Chapter Text
“Everyone’s leaving tomorrow,” Wei WuXian remarked as he sauntered into Jin GuangYao’s room. Lan XiChen had propped him up with pillows. “Jiang Cheng’s thrilled.”
Jin GuangYao arched his brow. Lan XiChen smirked from where he sat at Jin GuangYao’s feet. “He is just pretending to be mad.”
“Maybe.” Wei WuXian plopped down on the floor. He held out a jar of wine. “I heard you’re taking less medication for the pain now. So.”
“That’s not the point, Wei WuXian,” Lan XiChen countered, setting the scrolls he had been studying to the side.
“Then I’ll drink alone.”
“Fine,” Jin GuangYao said, one arm reached for the jar. Wei WuXian grinned. “Why are you here?”
“What, I can’t talk to my brother-in-law-in-law?”
“I don’t think you need that extra specification,” said Jin GuangYao. He sipped the wine. It was sweeter than normal here in Lotus Pier, familiar still. Mother never much liked wine, but SiSi had snuck Jin GuangYao a sip once when he was ten.
“Whatever.” Wei WuXian rolled his eyes, snatching the jar back. “I’m actually here to talk to you. Because my husband thinks I should.”
“Should I leave?” asked Lan XiChen.
“Nah,” said Wei WuXian. “But seeing as… we were both reviled murderers in our other life.” He studied his boots. “Thanks for changing that.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Jin GuangYao said.
“Yeah, I’m aware.” Wei WuXian gulped some of the wine, wiping his mouth as he set the jar down with a clack. “But still. It’s—you know, even after remembering, I still feel guilt over it. And—”
Shame. Wei WuXian’s pinched brows, the tremble in his lips, the downcast eyes—he knew them well. Jin GuangYao nodded. “Jun Wu did say that—I would always wind up here. I kept thinking he meant the temple or even dead, and he wasn’t wrong exactly, but—” He sighed. “I think he meant that I would always wind up with regrets.”
“Wasn’t wrong,” Wei WuXian remarked, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out. “At least I didn’t die. That really is a horrible memory. It hurt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you. I didn’t hate you, not even in the past life,” Wei WuXian told him. “Oh, and Lan Zhan is glad he did not have to cut off your hand this time. Although would that have been better?” He frowned.
“He did the right thing,” Jin GuangYao forced himself to say. “Even I hated it. To save Jin Ling.”
Wei WuXian nodded. “I keep saying that this explains so much. Like how you knew about Lan Zhan’s feelings, and—but how did you know about the kiss? I don’t remember telling you—”
Jin GuangYao muffled a snort. He turned to his husband, who was suddenly very busy unfurling another scroll.
“I see,” Wei WuXian said, smirking. “So he told you.”
“WangJi confessed to me when he was—when he was in seclusion,” said Lan XiChen, shifting. “I told him it didn’t matter, it didn’t make him less righteous—though he should have told you, of course, and not have taken advantage—”
“Truth to be told I was more than happy to be kissed,” Wei WuXian said, and Lan XiChen cringed. “And then you told Jin GuangYao, since the two of you really do talk about everything.”
“Yes,” Jin GuangYao said. He sighed. “At that time, Wei WuXian, you should know: I felt sad. I did not mind that you came back. I wanted you and WangJi to end up happily together if possible—I just didn’t want to go down.” He winced. “I’m glad I was.”
Wei WuXian gave him a skeptical glance. “Are you?”
“I’m not glad everything happened how it did, but—I’m happy now,” Jin GuangYao said. “But may I ask you something?”
“Go for it.” Wei WuXian yawned.
“How exactly did Lan WangJi’s confession go this time?” Jin GuangYao asked. “Considering A-Huan and I were witnesses to the other one.”
“You mean when you shouted it all at the Burial Mounds?” Wei WuXian rested his chin on the mattress, peering up at Jin GuangYao.
“Yes.”
Lan XiChen set down the scrolls, leaning forward. He frowned.
“Eh,” said Wei WuXian, face flushing as if he could actually experience embarrassment. “I told him to get lost, which I now know wasn’t exactly the first time. I told him I wasn’t mad at him for kissing me, but I didn’t want him to suffer with me, that it wasn’t his fight. Actually I don’t believe I addressed the kissing at all. I think I couldn’t quite comprehend it.” He sighed. “And then when Jin GuangShan’s soldiers came, WangJi appeared anyways. To help me. He hadn’t left me. I thought my body was about to break because—Granny was killed right in front of me, and—but he grabbed me, gave me spiritual energy, helped me escape with the survivors.”
