Chapter Text
Lan Xichen lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when they arrive just outside of Cloud Recesses’ gates. Ever since he lost his brother, the beauty of Cloud recesses has faded in his eyes, but now, holding onto his brother’s arm, the pain in his heart has eased and everything seems so much brighter than he remembers.
He steps forward, a bright smile on his face but stops when he realizes how rigid his brother has gotten. He turns to him, concern clear in his eyes.
“Wangji,” he whispers in a low tone. “Is everything all right?”
Lan Wangji visibly tries to untense his rigid stance and says, “mn.”
Lan Xichen cannot see his brother’s expression because of the veil so he decides to take his words at face value for the moment. He chalks his wariness to something else. “You must be exhausted, I had your quarters set up just in case. Due to ah, recent events, we did a bit of renovating, and I had a house made near the sect leader’s quarters…”
Lan Wangji allows his brother’s words to wash over him as he enters through the gates. Quiet disciples welcome the sect leader and shoot curious and bewildered looks at the visitors. The Wei disciples bid their farewells, wishing him well and to send for them if he needs them.
Lan Xichen explains to the curious Lan disciples that the veiled man is an honored guest and the injured man is here to be treated at the request of the Wei Sect.
With the cold air, the white robes, and the air of discipline and serenity, Lan Wangji feels nostalgia sink into his bones but his heart remains cold. Has the air in the mountains always seemed so thin?
“This way,” Lan Xichen says with a kind, bright smile that somehow surprises the Lan disciples. Who is this mystery guest who could bring out a sincere smile from their usually aloof sect leader?
Lan Xichen does not notice their confusion and gestures for the disciples to take the injured man into their infirmary.
Lan Wangji ignores the curious looks and focuses on the warmth of his brother’s hand holding him by the arm. He finds it easier to breathe with his brother nearby.
Lan Xichen points out the changes they made through the years and he feels the familiar feeling of dissonance. It was only months ago when he last walked through these paths with his brother but then he looks at the newly refurbished disciple halls and the unfamiliar faces and remembers once again that he was not here for the thirteen years of his brother’s life.
The house his brother takes him to is cozy and smells like his favorite sandalwood incense. There are new robes in his closet, the sheets on his bed look quite expensive, and the writing set on his table is also new and extravagant. He had quite an impressive collection of books. There are some rabbit paraphernalia on the shelves which surprises him and softens his initial uncertainty.
“If you need or want anything, crave any food, tell me, Wangji,” Lan Xichen tells him with a bright smile.
“We can’t celebrate your return publicly but we can have a private celebratory dinner. Another person knows of your return, a disciple named Lan Jingyi. Have you met him? He had been here during the incident with the YilingWei Sect-”
“Incident?”
“Ah, well, there had been a minor quarrel…” Lan Xichen purses his lips. “After you left Burial Mounds the first time around, Sect leader Wei came looking for answers. You left behind a letter that told us there was a possibility you were alive but it also detailed Lan Chongyun’s sins. Sins Wei Wuxian knew nothing about. He came here in anger, demanding answers.”
Lan Wangji lets out a surprised breath and asks, “were you hurt?”
Lan Xichen gives him a fond look and clasps his hands. “I am all right. We settled it in the end thanks to Maiden Wen and young master Wei Sizhui. Still, no matter the outcome, I am glad they came. I think sect leader Wei would have not told me you were alive if he had his way. And I doubt you would have told me either.”
“I would have told you,” Lan Wangji argues.
“Would you?” Lan Xichen asks sadly. “If you found a solution to these scars then I know you would have come home but Wangji, what if there was no solution? To protect Shufu and I, you would have lived in isolation until your time came for the second time.
“I would have come and visit.”
“And not tell us who you were,” Lan Xichen says with a pained look on his face. He directs his brother to sit on the edge of the bed and he sits next to him. “I know you, Wangji. You would not want us to grieve you twice but I want you to imagine what we would have felt if we found out you had been alive for a brief moment. We would have missed the opportunity to see you again, to talk to you, to apologize one last time, and tell you we loved you. Wangji, that would have hurt more.”
