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Jiang Cheng and his fellow students are milling about, relaxing after their lesson, when an ominous bell begins tolling. A brief hush falls, followed by curious murmurs. Jiang Cheng exchanges a glance with Nie Huaisang even as some Lan Sect disciples hurry over and begin corralling the crowd.
Ah. It’s a warning bell. An intruder. Someone has forcefully entered Cloud Recesses, breaking through the carefully cultivated barrier.
“How can that be?” Nie Huaisang clutches at Jiang Cheng, sounding equal parts impressed and terrified. Even the Lan disciple acting as their shepherd looks concerned.
They walk a few steps when Jiang Cheng suddenly freezes.
“Jiang-xiong?” Nie Huaisang tugs at him. “Hey—!”
Jiang Cheng only pauses long enough to toss out a succinct explanation before taking off towards the edge of the forest.
“Won’t be long,” he yells back to the Lan disciple he barrels over.
... ... ...
“Wei Wuxian! Where did you go off and die this time?!”
Jiang Cheng lets out an irritated huff of breath. His shixiong really has the best timing. Just the best. Of all the days to go explore the mountain. Again.
If he trips on a branch and ruins his clothes, he’s going to steal all of Wei Wuxian’s and let that asshole go naked for a week, he vows.
...Wei Wuxian probably wouldn’t care, actually.
Tsk.
“Hey, where the f—?!”
The shink of a drawn sword steals his attention and Jiang Cheng is immediately high on alert. He barely has time to focus when the sound is followed by a loud crack. A tree?
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng is thrown onto his back, completely winded. He didn’t see what hit him. The flora around him creak back into place, swaying in the aftermath.
“What just...?”
He scrambles to his feet, uninjured but winded. A heavy, sickly feeling lingers in the air.
Vengeful energy?
...In Cloud Recesses?!
There’s no way...wait...unless...? Oh well it really is his lucky day, huh?!
As proud as he is, Jiang Cheng is no idiot. He’s not Wei Wuxian. That energy he just felt isn’t anything he can stand against on his own.
Heart pounding, holding his breath, Jiang Cheng backs away slowly.
“Stop...! W-who...?!”
The voice that reaches his ears is barely audible, faint and choked. But it’s enough to send a horrified chill down Jiang Cheng’s spine. As if he could mistake that voice anywhere.
His feet spring to action a beat before his mind registers it.
It doesn’t take a second before Jiang Cheng is bursting into a clearing, Sandu drawn and ready, heart in his throat. And there they are.
There’s a sword — Suibian — skewering him to the mess of a tree behind him and there are hands around his neck. His shixiong had chosen a light lilac uniform today, perfect for early summer weather. Perfectly contrasting the crimson spilling down his side.
He must be seeing things, he must be.
His heart stumbles but thankfully his body does not hesitate, years of training serving him well. A haze of red colours his vision, sharpens it, because this is simply unacceptable.
Dimly, Jiang Cheng wonders what happened. Was it just a coincidence? Was Wei Wuxian just at the wrong place, at the wrong time? Or did he run towards the danger? But Jiang Cheng knows, really, that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t do that. Not when it mattered.
“Get off him!”
Surprisingly, the assailant — the intruder — listens, letting Wei Wuxian slide to the ground, limp and silent. The man turns and Jiang Cheng stares into bottomless scarlet eyes. Coldness creeps up his arms.
“You’ll regret saving him.”
Jiang Cheng’s head feels woozy and, pumped full of adrenaline, he can barely think straight. The maniac in front of him looks disconcertingly like Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand what’s going on.
“Who are you? How dare you attack Yunmeng’s head disciple?!”
But it can’t be him. Wei Wuxian is right there bleeding out behind him. The torn and bloodied black robes flow and drape off a skeletal frame, so unlike the practical outfits his shixiong favours. It lets Suibian — and his good looks — shine even more, Wei Wuxian likes to say.
The corpse-like pallor and blood-red eyes of this stranger fill Jiang Cheng with a muted sense of horror. Beyond his face, there’s nothing similar at all, Jiang Cheng thinks.
The stranger only laughs. It’s a soft and broken sound.
“Leave now, Jiang Cheng. You can pretend you never saw anything. Pretend...he never existed.”
Rage boils under Jiang Cheng’s skin. He doesn’t have time for this, not when his idiot of a brother is lying, unmoving, on the ground. And yet this maniac is spewing some kind of nonsense.
“Bullshit! Who the fuck are you, even?! You think I, the future sect leader of the Jiang Sect, will stand by and let you attack one of my own people?”
For a split second, Jiang Cheng thinks the stranger might cry. It’s a bewildering thought. He’s never seen Wei Wuxian cry.
“It’s better this way. Trust me, please. Just this once.”
Suibian’s blade flashes, still wet with blood. Sandu rises.
Jiang Cheng’s mouth opens in a silent scream. He’s too far. He’s too far.
A ripple of energy rips through the clearing. A clean strum of the guqin.
“Wei Ying!”
Jiang Cheng has never heard that voice infused with such panic. But it’s not enough. Lan Wangji buys them a fraction of time but Suibian is still descending, falling like an executioner’s final blow.
