Chapter Text
ENDING
i'm scared to chase what i've been dreaming
beyond a want and now i need it
push me by surprise
so i can take the dive
The first few days following the takeover were busy and far too full of meetings.
Then again, thought Wen Qing ruefully, that was really her own fault. She was the one who had orchestrated the overthrow of Wen Ruohan and willingly taken his place as sect leader. One of the rigors of leadership was, unfortunately, meetings. A lot of meetings. Meetings to secure her standing as leader among the Wen, meetings to reaffirm her alliances with the other sects, meetings to decide what to do with the wreckage of the Fire Palace, meetings upon meetings upon meetings.
Despite the interminable amount of meetings, Wen Qing considered that the takeover to be on the whole a success. There had been very little objection to her claiming the title of sect leader, probably because no one wanted to provoke the alpha who’d somehow gotten the Monster of Yiling on her side.
She herself felt only relief that Wei Wuxian had actually upheld his end of the bargain. She’d been afraid for a bit at the end there that he would forget himself and set the whole place awash with blood. It would be most difficult for a clan leader to lead if she let her ally murder her whole clan.
But no, Wei Wuxian had restrained himself. He had in fact been most cooperative - in more ways than one.
Two days after they had secured the palace, a knock at Wen Qing’s door had interrupted her. She was not expecting visitors, and had she still occupied her old position of doctor, she would have been irate at the interruption. It had come at a time of day during which she had explicitly requested to be left alone.
Unfortunately, one of the burdens of a sect leader was that there were now innumerable amounts of people who might reasonably need to interrupt her at any given time. And so Wen Qing had sighed, suppressed her irritation and called: “Come in!”
The door had creaked open. Hesitantly, almost shyly, a tall fierce corpse garbed in black and red eased in and shut the door behind him.
“Wen-zongzhu?”
Wen Qing blinked. It took her a moment to place that voice; it was more confident and assured than she remembered. Then she was up in a flash, hurrying across the room to fling her arms around her brother.
“A-Ning!” she exclaimed with delight. It had been so, so long since she’d gotten the opportunity to visit him. “What are you doing here?”
“Wei-zongzhu sent for me,” Wen Ning replied, relaxing into the hug. “He suggested that I might be more useful to you than to him. So I came here to see if you needed me.”
Wen Qing smiled. She drew back slightly and smoothed a tendril of limp dead hair off Wen Ning’s face.
“Of course I need you,” she told him. “And if I didn’t need you, I’d want you. With that asshole dead, there’s no need for you to rot away in the Burial Mounds anymore. If you want to come here and live with me, I’ll find a position for you.”
“I would like that,” Wen Ning agreed shyly.
Beaming, Wen Qing tugged him into another tight hug.
“So,” said Jin Zixuan, a little awkwardly.
Jiang Yanli smiled at him affectionately. “Yes?” she replied.
“I will, of course, write.”
“Yes,” she agreed immediately. “I will look forward to that.”
“And you will, perhaps, write back?”
“Of course!” she exclaimed, smiling more encouragingly still. “We’ll visit each other too, won’t we?”
“Yes,” agreed Jin Zixuan, voice stiff and scent anxious as ever. “Yes, indeed. Frequently.”
Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang, and a handful of the other young cultivators who’d fought side-by-side with them in the final engagement stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching this disaster of a conversation.
“They’re so awkward,” Nie Huaisang moaned. “I despair of them, really.”
“I hate him,” Jiang Cheng muttered, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s dramatics. “I don’t know what she sees in him, I really don’t.”
“He’s rich?” suggested Luo Qingyang, eyebrows raised. “Although you’re right; she wouldn’t be so gooey-eyed if it was just his wealth.”
“I think that she would make him an excellent mate,” put in Qin Su, getting right to the point in that uncomfortably accurate way of hers. “It would pull him right out of his shell and give him backbone. Which is a terribly inaccurate turtle analogy, but you get my point.”