Lan Wangji hears the pain in his brother’s voice and says, “I apologize, brother. I did not think of it that way. I was a source of grief and pain for you, I just did not want to cause you even more.”
“It is all right. What is important is that we are here now and people are willing to help you get through this. We will get through this,” Lan Xichen tells him, determination shining in his eyes.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji squeezes his brother’s hands. They stay like that for a moment, enjoying each other’s company.
Lan Wangji looks around the room and sees the tassel his uncle made him when he was ten on one of the shelves. Lan Xichen follows his gaze.
“How is he?” Lan Wangji asks. His brother knew immediately who he was asking about. He remembers how the letter details his uncle’s condition, how he hasn’t been the same since Lan Wangji’s death.
“He is better,” Lan Xichen assures him. “I visit him every week to keep his spirits up. He is not the same as he used to be but he has been improving these past months.”
“I am glad,” Lan Wangji says sincerely. There is a beat of silence. “What do we tell him?”
Lan Xichen shakes his head, “I do not want to keep him in the dark but we must be conscious of his health. I will ask a healer to examine him and then seek their opinion regarding this situation. Of course, I will only tell them that I might have very surprising news for Uncle but that is all.”
“Mn.”
“Do not worry about it, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says and he straightens. “I will go get us breakfast, in the meantime, why don’t you get some rest?”
“Thank you, brother,” Lan Wangji says when his brother heads out. Lan Xichen turns back to look, the relief of seeing his brother finally home eases his heart.
“Welcome home, Wangji.”
“There is no news?” Jin Guangyao asks one of the Jin disciples he is sponsoring.
The disciple shakes his head regretfully and Jin Guangyao’s hands tense into a fist. He turns, not wanting to show his blatant displeasure. “Very well, keep an eye out and report back to me immediately if there is anything.”
“Understood, second master Jin.”
Jin Guangyao lets out a tense breath when he hears the door to his quarters close. He paces around his room in agitation. Where is Mo Xuanyu? His brother wasn’t the type to randomly disappear like Xue Yang. He painstakingly built up the image of a caring older brother to secure his loyalty but why has he disappeared with no word?
Could Xue Yang have killed him?
Just when he thought he finally gathered the pieces he needed to enact his plan, they either disappeared or fell through.
Jin Guangyao passes by his desk, and his eyes latch onto two letters: one from Nie Huaisang and the other, miraculously, from Lan Xichen. He lets out an even breath.
No matter, if one plan falls through he can make another. He holds up Nie Huaisang’s letter, reading through its contents again. He smiles at the younger Nie’s worry so desperately written on the parchment.
At least one of his plans is going smoothly and one of his older plans seems to be plausible again.
Jin Guangyao scans over Lan Xichen’s letter carefully. It is carefully worded but Lan Xichen seems to be open to meeting with him again. He seems keen to rekindle their friendship and Jin Guangyao sees this as an opportunity to build up his power and reputation.
It’s only a matter of time before everything in the Jin Sect becomes rightfully his.
Being back in Cloud Recesses is like a fantasy.
Lan Wangji wakes up confused and short of breath. He looks around and for a moment he is lost. The room looks familiar but at the same time, it is so different from what he is used to.
Clean and minimalistic, his room in Cloud Recesses is a far cry from the room he has in Burial Mounds.
Although Lan Wangji’s taste leans more towards minimalism, he cannot help but miss the warm opulence of his room in the Demon Subduing Palace.
His bed in the Burial Mounds was too soft, the canopy too grand, and everything in the room looked too expensive for his taste but it was much warmer in his memories. Such warmth had mostly been contributed by a certain Sect Leader Wei.
Whenever Lan Wangji thinks about the Demon Subduing Palace he remembers Wei Wuxian’s smile and excitement as he tells Lan Wangji about his sect, his people, and how excited he was to give Lan Wangji a proper tour when everything had settled down.
In the end, that promise had not been fulfilled. Due to an unforeseen attack, Burial Mound’s strongest defender is unconscious and Lan Wangji has to be taken back to his Sect. It was the only way he could help the people Wei Wuxian protected.
He gets up and goes to wash his face. He notices a tray of food on the table, covered by cloth, and a handwritten note from his brother.