“I’m sorry,” Jin GuangYao whispered. “I suppose that’s still my fault.”
“Nah. They would have come anyways.” Wei WuXian reached for the alcohol, studying the jar. He frowned and set it aside. “That was when I started thinking maybe he did like me.” He craned his neck back. “You know, A-Yao, the two of us really are very similar. We both feel as if we have to work to be liked. Madame Yu wasn’t much nicer to me than Madame Jin at first. Servant’s son, prostitute’s son, and I remember when we saw the man who was Shen Jiu in that inn, after you died, and people were saying terrible things about you like they had about me. And I couldn’t hate you. You were responsible for some of my misfortune, but so was I, even more so than you. And the things they were saying were not true. I knew that you’d modeled the idol after your mother. I knew that you were just scared and wanted to be accepted. I suppose that’s one difference. I never much cared for acceptance.”
Jin GuangYao swallowed. “Wei WuXian, you really are too naive and trusting.”
“You seem to like those kinds of people, though. Like ZeWu-Jun here and Qin Su?” He snickered.
Jin GuangYao’s face flushed. “Maybe.”
“I’m sorry you couldn’t be. If I’d stayed on the streets, who knows if I’d be more like Xue Yang was.” Wei WuXian shook his head. “Little rascal. I can’t believe you got him another chance.”
Jin GuangYao laughed. “He wasn’t that cruel to me. He defend me against people who insulted my mother—albeit by cutting out their tongues, but—”
Wei WuXian pretended to gag. Lan XiChen laughed.
“Anyways,” said Wei WuXian. “Now that you truly don’t have anything to hide, let’s be friends, okay, A-Yao? We are married to the two Jades of Lan, after all.”
“Are we not friends?” Jin GuangYao asked.
“You’ve been acting like you’re still undercover, so no, we haven’t been. But we can be.” Wei WuXian stuck out his lower lip, pretending to pout.
You know, and you still want to be friends with me? No, you want to be my friend even more?
Your naivete is only a problem if people take advantage of it. I don’t want to. “Okay,” Jin GuangYao said.
Wei WuXian grimaced as he got to his feet. “And now, I should probably bid Jiang Cheng a farewell. And by that I mean give my niece the flute she has to hide from him.”
Lan XiChen laughed.
“You and A-Li should probably talk to him,” Jin GuangYao advised. “I don’t doubt that he’s feeling as much guilt as you and I. Maybe even more, because of how—he feels inferior in every way, and I—”
“Did you and my shidi have many drunken talks after Jin Ling exhausted the both of you with tantrums?” Wei WuXian asked, back turned. “In the past—world? Life? Timeline?”
“Honestly, yes,” Jin GuangYao replied. “He never hated you as much as he hated himself.”
Wei WuXian burst into laughter. “All right.” He strode out of the room.
“I have to see this,” Jin GuangYao said, turning to Lan XiChen. His husband rolled up the scrolls and helped him up, walking him out of his room.
He spotted Wei WuXian and A-Li, both wrapping their arms around Jiang Cheng, who was sputtering in purple-faced rage from the lotus-shaped seat. A-Qing laughed in the background.
“I am not disappointed in you,” A-Li was saying. “No matter what. You’re my little brother. You both are.”
Lan Xichen chuckled as he headed off to speak with Lan QiRen. Lan WangJi slipped into the room, standing beside Jin GuangYao. He watched the YunMeng siblings with his normal resting expression, but his eyes were soft.
“Are you—okay with me being with your brother?” Jin GuangYao asked.
Lan WangJi cast him an odd look. His eyes landed on Wei WuXian, still teasing Jiang Cheng without mercy.
Point taken.
“You’re the one he wants,” Lan WangJi told him, turning to him. The wind lifted his hair, blowing it around his face. He pulled it behind him. “There’s no question then.”
Jin GuangYao lifted his one arm and tilted his head down. He still didn’t quite grasp where he needed to center himself to bow with one arm.
Lan WangJi bowed to him.
“May I have a word?” came a soft voice. Jin GuangYao turned. Nie HuaiSang stood there, hiding behind his fan.