“I’m the one doomed to marry him,” objected Jiang Cheng. “And besides, our parents - "
"Parents can be dealt with," said Qin Su serenely. She continued to argue her point in a cheerful, logic-resistant fashion which had Luo Qingyang giggling appreciatively and Jiang Cheng turning redder and redder with confused indignation.
Nie Huaisang watched this drama, more amused than anything. He suspected Qin Su was just causing a fuss to entertain Luo Qingyang, but it was an interesting fuss nonetheless.
Almost as interesting as the fuss that would ensue once everyone back home found out just what Nie Huaisang's brother planned to do with the issue of Lan Xichen and Meng Yao...
Lan Xichen found himself very much enjoying his newfound freedom.
He had left the quarters assigned to him by Wen Ruohan, and moved into a different set which he shared with Lan Wangji. It eased his nerves to be close to his sibling again, where he could be assured that Lan Wangji was healthy and well. Though Lan Wangji hadn’t said so, Lan Xichen had a sneaking suspicion that his brother felt much the same way about him.
Much of the past few days had been spent in close consultation with Wen Qing - now sect leader Wen - regarding the occupation of Gusu. She had agreed that Qishan would relinquish control of certain controversially claimed provinces, including Gusu, but that agreement still required a lot of details to be hashed out before it could be formalized.
Declaring a victor of the marriage competition had proved significantly less difficult. In order to satisfy those clans who had risked so much to support Nie Mingjue, Wen Qing had declared the Nie heir to be the final victor. She had awarded him several very nice treasures as a prize, but had not awarded him Lan Xichen’s marriage contract.
Instead, she had announced that now that Gusu belonged to itself again, Lan Xichen’s betrothal was a matter to be decided by his alpha family. No one complained about this. Indeed, it was seen as very good news indeed: a sign that this new Wen sect leader was not likely to follow in her predecessor’s overbearing tracks and interfere in private clan affairs.
Lan Xichen suspected that once they returned to the Cloud Recesses, Lan Qiren would voice his support for a betrothal to Nie Mingjue. Lan Wangji, however, had been very clear that he would allow his omega sibling to choose his own mate. This was unusual behavior from a sect leader, who ought to arrange an advantageous marriage, but Lan Wangji always had possessed more stubbornness than political sense.
And so, given liberty to choose, Lan Xichen had come to a decision. He would marry Nie Mingjue. He would do it not just because it was the politically advisable thing to do, but because he cared for Nie Mingjue and knew that Nie Mingjue cared for him.
He was, however, determined to work Meng Yao into the mix as well. Lan Xichen was not certain yet how that would work, but he was confident that something could be arranged. It just depended on what Meng Yao’s own plans were, and what his obligations to Wei Wuxian looked like.
It was not until the night before they were all scheduled to depart that the three of them managed to scrape together enough time to sit down and seriously discuss the subject.
They met in one of the larger, less-frequented palace gardens, where they could be assured of relative privacy. Lan Xichen arrived first, then Nie Mingjue, and lastly Meng Yao.
Lan Xichen greeted each of them with pleased kisses. He could not forget how uncertain of his affections they had been, and was determined to reassure his mates that he did in fact desire both of them. Then, giving in to a mischievous streak of humor which he did not get to indulge nearly often enough, he encouraged them to greet each other with kisses as well.
Meng Yao, he noticed, had grown bolder with regard to kissing. The beta seemed to particularly enjoy his newfound ability to fluster Nie Mingjue with wrist kisses: teasing licks of tongue against scent glands, accompanied by a softly appealing beta scent. Lan Xichen approved of both these things: Meng Yao’s boldness, and Nie Mingjue’s flushed, pleased face…
When at last they had more or less sated their desire for physical affection, they turned to the more serious discussion which needed to be held.
“I plan on asking for Xichen’s hand in marriage,” Nie Mingjue said immediately, blunt as ever. “That is, if he’ll accept me?”
