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Chapter Text

“Several thousand years ago, China was very different than it is today.

History tells of grand battles fought by people who could fly on swords and wield music as a weapon. Schools teach of the four great cultivation sects and their enemy; the Yiling Patriarch and his loyal Ghost General.

Names have been lost to history, but the stories remain on. Cultivation has mostly faded from public knowledge, although it still exists. Small pockets of cultivators live and teach throughout China.

Children who show an aptitude for the spiritual arts are sent to one of the only remaining, and the oldest, cultivation schools; Cloud Recesses.

Hidden away high in the mountains of Gusu, it’s survived the ravages of time that wiped out the other great sects. 

Some say it’s longevity is because of it’s Sect Leader, Hanguang-jun, and his brother Zewu-jun, having cultivated to immortality. Some say it’s because Cloud Recesses has steadfastly held on to their traditions and rules.

For many years, the Cloud Recesses remained a mysterious and secretive place. Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun mythical figures not seen by anyone other than their students. Electronics are not allowed past the barrier.

For the first time in centuries, the truth shall be revealed. This team has been given never before seen access, they have been invited to go behind the scenes and peel back the layers of the Cloud Recesses and reveal the truth of

MODERN CULTIVATION!”

“Cut!”

“Good?” a crooked grin is shot from the stage.

“Great!” the director claps his hands. “Did you get all that?” he glances at the cameraman, who blinks.

“I-I th-think so?”

“Great. Alright everyone!” the director flutters a fan in the air, “pack up your bags for a once in a lifetime opportunity! We’re going to leave for Gusu in the morning!”

Cheers follow the director’s announcement and he dramatically sweeps out of the studio.

A once in a lifetime opportunity indeed, he hums, running his thumb along the wood engraving on his fan thoughtfully.

...

“Hanguang-jun!”

Lan Wangji looks up from where he’s grading tests.

“Hanguang-jun,” one of the disciples poked his head in. “Apologies for the interruption, but the film crew is here”

“Mn,” he inclines his head and sets down his brush, waiting for the disciple to leave before letting out a sigh. 

It had all been Xichen’s idea, of course.

The Cloud Recesses has always been a place of relative seclusion, adapting just enough to get by as the centuries moved on.

When a documentary film crew producer had approached Xichen while he was on his way back from a meditative walk outside the Cloud Recesses barrier, he had reluctantly agreed to meet with the production team. They wanted to make a documentary about the Cloud Recesses and the history of it.

Wangji had been adamantly against it and had refused to attend the meeting. The bright expression hidden in Xichen’s brown eyes when he had returned and told Wangji that he thought it would be a good thing was ultimately what convinced Wangji to relent.

It had been too long since such an expression had crossed his brother’s face.

But this now means that Wangji has to face a documentary crew. Cameras and mics and people trying to get him to talk. 

“Wangji?” his brother’s soft voice drifts into his office. Xichen’s head pokes around the door a few minutes later.

“Brother,” Wangji inclines his head in greeting.

“The team is here,” Xichen enters the room. “Are you ready?”

Wangji gives his brother a look. Xichen smiles in that sympathetic way of his.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’m sure it will be worth it”

Wangji disagrees. But he keeps that to himself. 

Xichen could easily have allowed himself to pass away, given his soul up to the cycle of reincarnation and been freed from the pain he had endured all those years ago, of knowing his sworn brothers had been killed by the tyrant Jin Guangshan. A pain that still lingered on, even if the raw hurt had lessened to faded memories, a phantom.

But when he had found out Wangji was cultivating to immortality in a stubborn attempt to wait for Wei Ying, Xichen had refused to let Wangji do it alone.

So here they are.

“Ready to go meet them?”

“As much as I will ever be,” Wangji straightens and smoothes his robes. Still pristine white, unchanged from the day he first became Sect Leader.

Xichen smiles at him and Wangji follows his brother out onto the pavilion.

“Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun,” their disciples bow as they pass.

The students are excited, Wangji knows. He suspects they hope this means they’ll be allowed electronics beyond the specified electronics zone.

Xichen looks at him, amusement playing at the edges of his smile and Wangji knows his brother is thinking the same thing.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to relax the rules a bit,” Xichen says quietly. Wangji hums. 

Even though Xichen had stepped down as Sect Leader after the defeat of Jin Guangshan, Wangji still often defers to and listens to his brother’s advice during the rare times he offers it.

They reach the barrier to the Cloud Recesses and wait.

The trek up Gusu Mountain is somewhat arduous by foot. The easiest way is by sword, but Wangji doubts the documentary crew is capable of flying by sword.

“W-waaaaah!” a yell and a thud that scares the birds.

“Oh no”

“Again...?”

“Is he alright?”

“S-sorry...th-the cameras a-are safe th-though...”

Wangji breathes out through his nose.

He hasn’t even met the documentary crew and already he can feel the irritation bubbling up.

Xichen presses a calming hand against Wangji’s shoulder, his serene smile never wavering.

“Oh dear...”

“I-it’s n-not broken!” 

“That’s a nasty cut...”

The voices get closer.

“Really, A-Ning, you need to be more careful! I’ll see if I can’t get someone to help”

The voice that reaches Wangji’s ears causes him to freeze.

Everything around him fades out as the buzzing in his ears takes over. The first of the documentary crew rounds the corner and Wangji forgets how to breathe at a face he has kept alive in his memories.

