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The first discussion conference that Wei Wuxian sits in on after getting married is hosted by GusuLan. What this means is that, as the spouse of the Second Jade and mother of the heir to GusuLan, Wei Wuxian is obligated to join the conference, whether he wants to or not.
(Spoiler: He really, really doesn’t want to.)
Discussion conferences have been the definition of banality since even before Wei Wuxian was a cultivator, and he has never been to one that didn’t make him want to either tear his hair out or murder someone. Sure, the activities could be fun, like archery competitions, or nighthunts, but the actual, sit-down discussion? Wei Wuxian would rather be dropped into the Burial Mounds for another three months than go through that.
(Okay, not really, but the point stood, alright?)
As head disciple of YunmengJiang and Jiang Cheng’s right-hand man, he’d been more than obligated to sit in on the talks, and despite the fact that he’d clearly been out of his mind with boredom, he’d kept going anyway. Because Jiang Cheng had been too young then, too inexperienced, and no one would take him seriously as a sect leader unless there was someone behind him, to scare the respect into them.
And like it or not, the Yiling Patriarch had been the perfect candidate for that role. Wei Wuxian had glowered, twirled Chenqing with that wry, sadistic little grin, and people had fallen over themselves to give Jiang Cheng the respect that he should have had anyway.
And now Jiang Cheng is doing fine without him, respected and feared in equal measure, and he’s single-handedly brought YunmengJiang back from the brink, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t be prouder.
But still he’s stuck going to these conferences anyway.
(Why did Lan Zhan have to be the Second Jade of GusuLan, huh?)
So Wei Wuxian sits, poised and upright and correct, for a grand total of maybe twenty minutes, before the boredom hits and he sprawls instead, already wishing that the cup of tea in his hand was wine, preferably Emperor’s Smile, and wishing that he could just- collapse into Lan Zhan’s lap or something.
Across the room, Jiang Cheng meets his eyes, and they trade eyerolls simultaneously.
Ah, it was good to know that no matter what changed, they would always share the same sentiments about discussion conferences.
The Wei Wuxian meets Lan Qiren’s gaze, and immediately he looks away. He knows that Lan Qiren doesn’t hate him, no matter how much he acts like it, that he’s more than accepted his marriage to his nephew, but still the feeling of his glare burning holes into his back is… discomfiting.
Still, it’s not discomfiting enough to have him actually sit upright, so he sprawls even more, this time going so far as to lean against Lan Zhan’s shoulder, feeling Lan Qiren’s gaze boring into him. Lan Zhan turns to look at him, heaving a small sigh that Wei Wuxian can’t take seriously because of the small smile tugging at the corner of his husband’s lips.
The discussion happening in the room is a low buzz in the background, dulled by the light of Lan Zhan’s smile- really, who could concentrate on anything when beauty like that was directed at them?
Who would want to, really?
But still, it’s almost impossible to ignore the way the buzz of discussion loudens, the way it takes on a more and more agitated tone, the way discussion becomes debate becomes argument.
Under his cheek, Lan Zhan’s muscles tense, and Wei Wuxian begins to tune back in. Anything that stressed his alpha out, he wanted to know.
“-ief Cultivator? I would nominate Sect Leader Nie, of course, he is just and righteous and fair.”
“And also utterly unwilling to deal with the bullshit you all cause on a weekly basis,” Nie Mingjue rumbles, looking distinctly unamused.
“Sect Leader Jin is clearly the best choice for the job!” Jin Zixun yells out, and no matter that GusuLan has been serving nothing but tea, the man looks almost drunk, face ruddy and mannerisms sluggish. “He is the most senior Sect Leader, it is obvious that he is the best choice! Do not forget that without LanlingJin’s efforts the Sunshot Campaign would never have been won!”
(“Well, it’s not as if you wanted to help,” Meng Yao mutters from his seat, barely loud enough for Wei Wuxian to hear. “Jin Guangshan is no more suited to be Chief Cultivator than he’s suited to be a father. He spent more time licking Wen Ruohan’s boots than leading his own damn sect.”)
