Chapter Text
As soon as Lan Wangji returned to the Cloud Recesses, he raced to the medical pavilion. While Lan Wangji knew in his bones that he would never recover from Wei Wuxian’s death, he was hopelessly clinging to the thought of keeping this boy that meant so much to him close.
Lan Wangji had left him in the care of the Lan healers in a flurry of white robes and desperation before flying off to find Wei Wuxian in an attempt to defend him, only to arrive too late. The weight of his loss was heavy on his shoulders as he trudged to A-Yuan’s assigned medical cot, but he was relieved nearly to the point of tears that A-Yuan seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
Lan Xichen jumped to his feet from where he was sitting next to A-Yuan’s bedside as soon as he caught sight of him.
“Wangji, tell me the rumors are false. You didn’t go up against the Lan Elders, did you?”
Lan Wangji barely glanced at Lan Xichen before avoiding his gaze completely, giving himself away.
“Wangji.” Lan Xichen’s voice cracked in anguish around the name. “Your punishment…”
“Will be decided when A-Yuan is recovered. Uncle is going to stall them.” Lan Wangji said tightly, sitting on A-Yuan’s other side and placing a gentle hand on his sweaty forehead. He knew it was pointless to hide the arms of his robes, stained heavily with Wei Wuxian’s blood, from his brother’s searching gaze.
Lan Xichen heaved a great sigh and mercifully followed Lan Wangji’s lead to save that conversation for another time. He sat back down.
“Healer Yue says A-Yuan is looking much better. He has woken up a few times, but only long enough to drink some water and ask a few questions.”
Lan Wangji nodded absently, staring at A-Yuan’s sleeping face. “He looks better. Peaceful.”
Lan Xichen agreed. “Healer Yue said that once he wakes up and can stay awake for a few hours, he can leave the medical pavilion. Where will he stay after that, Wangji?”
Lan Xichen may have expected him to be stumped by the question, caught off guard by the fact that he didn’t fully think this through. Lan Wangji, however, could tell he surprised him when he looked up and made direct eye contact with him to declare: “He will live with me. In the Jingshi.”
Lan Wangji was sure his brother didn’t have enough oxygen stored within him to sigh as much as he had been recently, but he managed yet another one in exasperation this time.
“Wangji. What is your plan? You’re going to raise this Wen boy?”
“I will adopt him. He will become a Lan to avoid prejudice of the Wen name.” Lan Wangji was still avoiding his gaze, but his voice was determined.
“Just like that, you’re becoming a father? Wangji, please think this through. He will be well looked after at the children’s home.”
“No.” Lan Wangji snapped, finally looking at Lan Xichen with a stubborn expression that Lan Xichen had grown very familiar with. “I will raise him myself.” It is what Wei Ying would have preferred.
Lan Xichen, known for his patience, was being pushed to his limits. “What of your punishment, Wangji? I heard what you did. That’s nothing short of the disciple whip, and who knows how many-!” His voice broke at the thought of his brother under the pain he had witnessed that tool inflict. “Wangji,” He started over, “You will be injured, and need time alone to recover. You may even be banished to some time in seclusion. A-Yuan needs someone to look after him constantly, even once he’s no longer sick. He’s too young, he can’t be more than four years old now.”
Lan Wangji deflated a little and his frown deepened. Some of Lan Xichen’s argument finally got through to him. “I see.” He conceded. “I will wait for my punishment to be decided, then I will talk to Uncle about arrangements for A-Yuan while I recover.”
There was silence between them for a few moments as Lan Xichen tried to wrap his mind around this new information and drastic turn of events.
“Wangji.” Lan Xichen started after some time. Lan Wangji, who hadn’t taken his eyes off A-Yuan’s sleeping face for more than a few seconds since arriving, looked up at him. “Of course you can count on me to help look after A-Yuan.”
Lan Wangji gave him a long stare before responding, trying to decide his response. “Do not feel obligated.”
Lan Xichen was already shaking his head. “No, Wangji, there is no obligation. I want to help. I should have helped more before…” He trailed off, unable to acknowledge the tragedy Lan Wangji just returned from witnessing. He cleared his throat. “I would be honored to help watch over my new nephew.”
The tense lines of Lan Wangji’s face softened in relief. His shoulders fell, giving away how truly exhausted and devastated he was. He gave a small bow towards Lan Xichen in his seat, who looked mildly alarmed at the tears he saw in his younger brother's eyes. “Thank you, Ge.”