“Oh!” the bright grin is achingly familiar, “hello! I’m-“

“Wei Ying,” Wangji murmurs. 

Chapter Text

Wei Ying’s bright grin falters somewhat before returning full force.

“Yup! That’s me! Huaisang must have mentioned that I would be the one interviewing you?”

Wangji looks to his brother for help. Xichen smiles and glides forward, bowing.

“I remember you from the production meeting. My name is Lan Xichen, this is my brother, Sect Leader Lan Wangji. It is wonderful to have you here”

Wei Ying beams. 

“Oh! One of the crew managed to trip over a rock and probably sprained his ankle, would one of you be willing to help us?”

“Certainly,” Xichen smiles, “Wangji, are you coming?”

Wangji nods wordlessly, unable to tear his eyes off of Wei Ying as they make their way down the mountain.

His brother had known. 

Wei Ying looks different. He looks...good. 

The last time Wangji had seen him, he had been far too thin and pale.

His hair is shorter than Wangji remembers; falling to his shoulders in messy waves, the top half pulled back into a ponytail. He’s wearing dark-wash jeans and a black t-shirt with a black and red plaid overshirt hanging unbuttoned. It’s rolled up to reveal his forearms and Wangji can’t tear his eyes off the tattoo on his forearm.

Wei Ying must catch him staring because he grins.

“You a fan of Harry Potter too?” he holds up his arm, revealing the skull with a snake coming out of it’s mouth.

Wangji has heard the name Harry Potter. But he does not know who he is and now he wishes he did.

His chest clenches with jealousy.

Does Wei Ying have feelings for this Harry Potter?

Xichen looks amused.

“Some of the disciples read the books, but Wangji and I never have”

Wei Ying nods.

“Yeah, you guys are kinda old-fashioned up here, aren’t you?”

“Why are you so rude, idiot?” another familiar, abrasive voice shouts from the trees, “and what’s taking so long!?”

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” Wei Ying bounds forward, sliding down next to a crowd of people. “Calm down, Chengcheng, it’ll be fine”

Wangji stares.

The last time he had seen Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Sect Leader had spat something vicious about Wei Ying, Zidian crackling in rage. He had been killed in a “night hunting accident” arranged by Guangshan.

Now, seeing Jiang Wanyin digging his knuckles into Wei Ying’s head while they laugh, reminds him of their days back in Gusu. His hair is shorter, cut to the nape of his neck with bangs hanging down to his chin. He’s wearing slacks that have become dirty and a purple button-down shirt.

“I-I’m fine...r-really! I just n-needed a m-minute...”

The source of everyone’s attention is the most startling to Wangji.

Alive, Wen Ning’s soft, delicate features are no different than when he was dead. His hair, pulled into a ponytail just brushing his shoulders, is in disarray; twigs and leaves sticking from the brown strands. He looks up with wide, blue-green eyes. Wangji thinks he looks a little like one of those bush babies he had seen a nature documentary on during one of his rare trips into town.

“Wen Ning, you should have said something after the first time you fell!” Wangji glances at Nie Huaisang. The last time he had seen the former Nie Sect leader, Huaisang had teamed up with Jin Guangyao to try and take Jin Guangshan down from the inside. Something that had led to both their demises.

Oddly enough, Nie Huaisang hasn’t changed much; his hair is still long; falling past his shoulder in an intricate fishtail braid. He’s got tight cloth pants on and an olive green sweater. A long gold necklace hangs from his neck.

“I d-didn’t want t-to trouble a-anyone,” Wen Ning plays with his fingers, staring at the ground.

“But you still got hurt”

Wangji glances at his brother, who has the same look on his face he gets whenever the youngest disciples do something ridiculous, or a bunny does something cute.

Xichen kneels down next to Wen Ning, who stares at him with large eyes. 

“May I?” Wen Ning nods and Xichen gently rolls up the hem of Wen Ning’s now torn pants and presses on the obviously swollen ankle. “It’s a nasty sprain,” Xichen hums, “allow me to carry you the rest of the way?”

Huh. Wangji wants to raise his eyebrows. Instead, he ignores Wen Ning’s panicked incoherency and turns back to look at Wei Ying.

Wei Ying is kneeling by a black bag and checking to ensure the contents aren’t damaged.

“Wei Ying,” Wangji kneels down next to him. Grey eyes flick up to him and Wei Ying grins broadly sending Wangji’s heart thundering in his chest.

“Aah! You must be the esteemed Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Ying says, “ahh, you know, none of the rumors about you do you justice”

“Wei Ying!” Jiang Wanyin snaps. “Don’t be rude!”

“Neh, neh, Han-guang-jun,” the teasing tone in his voice makes something in Wangji’s chest flutter, “you don’t have buck teeth,” he leans in and Wangji would just have to lean in a few inches to kiss him. The proximity is making him lightheaded, “you aren’t some hideous monster either...hm, in fact, you’re quite-“

“Wei Ying, shut up!” suddenly Wei Ying gets knocked down by a blur of purple. The two brothers go rolling down the hill in a tangle of limbs. “Why! Are! You! So! Rude!”

“Ahh!” Wei Ying laughs as he dodges his brother’s attempts to strangle him.

Nie Huaisang sighs in exasperation and hides behind a fan, a familiar gesture.