“Did your brother put you up to this?” he asked.
“No,” said Nie HuaiSang. “Yours did. My husband.” He lowered the fan from his fan, snapping it shut. He tilted his head to the side.
Jin GuangYao followed him, heart pounding.
“Do you hate me?” Nie HuaiSang finally asked forthright.
Jin GuangYao started. “Do you hate me?”
Nie HuaiSang sighed. “It’s too complicated to answer. No. Mo XuanYu adores you still, so.”
Jin GuangYao’s heart warmed. “What happened to him in the past life… you can’t take all the responsibility. I’m the one who sent him—”
“I originally planned for Da-Ge to kill you,” Nie HuaiSang interrupted. “And when it seemed that hope was gone—I switched it to Lan XiChen. But you—your words about how you never thought about harming him, how you shoved him away right before—I knew that sound in your voice, that look in your eyes.” He paused by the water, staring down at it. His reflection rippled, a dull shadow in the hazy light. “It was cruel. I wanted you to feel what it was like to be completely alone in the world, with the one person who was always there for you ripped away. But—” He sucked in his breath.
“That was what it felt like,” Jin GuangYao said softly. “But I killed your—our—da-ge, HuaiSang.”
“Yes, and while I’d always looked up to you, I knew it was you almost immediately. As soon as you cut up his body.” HuaiSang heaved a sigh. “When I—when the timelines realigned, I told Mo XuanYu everything. And I did it without mercy. I showed him just how cruel I could be, and i thought he’d think me insane, a lunatic. But he didn’t.”
“I think he knows how it feels to be called insane,” said Jin GuangYao.
“I didn’t tell him about—how he died—but what I did to you, to XiChen—that I told. To Qin Su. How I didn’t care if Jin Ling and SiZhui and the others were killed—and he hugged me anyways.” Nie HuaiSang turned reddened eyes to him. “He said, ‘well, both are you, and how will we fix this?’” Nie HuaiSang sighed. “I almost wish that was how I confronted you, in the past. Except I don’t, because then none of this would have happened.”
“He is a special person,” Jin GuangYao said.
“He is,” HuaiSang agreed. “I would never harm him, Jin GuangYao. I want you to know that. Even if—it’ll be difficult for you and me, going forward. Both are you. Both lives. And Da-Ge means it when he says he still loves you.” He tilted his head down. “I’m sorry about your arm.”
“I’m sorry about—everything,” Jin GuangYao said, watching the wind ripple their reflections, blurring the silhouettes together.
HuaiSang took his one hand, squeezing it. He gave a small smile.
We’ll work on it, Jin GuangYao decided. It’d probably take time for them to completely trust each other again.
When they gathered for farewells, Jin GuangYao had to laugh when Shen QingQiu and Xie Lian both reminded him that he could visit at any point in time.
“We also might show for your birthday,” said Luo BingHe. “Hua Cheng and I have discussed it.”
Jin GuangYao laughed.
“We will see each other again,” agreed Jun Wu, his fingers brushing Mei NianQing’s knuckles.
Shen Jiu met Jin GuangYao’s gaze. He gave a nod, and from him that might as well have been a warm embrace.
“A-Yao,” Jin ZiXuan said, approaching. “Our father is—we are hosting him back in the dungeons, but—” He swallowed. “I will be visiting him every month to see that he’s doing well. And vetting the guards more carefully. And never letting A-Ling in to speak with him again.” He lowered his head. “I despise him, for what he did to you, to A-Ling, to—but I don’t know how else to—besides executing him, and I’m a coward, A-Yao. I hate him, but I’m scared to—”
“You aren’t a coward,” Jin GuangYao managed. He remembered what it was like to kill his father. He hadn’t regretted it. Still had strange, mixed feelings about it, even.
But I don’t want you to suffer, GeGe .
Jin ZiXuan met his gaze and nodded. “Your smile is real?”
“It is,” Jin GuangYao affirmed.
Jin ZiXuan embraced him. “See you in another week?”
“Yes.” He had to go back to the Cloud Recesses first, help Lan XiChen get things in order in the Gusu Lan Sect. Though he was sure people would be calling for his head, for him to step down, for him to be divorced. But Lan XiChen did not care.
