned while still wearing plain civilian-made clothes. Using the leftover materials from those once-white robes, Wei Wuxian also fashioned a similar white sash for himself and Wen Ning, making it seem like some sort of uniform item from their imaginary aesthetic sect.)
Since that day, the fugitive trio had avoided all signs of civilisation and hid in the wilderness, travelling only at night, resting in the forest or in abandoned houses during the day. To throw off the scent trail for those dogs, they frequently walked through streams or along the shallows of rivers rather than on roads. They also avoided making campfires.
All this meant that Wei Wuxian spent some portion of every night damp, eating only cold foods, and sleeping irregular hours. It was no wonder then that Wei Wuxian soon fell sick.
That evening, they were following an overgrown animal trail, and Wei Wuxian was unnaturally quiet. Within a shichen he grew tired, his shoulders drooping and his steps stumbling. His whole body shook several times with violent shivers before he tripped on the uneven ground and his body folded up like a paperman trapped under a boot. Lan Wangji rushed forward, caught him by the back of his clothes and lowered him into his arms. Wei Wuxian tried to push him away, mumbling that he was fine, but his arms had no strength.
Wei Ying, you’re clearly ill!
Wei Wuxian’s breaths came in shallow gasps in between shivers so violent that his teeth were chattering. His normally quicksilver eyes were dull and glazed over.
Ignoring his master’s feeble protests, Lan Wangji carried Wei Wuxian in his arms and quickly found a spot to camp, setting up the tent for Wei Wuxian to rest in and covering it with foliage for disguise. He physically manoeuvred Wen Ning to a guarding position a short distance away – since he couldn’t give verbal commands and Wei Wuxian was too indisposed to provide any. Then Lan Wangji entered the tent and tried to tend to Wei Wuxian, coaxing him to sip water, to nibble at food, wrapping him up in all the blankets and spare clothes they owned to ease his shivering, cleaning up the vomit that came back up… All while despairing at the fact that they did not have any medicine.
The backup qiankun bag that Wei Wuxian carried was originally intended for Lan Sizhui, who formed a golden core at age thirteen and subsequently became immune to common illnesses like this, so there had not been any need to pack normal medicines for him. Back when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in that border town, they had walked past the local apothecary several times but neither thought to go inside. Both of them were once strong cultivators, unused to sickness, so neither had thought to pre-emptively purchase medicines.
Lan Wangji reprimanded himself for not anticipating this issue. What kind of bodyguard was he, if he couldn’t keep his master in good health? He had to do better than this. If Wei Ying died again… He didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know if he could continue to be the honourable and righteous Hanguang-jun, or if his resentment would take over and turn him into the monster in those tall tales told by the common folk.
By noon the next day, Wei Wuxian’s fever had faded, and he was able to eat a little without vomiting it all back up. He had absolutely no recollection of the previous night’s events, to Lan Wangji’s simultaneous relief and disappointment. It was yet another secret memory of intimacy that Lan Wangji hoarded away in his unbeating heart, to be treasured forever.
On a practical note, they needed to keep moving. The previous night they had originally planned to travel some distance upriver through the shallow water to erase traces of their scents, so now they decided to resume this journey. Lan Wangji packed up the tent while Wei Wuxian gave Wen Ning instructions to scout ahead. However, when it was time to depart, Lan Wangji refused to allow the clearly still ill Wei Wuxian to walk – especially not through the water. Instead, he crouched down and hoisted a protesting Wei Wuxian onto his back.
“Lan-er-gege… this is embarrassing! I’m not that sick, I can walk a little bit!” Wei Wuxian whined. His voice sounded nasally due to a blocked nose.
Lan Wangji did not give any reply, not only because he couldn’t, but also because he felt that his actions spoke loudly enough. He started walking and did not put Wei Wuxian down.
“I’m much better now – I can walk! I really can walk!” said Wei Wuxian right next to his ear. The tangled curls that had escaped his ponytail brushed against the side of Lan Wangji’s face. They did not have the time or the facilities at present to properly wash and treat the unruly hair that Wei Wuxian inherited from Mo Xuanyu, but at least he had tied it up using the red ribbon Lan Wangji purchased. It was far more presentable than the random strip of bandage cloth that Wei Wuxian used before.
Wei Wuxian, meanwhile, had not finished protesting the indignation of being carried like an invalid, though he did make an effort to keep his voice down. They were trekking through the river shallows, in the fading light of evening, and the danger of a being spotted by a flying cultivator patrol was high.
“What if we get caught Lan Zhan?” he whispered in Lan Wangji’s ear, sending shivers down his stiff spine. “You won’t be able to fight with your sword properly if you’re carrying me!”
