Chapter Text
Using such large amounts of resentful energy did take a toll. The doctors insisted that Lan Wangji spend that night in the infirmary. They emphasized that he needed rest. They kept looking at Wei Wuxian when they did, as if he would somehow keep Lan Wangji awake if they let him sleep in the gentian house. As if Lan Wangji would let anything keep him from keeping the Lan schedule of sleeping at nine in the evening and rising at five in the morning!
The junior disciples all crowded into the infirmary to give Hanguang-jun their well-wishes. One of them had brought a pile of grading, apparently at Lan Wangji’s request, which Lan Wangji accepted gratefully. Wei Wuxian laughed to himself; it was hard to imagine the cold, stiff Lan Zhan of their youth being a teacher, but if the juniors were any indication, his students loved him.
The well-wishing quickly turned into excitedly catching Lan Wangji up on all that had occurred between when he was injured and now. There was hardly space for ten people in the infirmary, much less when eight of them were excitable juniors, so Wei Wuxian excused himself with a smile. Lan Wangji caught his eye with a soft look when he did. There was a promise there he did not entirely know how to interpret.
Wei Wuxian spent some time with Little Apple, but it was clear he was not needed there, either. There were carrots scattered in the grass showing that someone had been by recently to feed the rabbits. Little Apple accepted the one apple that Wei Wuxian had filched from the stables with her usual grace, then turned her back on him to continue grazing.
At the gentian house, he found Lan Wangji’s stash of joss paper. He didn’t think Lan Wangji would mind if he borrowed his brush and ink. He brought the lot with him back to the infirmary, whistling as he went.
By the time he returned, the infirmary was empty of juniors, as he had expected. Lan Wangji reclined in his cot, papers spread across a portable desk over his lap. Even in the simple setting, he looked so elegant and poised. Evening light illuminated the curve of his cheek and the long fall of his hair.
Wei Wuxian stepped inside, purposely making noise. Lan Wangji looked up without surprise.
“I thought I could join you with my own homework.” Wei Wuxian raised his pile of joss paper to illustrate.
Lan Wangji smiled. Wei Wuxian made himself comfortable on Lan Wangji’s cot at the opposite end. Lan Wangji made no comment when their legs pressed against each other where they were stretched out in front of them. Wei Wuxian idly hummed as he worked. When he glanced up, he saw that Lan Wangji was smiling at him.
When Lan Wangji was allowed to leave the infirmary, Wei Wuxian discovered why the doctors had been so disapproving of Wei Wuxian’s presence.
“Lan Zhan,” he gasped. “Surely this is exerting yourself too much?”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, biting and licking his way down his neck. “I must treat my husband well.”
“Lan-er-gege, you have a husband?” he gasped in horror.
Lan Wangji paused to give him a look. He tightened the white ribbon tied around Wei Wuxian’s wrists. Then he made sure that he paid for that.
The next morning, Wei Wuxian woke up to the bright shining sun and an empty bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He remembered last night and smiled to himself. Lan Wangji really had fallen asleep at nine like a good Lan, even with Wei Wuxian plastered to his side. Which meant he must already be up and about.
He went over to the cabinet where he had tossed his robes the night before. He stared. His clothes were missing.
A plain black inner robe that could pass for one of his at a glance was folded in their place. Exactly at the center of the black robes was a folded, outer disciple Gusu Lan forehead ribbon. He set it to the side and shook his head. Two white outer robes were folded beneath the black robe, he discovered. “Lans,” he said aloud as he shook the white robes out and took a look; they were obviously meant to be worn one over the other.
He (politely) tore apart the gentian house, but he could not find any other outer robes—just more variations on the Lan white or pale blue folded in neat rows. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the robes, now spread out on the covers. Should he wear only the black inner robe to go find Lan Wangji, surely breaking the Lan rule against immodest dress? Or should he wear the white robes, breaking the rule that only Lans can wear Lan robes?
Well. If he walked quickly, maybe no one would notice he was missing an outer robe.
He tugged on his black boots (thankfully not missing) and strode quickly out the door.
It took less time to find Lan Wangji than he expected. He was not in the infirmary, or the Cold Springs; he was walking through Cloud Recesses with his brother.
