Chapter Text
1
Wei Wuxian sits tiredly on the steps to one of the abandoned buildings in Yiling. He has, once again, failed to sell enough radishes to make the money they so desperately need. He sighs deeply, lost in thought, when a woman walks hesitantly up to him.
“Young master, if you don’t mind me interrupting…” she says slowly.
Wei Wuxian looks up at her and fixes a smile on his face. “How can I be of service?” he asks. He tries to help the people of Yiling, even despite the malicious rumors of him that abound there. He hopes that if it comes to it, they might have just the slightest of qualms about storming the home of the man who had helped them load their rice into a cart, or the man that offered them directions when they were hopelessly lost.
“If you don’t mind me saying, Young Master,” she says, “you look like you’re not having much success.”
Wei Wuxian sighs. “Is it that obvious, miss?” he asks wryly.
“Yiling is a difficult town to stay employed in,” the woman tells him. “But someone like you…” she trails off, biting her lip.
Wei Wuxian furrows his brow. Someone like him? Does she mean a cultivator? Can she tell? Does she know who he is? Before he can ask, she continues speaking.
“Forgive me, Young Master but I have seen you come here often. You look to have undergone some heavy burdens in the past months.”
That, he has. He is living on a mountain of corpses with a group of refugees, he is the only thing keeping the resentful energy at bay, they are all going hungry, and there are only so many nutrients one can get from a radish-only diet, but he can’t say that to the nice lady who is worried about him, so he lets her continue.
“If you are having trouble making a living… perhaps you might have better luck seeking an alternate form of employment?”
What is she talking about?
“I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, miss,” he says as politely as he can, trying not to show how genuinely baffled by this conversation.
“That is to say…” she leans in closer and lowers her voice, “perhaps you might have heard that the Yiling Patriarch is taking concubines?”
“Uhhh…”
“I’m sure he would be unopposed to a face like yours,” the woman says, then blushes. “That is to say- I-” she splutters before hurriedly blurting out, “They say he has an eye for beauty.”
Wei Wuxian nearly chokes. No matter where he had thought this conversation was headed, it wasn’t this. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, wishing he had put a stop to Wen Qing’s ridiculous idea as soon as she had come up with it. He wishes too, that the ground would open up and swallow him where he stood.
The woman, unfortunately, interprets this as fear of the Yiling Patriarch.
Who is him.
Who he would definitely not be afraid of even if he was a separate person, least of all because the Yiling Patriarch spends his days farming radishes, washing clothes, and playing with a child.
“You needn’t be afraid,” she assures him hastily. “I know they say he does horrible things, but I’ve heard he is kind to his concubines.”
Well, he does try to be kind to everyone at the Burial Mounds, so…
“Whenever they come down to Yiling, they seem cheerful and healthy, and they appear to be treated well.”
They have spent significantly less time subsisting on radishes alone than the rest of them, so that makes sense.
“If I may be so bold… I overheard one of them brag to a teashop owner about how thoroughly he satisfies them.”
He chokes. That he definitely blames on Liu Chunhua- she is undoubtedly the one of his ‘concubines’ who has taken to that cover story with an unholy glee. He also wishes he would be struck by lightning, so he could escape this truly mortifying conversation. Only the sweet release of death will spare him the embarrassment. To further add to his mortification, he blushes furiously, which the woman clearly interprets in a salacious manner if her smirk is anything to go by.
“You should think about it, Young Master,” she says. “When one has a pretty face, one must use it to their full advantage!”
“I… uhhh…”
“I apologize if I have overstepped,” she says- now, after everything she has already said- then quickly excuses herself, walking away humming a cheerful tune, like she hasn’t just suggested that Wei Wuxian offer to be his own concubine to escape a life of having to sell radishes grown in the Burial Mounds.
He huffs. How bold are people these days? To suggest such a thing to a stranger!
It’s only when he leaves that he realizes that the building whose steps he had been sitting on was a recently abandoned brothel. He supposes that might explain the woman’s boldness. Too bad she hadn’t offered a real solution to his current problem.
2
Lan Wangji tries not to listen to rumors about Wei Ying. They are never honest. They always paint him as a monster, as a madman, a murderer, a heretic. The rumors, he supposes, are exciting to the common folk, and help whip the cultivation world into a frenzy. Every conference they have ends with at least one sect leader frothing at the mouth while spitting insults about the Yiling Patriarch.
So, Lan Wangji tries not to listen to the rumors.
Except one time, when he cannot help but hear them.
He is at a discussion conference where a disciple from the Cai sect is eagerly giving his testimony after spending weeks staking out Yiling. He has had no good things to say about the town, nor has he gotten a single glimpse of Wei Ying, which Lan Wangji is glad for. The less contact Wei Ying has with the cultivators who despise him, the safer he will be.
“... but I did see some very interesting women,” the disciple is saying.
If Lan Wangji was anyone else, this would have made him roll his eyes. Does this disciple truly think that his encounters with the women of Yiling are of importance to the conference? He cannot stomach it if this turns into a round of bawdy jokes. He is only here to see if there is a possibility that he might speak for Wei Ying— Wei Ying who has followed his heart and done what he believes to be just, and is now facing the censure of the cultivation world for it.
“There were three women I saw at a tea house,” the disciple continues, “and the people of Yiling seemed to know them well. In fact, when I asked one of the patrons, he told me some very interesting information. You see,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “The women were the Yiling Patriarch’s concubines.”
Lan Wangji stiffens. He hates the cold, ugly feeling that makes itself known to him as it envelops him.