“Wei-xiong, Jiang-xiong!” Nie Huaisang hisses, “you’re embarrassing us in front of the cultivators!”

The brothers look up, seemingly remembering where they are. 

Jiang Wanyin is the first one up, brushing off his clothes. Wei Ying jumps up as well.

“Apologies, Sect Leader Lan,” Nie Huaisang bows to Wangji, “my coworkers are...enthusiastic. This is Jiang Cheng, he works the mic,” no courtesy name, Wangji muses, “and you’ve already met Wei Ying. Wei Ying will be the one interviewing you. Wen Ning is our cameraman,” he pushes his braid behind his shoulder, “I am Nie Huaisang, director and producer of Modern Cultivation,” another bow. 

“It’s a rather small team for a show, is it not?” Xichen asks politely. Wangji glances at his brother, who is holding a red-faced Wen Ning with ease.

Nie Huaisang smiles, “well, our main crew is usually a lot bigger, but considering the secluded nature of the Cloud Recesses, we didn’t want to intrude by bringing in a large team”

Wangji glances at Wei Ying again and his heart skips a beat.

Wei Ying’s hair has come loose in his brawl with his brother. It falls around his face in a messy tangle. His cheeks are flushed pink from exertion and he looks happy in a way Wangji has never seen.

This Wei Ying has never suffered the loss of his entire home or been thrust into a bloody war far too young. This Wei Ying has never faced the scorn of the cultivation world, the hatred of his brother.

Wangji falls just a little bit more in love. 

“Perhaps we should return to the Cloud Recesses, Wangji?” Xichen says over Wen Ning’s head.

Wangji inclines his head.

The former Nie Sect leader looks at Xichen with an odd look as Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng begin to gather up the bags.

“I c-can w-walk, really,” Wen Ning says. Xichen smiles serenely. 

“There is a part that is pretty rocky,” he says, “your ankle is only sprained, but we don’t want it to get worse”

Wen Ning sends a panicked glance to Wei Ying, who shrugs. 

The group begins their trek up to the barrier of Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying falls into step next to Wangji.

“Say, esteemed Hanguang-jun...”

“Lan Zhan,” Wangji says before he can stop himself. He feels his ears turn red. 

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying tilts his head, “Lan Zhan,” he repeats. Wangji’s heart aches, but this time it’s in a good way. 

He has Wei Ying back.

And this time, he will not lose him again.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying drops his stuff in the room appointed to him.

The Cloud Recesses, hm?

He spins in a circle, looking at the very boring surroundings. 

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asks suspiciously, setting his stuff down on the bed opposite Wei Ying’s. 

“Just taking in the sights”

Jiang Cheng snorts.

“What sights? There’s nothing to see here”

Jiang Cheng isn’t wrong. The room is large, but incredibly simple; two beds with white blankets and a chest of drawers at the foot of each, in the corner is a folding screen for changing and two desks against the back wall.

There are absolutely no decorations of any sort.

There’s a window on Wei Ying’s side.

He feels an odd sense of nostalgia, but promptly shakes it off.

“Hey, Jiang Cheng!”

“What?” comes his brother’s long-suffering answer.

“Remember that big rock that Zewu-jun pointed out?”

“The Wall of Rules or whatever?” Jiang Cheng crinkles his nose. “There’s over four thousand! How can anyone be expected to remember them all?”

“Wanna see how many we can break?” he bounces over to where his brother is sitting. 

Jiang Cheng levels him with a disbelieving stare.

“We’re here to film a documentary. We should be respectful”

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!” Wei Ying calls. The door slides open to reveal Wen Ning hovering in the doorway. “A-Ning! How’s the ankle feeling?”

“F-fine,” Wen Ning shakes his head like a dog, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his large red sweater. “I-it really w-wasn’t th-that big a d-deal”

“But you got to be carried by a big strong man,” Wei Ying winks. Predictably, Wen Ning turns bright red and Wei Ying grins. “I wonder if I sprained my ankle would Lan Zhan carry me?”

The idea of being cradled in Lan Zhan’s arms sends blood rushing to Wei Ying’s cheeks. 

“Don’t call him so disrespectfully,” Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes, “him and his brother still use courtesy names. And even then, he’s a respected cultivation figure. An immortal. You shouldn’t be so casual with him”

“He told me to!” Wei Ying holds his hands up. 

Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Why would he do that?” 

Wei Ying shrugs. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Saaaay, Wen Ning?” he tilts his head. Wen Ning looks nervous. 

“W-Wei-xiong?”

“Wanna see how many rules we can break?”

“I d-don’t...i-is th-that...w-we sh-shouldn’t,” Wen Ning fidgets. 

“Aww, you guys are no fun,” Wei Ying sighs, turning on his heel, “I’m going to figure out what to do for entertainment here. I’ll bring you back some alcohol!” he waves and disappears.

Wei Ying makes his way around the Cloud Recesses, familiarizing himself with the layout. For all it’s simplicity, it really is elegant.

True to it’s name; there’s a misty cloud cover that almost blankets the ancient buildings. It feels like a place frozen in time. 

He shivers slightly in his flannel shirt and jeans and laments not being dressed for the weather.

It’s far colder than he’s used to, coming from Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng is gonna be miserable. Qinghe might be even colder, so Nie Huaisang should be fine, and Wen Ning has never seemed to be bothered by temperature changes.

It’s peaceful. 