A cheer rises from LanlingJin’s side of the hall, loud enough that Lan Qiren’s eyelid twitches in annoyance, only cut off when Lan Zhan’s cup clinks down just a tad too loud on the table.
“Untrue,” his husband announces, even and poised and toneless. “Without LanlingJin we would have been lacking forces, yes, but-”
And here, Lan Zhan squeezes Wei Wuxian’s hand under the table, a soft apology, and Wei Wuxian braces for whatever his husband could be planning to end that sentence with.
“The Yiling Patriarch would have more than made up for that lack. Lanling was not the force that the Sunshot Campaign could not have done without. That force was the Yiling Patriarch.”
The hall goes silent.
It is a stunned, shocked silence. It is perhaps the most words that most people in this hall have ever heard Han Guang-Jun speak, but more than that- more than that, it is the content of his words, the undeniable truth that no one wants to acknowledge, because to acknowledge it would be to acknowledge that just less than half a year ago they had been calling for the head of the man who had won them an impossible war.
Then there is a flutter of paper from the opposite side of the hall, loud in the silence, and someone calls, “I move to nominate Han Guang-Jun as Chief Cultivator!”
Across the room, Wei Wuxian meets gray-green eyes partially hidden behind a swiftly snapped open fan. Those eyes blink at him, innocently, and Wei Wuxian narrows his own in reply. He parts his lips to mouth something, but his attention is quickly snatched away by the clamour that overtakes the hall.
“Of course!” Someone else calls, pretentious and presumptuous. “Han Guang-Jun would be the perfect Chief Cultivator! After all, who else had the judgement to see that the Yiling Patriarch was righteous and good, saving the lives of elderly that did not partake in the war? I second the nomination!”
Slowly, the agreement builds up, more and more calls for Lan Zhan to be Chief Cultivator, more and more agreements, until the hall is abuzz with people shouting reasons, singing Lan Zhan’s praises and all but writing poetry about his virtues.
“Han Guang-Jun would indeed be th-”
“How could Lan Wangji ever be a good Chief Cultivator?” Comes the sneer, so loud that Wei Wuxian takes a moment to wonder if its owner had used a sound amplification spell. “Such a loose alpha that he had not one but two children out of wedlock! And so irresponsible that he wouldn’t even marry the omega he knocked up! I refuse such an immoral man as Chief Cultivator!”
Wei Wuxian’s hackles rise at the insult, even as a part of his mind questions the intelligence of the speaker- it wasn’t a secret that A-Yuan wasn’t Lan Zhan’s by blood, and also wasn’t a secret that A-Li was Wei Wuxian’s son-
Judging by the murmurs of confusion that rise in the hall, clearly most people in the hall were aware of these facts as well.
Wei Wuxian’s follows the speaker’s voice to a man in white and gray, robes that all but mirrored GusuLan’s, but a dull blue-gray where GusuLan was a clear, clean pale blue. There is a silver headpiece in the man’s hair, and it looks almost like Lan Zhan’s does, if Lan Zhan’s was bejewelled and gaudy instead of simple and elegant.
Two seats away, Wei Wuxian hears Meng Yao let out a resigned breath, and turns to see the other omega straightening in his seat.
“Minshan,” Meng Yao sighs, meeting the Lan Zhan-copycat’s eyes. “Please-”
The man -Su Minshan, Wei Wuxian vaguely recognises him now. He’s the leader of that new branch sect of GusuLan that recently popped up in Moling, isn’t he?- simply sneers in Meng Yao’s direction. “It’s not your place to speak to me, Jin Guangyao.”
Immediately, Wei Wuxian sees the way Meng Yaos’ expression hardens, the way his shoulders draw up tight. His fellow omega shrugs, once, and turns his gaze away from Su Minshan.
Fine, Meng Yao’s expression seems to say. Watch me laugh as you dig your own grave, then.
Oh, and dig his own grave Su Minshan does indeed.
“Han Guang-Jun is so emotionless, so cold, acts as if he’s above everyone else. You want someone like that to be your Chief Cultivator? Every petition you bring to him will get immediately rejected, he won’t even look at them! A stuck-up, arrogant-”
“That is enough,” Lan Qiren snaps, and the clink of his teacup against the table is jarring in that Lan Qiren has never made a sound setting his teacup down before. “Su Minshan, I would remind you to watch your words.”