It is already dinner time, you slept past breakfast and lunch. I prepared extra food for you, be sure to eat when you can. I’ll come by again an hour before curfew to check on you.
Lan Wangji takes off the cloth and sees a bowl of broccoli topped with garlic sauce, a bowl of chopped cucumber mixed with sesame seed, vinegar, and soy sauce, and two bowls of rice. There is also a pot of warm water if he wishes to brew himself some tea.
Dinner is a quiet affair. It is the first dinner he spends alone after a long time. Even when Wei Wuxian had fallen unconscious, Lan Wangji had taken most of his meals by his bedside. He was worried and scared that something might happen the moment he took his eyes off him.
It made leaving him even harder. It made being here in Cloud Recesses while Wei Wuxian was unconscious, much harder. For the first time, Lan Wangji feels suffocated in staying here.
Lan Wangji finishes his food and sets the tray aside. He thinks of having a short walk outside with his veil on. The disciples are aware that their Sect Leader has a guest and Wangji knows his brother has probably warned them to give him his privacy.
He searches his closet for thicker robes. Because of his fluctuating spiritual energy, the mountain air is colder than he is used to. His chest aches at the sight of his familiar white robes but he searches for darker colors, having gotten used to wearing them during his stay in the Wei Sect.
He finds a cobalt blue outer robe with subtle wave designs on its sleeves. He puts it on, along with a light-colored scarf to cover the lower half of his face and to keep his cold nose warm. He tops it off with his usual veiled hat and deems himself ready to go out.
It is a few hours before curfew and Lan Wangji knows that around this time, most disciples would be eating at the dining pavilion or making the most of their time in the library doing assignments or getting in some last-minute sword practice.
Thankfully, Lan Xichen has provided him a place in the quieter part of Cloud Recesses, so he only sees the occasional disciple doing their rounds from a distance.
Lan Wangji surveys his small home from the outside, walking around it and admiring the small flowers planted on the sides of the path. He rarely frequented this part of Cloud Recesses even before. This place used to be home to tall grasses and thick trees.
His brother must have had it cleared for the sake of giving him a private space. The newness of the place helps tamp down the anxiety he constantly feels the moment he arrives in Cloud Recesses. Still, he is drawn down familiar paths he trekked on when he was still alive and wanting peace.
It helped that the paths he took were far away from the punishment halls and fields. Just winding paths that led to the dormitories and libraries and secluded homes.
Lan Wangji stops and realizes where his feet have led him. It has led him to a place that represented his happiest times and saddest moments. He takes a few steps forward and kneels, bowing his head at the remains of his mother’s house.
When Cloud Recesses burned, his mother’s small house was not spared. Eager to pillage and kill, the Wens searched and destroyed everything they could. They left no stone unturned.
In all of Cloud Recesses, this place was the only one left frozen in time since that horrendous day. Their Sect couldn’t spare the funds to renovate the house and Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen did not want to see it truly destroyed since it held so many memories for them. So, it was left in stasis even after the war and it seemed to have been left alone for the entire decade he had been gone.
Lan Wangji straightens and stares at the familiar burnt-down structure. He feels like he is frozen in time here. It feels like he is just coming to do his monthly visit before he goes and tries to convince Wei Ying against the dark path again.
The day of the Siege does not seem long ago to him but the reality of it was that, like the dilapidated house of his mother’s, he has been standing still in time for over thirteen years.
The wind is cool, the place is peaceful and unchanged. Lan Wangji barely feels the cold now. His thoughts are quiet for once.
Lan Wangji does not know how long he has been there before he hears a set of careful footsteps headed his way.
He half expects to see his brother step out into the clearing, a somber look on his face, but, to his surprise, it is not him, nor is it a wayward Lan disciple.
Lan Qiren looks older than he remembers. He is not untouched by the passage of time. Cultivators aged slowly because of their golden cores but Lan Qiren seemed to be the exception to that rule. He seemed to have aged faster than even an average person.
Lan Wangji is frozen as his uncle steps forward. He is not as poised as he remembers, his shoulders are slumped and his gait is slow as though he is carrying something heavy on his back.