Wei Ying breathes in the cool mountain air. He passes by a building where small faces peek out a window. He waves. 

A cluster of five children hurry out; all boys, probably around ten or so.

“Are you with the movie people?” one of them, the tallest, asks inquisitively.

“I am,” he grins, “Wei Ying,” he bows.

“I’m Lan Shixi,” the boy bows back, “I’m ten years old and a disciple of the Lan Sect!”

“You’re very polite,” Wei Ying smiles. “Tell me, Lan Shixi, where can I find a drink around here?”

Lan Shixi looks at his companions in confusion.

“I can ask Master Lan to bring some tea?” the boy blinks. Wei Ying stifles his laugh at how innocent he is. 

“Ah, that’s quite alright. I think I’ll keep exploring,” Wei Ying straightens. “It was nice to meet you, Little Lan,” he waves and starts off down a path.

The path itself is well-kept despite it looking unused. Wei Ying follows the path to a cottage. It’s a quaint looking cottage surrounded by gentian flowers.

It’s beautiful. 

Wei Ying runs his hand over one of the flowers, the petals soft beneath his hands. He’s again struck with a soft nostalgia that settles heavy in his chest. 

Why does he feel like he’s been here before? He’s never even been in the Jiangsu Province, much less Gusu itself.

He shakes himself and pulls out his phone. 

There’s no service up here, much less any WiFi, but he still takes a few pictures to send to Yanli when he’s able to.

Before leaving, she had asked him and Jiang Cheng to send her pictures. And since Jiang Cheng will either forget, or just won’t bother, it’s up to Wei Ying to fulfill their sister’s request.

Casting one last glance at the cottage, Wei Ying heads for the barrier. 

“Now,” he hums to himself, “let’s see where I can find some booze”

He sees a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and turns to look.

Lan Zhan.

The sect leader is walking across the courtyard, movements graceful and elegant.

His heart jumps into his throat at the striking beauty of the other man. He looks carved out of priceless white jade and Wei Ying finds himself staring. 

For as handsome as he is, he seems almost melancholy. Wei Ying wonders if the rumors of him being immortal are true. He wonders how long Lan Zhan has lived, what he’s seen, what he’s lived through.

Wei Ying wanders his way to the barrier, thinking. What would he do if he were immortal?

At first blush, it sounds appealing. The idea of being young and living forever, but then Wei Ying thinks about his friends and his family. Watching them age and die as he lives on.

What a lonely existence.

He glances back to the building he saw Lan Zhan disappear into and decides then and there that he’s going to be Lan Zhan’s friend. 

At least for as long as he’s alive.

Content with his decision, Wei Ying leaves the barrier to head to the little town nearby. 

He had promised his other friends alcohol after all.

Chapter Text

It’s late, almost eight thirty, and Wangji is finishing up some paperwork before he gets ready for bed.

He glances out the window of his office and movement catches his attention. 

Wangji sees Wei Ying sneaking over the wall of the Cloud Recesses and can’t help the fond smile that tugs at his lips.

Getting up from his desk, he makes his way over to where he knows Wei Ying is going to jump down to.

Wei Ying doesn’t seem to realize he’s there, so Wangji makes himself known right as Wei Ying lands on the grass.

“Ah, Lan Zhan!” he says in surprise. “W-what are you doing?” 

“Patrol,” his gaze lands on the alcohol bottles in Wei Ying’s hands and he’s struck with a feeling of painful familiarity. 

Wei Ying hides the alcohol behind his back and grins.

“Aah,” he laughs, “it’s, ah, not what it looks like?”

“Mn,” Wangji studies him, taking in the familiar features. 

He ducks forward, getting close to Wangji, close enough that the scent of Wei Ying wraps around him. Different than before, but somehow still uniquely Wei Ying. 

“Hey, if you let this slide, I’ll give you one,” he holds out the bottle of Emperor’s Smile, they had stopped using jars a couple centuries ago, and Wangji feels his knees go weak as he remembers the exact same situation several thousand years ago. 

“Not necessary,” Wangji says, “be careful”

Wei Ying falters briefly before his smile brightens.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you really are the best!” he laughs. “Come drink with us!”

Wangji knows he should say no, but he ends up following Wei Ying back to the rooms reserved for honored guests. 

“I’m back! With alcohol!” Wei Ying announces.

Inside the room Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning are sitting in a circle on the ground. They all react in various ways to Wangji’s presence; Jiang Cheng looks uncomfortable, Nie Huaisang looks intrigued and Wen Ning looks anxious.

(Although Wangji is beginning to suspect Wen Ning’s default expression is anxious).

Wei Ying cheerfully ignores them as he plops down, patting the ground next to him. Wangji sits with more grace as Wei Ying passes a bottle to each of his friends.

“We weren’t expecting anyone else, so there’s only four bottles,” Wei Ying says apologetically, “but you can share with me!” 

Share? With Wei Ying?

Drink from the same container as Wei Ying?

Put his lips where Wei Ying’s lips have been?

“Mh,” Wangji hums noncommittally, feeling his ears heat up.

“Isn’t alcohol forbidden?” he hears Jiang Cheng whisper to Nie Huaisang.

“Is it really forbidden if it’s the sect leader?” Nie Huaisang responds.

“G-guys, I’m p-pretty s-sure he c-can hear y-you,” Wen Ning says worriedly.