They are going to look at me like I always feared, Jin GuangYao thought as Lan XiChen kept his arm around Jin GuangYao’s waist, flying on ShouYue. With loathing, and it’ll be justified.
I don’t want to be hated. Even now, even with the people he needed most still by his side, he was afraid of the glares thrown at him. He wasn’t brave ike Wei WuXian, whose face was so thick it could withstand anything.
But Wei WuXian would be in the Cloud Recesses, and SiSi too, with her scarred face and the whispers about how she had seduced even the most righteous of cultivators. Lan QiRen was never able to snuff out the talk. He never would be able to.
I can’t control it.
They landed amid the mist of the Cloud Recesses, various cultivators approaching. Some of them looked at him with pity, some with satisfaction in their eyes when they saw his missing arm, some with outright shock and disgust. Lan XiChen held him up. “Do you have something to say to my husband?”
Several jaws dropped.
SiSi smirked, as if realizing she’d rubbed off on Lan XiChen, and Jin GuangYao knew his husband would not let anyone hurt him.
“Brother, ChiFeng-Zun has come to visit.”
Lan WangJi’s voice filtered through the hanshi. Jin GuangYao stirred. Had he overslept? The light was brighter than it ought to be if it were five in the morning, but it was not very strong. Jin GuangYao’s sleep schedule had been off ever since the confrontation in the temple a month ago. Lan XiChen was still beside him, though, holding him. That was right; he’d had awful phantom pains through his arm during the night.
“Show him in,” Lan XiChen said, easing himself up. “You don’t have to get up, A-Yao. If there’s a problem—”
“He’s my da-ge too,” Jin GuangYao retorted, and Lan XiChen laughed.
Nie MingJue appeared in the doorway to the hanshi. “Night hunted nearby.” He swung his sleeve to the side. “Surprise.”
“A-Song!” Jin GuangYao yelped. His son rushed over to him, embracing him.
“Wen Qing was visiting her brother,” Nie MingJue said with a shrug. “And the boy asked to see you. Don’t worry, A-Yao. He stuck by me during the hunt.”
Jin GuangYao heaved a sigh. He still wished A-Song would be more careful. But maybe he shouldn’t underestimate his son.
“We’re always glad to see A-Song,” Lan XiChen said, squeezing his stepson’s shoulder. “And I’m glad you came, Da-Ge. I wanted to show you something.”
Oh? This was new to Jin GuangYao.
Lan XiChen served them tea and a simple breakfast. Nie MingJue inquired about how Jin GuangYao was feeling, and he lied at first, until Nie MingJue asked Lan XiChen the same question and Lab XiChen admitted he’d been having phantom pains that kept him awake at night.
“Can’t Wen Qing do anything?” asked A-Song.
“Probably,” Nie MingJue said. “At least for sleep.”
“It’s fine," Jin GuangYao protested.
“It is not,” said Lan XiChen.
“You don’t have to punish yourself,” said Nie MingJue.
“Let us help you,” A-Song said eagerly, and Jin GuangYao chuckled. How their situations were reversed.
“Dad, can I talk to you?” asked A-Song when they had finished eating. “Privately.”
Jin GuangYao nodded, hobbling to his feet. He still was trying to get used to the feeling of only having one arm. Sweat prickled at his forehead. He walked beside his son through the verdant gardens of the Cloud Recesses, A-Song putting his hand on his dad’s waist to steady him. Jin GuangYao mumbled a thanks. “Are you all right?” he blurted out the moment they were in a somewhat-secluded grove. What’s wrong? Did someone insult you? Hurt you? People said awful things about A-Song’s delays...
A-Song nodded. He sat down on a large, rocky outcropping, kicking out his legs. Jin GuangYao eased himself down next to him. “A-Ling and A-Chan say you were a bad guy in the first life. But you went back to fix it. Because everyone died.”
“I—yes,” Jin GuangYao said uneasily.
“Because I died,” A-Song said.
Jin GuangYao closed his eyes. He nodded.
“So I died young in that world…” He let his voice trail off.
Jin GuangYao’s heart lurched. He didn’t know what to say.
A-Song knew, didn’t he? Or at least suspected. The sound of the rushing streams and waterfalls in the Cloud Recesses knocked against his skull, aching.
“Let’s go.” A-Song hopped to his feet, reaching out to help his father to his feet.