— — — — — —
Lan Wangji struggled to believe what his life had become the seven days following the First Siege of the Burial Mounds. A-Yuan was declared healthy enough to leave the medical pavilion on day five, so long as Lan Wangji followed Healer Yue’s strict instructions for helping A-Yuan regain his strength at the Jingshi, his new home. A-Yuan was awake for several hours at a time now and able to eat simple foods like congee, but his memory was clearly affected.
The first few times he woke up, he did not remember Lan Wangji but clearly recognized him in some capacity, seeking him out for comfort in an unknown environment. Lan Wangji was always quick to remind him that his name was A-Yuan, that he was sick right now, but he was in a safe place, which seemed to be enough reassurance for the boy for now, as he didn’t ask many follow up questions before wanting food or falling back asleep.
While A-Yuan slept, Lan Wangji was busy officially adopting the boy, which was somehow both surreal and anticlimactic, given that the boy does not have any legal guardians or identification to include in the process. Uncle spent the first few nights trying to talk Lan Wangji out of his decision, going so far as to invite the head of the children’s home to visit the medical pavilion to meet A-Yuan, but gave up after his first interaction with an awake and alert A-Yuan, who smiled shyly at Uncle and offered to share some congee with him. Lan Wangji could tell he was charmed by the boy and subsequently never heard from Uncle about the children’s home again.
With the help of Uncle, the adoption paperwork was simple and included a name change so that A-Yuan’s Wen heritage could remain private while he grew up in Gusu. The story being told moving forward would be that Lan Wangji rescued an orphan cultivator found somewhere on the streets of a smaller Gusu town while he was there on a nighthunt. While the story was flimsy, it was against Lan rules to gossip, so Lan Wangji had to trust that A-Yuan wouldn’t be questioned too heavily by other clan members.
Lan Wangji knew that he had held affection for A-Yuan as soon as he met him the first time with Wei Wuxian at the Burial Mounds, but seeing his name listed as ‘father and legal guardian’ on the boy’s new paperwork was tugging at a part of his heart that he thought would never be revived after losing Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji couldn’t help but imagine his reaction to learning of his new title.
“You, Lan Zhan? A father? Have you started making him memorize the rules yet or is that how you will celebrate his fifth birthday?”
Lan Wangji has to stop his thoughts abruptly before he falls too deep into his grief, but he tells himself that Wei Wuxian would at least be pleased to know A-Yuan is safe and being cared for, even if he was to be raised in Gusu, certainly one of Wei Wuxian’s least favorite places.
Lan Wangji’s punishment of 33 strikes from the disciple whip was decided and expected to happen approximately ten days after Healer Yue reported to the Lan Elders that A-Yuan was fully healed. Now that A-Yuan is able to live outside of the medical pavilion, Lan Wangji knew that uninterrupted time to bond with A-Yuan was coming to a close.
One week after A-Yuan had been released from the medical pavilion to finish his recovery, Lan Wangji was basking in the last few days he had to spend with A-Yuan. Healer Yue was regretful to inform Lan Wangji that she spoke with the Elders, and they had decided he was healed enough to begin the countdown towards his punishment.
Now that A-Yuan was sleeping regularly and started to regain his strength, he was once again the delightful little boy Lan Wangji remembered from his visit to the Burial Mounds. They spent their days testing new toys Lan Xichen would drop off, wandering different mountain pathways, playing with rabbits in the clearing, and digging up the yard around the Jingshi to ‘look for radishes’. During these activities, Lan Wangji was very careful to watch him for signs of weakening or feeling unwell again, but he seemed to be recovering steadily.
Lan Wangji’s looming punishment date hung over him like a ghost, not because of the certain excruciating pain that is to come, but because he knew he would be separated from A-Yuan for a time. He was selfishly worried that A-Yuan’s poor memory from his illness would take these moments from him once Lan Wangji wasn’t seeing him regularly. He would never be able to properly show his gratitude towards Lan Xichen for agreeing to care for A-Yuan in his home for the first year of recovery from his punishment, but he knew he would be missing out on so many beautiful moments with A-Yuan in that year. While Lan Wangji agreed that A-Yuan’s primary bedroom was at Lan Xichen’s for now so he had privacy to recover from his punishment, he was already missing hearing A-Yuan’s clumsy footsteps on the floorboards of the Jingshi.