It takes a while for Lan Qiren to notice he is not alone.
He looks in surprise at Lan Wangji’s frozen figure. His eyes narrow in suspicion as he clears his throat. “I apologize, I did not see you there.” He performs a stiff bow. “May I inquire who you are?”
Lan Wangji remains silent, knowing that speaking would be a dead giveaway to who he is. His uncle raised him and knew his nuances and behavior just like his brother. Lan Wangji also does not have it in his heart to lie or redirect the question.
Lan Qiren is wary of this stranger. He does not know of any Lan disciple who would cover their appearance and is unaware of any guest currently staying in Cloud Recesses. But then again, he has been in seclusion most of the time and Xichen has been too busy to come to their daily tea sessions.
As the guest continues to remain silent, Lan Qiren takes a firmer stance, and sensing the growing tension, Lan Wangji carefully gets up and does his bow.
Lan Qiren breathes in sharply at the movement. For a split second, he is transported back to the past.
Those familiar movements were elegant but sharp and Lan Qiren only knew of two people who had moved with such precise motions.
“Ah,” Lan Qiren sighs his long-held breath. Lan Wangji straightens, afraid to cause any more offense.
Lan Qiren looks so much more tired than before. His next words confuse Lan Wangji.
“Have you come to scold me?”
Lan Wangji straightens in surprise. Has his uncle figured him out? But… who was he to scold his uncle?
“There are days when it is more difficult to distinguish reality among many dreams,” Lan Qiren says in a defeated tone. “This must be one of those times,” he does a perfunctory bow. “This Lan Qiren greets you, sister-in-law…Madam Lan.”
The mention of his mother steals all of Lan Wangji’s remaining breath.
Wen Qing curses as she nearly burns the books she had been reading.
The candle burns itself to darkness while Wen Qing struggles to find any extras to light. She realizes she has used up all of the extra candles provided by Grandma Wen and slumps against her chair in defeat.
The lack of sleep burns her eyes and makes her head pound but with so many people in her care, she could not afford even a second of rest. As a medical practitioner, she knew the benefits of good sleep but with so much to do, she can’t even find time to do intermittent naps.
Song Lan was still in critical condition. Her brother, Wen Ning, was not in his right mind, and the only person who could help, Wei Wuxian, was under some sort of strange trance-like sleep state and this was probably due to the strange blade Zhao Fen stabbed him with.
She studies the strange markings and everything she had found out about it was not good. From what she had gathered the blade was designed to wipe away the memories of a fierce corpse to make them a subservient being to the owner of the blade. Xue Yang probably gave Zhao Fen the blade and instructions to stab Song Lan with it just in case he was thwarted.
“A blade for a fierce corpse,” Wen Qing grimaces. No doubt an invention of Xue Yang with Wei Wuxian’s research as a foundation. Did it work? Was it experimental? She doesn’t know the effect it would have on someone like Wei Wuxian. She could only assess the situation better if he was awake.
A knock on the door startles her from her thoughts. “Aunt Qing?”
The sound of Wei Sizhui’s worried voice makes her relax her guard. She gets up to open the door but realizes she can hardly see what is in front of her.
“Come in and be sure to bring a lamp,” Wen Qing warns him.
A minute later, Wei Sizhui opens the door and spots his disheveled aunt. “Did you run out of-”
“Oil lamps, candles, everything I needed to keep reading- yes,” Wen Qing sighs tiredly. “I’m glad you’re here, can you get me more oil for the lamp?”
“Aunt Qing,” Wei Sizhui gives her a scolding look that Wen Qing is self-aware enough to recognize it to be a copy of her own. “At this rate, you will collapse. What will we do then?”
Wen Qing understands what he is saying but “we don’t know what dangers to expect. The sooner I find something to help Wei Wuxian, the sooner A-Ning can be all right, and the safer we can all be. Without him, the only thing keeping us safe are the wards.”
There is a scoff behind Wei Sizhui which startles Wen Qing. “What are we, sitting ducks?”
Wei Sizhui steps aside to reveal Jiang Wanyin and a retinue of Jiang cultivators.