Jin GuangYao’s vision blurred. A-Song was wondering, but he didn’t want to ask to confirm it, whether because he couldn’t handle it or he knew his father couldn’t, Jin GuangYao didn’t know. All he knew was that his son had all of Qin Su’s compassion and Jin GuangYao had so much to learn from him.
“You really went back and saved everyone,” A-Song said. “So I can brag to Jin Ling about my dad now.”
Jin GuangYao swallowed, and he turned so that his arm was wrapped tightly around his son, and his son’s face was pressed into his shoulder. A-Song was taller than he was, but not by much. “The thing I’m most proud of,” he said. “Is you. I’d do it over and over and over again, for you.” His voice shook. “I’m sorry my—my sins reflect on you. And your grandfather’s. But no matter what they say, the world, this society: you’re the best part of my life.” He meant it. He really did.
He loved being loved. But the privilege of being able to love A-Song, help him grow—it was something he never fully understood in his first life, something he cut off because he thought it would doom him, and really, it saved him.
I love you so much.
A-Song snorted. “Dad, you’re getting all sappy.” He pushed Jin GuangYao away, and then giggled, pointing.
Jin GuangYao turned. Lan XiChen stood next to Nie MingJue, and they were both watching. Jin GuangYao shook his head.
“Did you tell him?” Lan XiChen asked softly, when A-Song went to seek Lan SiZhui with a gift from Jin Ling.
Jin GuangYao shook his head. “He didn’t ask. He—knows. He just doesn’t want it confirmed.” His voice caught.
“Good,” said Nie MingJue.
Lan XiChen beckoned them to follow him. He led them away from the more populated areas of the Cloud Recesses, heading for the forests and streams. And then he stopped by a tall waterfall. Mist sprayed around them. “This should be it.”
“Hm?” Jin GuangYao frowned. Nie MingJue looked baffled.
But Lan XiChen was already heading closer to the waterfall, peering around the rushing water like it was a curtain. He pulled back, face wet and beaming. “It is! There’s a cave back here! Da-Ge, A-Yao, come see!”
Jin GuangYao was skeptical. He shuffled forward.
“Lan QiRen told me about this cave,” Lan XiChen said, wading. He held Jin GuangYao’s hand, Nie MingJue holding his shoulder to keep him steady as he tried to avoid slipping on the rocks in an attempt to climb behind the waterfall.
Inside the cave, the air was cool and damp. Jin GuangYao sucked in his breath, watching the water rush white and foamy, blocking any view of the outside.
“How did he know about this place?” Nie MingJue asked, voice skeptical.
“My dad used to take him here,” Lan XiChen said softly. “Apparently.” He drew in a shaky breath. “When they were growing up. Until my grandfather passed, and then Lan QiRen said he used to come along, because Father was always busy with sect leader duties—until he married my mother.”
“My dad had a cliff place he used to go to,” Nie MingJue said.
“A brothel?” Jin GuangYao offered for his. Nie MingJue grimaced.
“It is a burden to take on a sect leader role that young,” Nie MingJue said. “I could not imagine having left HuaiSang, or my own children, separating them from Wen Qing—”
Jin GuangYao had never heard Nie MingJue say such a thing.
“Look,” said Lan XiChen, pointing at the rocks. Jin GuangYao squinted. It was so dank and dark here that he couldn’t quite—
Oh.
Lan XiChen’s father’s name, and Lan QiRen’s, were scratched into the granite. Their writing was nowhere near the neat, perfect lines of Lan QiRen’s current handwriting.
A child who had time to improve.
And one who froze himself.
No, two who had. But Jin GuangYao had seen Lan QiRen helping Lan Lei learn to write, had seen him slip an arm around SiSi’s waist while outside, even if he mistakenly thought they were alone at the time.
You thawed.
“I don’t want my dad to come,” he mumbled at six years old, snuggling with Mother. He had the sniffles, and she had wrapped her arms around him to comfort him. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Oh, but it will be wonderful, A-Yao,” she told him, her long nails scraping pleasantly against his scalp. “You’ll learn so much and be so strong.”
“I don’t care. I just want to stay with you.” He closed his eyes.
And her breath had caught. “You’ll grow up big and strong,” she said, wrong about one, maybe two—no, one. “You’re going to live a good life, A-Yao. I know it.”
It’d taken him two tries.
But he was living a good life.