There was a brief moment when Wei Wuxian thought he would be able to hide behind a post before either Twin Jade noticed him. His hopes were dashed when Lan Xichen caught sight of him and raised an eyebrow. In a moment, two matching pairs of eyes were locked on him.
“Ah, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian said, smiling brightly and waving like this was very normal. He trotted (walked quickly) over. “I was just wondering if you’d seen my…erm.” He suddenly realized how it would sound for him to ask in front of his brother where his clothes had gone.
“I left your robes on the cabinet,” Lan Wangji said without a hint of embarrassment. Lan Xichen’s smile seemed to stretch a little too tightly. Lan Xichen had been unusually subdued since Jin Guangyao’s disappearance, and his smile often did not look quite the same. Lan Wangji often took walks with him.
Wei Wuxian laughed nervously. “I saw! But I was looking for, er, ones in darker colors.”
Lan Wangji frowned slightly. “I had those robes made for you.”
Wei Wuxian spluttered. “Lan Zhan! You didn’t have to do that! My old ones were perfectly fine. Where are they, anyway?”
“Being washed.”
Wei Wuxian scrunched up his nose; they must have been disgusting after so many days on the road. “I can’t go around dressed like a Lan. Your uncle would murder me.”
“Actually,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, “it is in your best interest to dress like a Lan, Wei-gongzi. Perhaps you recall that I attended your wedding?”
“Ah…” Wei Wuxian’s face heated. “Well, the rest of the Lans don’t know that…”
Lan Xichen turned to his brother. “Wangji. You didn’t tell him?”
“Tell me what?”
Lan Wangji looked away, his eyes shifty. Lan Xichen turned back to Wei Wuxian with a pleasant smile. “Shufu would like to host your official wedding here as soon as he can find an auspicious date. In addition to your new Lan robes, Wangji has put in an order for two sets of wedding robes.”
Wei Wuxian’s face was completely on fire. “Ah.”
Lan Xichen nodded his head to his brother with a knowing look, then gave Wei Wuxian a pleasant smile. “I shall leave both of you, then.”
As they walked back to the gentian house, Lan Wangji was unusually quiet.
“Lan Zhan, is something wrong?”
“Wei Ying. Are you upset that we are married?”
Wei Wuxian gasped. “Why would I be upset!”
Lan Wangji’s gaze fell. “The rules of Cloud Recesses.”
Wei Wuxian rubbed the side of his nose. “Ah, it wasn’t so bad at Cloud Recesses the last few weeks.” He grinned. “Besides, we’re so close to the source of Emperor’s Smile! How could I be unhappy?”
Back in the gentian house, Wei Wuxian finally agreed to wear a white outer robe that hung loosely over his shoulders, unfastened at the waist. “It always looks stylish when you do it,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji. “Besides, I got used to the long sleeves when we were on the run.” He twirled around, letting the skirts float around him. “Don’t I look good, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn,” he said, looking stricken. He picked up the outer disciple ribbon from the bed, smoothed it out, and handed it over. “You should also wear this.”
“Ah ha, Lan Zhan, don’t you think that’s going a bit far?” Wei Wuxian took it, if only so Lan Wangji would stop looking at him like that. “I don’t think I make a very good Lan. Besides, isn’t someone missing this?”
“Sometimes our ribbons were damaged. We all have extras we keep in case.”
Wei Wuxian tsked and waved the ribbon at him. “But this isn’t one of yours. You think I don’t know what an outer disciple ribbon looks like?”
Lan Wangji looked contrite in a Lan Wangji sort of way, which was to say barely at all. “No one was missing it.”
“Aiya! Fine.” Wei Wuxian fastened it around his forehead. He felt silly; he was the farthest thing from a Lan, especially now that those new rules had been added to the Wall of Discipline.
“Lan Zhan,” he said. “I meant to ask. The stories all say the demonic cultivator wears white. But after we first met at Dafan Mountain, I haven’t seen you wear plain white. All of your robes are blue.” He plucked at the outer robe Lan Wangji was wearing, which was white silk heavily embroidered with an abstract pale blue pattern. “Or at least partly blue. Not plain white at all.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes were intent on his face. “I am no longer in mourning.”