Su Minshan’s lips twist into a snarl, and Wei Wuxian can already tell that the man is a second away from spouting his bullshit once more.
“Insult without evidence is slander,” Wei Wuxian says, and he is vaguely aware that Lan Qiren's gaze snaps to him, appraising and almost approving. “Slander is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses. You should know this, as an ex-disciple of GusuLan, or are you simply that eager to copy out the rules?”
Su Minshan’s face goes an uneven, splotchy red, and he opens his mouth, undoubtedly to spew more drivel.
“This coming f-”
His lips snap shut, and Wei Wuxian can only watch, appropriately satisfied, as Su Minshan claws futilely at his sealed lips. Wei Wuxian turns to Lan Zhan, grin already in place, ready to congratulate his husband on a job well done.
Lan Zhan shakes his head, and Wei Wuxian blinks.
If Lan Zhan wasn’t the one who cast the spell- Wei Wuxian’s head swivels to Lan Qiren, stroking his beard.
“We understand that you may not be disciples of GusuLan,” Lan Qiren says. “But while you are under Cloud Recesses’ hospitality, we expect you to follow our rules to the very best of your ability, and we will not hesitate to punish rulebreakers, am I clear about this?”
A good majority of the people present appear appropriately cowed, and Wei Wuxian has the sudden realisation that most of these cultivators have been taught by Lan Qiren at some point in their lives. He stifles a laugh, and can only arch an approving eyebrow at Lan Qiren, who pointedly ignores him.
At the other end of the room, Su Minshan mmphs furiously.
“If we could get back to the matter at hand, then,” Jin Guangshan says, his voice smarmy enough that Wei Wuxian has to physically hold back his shudder of disgust. “If I may be so bold to say, I do n-”
“Hold on,” Jiang Cheng cuts in, and there is a slow, banked anger in his eyes, in the tense set of his shoulders. He straightens in his seat, and Zidian crackles around his finger. “I would like Sect Leader Su to reflect on exactly what he is insinuating by claiming that my brother, my previous head disciple, is a second choice in his own marriage.”
Su Minshan’s face goes ruddy with anger, but then, from the LanlingJin section, Jiang Yanli’s voice sounds. “Now, A-Cheng, I’m sure Sect Leader Su didn’t mean any disrespect. After all, he knows very well who he’s making an enemy of with such an insinuation.”
Behind Jiang Yanli, a portion of LanlingJin cultivators bring their swords more carefully into sight. Behind Jiang Cheng, the YunmengJiang disciples cheer.
Su Minshan’s face goes pale.
A gentle hum, from right beside Wei Wuxian.
“Indeed,” Lan Xichen says, smile still in place, friendly and amiable. “I find Wuxian is a joy as a brother-in-law, and it would be a horrible oversight on GusuLan’s part if we were to let a family member be insulted without consequence.”
A laugh from across the room, then, the kind of deep laugh that couldn’t be hidden. Nie Mingjue grins, and raises his cup in a toast. “Well said, Xichen, what would we be if we did not protect our family and friends, huh?”
Wei Wuxian blinks. He was fairly certain that the person being insulted here was Lan Zhan, and not him, but- he will not deny that the way his friends and family step up against even the smallest perceived slight-
He leans against Lan Zhan, and tries not to laugh at the way Su Minshan seems to have lost all the blood to his face.
His lips part, and, oh, the silencing spell has lifted, then. “Ho-”
Wei Wuxian cuts across Su Minshan’s words unhesitatingly. No doubt that they were just more drivel, after all.
“Ah, this humble one is grateful, but Lan Zhan was the one being insulted, not me. I admit, I cannot see how and why the need to elect a sect leader who is quite so blind and unable to read social cues arises, but I suppose MolingSu must have reasons of their own," Wei Wuxian hums, grinning a shark's grin. "I regret to inform you, Sect Leader Su, but your argument is invalid solely due to the fact that it is entirely inaccurate. Sure, Lan Zhan had a kid out of wedlock, but there was only the one. Lan Yuan is adopted, and happily so. As to who Zhenli's mother is, well…"
Beside him, Lan Zhan rolls his eyes and tugs Wei Wuxian closer to him.