Jiang Wanyin raises an eyebrow at her state but does not comment. Instead, he asks, “now tell me, what did that idiot do this time?”
The cave was cold and damp. The mark on his chest burned and so did his fever but mostly what he felt was coldness.
His head was lying on something warm though and soft fingers gently touched his head. A thread of energy was shared between two people and the cold was leaving him, albeit very slowly.
Wei Wuxian laughed to himself. He could die here today but he couldn’t help but find the whole thing funny. He was lying on the cold Second Jade of Lan’s lap. He really must be dying for such a miracle to occur.
"You are not dying,” a voice snapped at him and Wei Wuxian laughed out loud, startled. He didn’t think he said that out loud.
A pause, “you did.”
“Figures,” Wei Wuxian coughed. He has his eyes closed but he can feel the frown directed at him. “Even near death, I can’t stop talking.”
“You are not dying,” Lan Wangji emphasized.
“Well,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “We can agree to disagree then.”
The energy between them grew brighter and Wei Wuxian would argue that Lan Wangji conserved some energy for himself but then he felt oh-so tired.
In his pain-befuddled mind, he only thought to ask one thing, “sing me a song?”
As he drifted off to sleep, a sweet melody accompanied him. This was his last sweet memory before the start of a long nightmare.
They have given up their swords and their pride. This was nothing more than a show of power for the Wens. They were showing every Sect and Clan that they held power over all of them.
Most of the cultivators were looking at the Wens with anger when Wen Chao suddenly called forth the Lan Clan. Wei Wuxian turned in disbelief. Last he heard, Cloud Recesses had been burned to the ground.
His eyes widened at the sight of the Second Young Master Lan.
Lan Wangji did not look well. The usual stoic young Master Lan’s eyes were burning with anger and Wei Wuxian felt an intense hatred at the Wens for causing his friend such anguish.
He stepped forward but a hand held him back. He turned towards Jiang Cheng to argue-
“You-”
Wei Wuxian blinked, he was holding Lan Wangji’s sacred ribbon in his hand and the Second Jade of Lan looked angrier than he had ever seen.
Why is he so angry? Is it just a piece of cloth? Wei Wuxian thought but even he knew that he had stepped over a line. “Ah, I’m so-”
Lan Wangji took the ribbon from him, too angry to speak. Wei Wuxian watched his retreat feeling defeated. Everything he did only made the other angrier.
“What’s the big deal anyway?” Wei Wuxian huffed in annoyance. It was just a piece of cloth! No need to be so protective of it! Jiang Cheng hit him in the back of the head.
“You’re such an idiot!”
Wei Wuxian tuned him out. He didn’t need any lecturing, he already knew he messed up. Would Lan Wangji hear him out the next time they meet?
He was drowning. Darkness was everywhere and he couldn’t breathe.
Then a familiar white ribbon entered his sight, a pale hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him away from the cold watery depths of certain death.
Wei Wuxian was startled from his thoughts. He was in the library and the late afternoon sun was shining through the windows. Any normal person would be mesmerized by the shadows of trees swaying gently in the breeze but Wei Wuxian barely noticed any of that.
How long has he been staring at Lan Wangji?
He looks down at the piece of paper in front of him.
He prided himself in the art of drawing. He knew he was better than most people his age when it came to painting and sketching but somehow he felt that in drawing Lan Wangji, his talents fell short.
Wei Wuxian surveyed his work and sighed. It was hard to replicate such beauty on paper.
It was the first day of the daily lectures in GusuLan. They still had time before Grandmaster Qiren came by. Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang, and Wei Wuxian were talking about the young masters of the Lan Sect.
Wei Wuxian made the sound of surprise and asked, “is he a young master who looks quite pretty?”
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and answered, “is there anyone who looks ugly in the GusuLan Sect? His sect doesn’t even accept disciples with unclean features. If you can, find me one who has an average face.”
Wei Wuxian hummed, “very pretty.” He pointed at his head. “White from top to bottom, wearing a forehead ribbon, and carrying a silver sword on his back. He looked rather handsome, but with his straight face, he looked like he was in mourning.”