Wangji admits to his curiosity about the former Ghost General. He had only encountered Wen Ning a few times and wonders what the Ghost General is actually like when not a fierce corpse.

His brother’s sudden, unexplained interest in him might also contribute to said curiosity.

He had always found Wen Ning’s actions during the battle with Jin Guangshan to be strange. Why would the Ghost General fight on the side of the man who had killed his sister and held him captive?

“Hey, sect leader”

Jiang Cheng has already made his way through a third of his bottle and is staring at him with a suspicious expression.

“How come you’re allowing us to drink if alcohol is forbidden?”

Wangji looks at him. The expression on his face is eerily reminiscent of Sandu Sengshou.

“You are civilian guests, not disciples or cultivators”

Not anymore, at least.

“Huh”

His answer seems to settle Jiang Cheng who leans back on his hand, brows smoothing. His relationship with Sandu Sengshou had been cold at best, hatred at worst. It was because of him that Wei Ying had died.

Logically, he knows this Jiang Cheng is not Sandu Sengshou anymore, but every now and then his facial expressions draw Wangji back to an ancient time and place. They had been in-laws through the union of Jin Ling and Sizhui and, despite his anger towards the other, Wangji had always tried to treat Wanyin civilly by ignoring him.

Although Wanyin’s suspicious manner of death had incited Jin Ling’s determination to investigate, which had led to the realization that Jin Guangshan had truly become another Wen Ruohan.

“Hey! A-Ning!”

“Hm?” Wen Ning blinks at Wei Ying.

“Three second shot!”

Wen Ning sighs and sets his bottle down, holding out his hand. 

“Scissors, wrapping cloth, hammer!”

Wangji watches as they make the same hand gesture.

“Scissors, wrapping cloth, hammer!” Wei Ying says again. Again, the same hand gesture. 

They repeat it a third time before clinking the bottles together and taking a long drink as Jiang Cheng counts to three.

Wangji looks at Wei Ying inquisitively and Wei Ying laughs.

It does funny things to Wangji’s heart.

“You’ve never heard of this game?” 

Wangji shakes his head and Wei Ying scoots closer.

“Right, so, the purpose of the game is to beat the other person. You have three things; hammer, wrapping cloth, paper,” his hand moves into the different gestures, “at the end, each person shows a hand sign. Hammer beats scissors, scissors beats wrapping cloth, and wrapping cloth beats hammer”

“Mn”

“The way we play it,” he gestures to himself and the other three, “is that one of us calls out someone else in the group, and we have to play the game. Whoever wins has to drink from their drink for three seconds. If it’s a tie after three tries, both people have to drink”

“Wen Ning is good at the game,” Nie Huaisang interjects. “So is Wei Ying. So it’s entertaining to see them play against each other”

The former sect leader had always been an enigma to Wangji. He had long suspected that Nie Huaisang had known more than he let on. Something had changed in him after the death of his brother due to qi deviation. For all his seeming incompetence, the Nie Sect had thrived. 

As one of the only sects not tied to one of the others by marriage, Qinghe had managed to stay untouched the second longest. Their near-impenetrable fortress and inhospitable conditions also made siege difficult. 

It wasn’t until Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao had moved against Jin Guangshan during what others had called the second Sunshot Campaign. They had managed to kill Guangshan, but lost their lives and the Nie Sect fell into disarray with no clear line of succession.

“Lan Zhan...?”

Wangji shakes himself, pulling himself out of thoughts of the past as he meets Wei Ying’s concerned grey eyes. He doesn’t want Wei Ying to ever be concerned.

“Play,” Wangji turns to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying grins and holds out his hand.

“Okay, ready Lan Zhan?” Wangji nods. “Scissors, wrapping cloth, hammer”

Wangji makes the sign for hammer and Wei Ying makes the sign for scissors.

“Ahh, Lan Zhan,” he holds the bottle to his lips as Nie Huaisang counts to three. Wangji watches the bobbing of his throat, mouth suddenly dry. “You’re good at this game already!” Wei Ying praises, “Lan Zhan is probably good at everything he tries”

Wangji feels his ears turn red. Jiang Cheng snorts and takes another drink. Nie Huaisang glances between the two of them intrigued and Wen Ning is suddenly fascinated with scraping the label off the bottle.

Wei Ying holds out the bottle to Wangji with a hopeful expression.

“Idiot!” Jiang Cheng pushes his hand down, “he can’t drink”

“Oh,” Wei Ying frowns, “well, then I’ll drink on your behalf, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying lifts the bottle in his direction before taking a drink.

Wangji feels like his heart is going to burst every time Wei Ying says his name. It’s almost too much and it makes the centuries of waiting worth it.

Chapter Text

“Alright!” Huaisang claps his hands. “Wen Ning, can you get some shots of the Cloud Recesses from outside?”

“S-sure,” Wen Ning picks up the camera. He casts a glance over to where Wei Ying is pestering the sect leader.

That’s an odd relationship, Wen Ning muses, secretly videotaping as Wei Ying nudges Sect Leader Lan. He knows Wei Ying well enough to know the look on his face is the beginning of a crush.

Wen Ning knows he’s not good at much, but his skill as a cameraman is entirely due to his ability to disappear into a crowd. No one notices meek little Wen Ning, no one ever has.