"Wei Ying," his alpha says.
Wei Wuxian musters a cheeky smile to throw his husband's way, and claps. "Yep, Wei Ying is Zhenli's mother, of course!"
“Wei Wuxian, you-” Su Minshan yells, face back to its flushed, splotchy red. “How obscene, to share something like-”
“Something like what, Su Minshan?” Lan Zhan says, the first words he has said since Su Minshan started spouting his nonsense. “There is nothing wrong with claiming parentage to a child who is your own.”
“It-”
Zidian crackles, and then Jiang Cheng is standing at his place, purple lightning already shrouding him.
“If you are quite done insulting my brother,” he snarls. “I believe we have better things to discuss than your own unfounded prejudices.”
Su Minshan’s jaw snaps shut, and Lan Xichen clears his throat, benign smile already back in place.
“Our first order of business, then…”
"Aiya, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian sighs, perched in his alpha’s lap and finger-combing his own hair. They are back in the Jingshi after a truly exhausting day, and really, Wei Wuxian occasionally regrets not just- snatching Lan Zhan away and eloping, but, ah well, at least their kids had a stable, safe environment to grow up in.
Behind him, his alpha hums encouragingly and then gently tugs Wei Wuxian’s fingers from his hair, jade comb already in hand as he takes over combing duties instead.
Wei Wuxian purrs softly and leans into the gentle touches against his scalp. He loves when Lan Zhan combs his hair- his alpha would do it any time he asked, but Wei Wuxian didn’t like asking too often, Lan Zhan always put so much care and effort into it and it took up so much of his time that sometimes Wei Wuxian felt a little bad about it, although Lan Zhan’s never complained.
(In fact, Wei Wuxian suspects that his husband rather enjoys combing his hair, if only for satisfying the primal alpha instinct of caring for and grooming your mate.)
Lan Zhan hums again, inquisitive this time, and Wei Wuxian belatedly remembers that he was in the middle of a thought. He takes a second more to fully immerse himself in the sensation of his alpha running his slim fingers through his hair, or those gentle, calloused fingertips carefully prising apart the tangles, and then gathers his thoughts back into his brain.
“Ah, husband mine, don’t you think your uncle was being very kind to me today?”
Lan Zhan’s fingers do not stop their motions, and Wei Wuxian can smell the mellow scent of sandalwood, both from his alpha and from the oil that is being rubbed into his hair.
“Our uncle,” Lan Zhan says after a long moment, briefly pausing in his ministrations to press a kiss to the top of Wei Wuxian’s head. “You are family now, do not forget.”
If Lan Zhan were not combing his hair, Wei Wuxian would have long ducked his head, hiding his face in his hands. He whines, just a little, and his face feels hot.
“Uncle drank your tea at our tea ceremony,” his cruel, cruel husband says. “He has accepted you into the family a long time ago. You are in the genealogies, Wei Ying, as are our sons.”
This time, Wei Wuxian really does bury his face in his hands, heedless of the tug on his scalp as Lan Zhan doesn’t let go of his hair quite fast enough. He whines, muffled by his palms, and Lan Zhan just huffs a soft breath of laughter, interrupted only by a knock on the door.
His alpha stands to open the door, and Lan Xichen and Meng Yao stand on the other side, Lan Yuan and Lan Zhenli carried in their arms respectively, both blinking tired eyes that light up upon the sight of their parents.
“I hope you don’t mind that we picked them up from their caretakers for you,” Meng Yao says, handing A-Li over to Lan Zhan when the child starts making grabby hands for his father. In Lan Xichen’s arms, A-Yuan begins to squirm too, and Wei Wuxian can only watch, absolute fondness warm in his chest, as Lan Zhan shifts A-Li expertly into one arm and reaches over to support A-Yuan with the other. Both their sons make soft, contented noises and turn their faces into either side of Lan Zhan’s neck, cuddling close.