When Wei WuXian turned his head, he could see the side of Lan WangJi’s face. His lashes were long, appearing to be extremely delicate and elegant. His posture was also very upright, looking straight ahead. He felt a strange longing in his chest but just chalked it up to a sort of admiration towards the other’s beauty.
Too bad he isn’t any fun. Wei Wuxian huffed to himself as he remembered the punishment he had to face for sneaking in alcohol. Second Young Master Lan didn’t even exempt him just this once!
Still, despite his slight irritation, his eyes can’t help but be drawn to him.
He had an aura like moonlight.
“Late returners are not allowed in until the end of Mao Shi, get out.”
The young man wore a forehead ribbon with cloud patterns. His skin was fair, features were both refined and elegant as if he was a piece of polished jade. The color of his eyes was especially light like they were made of colored glass, causing his gaze to be overly distant. His expression held the traces of frost and snow, stern to the degree of being stiff with an unwavering gaze.
Wei Wuxian was mesmerized. He wanted to be closer to him.
“It’s Emperor’s smile,” he offered proudly. He smiled at the other with his brightest grin. “I’ll give you a jar. You should smile too, you’ll be much cuter.”
The other man is unfazed. “Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.”
He sighed, “what isn’t forbidden here?”
“It’s written in the Wall of Discipline. Go read it.”
Wei Wuxian complained about it and the other young master glared at him in reprimand. He backtracked, “Ah, all right.” Even when he’s angry he’s beautiful. “I won’t go in. I’ll sit and drink here. That’s not breaking any rules, right?”
Under the moonlight, in the company of the most beautiful person he had ever seen, Wei Wuxian drank like it was his last night.
For some reason, despite him technically not breaking any rules, the beautiful Lan started to attack him.
For the first time, Wei Wuxian had a taste of what it was like to fight with an equal. He was exhilarated and then upset because the pretty young man purposely broke the jars of his favorite Emperor’s Smile.
Still, he won’t forget this night for the rest of his life.
Wei Wuxian wakes up panting and in pain. He remembers restraining Xue Yang and then the pain of betrayal from being stabbed by someone he trusted.
He can’t move and he is hanging on a thread of consciousness. What happened? Who stopped Xue Yang? Is everyone all right?
The fact that he was still alive and seemed to have been submerged in the scent of healing herbs meant that everything might have turned out better than he hoped. He tried to look around but he seemed to be the only one in the recovery room. The others could have been moved to a different room to recover but hopefully Wei Wuxian was the only casualty and everyone was fine.
He struggled and tried to sit up but it was no use. His wound was hot and pulsing and already he could feel his vision darkening. He wanted to at least talk to someone before falling unconscious again.
How were Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, and the little kid they had with them? Wei Wuxian had assured them they were safe here but he had let them down. Xue Yang, the man they had been running from, managed to get in.
And what about the others? How far did Xue Yang go before he was finally stopped? Was everyone else okay? Wei Sizhui? Granny Wen?
Lan Zhan?
Wei Wuxian’s injury throbs harshly at the thought of the Second Master Lan. He groans and his hands shake as he resists the urge to claw at his sides.
Why did it hurt so much? Was there poison in that dagger?
He must have made too much noise because the doors suddenly burst open. It is one of Wen Qing’s medical apprentices who gasps to see him awake. She runs off, probably to inform her master.
“Ah, wai-” Wei Wuxian’s vision flickers and he tries to fight against the inevitable pull of unconsciousness.
He wants to stay awake and ask if everyone is all right but it seems like that question will be left unanswered. As he is pulled under he counts everyone he knows to be in the castle right now and wonders about their safety.
“…Fourth Uncle, Granny Wen, Wen Qing, Sizhui…” he mumbles, barely coherent. “Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, that kid who isn’t blind…”
Lan Zhan.
A twinge of pain and a feeling of dread. Wei Wuxian continues to think about Lan Zhan. He thinks back to the good old days when he teased and pulled on the other’s ribbon and irritated him on purpose. He remembers dreaming about every encounter with him before the world went to hell.
How did we meet again? Wei Wuxian thinks deliriously. There was something about moonlight and a wall…
Darkness takes over before he realizes he can’t remember at all.
To be continued...