It’s a perfect trait for a cameraman. Not so much for a human in general. To Wen Ning, filming when people aren’t paying attention and taking candid pictures is like tiptoeing into the kitchen late at night and stealing Oreo cookies. There’s a thrill to it, even if the footage never leaves his camera.

Wei Ying spins around to talk to Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning zooms in on the intense way the sect leader stares at him. 

Golden eyes look right at Wen Ning, narrowing. With a quiet yelp, Wen Ning takes that as his cue to leave.

He spends a few minutes walking around the outside of the Cloud Recesses. He takes a few pictures of the exterior before filming. 

It really is beautiful, he thinks, filming the intricate gate. He used to read about cultivators. The great sects and the battles they fought.

He shares the same surname as one of them. One so evil that the others sects turned against them and wiped out the entire sect. 

Go figure.

Although thinking about some of his relatives, he’s actually not that surprised the Wen name was synonymous with destruction. 

Perhaps it was a good thing they were destroyed.

Wen Ning is filming the massive rock inscribed with rules. By his count, there has to be five thousand easily.

How can anyone live with five thousand rules? 

“Wen Ning”

“W-wah!” Wen Ning startles, barely keeping hold of the camera as he stumbles backwards. A pair of large hands settle on his back, keeping him from landing unceremoniously on his butt. He glances up to see a kind smile.

“A-ah!” Wen Ning suddenly pulls away, face bright red as he spins around to face Lan Xichen. “Um. Th-thank you!” he says nervously.

“I do apologize for startling you,” Lan Xichen says, “you were filming the Wall of Discipline?”

“Y-yeah,” Wen Ning fidgets. “I h-hope th-that’s allowed?”

“Of course,” Lan Xichen smiles. Wen Ning’s stomach does a strange flip. “We gave you permission to document our history,” he waves a hand at the wall, “this is part of our history”

“D-do y-you enforce th-them a-all?”

Lan Xichen laughs and Wen Ning feels warm, but in a good way. 

“Not as stringently as we used to. Besides, some of them are no longer applicable to the 21st century”

Wen Ning looks at the wall, feeling eyes on him. He’s not used to being looked at.

“I w-wanted to b-be a c-cultivator o-once,” Wen Ning finds himself admitting, “b-but I i-imagine I wouldn’t b-be a-any good”

“Why do you say that?” Lan Xichen asks. Wen Ning shrugs.

“I’m n-not g-good at m-much,” he fiddles with the camera, “b-but th-that’s okay”

The expression on Lan Xichen’s face is soft and it makes Wen Ning feel strangely weak in the knees. Shyly, he turns the camera on Lan Xichen who waves with a cheerful smile.

“Can you teach me how to operate this?” Lan Xichen asks. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about electronics”

Self-consciously, Wen Ning shows Lan Xichen the proper way to hold it and explains what each of the buttons are for.

Lan Xichen is a surprisingly fast learner when it comes to electronics. Wen Ning mentions it and Lan Xichen smiles almost sheepishly.

“I must admit, I’ve always had a fascination with technology of the 21st century,” he turns the camera on the sky, zooming in on a cloud, “I’ve often heard the disciples that come from outside the Cloud Recesses talking about it, and one of the few times I was able to venture into town in disguise, I was able to see a television. The fact that this camera is what captures what goes on the television is amazing”

Wen Ning watches as Lan Xichen films the trees, zooming in on a nest of birds. He turns the camera on Wen Ning.

“Ah,” Wen Ning instinctively hides his face. Lan Xichen laughs.

It’s strange, how comfortable he feels around the immortal. Lan Xichen has an air about him that makes it easy for Wen Ning to relax and be slightly less anxious. 

Lan Xichen is clearly having fun with the camera, and Wen Ning finds himself rather endeared by how excited the other man is to be filming trees and snails. It reminds Wen Ning of how he was when he got his first camera.

“Wen Ning!” Jiang Cheng’s voice calls, “I hope you didn’t get lost! We’re ready to start filming!”

“I sh-should probably b-be g-getting back,” Wen Ning says apologetically. He’s surprised by how disappointed he is to part ways with the Lan.

“Of course,” Lan Xichen smiles, handing Wen Ning back his camera. “Thank you for the lesson”

The trek back to the barrier is a comfortable silence.

When they get back, Wei Ying bounds over.

“Did you get some good shots?”

Wen Ning nods. He’s not entirely sure what he has, considering he let Lan Xichen play with the camera most of the time. But he’s confident enough in his editing skills that he can pull something together.

“Places!” Nie Huaisang calls.

Wei Ying stands at the top of the stairs leading into the barrier. Nie Huaisang adjusts his position several times before giving the go-ahead.

“Here we are in front of the Cloud Recesses Cultivation School,” Wei Ying gestures at the barrier. “The Cloud Recesses was founded several thousand years ago by Lan An. Lan An was raised as a monk before leaving his temple in search of his fated person...”

Wen Ning dutifully follows Wei Ying as he talks about the Wall of Discipline and reads off some of the rules before heading back towards the barrier.

“The only way into or out of the Cloud Recesses is by possessing a jade token,” he holds one up and Wen Ning zooms in on it. “Now, for a look inside one of the oldest and most respected cultivation schools,” he passes through the barrier with Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng following.

“Cut!” Huaisang gestures. “That was very good, Wei-xiong! Sect Leader, Master Lan, can we please get you to stand here?” Huaisang gestures.