Wei Wuxian’s heart beat faster in his chest. He dropped the corner of his robe. “Show me.”
Lan Wangji paused. Then he went to his wardrobe and pulled open a drawer. He dug around at the bottom, setting aside white robe after white robe, until he reached a set of pale blue robes at the bottom. He shook them out. The outer robe was nearly sheer. The inner was heavy with silver embroidery over the blue so it shimmered like clouds.
“I will wear this.” And without any preamble, he began to undress.
“Ah! Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian hurriedly turned around.
Lan Wangji made a low, amused sound that was almost a chuckle. “Wei Ying. I am only taking off my outer layers.” He paused. “And besides, you have seen me with less on today already.”
Wei Wuxian’s face heated further. “Aiya, Lan Zhan! Are you teasing me? That was very improper. I’m sure I broke at least ten rules just by looking at you.”
“Mn.” There was a rustle of fabric as Lan Wangji tied the robes closed. “There. I am ready.”
Wei Wuxian caught sight of the altar that still held the drawing he had one of Lan Wangji. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I suppose you’ll want this back.” He scrounged around in the worn qiankun pouch that Lan Wangji had rescued from his robes and pulled out the tattered book. He dusted it off and returned it to its place on the altar. “Did you actually read it?” he teased, turning around.
Lan Wangji’s eyes darkened. He approached him. “Would you like me to show you?”
Wei Wuxian’s face heated. Somehow, he still forgot he couldn’t tease Lan Wangji without consequences. “Lan Zhan! You can’t just say those things!”
Lan Wangji lowered his mouth to rest beside Wei Wuxian’s ear. “I can and I will.”
Wei Wuxian squeaked. “Ah! We can’t go again! Remember, we have a visitor!”
Lan Wangji stepped away. They both became serious.
“Our friend is really here to see us?” Wei Wuxian asked.
“Mn.”
“Then let us go greet him.”
Nie Huaisang was perfectly pleasant. They talked of the weather, Nie Huaisang’s new fan, the latest gossip. After the tea was drunk, they walked through the woods. Lan Wangji respectfully fell a few steps behind. They were approaching a beautiful waterfall when Wei Wuxian paused. “Nie Huaisang. Do you know why there were traces of the Yin Tiger Seal on Nie Mingjue and Baxia?”
Nie Huaisang smiled as he admired the waterfall. “Maybe someone tried to use it to raise him from the dead.”
Wei Wuxian stared at him in shock. “Lan Zhan would never! He’d never try to control your brother, either.”
“No,” Nie Huaisang said with a sad smile. “He wouldn’t. Only someone who loved him very much would go to such lengths.”
Wei Wuxian was nearly rocked back on his feet at this revelation. Nie Huaisang had tried to raise his own brother from the dead? “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Nie Huaisang unfurled his fan. “It’s the fate of the Nies,” he said lightly. “Death before our time.” He smiled humorlessly, his eyes distant. “It was foolish of me to think he could escape it. Wishful thinking.” He dropped his gaze. “I am glad that one of those of us who suffered a loss could see someone they loved again,” he added quietly.
As they walked away, Wei Wuxian fell into step with Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan. Did you and Nie Huaisang ever talk about…demonic cultivation?”
Lan Wangji was silent for a long time. “Wei Ying. Let us leave the past in the past.”
Wei Wuxian hooked his arm with his husband’s. “Very well.”
“Wei-qianbei!” Wei Wuxian raised his head. Lan Sizhui came running toward them. Or—walking quickly. He was smiling broadly. “Someone is here you will want to see.”
“Oh?” Lan Jingyi appeared on the path some way behind him, dragging a stubborn donkey.
Wei Wuxian laughed. “Sect Leader Nie brought Little Apple with him! Very nice of our old friend.” He ruffled Lan Sizhui’s hair. He saw that Lan Sizhui was holding something and he paused. “Eh? What’s that?”
“Oh…” Lan Sizhui looked between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. He held it out.
It was four epitaphs.
“For your body, and for the Wens that Hanguang-jun was able to find,” he said quietly. “I thought…you might like your other body to be buried in the Burial Mounds with them.”