“No, please...”
The clearing explodes into blinding light.
As soon as Jiang Cheng’s eyes adjust a little, he cracks open a slit, just in time to see a tall silhouette pull the black-clad figure into his arms.
Even from afar, it looks intimate. Jiang Cheng wants to look away, but he doesn’t. He sees the silhouette lean down to whisper quiet words. They are pleading words yet they are filled with a steady and firm conviction. They are not for him but Jiang Cheng hears them anyway.
“Come home, Wei Ying. Come back to me. I am waiting for you.”
The world collapses into nothing.
“We are all waiting.”
... ... ...
Wei Wuxian wakes slowly. It’s like floating up from deep, murky waters and finally breaking the surface to bask in the sunlight above.
The last tendril of the dream releases his mind from its grasp. He blinks open heavy eyelids.
“Wei Ying.”
A deep, familiar timbre rumbles next to his ear and he instinctively tries to shift closer.
“Lan Zhan~”
He burrows into a warm embrace.
“Mn. I’m here.” His husband shifts and pulls him into a sitting position, still comfortably arranged in his lap. “How do you feel?”
“Never better. What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
Wei Wuxian plays absently with a strand of Lan Wangji’s hair and doesn’t answer.
He remembers the conference. It’s why they’re here in Yunmeng, the first time in an official capacity. Hanguang-jun and his cultivation partner.
Surreptitiously, he glances around the room. Indeed, they haven’t left. He recognizes Lotus Pier’s style of furnishings.
And then what?
Oh, yes. The beast. Its poisonous talons.
Some young upstarts had smuggled it in using a qiankun pouch of all things. They’d wanted to...what was it? Reverse an unnatural, undeserved rebirth and set the world to rights? Have their names etched into history through this noble deed?
Something like that.
Wei Wuxian scoffs.
But as uncoordinated as the effort had been, it almost succeeded. Wei Wuxian had been far too unguarded, far too comfortable in a place he used to call home. All it took was a turned back, a split second of divided attention, and the last thing he saw was Lan Wangji’s widening eyes before he fell into darkness.
The wound itself is barely a scratch. The bandages Wei Wuxian can feel around his arm are definitely overkill.
He presses a kiss onto his husband’s cheek. An apology.
“You must’ve been worried.”
Lips brush against his temple. Arms tighten around him.
“Mn. I was.”
They bask in each other’s presence for a good few minutes. Lan Wangji isn’t one to fidget, not at all, but sometimes he likes to run his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair, thread their fingers together, press gentle kisses down his neck...remind himself he’s really here. Wei Wuxian knows it all too well.
“Your dream?” Lan Wangji asks.
Wei Wuxian sighs. He doesn’t really want to think about it but he knows he should. And Lan Wangji makes him braver.
“It was just after Nightless Sky. Shijie had just...” He swallows. It’s never easier. It never will be. “And I...I don’t know why. Maybe I was just thinking about it, wishing, so hard that...well. It was a dream anyway.
“So suddenly I was back. Standing in front of Cloud Recesses. Those barriers didn’t stand a chance against the Yiling Patriarch. Heh.”
“Wei Ying...”
“I know! I know. It’s stupid but I...I guess I thought it was a good idea. At the time.”
He remembers the dream more vividly than he would like.
He remembers the screams, the blood, the emptiness. He remembers all of it falling away and then a glimmer of hope and desperation burning into his chest.
He had been given a chance. A chance to reset, a chance to erase the pain.
It had been such an easy choice. It made so much sense. Everything would have been better.
“Do you still think that?”
Wei Wuxian startles. The voice came from the door and sure enough, it’s the one person he doesn’t want to see right now.
“...Ah, Jiang Cheng. You’re here.”
Lost in memories, Wei Wuxian didn’t notice him arriving. He frowns.
“Well?” Jiang Cheng presses, the picture of impatience.
“I...”
Lan Wangji’s chest is a solid warmth against his back. Wei Wuxian can’t help but slide his hand into his husband’s. He squeezes tight. Jiang Cheng scrunches up his nose in his typical disdain.
“No. No, I don’t.”
Wei Wuxian stares fixedly down at his and Lan Wangji’s joined hands. The silence drags on so long that he thinks Jiang Cheng might’ve left. But then...
“I’m...glad to hear that.”
The admission is quiet but the words are enough to stun Wei Wuxian into stillness. Jiang Cheng looks highly uncomfortable.
Wei Wuxian takes one look at his face and laughs.
... ... ...
Extra:
“Wei Wuxian!”
The young Sect Leader Jin skids to a halt in front of the Yiling Patriarch and his husband.
“Hanguang-jun,” Jin Ling adds, making a hasty formal greeting. He pauses, taking a moment to look Wei Wuxian up and down. Wei Wuxian returns his scrutiny with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re awake.”
“...Indeed. Is there a problem?”
“Yes!” As if suddenly reminded, Jin Ling jolts in place and wastes no more time dragging Wei Wuxian away.
“Uncle is about to kill those rogue cultivators!”
“So what are you coming to me for?!”
“Ah, whatever! Just come already!”