Wei Ying grins and shoots Hanguang-jun a thumbs up before looking back at the camera.

“The current leader of the Lan Sect is the immortal Hanguang-jun, courtesy name Lan Wangji. Tell me, Hanguang-jun, how long have you been Sect Leader?”

“I have been the sect leader for five hundred years”

“And before that, it was your father?”

The sect leader looks mildly uncomfortable glancing quickly at his brother, who nods.

“My brother. Lan Xichen”

“Lan Xichen?” Wei Ying asks in surprise. A surprise mirrored by Wen Ning.

“Indeed,” Lan Xichen smiles warmly, “I stepped down to cultivate in seclusion for half a century, as well as practice my other skills. It only seemed prudent to allow my brother to take over the role of sect leader. Wangji has far surpassed me in skill, now I take the role of advisor and representative”

“That’s amazing,” Wei Ying beams, “as immortals, how long have you been around for?”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen laughs, “you lose track after a couple centuries”

“Were you around for any of the big battles? The Sunshot Campaign? The Jin Uprising? Ooh! How about the Siege of the Burial Mounds where the great cultivation sects finally defeated the nefarious Yiling Patriarch and the vicious Ghost General?”

Lan Xichen’s smile seems frozen on his face. The sect leader radiates an aura of unhappiness. Huaisang suddenly lets out an odd sneeze-cough that Wen Ning is going to have to edit out.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen clears his throat, “we were. However, it’s not something we like to talk about”

“Most of the details have been lost to time,” Wei Ying muses, “perhaps that’s the reason for it. Anyways,” he gestures, “the Cloud Recesses was burnt down in the Sunshot Campaign, right?”

Lan Xichen blinks. Hanguang-jun nods his head.

“Was rebuilt”

“The Sunshot Campaign, for those of you unaware, was a bloody battle between four of the great cultivation sects; Yunmeng Jiang, Lanling Jin, Qinghe Nie, and Gusu Lan, as well as the Yiling Patriarch, against the tyrannical Qishan Wen. It ended with a victory for the alliance and the decimation of a once great, but terrible, sect”

Wen Ning shifts slightly uncomfortably at that.

Qishan Wen. 

He shakes himself and focuses on Wei Ying as they move through the Cloud Recesses.

Wen Ning can’t help but notice the way the sect leader watches Wei Ying, as though Wei Ying is the only person in the world. 

Likewise, he sees the way Wei Ying stands closer to Hanguang-jun. It’s fascinating, and more than once Wen Ning has to keep himself from zooming in on their facial expressions.

Wei Ying walks through the Cloud Recesses, talking about it’s history and asking the Lan brothers for more information. While most of the questions seem to be directed at the sect leader, Wen Ning can’t help but notice Lan Xichen does most of the talking.

The sun is beginning to set and he can see Jiang Cheng trying not to shiver. 

Wen Ning himself has never really been affected by temperature change, it’s almost as though his temperature senses are dulled. He would have to be borderline hypothermia or at risk of heatstroke in order for temperatures to make him feel uncomfortable.

Huaisang, in his short-sleeved blouse, looks fairly comfortable in the cool weather. But he must pick up on the discomfort of the other two.

“Cut!” Huaisang shouts. Wen Ning ends the roll. “That’s great, guys. Tomorrow we’ll do a Day in The Life”

“Thank god!” Wei Ying says, shivering. 

Wen Ning wishes his camera was still filming as the sect leader removes his outer robe and drapes it around Wei Ying’s shoulders. 

Instead, he snaps a couple quick stills while everyone is distracted. He catches Lan Xichen watching him, clearly amused, and he flushes a furious red before hiding his camera in the bag.

Whoops.

As Lan Xichen turns to leave, Wen Ning can’t help but take a couple pictures of him too before kicking himself for his foolishness.

What is he thinking?

Chapter Text

“Brother,” Wangji enters his brother’s room. Xichen looks up with a smile.

“Wangji. We haven’t had time to talk, have we?” Wangji shakes his head, “please, take a seat,” Xichen pours a cup of tea and slides it across to Wangji. 

“Wei Ying is back”

“Indeed,” Xichen smiles, “you are happier than I’ve seen you in a long time, Wangji. I must confess, though, I am a bit worried”

“Worried?”

“He’s mortal. I fear you will lose him again”

“I will deal with that when it comes time,” Wangji inclines his head. Xichen sighs. 

“I trust you know what you’re doing”

Wangji takes a sip of his tea.

“Brother, Wen Ning?”

Xichen sighs. 

“During the battle against the Jin Sect, I fought against Wen Ning. With what A-Yao told me, I was able to pull nails out of his skull and he returned to consciousness. He was clearly confused, and didn’t want to fight. I told him what had happened...he was horrified”

“I always wondered what caused Wen Ning to go after Jin Guangshan and Xue Yang in the end,” Wangji hums.

“Mn,” Xichen inclines his head, “Wen Ning was the reason we were able to win; Huaisang and A-Yao may have successfully weakened them, but Wen Ning delivered the final blows. With them dead, the rest of the sect gave up,” he studies his cup, “Wen Ning found me afterwards. He begged me to end it. To end him. I saw guilt in his eyes, Wangji, genuine guilt at everything he had done. He was not the monster we all thought”

Wangji nods. He vaguely remembers Wen Ning in the Burial Mounds; a diffident and quiet creature. A far cry from the vicious Ghost General.