Wei Wuxian rubbed his thumb over the words carved there. He smiled sadly. “Yes, A-Yuan. I would like that very much.” He wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. “Ah, to have a child, a husband, and a donkey—what more could I ask for!”
It took a little while for Jin Ling to adjust to being sect leader. Jin Guangyao had disappeared, and Qin Su had retired from the cultivation world. His uncle’s advisors seem to think that they could just go ahead and do whatever they wanted without running it by him first. They tried to convince him that they were very familiar with how his uncle would have wanted things done, and there was no need for him to worry about it. Perhaps he would like to practice in the training grounds with Fairy?
Fuming, he called a meeting with all of the elders, informed them that he was requiring any decisions be run by him before anything was done, and dismissed them all. After that, they finally agreed that they would have weekly meetings with him until he was up to speed.
He was at a meeting with one of them going over the accounts when they came to a column that was marked Prisoners. “And of course, we don’t need to make any changes here,” the elder said smoothly and attempted to move on.
“Wait.” They were spending an enormous amount of money on prisoners, but he could not remember seeing a single person imprisoned at Golden Carp Tower in his lifetime. “Where’s all this money going?”
“Necessities to keep them alive,” he said vaguely. “As I was saying—“
“Is there a breakdown of what exactly these necessities are?”
After only a slight pause, the elder turned to one of the appendices at the back of the ledger. “Here you are, Sect Leader Jin.”
All of the money was being spent on one person: Prisoner One. They received daily rations of food and water; monthly rations of tea leaves, paper, and ink; and, at irregular intervals, huge orders of books, what sounded like herbs and medicines, strange supplies he didn’t recognize, pots and pans, sieves, jars (empty; sizes, various), and acupuncture needles.
“Who is Prisoner One?”
The elder pulled the book back towards them and flipped back to where they had been. “Someone who has committed many crimes. There is no need for you to worry about that. They are in prison for life. Now, as I was saying…”
Jin Ling stood up. “Take me to them.”
The elder looked up at him in shock. “I really don’t think—”
His hand tightened around Suihua. “Take me. To them.”
He was led down a long hall, then down a flight of stairs that led to a floor far below Golden Carp Tower that he had not even known existed. Finally, after another long hallway and several turns, they reached a thick wooden door with an enormous bolt that was fastened with a lock.
“As you can see, very secure,” the elder said. “Very dangerous. Best to leave them alone…”
“Open it.”
But the elder had not brought the key, and really he did not know where the key was, couldn’t remember who had the key… It really wasn’t his area… Perhaps if Sect Leader would like to wait downstairs and take a calming cup of tea…?
“Enough of this.” Jin Ling unsheathed Suihua and, in one stroke, smashed the lock.
The door opened into a small room. It did not look like a prison cell. There was a small kitchen in one corner, a bed against another wall, and the rest of the space was covered in books and strange contraptions he did not recognize. A woman looked up from where she was reading at a desk. She was dressed in dark red robes in a pattern he didn’t recognize. Her hair was done up in a loose bun. A stray strand of hair floated across her face, and she brushed it away irritably.
“Yes?” she said sharply. “What is it?”
Jin Ling gaped at her.
She leveled him with a stare. “If Jin Guangyao wants to rush me, tell him not to bother. I told him it will take as much time as it takes. It will be read when it’s ready. Now, leave me in peace.” She returned to her book.
“Jin Guangyao is dead,” he blurted out.
She looked at him. Several expressions passed across her face. “Already? That’s the second Sect Leader Jin who has died while I’ve been here. You Jins don’t last long, do you?” She shook her head. “Well, tell the new one not to rush me, either.”
“Two sect leaders?” That meant she had known his grandfather. She had been imprisoned that long? “How long have you been here?”
Finally realizing that he was not going to leave her alone, she put her book down and turned to face him. “My brother and I were imprisoned here around the time of Jin Rulan’s hundred days celebration. So, however old he is now, that’s how long it’s been. Why do you care?”
He stared at her. “Who are you?”
“I am Wen Qing,” she said, frowning at him. “Who are you?”