More importantly than Lan Wangji’s impending loneliness, however, was another matter he would like to settle with A-Yuan before his punishment. He invited Lan Xichen over for dinner one night and hoped he would have the courage to bring it up with his brother to get his advice.
“What is troubling you, Wangji?” Lan Xichen, perceptive as ever, gave Lan Wangji a knowing smile as soon as he finished putting A-Yuan to bed and closing the door behind him.
Lan Wangji’s eyebrows drew together slightly in frustration. “It has been a week since his health has improved. He has yet to ask about his family. Or the Burial Mounds.”
Lan Xichen nodded, having noticed this too. “Healer Yue did say that fever and his young age may have caused significant memory loss. Trauma, too. Perhaps he doesn’t know that there is anything to ask about.”
Lan Wangji did not appear to like that answer. “What if he does remember, but does not feel comfortable to ask?”
Lan Xichen shrugged and walked Lan Wangji to the kitchen to start preparing evening tea. “Are you more worried that he doesn’t remember, or that he doesn’t trust you enough to ask?”
“I am worried that he has many questions but is not receiving answers.” Lan Wangji murmured, staring hard at the surface of his kitchen table.
Lan Xichen said, “He is young, Wangji. If he is acclimating to a new environment easily, that is a good thing. There is no point in opening a wound he doesn’t know is there by telling him.”
Lan Wangji never snapped in anger towards Lan Xichen, but he was close to it when he responded forcefully: “He needs answers to where his family went. He needs to know they are not coming back.”
Lan Xichen paused his movements with the tea and studied his younger brother carefully. Lan Wangji’s fists were clenched and resting on the table, shaking slightly. He was still staring at the table with hardened eyes and a tense expression, clearly holding something back. Lan Xichen moved slowly from the kitchen and sat across from him.
“I want A-Yuan to know where his loved ones are. Why he cannot see them anymore. So he does not try to wait for them to return.” Lan Wangji answered, voice tight. He could picture Lan Xichen standing behind his younger, small body shivering in the snow, kneeling outside of an empty house, waiting in vain for someone he would never see again. From the stricken look on his face, it seemed Lan Xichen was thinking of the same memory.
“Wangji. Is this about…” Lan Xichen cut himself off, unwilling or unable to say it. In the many years since their mother died, Lan Wangji can count on one hand how many times he has heard his brother speak about her.
Lan Xichen rested a warm hand over Lan Wangji’s tense fist on the table. Whether he was granting Lan Wangji the mercy of not having to dive too deep into their past or he himself did not want to get into it, Lan Wangji was grateful when Lan Xichen simply said: “That is very generous of you, Wangji. He deserves an explanation, even at his young age.”
Lan Wangji nodded once, still tense. Lan Xichen patted his hand before standing back up to resume their tea.
“Maybe you should start the conversation yourself.” Lan Xichen said as though their original topic of conversation had never taken such a melancholy turn. He placed their tea on the table and joined Lan Wangji again.
Lan Wangji gave Lan Xichen a quizzical stare. Lan Xichen shrugged.
“If A-Yuan has not asked you yet, maybe you just need to sit him down and tell him what happened. It might even jog his memory.”
“I do not think I am the best one to do this, Ge.”
Lan Xichen nodded in understanding. “I know conversation is not your greatest strength, Wangji, but you are raising a child now. You are going to have to do more explaining and more talking than you’ve ever needed to in order to help A-Yuan understand the world around him. That is what being a parent is, no?”
Lan Wangji was nodding, but his head was still spinning. “This topic is sensitive for a child.”
“I agree, but it is his reality, Wangji. Like you said, he deserves to know what happened to his loved ones. It could help him settle more fully into our family. Trust yourself to read his signals and understand what he needs to hear from you.”
Lan Wangji sighed softly, mind somehow racing and completely blank at the same time. He has always had many thoughts and reactions to things happening around him that he’s kept to himself, but after a lifetime of doing so, he was not practiced in expressing himself or maintaining long, deep conversations. On top of that, he realized with a jolt that he had next to no experience interacting with young children. How was he supposed to do this?
“Would you like to practice?” Lan Wangji knew his brother wasn’t teasing him and was genuinely offering, but he flushed with embarrassment nonetheless.
“Ge.” He admonished. Lan Xichen patted his shoulder lovingly.