“Of course,” Lan Xichen agreed easily. “Although I’m sure my uncle will insist on all the usual negotiations and ceremony before anything is formalized.” He added: “In any case, I don’t want to marry right away. I would like to spend some time in Gusu helping Wangji to rebuild. He’ll need me until things are more stable there.”
Nie Mingjue nodded. “Makes sense. And what about you?” he asked, turning to Meng Yao. “Are you going back to Yiling?”
“I don’t know,” said Meng Yao cautiously. “Master told me that I was free to leave if I wanted. I don’t think he expects my loyalty the way a normal sect leader would.”
“You could come to Gusu with me,” offered Lan Xichen immediately. “I think you would enjoy helping with the rebuild.”
“I would like to visit there,” Meng Yao admitted. He added, a touch guiltily: “I also need to fetch and return those items you left with me. I passed by Yunping on my way to Jinlintai, and hid them in the brothel there - in a safe place where my mother used to hide the books she purchased for me.”
“Clever,” murmured Lan Xichen, impressed at this ingenuity. “Well, there’s no rush. I suspect, given how unsettled everything is just now, that they’re probably safer there than in what’s left of the Cloud Recesses.”
“You should come to Qinghe, too,” Nie Mingjue announced, following his own train of thought. “You’d like it there. I want to show you our armory - there are lots of interesting weapons to choose from there. You ought to have something of your own to wield.”
Meng Yao smiled at him. “I would enjoy the chance to visit Huaisang,” he agreed, and laughed when Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes and tugged him in for an exasperated kiss.
Lan Xichen waited, amused, until they separated before he said: “A-Yao, you don’t have to decide what you want to do now, of course. There’s plenty of time. But I was serious when I said I wanted to work something out with both of you. I would love it if you could join us in Qinghe after we marry.”
“I’ve been looking into that,” admitted Meng Yao. “There are some sects which practice a form of cultivation which includes a three-way bond between an alpha, beta and omega. It’s not common, but it is done. It might be interesting to try something of that sort.”
“Sounds interesting,” rumbled Nie Mingjue. “Might boost your cultivation too, make it easier for you to form a core.”
“Yes, I was thinking that,” Meng Yao agreed, turning eagerly to him. “It would require more research, of course.”
“So we have options,” Lan Xichen summarized. Some of the tension he’d been carrying with him relaxed; he’d been so afraid that one or the other of his mates would not share his desire to work this out.
“Yes,” agreed Nie Mingjue. He reached around Meng Yao, who was sitting sandwiched in the middle of the bench, and squeezed Lan Xichen’s knee. “Now can we get back to the kissing?”
Lan Xichen laughed - and assented with pleasure.
Quite some time passed before Meng Yao finally disentangled himself from his partners, inventing an excuse involving Wei Wuxian and a vaguely described errand.
He threaded his way through the garden, still a bit disoriented. It was hard to think through the intense glow of happiness pulsing deep within his bones, hard to shake off the dreamy contentment which suffused him. And yet, he needed to think.
It was true that he wanted everything he’d said he did: a chance to visit Gusu, Qinghe, to be part of a bonded trio - and yet, he did not share his mates’ confidence in a perfect happy ending. Meng Yao was a practical person. He had not forgotten how little the vast majority of cultivation society approved of him, and doubted that the rest of the Nie and Lan would find him as appealing as Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen did.
It was all very well to talk happily of a future in Qinghe or Gusu - but what did that really mean? What would he do there? Would he have a chance to become a real cultivator, someone who could influence events and win respect? Or would he become nothing more than an exotic bit of decor, beloved by his mates and avoided by everyone else?
“Having fun?”
The low, amused drawl made him jump. Meng Yao froze and looked over at a tangle of bushes. It took him a moment to make out with his physical sight that which he had immediately registered as a deep, infinite abyss of resentful energy: Wei Wuxian standing with his arms crossed, watching Meng Yao with open amusement.