The room erupts. There are cries about how this is further evidence of the Yiling Patriarch’s degeneracy, to try and acquire an entire harem of women. There are suggestions that he must have tired of the ghost girls he no doubt used to take to bed, because why else would he have kept them around? There are more cries, suggestions of potentially kidnapping one of the women and ransoming her.
All Lan Wangji feels is bitter envy.
All his life, he has been taught to be above petty emotions like jealousy, but something about Wei Ying just brings it out in him. He desires Wei Ying like nothing he has ever desired before, he wants to claim Wei Ying with an intensity that terrifies him somehow. The thought of Wei Ying with anyone else makes his heart ache and his blood boil.
He knows he only has himself to blame. He has spent Wei Ying’s entire time at Cloud Recesses pushing Wei Ying away. He has spent the entire Sunshot Campaign having disagreement after disagreement with him— his words always coming out wrong, Wei Ying always misunderstanding them. Wei Ying has no idea of his feelings, and for good reason— Lan Wangji has hidden them behind glares and silence, for the fear that Wei Ying would know somehow, and now he cannot blame anyone else for how things have turned out.
He has no claim on Wei Ying.
But when he pictures Wei Ying smiling at someone else the way he smiled at Lan Wangji, when he thinks of Wei Ying twirling a lock of someone else’s hair as he teases them in a low, flirtatious voice, when he thinks of Wei Ying kissing someone else-
The teacup in his grip shatters.
A few looks come his way. His brother looks worried. He hears one sect leader mutter “Hanguang-jun must be so distrubed by this depravity” and is very grateful that he does not blush noticeably, because if anything, his thoughts were more depraved than anything Wei Ying has been accused of doing today. His mind has automatically filled with images of himself journeying to Yiling and boldly offering to be Wei Ying’s concubine himself, images of what that might entail, exactly.
He reassures himself that the rumour is fake, like all the other rumours are. For all he knows, the women just happen to be some of the Wen remnants and the people of Yiling had simply drawn their own conclusions, perhaps because the women are attractive. Wei Ying may flirt like he breathes, but it is almost never with any true intent. After all, he had flirted with Lan Wangji on occasion, hadn’t he? And that had led to nothing.
He convinces himself that the rumors are fake.
It is the only way he can keep his heart whole.
3
They lie in their bed in the Jingshi, sated and content, Wei Wuxian pillowing his head on Lan Wangji’s arm. Finally, after years, the grief has abated enough that Wei Wuxian finds it in himself to be able to talk about the people in the Burial Mounds, so he speaks about them with increasing frequency these days.
“You know how I have a weird amount of knowledge about what dyes and threads have been used to make your clothing?” he asks.
Lan Wangji nuzzles the top of Wei Wuxian’s head. “Wei Ying has a lot of knowledge about a lot of things,” he says fondly.
“Well, this knowledge in particular came from Lei Xiuying.” His voice is soft as he recalls the stories Lei Xiuying told him of her life— the happy ones and the sad ones.
“Who was she to you?” Lan Wangji asks, pulling Wei Wuxian back from where he had nealy gotten lost in his own memories.
“Unofficially, she was the seamstress for all of the Burial Mounds. Officially though, she was my concubine.” Wei Wuxian let out a bright laugh, unaware of the way Lan Wangji’s face had turned into a grimace, or what passed for one when Lan Wangji was involved, anyway. “Oh, Lan Zhan, I haven’t told you that story, have I?”
“No.” The word is short and clipped as Lan Wangji’s old jealousy burns unpleasantly, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t notice, lost in remembrance.
“Wen Qing used to bring these women to the Burial Mounds because they needed protection from someone or the other,” Wei Wuxian explained, looking that particular mixture of fond and wistful he always did when he talked about Wen Qing. “She needed a story to protect them from whatever trouble they were looking to escape from, so she would spread the rumors that they were my concubines, so people would know they had my protection.”
“Mn.”
Wei Wuxian sighs. “I guess the rumors of the Yiling Patriarch’s concubines didn't make it to the rest of the cultivation world, huh?”
Lan Wangji cannot hide the displeasure in his voice. “I heard them.”
“You did?” Wei Wuxian frowns, then grins, bright and mischievous. He turns in Lan Wangji’s arms to face his husband. “Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan, did you really hear those old stories?”
“Mn.”
Lan Wangji’s face remains stiff at the reminder of the unpleasant information. Wei Wuxian’s face, though, brightens further. He moves quickly to straddle his husband and looks down at him with an incredibly satisfied look.
“Tell me, Lan Zhan,” he drawls teasingly, “Were you jealous when you heard?”
Lan Wangji refuses to answer, staring pointedly at Wei Wuxian, but when his husband pulls his hair slightly, then pouts playfully, he finds himself unable to resist.
“I was,” he admits, the tips of his ears flushing pink in embarrassment.
Wei Wuxian lets out a pleased laugh. He cups Lan Wangji’s cheek gently and smiles at him, sweet and seductive.
“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” he says, his voice drops low and fills with heat. “You can be the Yiling Patriarch’s concubine now. The only one, in fact.”
“Mark your words,” Lan Wangji practically growls.
“Oh, consider them marked,” Wei Wuxian purrs back. Then, he leans down to kiss his husband, slowly and deliberately, pulling back and looking at him, a challenge in his eyes.
It takes less than a few moments for Lan Wangji to pull him back down immediately.
By the end of the night, Lan Wangji’s jealousy is sated quite thoroughly.