Lan Wangji shook his head. It was a foolish thing to contemplate. If they were caught then of course Lan Wangji’s first strategy would be to flee. He may be stronger now than ever before, but he was also only one man (or fierce corpse, if you were a cultivator who did not consider dead men to be men). If they were surrounded by a large group like that contingent of Yunmeng Jiang disciples, then it would be difficult for Lan Wangji to fight their enemies while also protecting Wei Wuxian. If Wei Wuxian was incapacitated due to illness or paralysed by his inexplicable fear of dogs and became unable to direct Wen Ning or enhance Lan Wangji’s abilities, then… No, that outcome was completely unacceptable.
Remembering the issue with dogs, Lan Wangji had a question. He thought for a moment about how to ask – not the words, but the physical act of asking when he had no voice. Wei Wuxian currently had his arms wrapped around Lan Wangji’s neck, his chin was resting on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. Lan Wangji tapped one of Wei Wuxian’s hands for attention, then pulled that hand down to rest against the pillow of stuffed straw and cloth that filled the concavity of his crushed chest. On that hand, Lan Wangji wrote ‘Why fear dogs 为何怕狗’.
“Ah… that’s embarrassing!” Wei Wuxian buried his face in Lan Wangji’s shoulder for a moment, hiding his face even though it couldn’t be seen anyway at that angle. After a little while of muffled breathing, Wei Wuxian turned his face a little to the side and said to the air next to his shoulder, “When I was a child, before Jiang-shushu found me and brought me to Yunmeng, there was a time when I lived on the streets. I used to have to snatch food from wild dogs and they’d chase me and bite me. You’d think I’d stop being scared after I grew up. I got bigger and so much stronger! But – I’m still just as scared of them as I ever was. I hate it.”
If Lan Wangji could’ve taken a sharp breath at that moment, he would’ve. Instead he tried to pat Wei Wuxian’s hand, to convey his sympathy.
“Ah, it’s alright now. I just avoid them when I can. It’s not usually a problem! Although… I realise it’ll be a hindrance for us, especially if Yunmeng Jiang use dogs now. It’s gonna cost us more than just embarrassment if I freeze up or make a mistake!” Wei Wuxian buried his face in Lan Wangji’s shoulder again, groaning. “Ugh… This must be Jiang Cheng’s doing. He knows what I’m like with dogs – not many other people do! I mean who would believe it, right? The invincible Yiling Patriarch is afraid of the common canine, preposterous! But Jiang Cheng knows. He used to always keep dogs away from me. He promised he would always do that! But now… he’s obviously using this to try and sniff me out…”
Lan Wangji felt his hackles rise as he listened to this. That Jiang Wanyin – the hateful, cruel, vow-breaking brute who absolutely did not deserve to be the leader of a Major Clan (in Lan Wangji’s opinion). Lan Wangji swore that he would never allow that man near his Wei Ying again. The next time he saw him, he would do more than just break his bones and injure his disciples.
Wei Wuxian sensed his rising anger. He quickly said, “Lan Zhan, don’t be mad. It’s not something for you to worry about, okay? Jiang Cheng’s grudge is with me, so – if things get too dangerous – save yourself and leave me behind. This weak body of mine will only slow you down.”
Hearing those words made Lan Wangji’s heart ache. Even if this time there was no compulsion behind it, just words without power, they still hurt. Lan Wangji stopped walking for a moment, wanting to write on Wei Wuxian’s hand to ask him never to give such a command ever again, to tell Wei Wuxian directly and emphatically that Lan Wangji would never leave him no matter what. But Wei Wuxian misinterpreted his sudden stop. He slid down Lan Wangji’s back and landed in the calf-high water.
“Thanks Lan Zhan, I can walk on my own for a bit. Stretch my legs – it’s good for me!”
Lan Wangji shook his head. This was not what he wanted! Wei Ying was still sick, he shouldn’t be wading in the cold river and suffering with wet boots all night!
Wei Wuxian tried to walk around Lan Wangji to continue their trek, but the fierce corpse grabbed him around the waist, threw him over his shoulder, carried him to the shore to plonk him down on dry land. He then turned to scan the dark night sky, decided that it would be safer if they weren’t so exposed, and dragged Wei Wuxian behind a large bush.
“Ack – Lan Zhan what are you doing?!”
Lan Wangji put his index finger in front of Wei Wuxian’s lips to stop him from saying any more. Then he made Wei Wuxian sit down and he removed the other man’s soggy boots and socks.
“L-lan Zhan, are you seriously taking my clothes off…?”