Meng Yao flushed beneath his master’s gaze. He realized suddenly just how disheveled he looked, and hastily tried to straighten his clothes. His hair, however, was a wreck - there was nothing to be done about that.
“Relax,” said Wei Wuxian, in a voice on the verge of laughter. “You deserve a little rough and tumble after this past couple of months. I suppose those two have offered you a place with them?”
“Yes,” admitted Meng Yao, grateful that the night gloom prevented Wei Wuxian from seeing his embarrassment, though his master could probably detect it in his scent.
“Good,” replied Wei Wuxian, satisfied. “I like to see a happy ending. You’re still welcome to stay with me, of course - I’d adore handing off sect leader duties to you and taking a vacation - perhaps to Gusu; heaven knows a permanent vacay there seems very attractive, although - ah, never mind that. What I mean is, if things don’t go well with your pair of mates, you’re always welcome to return to Yiling while you figure things out.”
Meng Yao stared disapprovingly at him. “You oughtn’t to joke about things like that.”
“Like what?” Wei Wuxian blinked at him, baffled. “Letting you know that you’re welcome to come back anytime? You should know that already; I’ve explained it before.”
“Not that,” said Meng Yao, dismissing Wei Wuxian’s sense of duty. “That bit about me taking over sect leader responsibilities. I would never presume to usurp your position like that.”
“Oh, that wasn’t a joke,” Wei Wuxian reassured him. “I am absolutely serious. If you want to take over Yiling, I’d hand it over in a heartbeat. Well. Maybe not quite so fast as that. You’d need a proper orientation, some shadowing, possibly an internship - let’s say a year or two? You’d also want to buff up on your demonic cultivation; you’ll need it to scare off the occasional squad of murderous assassins.”
“Master, I don’t - ”
“You don’t want to take over? Well, I can’t say I blame you. I understand; I hate being in charge of a sect, too. I suppose I just thought that you had enough workaholic in you not to mind all the dreadfully dull things like reports and budgets and meetings. You’d have us rolling in profit by the end of the first quarter.”
“But of course, you won’t want to try,” Wei Wuxian continued mournfully, while Meng Yao stared at him, incredulous. “It would put quite a cramp in your romantic life, after all. Qinghe and Gusu are very picturesque. Yiling is all right - but the Burial Mounds? Not exactly a tourist destination.”
Meng Yao had observed Wei Wuxian for too long now to be fooled by these glib phrases. He said, slightly strangled:
“You’ve suffered so much to defend the Burial Mounds - how can you give that up so easily?”
“Well, I would have to give it up to the right person, of course,” said Wei Wuxian, reasonably. “And you are the right person. I knew it the moment I sensed you try to teleport yourself and your mates off that cliff. I mean, sure, you did impress me quite a lot during your probationary period. It’s not everyone who can get the whole of the Burial Mounds eating out of their palm in under a month - why, Wen Ning even trusted you with the accounts! He doesn’t even trust me with those.”
He took a breath, and went on: “But it wasn’t your brilliance, charm or dubious morals that sold me. It was, like I said, that decision to sacrifice yourself to save two people whom you didn’t even think liked you. That’s the sort of thing that isn't easy to do, and which is unfortunately part of my job description. Everyone will hate you, and you’ll need the backbone to die for them anyway.”
“Well!” Wei Wuxian concluded this speech by clapping his hands together. "That's enough rambling from me. Off to bed with you, disciple mine. Tomorrow, you’ll be heading off on a long journey somewhere with a handsome alpha and omega - and you’ll want your beauty sleep.”
He winked and disappeared with a small pop, leaving Meng Yao to stare at the space where he had just been.
Wei Wuxian's words replayed in his head: everyone will hate you, and you’ll need the backbone to die for them anyway. Yes, they shared that particular quality, didn’t they? Meng Yao knew what it was like to be hated for things his mother had done, or more accurately, had been forced to do. He knew also what it was like to be forced into using underhanded means to accomplish his ends, and to be hated for that too. He knew what it was like to be alone and unwanted, to be desperate for human companionship, and to be sick with misery at the knowledge that he would never, ever earn it.