“It is fine,” Lan Zhan says after taking a moment to nuzzle against the boys’ heads and renew his scent mark on them. “I would have gone in a while, but thank you for your trouble.”
Wei Wuxian stands then, making his way to his husband’s side and taking A-Yuan from his hold so that Lan Zhan can carry A-Li more comfortably. “Ahh, Meng Yao, Xichen-ge, thank you!”
“It was no trouble, Wangji, Wuxian, the caretaker’s was on our way anyway.” Lan Xichen smiles, then turns to face Wei Wuxian more directly. “If you do not mind, I couldn’t help but overhear what Wangji said just as we were nearing the Jingshi. It is true, Wuxian, Uncle would not have accepted your offered tea if he had not accepted you into the family. As it stands, he didn’t want you to know, but he was the one who pushed for yours and Lan Yuan’s names to be included in the genealogies when the elders wrote Zhenli in."
Wei Wuxian blinks, startled, and only comes back to himself when A-Yuan shifts in his arms and mumbles a sleepy, “Mama.” Distractedly, he pats A-Yuan on the head and continues staring at Lan Xichen. “Lan Qiren- he really- he-”
Lan Xichen smiles. “Uncle approves of you more than he would like you to know, Wuxian. Unruly and mischievous as you are, I believe you are one of the few students he has had in a long time who have truly challenged him as a teacher, and he will never admit it, but he appreciates the opportunity you have given him not to stagnate in his thinking as well.”
Then Lan Xichen’s smile turns mischievous, just a little. “Besides, you have already given him two wonderful grandnephews, and will likely give him more. How could he complain?”
“Brother-” Lan Zhan starts, ears red.
Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops, and he stares, wide-eyed, before the implications of Lan Xichen’s statement sinks in. His entire face flushes red, and he almost instinctively turns A-Yuan away, like somehow that would prevent A-Yuan from hearing what his uncle had just said.
Meng Yao snickers. “Wuxian, it’s the truth and we all know it- let’s just be glad that silencing talismans are as effective as they are, alright?”
Wei Wuxian glares, still instinctively trying to turn A-Yuan away from the conversation, and he can really only narrow his eyes at the other omega as Meng Yao continues laughing softly. “Meng Yao, I swear-”
In Lan Zhan’s arms, A-Li yawns, loud and long, and it sets A-Yuan off as well, as his son sags in his arms and offers up a softer but no less obvious yawn, and Wei Wuxian can only shoot Meng Yao one last half-hearted glare before he offers quick goodbye and good night, then makes his way into the Jingshi’s adjoining room to put A-Yuan down for the night.
Behind him, he hears Lan Zhan offer his brother and Meng Yao a far more polite farewell, then the sound of the door closing and Lan Zhan makes his way into the room as well, settling A-Li into his cot.
Wei Wuxian shakes his head ruefully once the children are settled and well on their way to dreamland, making his way back to the main room of the Jingshi. “Lan Zhan ah Lan Zhan, have we ever forgotten to activate the silencing talismans before?”
His alpha shrugs. “They do not need to have heard anything to know.”
“Wha-”
The corner of Lan Zhan’s lip ticks up, just a little, and he gestures to Wei Wuxian’s throat, where the purple-red discolouration of a lovebite is very obvious, peeking out over the edge of Wei Wuxian’s collar.
Oh.
Wei Wuxian slaps a hand to his forehead. “Lan Zhan, I’m an idiot, has this been on show the entire day? No wonder Jiang Cheng kept glaring at me!”
“Only for the last few hours of the conference,” his (asshole, complete asshole) alpha says.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Lan Zhan shrugs again, and nudges Wei Wuxian into sitting down in front of him once more. “Harmless.”
Wei Wuxian splutters, words already on the tip of his tongue, but then there are strong, calloused fingertips back against his scalp, rubbing lightly and massaging sandalwood oil into his skin, and abruptly all thoughts fly out of his head. He purrs unwittingly, and sinks into his alpha’s touch.
Ah, who needed comebacks when Lan Zhan’s fingers felt this great anyway.