Lan Wangji shot him a deadpan stare. As much as he wanted to undress Wei Wuxian and ravish him right here, that was definitely not what this was about. No, this was about having wet shoes and socks and – now that he felt around, he realised that the lower part of Wei Wuxian’s trousers were wet too. He tried to gesture at this – that Wei Wuxian needed to dry his shoes and trousers with his Warm Wind Talisman and stay out of the water.
“Lan Zhan what are you trying to say? It’s too dark, I can’t see you properly! Write on my hand, here.” Wei Wuxian extended his hand.
Lan Wangji became a little exasperated, but Wei Wuxian was right about it being too dark to use hand gestures. He caught Wei Wuxian’s hand and wrote on his palm. The words were succinct, but clearly intended as a lecture. After writing out all of his admonishments, Lan Wangji tapped several times on Wei Wuxian’s palm several times with his finger, for emphasis.
“Alright, alright, I get it Lan Zhan, I’ll be more careful with my health, I promise!” Wei Wuxian said, “I guess I do have some spare trousers and shoes, at least… Ah, it’s gonna be a bit hard to change in the dark! Let me go back out by the river – at least there will be a bit of starlight – will you keep a lookout Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji affirmed this. He had no plans to do otherwise. He stood on the river shore and stayed alert, eyes scanning in every direction and his back firmly towards Wei Wuxian. He tried hard to listen only for the sounds of approaching pursuers, and not for the rustle of clothing from the half-naked Wei Wuxian behind him.
After Wei Wuxian was done changing and had eaten a small snack, he was ready to depart again. Lan Wangji crouched down, preparing once again to carry him on his back. Wei Wuxian repeated his complaints about how embarrassing it was to be carried like a child, but he at least complained only quietly, by burying his face in Lan Wangji’s shoulder so that his words were muffled. After he expressed all of his lamentations about the demise of his dignity, Wei Wuxian whined about the unfairness of this whole situation – that they had finally found a nice peaceful town to rest for a while and it was all ruined so quickly. Then he theorised that perhaps their disguises weren’t good enough and someone had recognised them and tipped off the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Wei Wuxian decided out loud that he will have to rethink how to better hide their faces (perhaps makeup?) and somehow alter Lan Wangji’s impeccable posture, which was still distinctive despite his misshapen torso. How did one teach the prim and proper Lan Wangji to slouch? Has the man ever relaxed in his life? His back was like a wooden board, it was so rigid! But it was also surprisingly comfortable to lean on, Wei Wuxian decided. He was admittedly still somewhat sick, and the rocking effect of Lan Wangji’s steps made him sleepy. His thoughts began to drift… And somehow, not being able to see Lan Wangji’s face made it easier to confess certain things that he hadn’t dared to speak out loud before.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian murmured into his shoulder. “I hope I’m not being too much of a burden on you. I really wish I was stronger. I hate being weak! It’s horrible…”
Wei Wuxian stopped talking for a long time, and Lan Wangji thought that maybe he had fallen asleep. But then Wei Wuxian spoke again, very softly, right next to his ear.
“I don’t know how you’ve put up with me all this time. You… the you from before – you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me! It was always ‘shameless’ or ‘go away’ or ‘stop that’…”
Wei Wuxian stopped again, a depressing thought occurring to him.
“I wonder if maybe – if I’m influencing you somehow, because I wanted you to… acknowledge me…” Wei Wuxian stopped again, licking his dry lips and sniffling several times. Whether the sniffling was because of emotion, or because of his illness, even Wei Wuxian could not tell. He tried to open his mouth to say something – but then he would have second thoughts and stop himself. His stuffy nose and aching head really did not help with this problem of trying to find the right words. Eventually, Wei Wuxian said, “Lan Zhan… I really don’t know if this is really you – or – or if I’m somehow controlling you… If this isn’t what you want, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I don’t want to keep you here by force. I never want to control you again!”
Lan Wangji shook his head gently. ‘I am yours. You can command me if you wish,’ he tried to say, but Wei Wuxian could not see his mouth from this angle and did not realise he had said anything at all. Lan Wangji tapped his hand, wanting to write this on his palm, but Wei Wuxian didn’t give him the opportunity. He only tightened his hold around Lan Wangji’s neck.
“Just… let me say my piece first, please? If I don’t, I might become too cowardly to ever say it again.”
Lan Wangji nodded.
Wei Wuxian rested his forehead down on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and sighed. “Lan Zhan, however this turns out… I’ll always be grateful that you helped me. When Wen Ning is better and I’ve fixed your body, I’ll let you go, I promise. I’ll send you back to Gusu looking like the peerless and perfect Hanguang-jun again! Your beauty will be talked about for centuries!”