He thought, with slow surprise: I know what it’s like to be Wei Wuxian…
Wei Wuxian reappeared just outside the doors of the suite of rooms the Lan siblings had taken over. He rapped loudly on the door and sparkled happily a few moments later when Lan Wangji opened it and blinked at him in surprise.
“You’re not my brother,” said Lan Wangji, with blank confusion.
Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose. “I should hope not,” he said, and fluttered his lashes. “Will you let me in, Lan Zhan? I have something to tell you.”
Lan Wangji blinked at him again, then stepped aside to let him pass. Wei Wuxian strolled inside and wandered about the room, admiring the artwork on the walls, stalling for time.
“What did you want to tell me?”
Ah. Yes, that. Wei Wuxian sighed and turned around.
“You might not like it,” he warned. “I probably should have told you before but, well, I’ve been enjoying your company so much! I didn’t want you to get all irritated and start ignoring me. We’re scheduled to leave tomorrow - me to the Burial Mounds and you to Gusu - so it won't matter if you're angry with me then, does it? You can't ignore me when we're not together!”
He nodded with satisfaction at this slightly skewed logic. Lan Wangji just frowned in very Lan Wangji fashion, and waited for him to continue.
“All right, all right,” Wei Wuxian said, sighing again - more dramatically this time in an attempt to conceal his nerves. “Here goes. You and I once knew each other as children.”
Lan Wangji stared. “I have no memory of this.”
“Ah. Well, you wouldn’t.” Wei Wuxian shuffled his feet nervously, then went straight to the point, forgoing further conversational tricks. “My mother dropped me off in the Cloud Recesses when I was about eight. She asked your uncle to look after me, and so I stayed there for a few months. It was a very lovely few months," he added, nostalgically. "We liked to run off and play with the rabbits in the back hills. Your uncle was so worried I’d convince you to sneak one back into one of the buildings, but I never did.”
Lan Wangji’s brow furrowed. “I have no memory of this,” he repeated, more anxiously this time.
“I know. Lan Zhan, I erased it.”
“Erased what?”
“Your memory.” Wei Wuxian waved an agitated hand. “And not just yours. Everyone’s. What can I say? I felt my mother die one night, and realized that I had to choose. I could stay in the Cloud Recesses under a false name and learn to be human again, or I could go back to the Burial Mounds and take up where my mother left off. I don’t just mean avenging her," he clarified. "I mean keeping Wen Ruohan from figuring out demonic cultivation and using it to destroy the jianghu. You saw what he was like at the end there! He’d have pulled some of those tricks sooner, if I hadn’t been around to scare him into a truce.”
Lan Wangji was not distracted by this tangent. He looked at Wei Wuxian with grave eyes, and said: “You chose to become a monster.”
Wei Wuxian winced, the words striking home. “I suppose I did,” he admitted. “But what else could I do?”
“You were a child,” said Lan Wangji, softer still. “You shouldn’t have had to choose anything.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan! If only the world were so kind.”
Lan Wangji looked at him for a moment, then held open his arms. Wei Wuxian blinked, took a moment to decipher this gesture, then came cautiously forward and let Lan Wangji pull him into an embrace.
“Stay with me tonight,” Lan Wangji said, muffled into his hair. Wei Wuxian wondered briefly how he could stand doing that, since the horrible death-smell illusion was still in place. “My brother is otherwise occupied and will not intrude. I do not know when we will be able to meet next, and I would like to enjoy you while I can.”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t help himself. He shook aside the incipient pang of loneliness, and smirked into Lan Wangji’s shoulder.
“Why, Lan Zhan,” he drawled. “I would only be too pleased for you to enjoy me.”
Lan Wangji smiled - actually smiled! - and silenced the suggestive waggle of Wei Wuxian's eyebrows with a kiss.