“Come, Wangji, it’s a big conversation, I know you’re nervous. Practice on me so you get the wording right for A-Yuan.”
Unfortunately, ever since his first visit to the Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji had developed a great weakness: anything that had to do with helping A-Yuan was going to make Lan Wangji fold. Lan Xichen seemed to understand this already and was taking advantage. Lan Wangji sighed again and gave his brother a half-hearted glare.
“Very well. Please act as A-Yuan for this conversation.”
— — — — — —
The next day, Lan Wangji had let the entire morning and most of the afternoon pass them by before he gained the courage to start the conversation with A-Yuan, who was none the wiser to Lan Wangji’s hesitation. Lan Wangji was humiliated at how nervous he was to simply speak with this four year old boy who had done nothing all day but show him his new toys from Lan Xichen.
“A-Yuan.” He finally called the boy just before dinner. A-Yuan looked up at him with wide eyes, wooden swords clutched in both fists. “May I discuss something with you?” A-Yuan nodded with a small smile, urging Lan Wangji to continue. “Do you know what your family name is?”
The boy set the swords down and stared at him with little comprehension. “What is my family name?” He responded as though Lan Wangji had been setting him up for a funny joke.
“My full name is Lan Wangji. What is your full name?” Lan Wangji asked patiently, sitting down directly across from him and wondering if he was asking too complex a question to such a young child.
A-Yuan grinned and pointed at his own chest. “I am A-Yuan!”
Lan Wangji couldn’t fight a small smile of his own. “Yes. But your full name is now Lan Yuan. Do you understand? Lan is your family name.”
“Lan Yuan.” A-Yuan repeated. Lan Wangji tapped A-Yuan’s chest lightly and said it again. A-Yuan lit up in understanding. “My name is Lan Yuan!”
“Yes. That is your full name. But I will still call you A-Yuan. Is that alright?”
A-Yuan nodded. “Your name is also Lan?”
“Yes. I am Lan Wangji. We have the same family name. Do you remember when you were sick?”
A-Yuan nodded. “I was sick and my head hurt.”
Lan Wangji patted A-Yuan’s head gently. “Yes. I brought you here to Gusu to recover. The place you lived before is gone.”
“Where did I live before?”
“You lived in a village far from here. It is no longer safe to live there.”
A-Yuan’s frown deepened and Lan Wangji couldn’t tell if it was due to confusion or displeasure at this information. “Where will I live now?”
“Would you like to live here?”
A-Yuan looked around at the Jingshi and down at the pile of toys he had collected over the last few days. “Can I still play with the rabbits outside?”
“Yes. The rabbits do not live far from here.”
A-Yuan giggled and nodded. “I will live here! With Gege!”
Lan Wangji hummed, satisfied. “Then you shall.” He paused to see if A-Yuan had any objections or additional questions, but continued when the boy stayed silent, looking tempted to go back to playing with his swords. “Because you live here, we will call you my son. It is safest.”
He knew better than to try to explain the political and social reasoning behind this formality, but he still felt slightly awkward bestowing himself such a lofty title as ‘parent’. Lan Wangji very carefully avoided thinking of the person who should have been given the title of A-Yuan’s adoptive father, had things at the Burial Mounds gone differently.
“You are my A-die?” A-Yuan gaped at him.
Lan Wangji nodded mechanically, feeling his ears heat up in a blush. “You may call me that.”
A-Yuan seemed to study him for a moment and Lan Wangji fought to maintain eye contact with this child's intense stare. “A-die?” He tried again. Lan Wangji gave another curt nod.
“I am not your father by blood, A-Yuan.” Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself from trying to explain further. “But I will raise you. Keep you safe. Help you learn.”
He could imagine his brother laughing at his awkwardness here. During their practice conversation, he had advised: “Explain the concept of adoption when he is older, Wangji, he doesn’t need to know all the details quite yet. He just needs to know what to call you, and that you are there to help him.”
As Lan Xichen predicted, A-Yuan bit his lip, starting to get confused.
Trying to avoid this confusion, Lan Wangji clarified. “I will act as your father from now on, A-Yuan. You may call me A-die, if you wish.”
“You won’t leave?” The abrupt question from A-Yuan jolted Lan Wangji from his own discomfort. Lan Wangji focused back on this young boy, starting his life completely over in a haze of illness, displacement and shaky memories, worried about who would be in his life and where he was going to sleep next. This wasn't the time for Lan Wangji's insecurities to overshadow A-Yuan's comfort. Lan Wangji shook his head with certainty this time.