Wei Wuxian stopped for a moment, picturing the image of Lan Wangji standing on a rooftop, beneath a full moon, white robes flowing, white sword raised…
His blade pointing at Wei Wuxian’s throat, as he charged…
Wei Wuxian shuddered at that memory from his first life – it was the very last interaction with Lan Wangji that he remembered, fighting on that rooftop in Nightless City. He hated that memory, hated all of those months after it, so Wei Wuxian pushed the memories away, buried it deep in his heart so that it could only resurface during nightmares. He didn’t want to remember that particular Lan Wangji. But – wasn’t that the real Lan Wangji? How could they be called friends, when the last time they stood face-to-face they had tried to kill each other?
Wei Wuxian gulped, then sniffled as his nose threatened to spill a glob of snot onto Lan Wangji’s perfect back. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and then said, “Lan Zhan, I… I’m sorry for dragging you into this. Please just endure this for a little longer – and, please… please don’t hate me for being this weak. I really… It’s just been such a long time since anyone’s been this good to me, so I just – it’s hard to let go.”
He tightened his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck even more, clinging to him like a lifeline. It was a good thing that Lan Wangji did not need to breathe, or he’d be strangled by Wei Wuxian’s arms.
Wei Wuxian continued to whisper into his shoulder, “I know I have to let you go eventually. The dead aren’t meant to linger forever, and I’m sure you don’t actually want to stay.” Wei Wuxian sniffed again, then breathed out a deep sigh. “Everyone dies and has move on to their next life. I know that, but still I… I can’t let you go yet. Not until – not until after I’ve repaid you for your kindness. I promised to fix your body, so I will! I really will – when I get better.”
Wei Wuxian sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling deeply ashamed of his weakness. After another long silence with many difficult thoughts, Wei Wuxian finally said, “Thank you for looking after me, Lan Zhan, I’m sorry for doing this to you.”
Lan Wangji felt his heart twist with every word that Wei Wuxian said. And that last line – the very words that he hated the most to hear, coming from his beloved Wei Ying who thought of every act in debts and obligations. Lan Wangji hoped that this was just the illness addling Wei Wuxian’s normally sharp mind. That it didn’t mean what he feared – that Wei Ying distrusted him still, believing that Lan Wangji hated him. That Lan Wangji might still value his clan and his place in cultivation society more than him, and might choose to abandon him.
What status in society do I have now as a dead man? The only place I can exist is by your side.
But perhaps that was the problem. Because Lan Wangji had no other place to go apart from a coffin deep in the ground, he could only stay with Wei Wuxian. He had no other choice. Or at least that was what Wei Wuxian probably believed.
Lan Wangji stared at the starry sky as he trudged through the river shallows, his mind in turmoil. His thoughts kept circling back to this one salient point:
…I must prove myself to him. To make him trust that I want to be with him, that I would never leave.
Lan Wangji knew this wasn’t something that half a month or even a few months could solve. Wei Wuxian had suffered too much in his first life. And towards the end of it, Lan Wangji had taken Wei Wuxian back to the Burial Mounds and left him there, not returning until after his death. Lan Wangji had thought that Wei Wuxian would be safe there, with the people that he trusted and the immense power of the Burial Mounds to protect them. He didn't realise just how vulnerable Wei Wuxian was back then, until it was too late. With that as their final parting, it was no wonder that Wei Wuxian distrusted him. He would no doubt need a long time to trust that Lan Wangji was truly devoted to him.
The sentient fierce corpse kept trekking through the river. Wei Wuxian did not say any more. His exhaustion from illness finally catching up with him. Lan Wangji distinctively felt the moment when Wei Wuxian fell asleep. It was as though his body suddenly doubled in weight (which was of course physically impossible, though it may not be such a bad thing for him to put some muscle and fat onto Mo Xuanyu’s too-visible bones). Wei Wuxian had relaxed completely and was no longer holding on, which was why he felt heavier.
Lan Wangji stopped walking for a moment to adjust his hold of Wei Wuxian’s legs and shift his weight to make him easier to carry. Then Lan Wangji simply listened, taking in the sounds of the precious breaths and gentle snorts that Wei Wuxian made in his sleep, so close to his ear. This was another memory that he tucked away. Something to revisit in these long days and nights with no sleep, with no reprieve from his own thoughts. Lan Wangji did not know how many more days and nights he and his beloved had together, surviving as fugitives like this. It will become especially difficult once summer turned to autumn and then to winter. But he knew, no matter how difficult the road ahead became, he will always wish to be by his beloved Wei Ying’s side.
He only hoped that Wei Ying would allow him to remain.