It had been arranged for all the competition guests to depart on the same day. Since there were so many different sects and clans present in Nightless City, an elaborate schedule had been drawn up to organize the problem of who would depart when. This would hopefully prevent the roads of Qishan from clogging with too many traffic jams. Most of the delegations included servants and staff who weren’t cultivators, and so they couldn’t all just fly home.
The Yiling Wei sect had been scheduled to depart mid-morning, but Xue Yang woke early, before the crack of dawn, too full of nerves to sleep in. He dressed, stuffed his few belongings into a satchel which he slung over one shoulder, and then waded into the chaos which reigned in the palace district.
The streets were full of people, horses and luggage as everyone scrambled to pack up and depart as soon as their scheduled time arrived. It took some very determined wandering to find a path through the crowds, but at last Xue Yang arrived at his destination: the inn where Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen had been staying.
He ascended the stairs and barged uninvited into their room, hoping gleefully to startle them awake. Unfortunately, both were already not only wide awake, but involved in their own last-minute packing.
Xue Yang scowled.
“And just where are you two going?” he demanded, bracing his fists on his hips.
The pair of rogue cultivators looked over at him - Xiao Xingchen in a startled manner, Song Lan merely irritable.
“We are leaving,” explained Xiao Xingchen. “We have fulfilled the duty which my shizhi tasked me with, and now we are free to wander in pursuit of justice again.”
Xue Yang had never cared much about justice. On the other hand, he did care - maybe, sort of - about Xiao Xingchen. Or at the very least, he enjoyed Xiao Xingchen’s company and wanted more of it. They had had great fun setting traps and fighting Wen together.
And Song Lan was all right too, though a bit of a stick-in-the-mud.
“Can I come with you?” Xue Yang asked abruptly. “Master won’t mind; people come and go all the time from Yiling.”
Xiao Xingchen brightened. Song Lan sighed.
“I’d love to have you, if you’re sure your master won’t mind,” Xiao Xingchen replied. “It would be an honor to seek justice together.”
“Justice,” repeated Xue Yang. He favored Xiao Xingchen with a mischievous leer. “Yeah, I’d seek justice with you any day.”
He was rewarded by a very pretty blush from Xiao Xingchen - and yet another aggrieved sigh from the direction of Song Lan.
The Lan, Nie and Jiang had all been granted the earliest departure slots out of deference for their high status within the cultivation world. This meant, of course, that they would be leaving just before dawn, when the sky had yet to unveil the sun, and the air still sang with the sounds of night insects.
Despite Wei Wuxian’s general disinclination to wake any time earlier than noon, he was forced to rise early in order to bid Lan Wangji farewell. They spent a pleasant, though very brief, morning together, then made their way down to the broad avenue in front of the palace which had been cleared to stage the departing traffic.
The streets surrounding this avenue were loud and busy, full of last-minute departure activity. Wei Wuxian lost track of Lan Wangji and ambled aimlessly through the crowds, yawning, nursing a cup of very strong tea, and seriously contemplating the idea of going back to bed.
“Master!”
Wei Wuxian turned and saw Xue Yang shoving his way forward, followed by Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan.
So it’s time, he thought, and for all that he had been predicting this moment for years, could not suppress a quiet pang at the realization that this conversation had finally arrived.
At least Xue Yang, in typical Xue Yang fashion, was utterly unsentimental about it.
“I’m leaving,” he announced. “I’m going to wander the world and kick ass with these two. Do I need to submit a resignation or anything? I never fucking know when you decide to indulge in bureaucracy.”
Wei Wuxian sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said fondly. “You can go as you please.”
Xue Yang beamed. “Thanks!” he said, and hooked his arms through his companions’. “C’mon,” he said brightly, dragging them off. “I’m exhausted. Let’s go find that tea vendor - ”
“That’s it?” Wei Wuxian heard Xiao Xingchen say, a touch incredulously. “That’s all that you…”
They disappeared into the crowd, their voices lost in the general hubbub. Wei Wuxian sighed again. So that was that. He’d lost Xue Yang, who had been with him for so long - the very first disciple he’d accepted as his own.