“I am not leaving, A-Yuan. Even when I am away for some time, know that I will return to you.” He pulled out the shorter, child’s size Lan headband he had prepared. He held it out to A-Yuan to see. “This is yours. It signifies that you are a part of the Lan clan. You are a part of my family.”
A-Yuan pinched the ribbon between his fingers and giggled. “It’s soft.”
“Mm. It goes on your head, like mine.”
A-Yuan stood up and gazed at Lan Wangji’s headband. He raised his arm as though to touch it, but hesitated. Lan Wangji nodded his approval and A-Yuan ran a reverent finger along the engraved metal cloud.
“I get to wear this?”
“Mm. I will help you place it. Only family may touch your headband. It is sacred.”
A-Yuan clambered into Lan Wangji’s lap and sat up straight so Lan Wangji could begin to tie the headband around him. “Only A-die can help me?”
“Xichen-ge can also help you. He is my brother. Your uncle.” Lan Wangji wondered what Lan Xichen’s reaction would be to A-Yuan calling him ‘uncle’ for the first time. “He may care for you occasionally when I am away.”
“Where will you go?”
“Sometimes I must travel for clan business. Soon, you will stay with Xichen-ge while I am recovering from an injury.”
“What injury?”
Lan Wangji took a deep breath and tried to decide how to explain this to a child. “I broke many rules and must be punished so that I do not break the rules again.”
A-Yuan bent his head backwards so he was looking up at Lan Wangji, the top of his head pressed against Lan Wangji’s sternum. “A-die is in trouble?”
“Mm. I must be accountable for my actions.”
A-Yuan’s lip wobbled. “I don’t want you to be in trouble! No!”
Lan Wangji smoothed a hand over A-Yuan’s head and resisted the urge to kiss his forehead where the Lan headband now sat. “I am grateful for your concern, A-Yuan. I broke the rules on purpose, so I must accept my punishment. It is only right.”
A-Yuan sniffed. “No! No punishment!”
“Hush, A-Yuan. I will be alright. It is important to be responsible for your actions, even if it includes a punishment.”
A-Yuan thumped his head against Lan Wangji’s chest in a sort of pout. “Hmph. Don’t like it.”
“It will be alright, A-Yuan. You will enjoy your time with Xichen-ge.”
“How long?”
“I do not know how long it will take for me to recover.”
A-Yuan let out a deep breath and rested his back fully against Lan Wangji, leaning heavily into him. Lan Wangji rested a hand on A-Yuan’s tummy and gave it a soft pat in reassurance. He was relieved to find that his stomach had rounded out in the time he had been here, finally receiving the nutrients a growing boy requires.
The rest of their night went by without interruption, though Lan Wangji would be lying if he said he wasn’t half-expecting A-Yuan to suddenly break into a fit of tears once their earlier conversation finally caught up to him.
Lan Xichen had told him: “Children are resilient, Wangji. If his basic needs are being met and you are showing him love and attention as you have been, I don’t think he’s grown enough to fully comprehend much else beyond that for now. The deeper conversations may have to happen when he is a little older.”
A-Yuan was proving Lan Xichen right as he went about his evening after that conversation as though it had been a discussion over what to have for dinner that night. He picked up calling Lan Wangji ‘A-die’ quickly, but Lan Wangji was the one who was slow to react to his new form of address. Despite this, a warmth spread in his chest every time A-Yuan called out to him.
After the emotional day (on Lan Wangji’s part), he melted into his bed in a desperate attempt to sleep it off. There was much to do to prepare for his punishment, knowing that the disciple whip would put him into seclusion to recover for years, and Lan Wangji had been trying not to lose sleep over the anxiety since he was sentenced, but was usually unsuccessful.
In those hours when he lay in the dark and considered all that brought him to this reality and upcoming handicap, he sometimes wondered if his meditative skills would be able to help him survive the devastating injury that awaited him. His train of thought would usually be interrupted then by a small snore to his right, drawing his attention to A-Yuan’s smaller frame on the cot he had ordered to be placed in his room next to his own bed. The sleeping boy would ease his mind then, because knowing that A-Yuan, Wei Wuxian’s most precious person, was safe and waiting for him to return, somehow made him feel like he would be alright in the end.