Him and Wen Ning, thought Wei Wuxian.
He had caught a glimpse of the sentient fierce corpse earlier, moving through the crowd on some errand from his sister. He’d always known, of course, that Wen Ning would return to Wen Qing once Wen Ruohan had been disposed of. Wei Wuxian took another sip of tea, lost for a moment in vivid remembrance of the day Wen Qing had first come to the Burial Mounds: a scared, defiant teenager hauling the chained corpse of her younger brother behind her, long before she'd started recruiting allies to aid in Wen Ruohan's demise.
Wei Wuxian swallowed the tea and shook these maudlin memories away. All that was ancient history. Wen Ruohan was dead, Wen Qing was sect leader, and Wen Ning was now happily installed at his sister’s side.
Wei Wuxian would miss him, of course. But then, he would miss everyone who was leaving him today. Xue Yang, Wen Ning, Lan Wangji, Meng Yao… all of whom had people and places they prioritized more.
And was that so surprising? Wei Wuxian had always known that he had chosen to walk a lonely road - a single-plank bridge in the dark. There was no sense in regretting his choice to become the Monster of Yiling. He had made that choice, and he must live with the consequences.
It was entirely his own fault that no one ever wanted to stay with him.
Wei Wuxian shook off the dawning melancholy. He turned his attention back to the group of people now assembling on the avenue, searching for faces he recognized. Almost immediately, he spotted the Nie and Lan siblings, all four of them seated high on horseback and very visible over the chaos.
His gaze tracked over them, one by one. Nie Huaisang was watching this confusion of people shout, mingle and valiantly attempt to sort out the various logistical challenges of departing all at once. Lan Wangji hung back at the edge of the crowd, where the crush of human bodies was slightly less dense. To his left, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue lingered near one another, conversing intently.
Wei Wuxian spotted Meng Yao’s small figure there too, fully enmeshed in that triangle of attention. He watched, amused, as Nie Mingjue bent down from his horse and somehow managed to sweep Meng Yao up into a kiss, the small beta all but lost in curve of Nie Mingjue’s sleeve. A very long moment passed in which Lan Xichen smiled benevolently at his pair of mates, while Lan Wangji stared stoically up at the sky and Nie Huaisang leaned over to watch, angled so far sideways that he nearly slipped from the saddle and fell.
At last, Meng Yao disentangled himself from Nie Mingjue and went over for another very long and very involved kiss with Lan Xichen. Then he extricated himself from that embrace and disappeared into the sea of people.
Wei Wuxian looked back up and focused his own eyes on Lan Wangji, reaching out with his senses to tug playfully at the alpha's forehead ribbon. Their eyes met over the heads of the crowd - Lan Wangji’s gaze dark, hot and hungry. Wei Wuxian’s head suddenly filled with memories of last night, and it was all he could do not to turn as red as the ribbon in his hair.
He controlled this instinct and, mischievously, smirked as seductively as he could manage, fluttering his eyelashes until Lan Wangji had to turn away, ears flushed pink.
Wei Wuxian grinned - only for that momentary satisfaction to fade when Lan Xichen leaned over to say something to Lan Wangji. The siblings looked remarkably alike - tall, beautiful and lit by sunrise -and there was a warm understanding, an affection and connection between them that had Wei Wuxian feeling suddenly hollow again.
He shook off the surge of melancholy and reapplied himself to observing the crowd. It was not long before he noticed Meng Yao weaving his way out from the edge of the horde, emerging onto the plaza with a smug, pleased, well-kissed look settled on his features.
“Good morning, Master,” said Meng Yao, once he’d fought free of arms, limbs and people carrying huge bundles of luggage. “You’re up early.”
“I have decided to become a morning person,” said Wei Wuxian airily, and grinned at the dubious expression this provoked from his disciple. “Have you tried the tea they’re selling over there? It’s enough to knock a horse awake.”
Meng Yao’s mouth quirked with amusement. He made some comment on the tea, and they settled into a pleasant rhythm of conversation while people continued to dodge around them. The sky began to gently lighten, the horizon fading from velvet black to subtle violet as night surrendered to day.
Then, at long last, the traffic began to move in earnest. The squashed groups of people separating themselves into distinct clans: individual color formations trickling down the wide avenue out of Nightless City. Wei Wuxian watched the purple colors of the Jiang disappear around a building, and turned to nudge Meng Yao.
“You’d better hurry,” he said. “The Nie are next, and the Lan after that. If you don’t run, you’ll miss your ride.”
“Ride?”
“Yes, ride,” replied Wei Wuxian, patiently. “To Qinghe or Gusu - whichever you’ve decided upon.”
“Ah,” said Meng Yao. He looked, suddenly, a touch embarrassed. “Well. Um. To tell the truth, I haven’t decided on either.”
Wei Wuxian stared at him. “Then where are you going?” he asked, surprised. “Don’t tell me you’re about to try your luck in Lanling again. I will sit you down and have a serious conversation about common sense and very long staircases, just you see.”
“I’m not going to Lanling,” replied Meng Yao, with a faintly exasperated look. “I’ve decided to return to the Burial Mounds with you.”
“The Burial Mounds?” echoed Wei Wuxian, baffled. “But why? Don’t tell me you actually enjoy the fine odor of corpses. I promise that both Qinghe and Gusu smell far nicer.”
“You said I could return there with you,” Meng Yao pointed out, ignoring this attempt at humor. “Are you retracting the offer?”
“No,” said Wei Wuxian, still perplexed. “No, of course not. But I don’t see why you would want to? You’ve got options, you know. Most of the people who stay in the Burial Mounds don’t.”
“I'm not most people,” said Meng Yao, still perfectly calm. “Or were you not serious about letting me run the place?”
Ah, so that was it. Wei Wuxian relaxed, suddenly understanding what was going on. Of course Meng Yao, a natural leader, would want to exercise his talents somewhere. Due to his notorious status within cultivator society, he probably had no opportunities to do so anywhere except the Burial Mounds.
And it would be nice to train someone to fill in for him occasionally. Wei Wuxian wistfully contemplated the possibility of vacations. He could not, of course, assume that Meng Yao would be interested in completely replacing him, but if the beta was willing to step in even occasionally…
“I was definitely serious about that,” Wei Wuxian assured him. “If you’re really that interested in the bureaucracy of demonic cultivation, that is. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you get plenty of time off to go frolic with your mates. And I won’t blame you if you decide to go off and frolic with them permanently.”
Meng Yao pinned him with another of those faintly exasperated looks.
“I’m not staying because I’m interested in bureaucracy,” he said patiently. “And although I do plan on frequently visiting my, ah, mates,” He paused, briefly flustered at this word, then went on: “I doubt I will be tempted to live with them permanently. The idea of staying with you appeals to me more.”
“But why?”
Meng Yao smiled. The sun had begun to rise in earnest now; the first rays of dawn shone down and set the red ribbon in his hair gently aglow.
“I don’t need a reason to stay with you,” Meng Yao said simply. “I just want to.”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to say something, found he had no idea what to say, and clicked his jaw shut again. Meng Yao nodded once, decisively, then took a step to the left and leaned against Wei Wuxian’s side in a companionable fashion, gazing down the wide avenue leading out of Nightless City where the first delegation was now vanishing into the bright horizon.
Wei Wuxian turned his head to look in that direction as well. The tension eased slowly from his body as first the Nie, then the Lan turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Through it all, Meng Yao remained perfectly still by Wei Wuxian's side, his demeanor calm, relaxed, and quiet save for the occasional hum of contentment.
Together, they watched the boundary of earth and sky glow with a brilliant array of colors, extinguishing the last of velvet night and promising a golden day.