They had believed the Ghost General had been destroyed, but during the final battle against the Jin Sect, Wen Ning had appeared on their side controlled but Xue Yang. When he had finally come clean about everything, Jin Guangyao had admitted that his father had never destroyed Wen Ning.

At the time, Wangji had been curious as to why Wen Ning would fight on the side of the man responsible for wiping out his family. He had been more confused as to why Wen Ning then turned on him.

Xichen had gone into seclusion shortly after the war, devastated by the death of both his sworn brothers and Nie Huaisang, and they had not spoken of it when he emerged.

“I met him, you know, during the archery competition. It was after you had left. I saw him practicing and complimented his form and he almost shot me in a panic,” Xichen smiles softly, “and then again, he relayed a few messages from Meng Yao during the Sunshot Campaign. It was always hard to believe that that young man ended up becoming the Ghost General”

Wangji stares at his cup.

“What’s bothering you, Wangji?” Xichen prompts gently.

“Wei Ying is back. But he is not the Wei Ying from before. What if-“ Wangji doesn’t want to voice his thoughts, afraid his brother will confirm his fears. “What if there is no way he would ever feel the same about me?”

Xichen’s smile is soft and sympathetic and a little exasperated as he reaches across the table to cover Wangji’s hand.

“I think that Young Master Wei is not so fickle a person,” Xichen muses, “if he does not reciprocate your feelings, I doubt it will be through any fault of your own. But I also do not think you have to fear that being the case”

“What if he thinks the divide between us is too great?” What if I would be holding him back?”

“Why did you cultivate to immortality, Wangji?”

“For Wei Ying”

“After cultivating to immortality for him, you would give up this easily?”

“Brother-“

“Wangji, you have never wavered before. Where is this coming from?”

“Wei Ying. He is perfect,” under his brother’s caring gaze, he admits all his fears, “but our lives are now very different. We were already very different before”

“I think you should let Young Master Wei decide how he feels,” Xichen says firmly, “but he will not be able to make that decision if he doesn’t know how you feel”

“I do not think I can endure a rejection”

Xichen gives him a look that contains a complicated play of emotions; sympathy, exasperation, affection. 

“Oh, Wangji”

Wangji feels as though there’s something his brother isn’t telling him, but he’s not sure what it is. Or why Xichen won’t tell him. But he feels relieved after talking to his brother. Even if he didn’t get a concrete solution to his worries, just voicing them to a sympathetic listener helped clear the doubts from his heart.

“Thank you, brother,” Wangji bows. Xichen smiles at him.

“Anytime, Wangji”

Wangji tilts his head, feeling a rare itch of playfulness sway through him.

“Perhaps you should see if Wen Ning would be interested in a tour of the Cloud Recesses, brother”

Xichen gracefully chokes on his tea. 

“Wangji!”

Wangji leaves the Hanshi feeling lighter than when he stepped in.

He knows his convictions are solid and that he would do anything for Wei Ying. He would wait another thousand years for Wei Ying if he had to. But Wei Ying suddenly showing up in his life again had shaken him a bit.

A warning would’ve been nice.

He just hopes Wei Ying will at least want to be his friend, even if getting him to be something more seems like a daunting idea.

Wangji hears laughter from the room that Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng are assigned to and he smiles. He’s glad that this Wei Ying is still close with his brother. He knew the fracture of the brother’s relationship had taken a toll on Wei Ying’s mental state and Wangji’s ire towards Jiang Cheng had been because of his blame.

This Jiang Cheng is not the harsh Sandu Sengshou forced into adulthood far too young and hardened by the loss of his family. This Jiang Cheng is still abrasive and rough around the edges, but it reminds Wangji of how he was during his time at the Cloud Recesses the first time.

Wangji glances up at the moon.

In his considerable lifespan, he’s seen the moon in every single phase to exist. Yet tonight, he finds himself admiring it. 

For the first time in a time too long for Wangji to remember, he feels again. As though Wei Ying’s presence is the paintbrush bringing color to his otherwise lifeless canvas.

He has Wei Ying back in his life. He’s going to hold onto this blessing for as long as he can.

Chapter Text

“The Lan Sect follows a very strict schedule,” Wei Ying is saying into the camera. “Every morning, they wake up at five and they go to sleep promptly at nine. During the day, the disciples attend classes. Many of their courses are ones that you would find in a regular school: history, mathematics, writing. But they also take courses in things like calligraphy, archery, and the spiritual arts. In addition, they have cultivation practice where they learn how to channel their spiritual energy, quell resentful spirits, and spar against fellow disciples. Music plays a large part in the curriculum at the Cloud Recesses. The Lan Sect is renowned for their skill in musical cultivation. The esteemed Hanguang-jun is willing to play a guqin piece for us”

Lan Zhan is sitting primly behind an elegant white guqin. Wei Ying decides the instrument is rather fitting for the equally elegant sect leader.

“Tell us a bit about this piece, Hanguang-jun,” Wei Ying smiles, “what is it called?”

The look Lan Zhan gives him is intense, as though he’s trying to tell Wei Ying something with his eyes. 

“Wangxian”

“Wangxian,” Wei Ying repeats, “and what is the purpose of this piece? The Lan Sect has quite a collection of songs used to do things such as calm the mind or speak to spirits. They even have a technique that uses guqin strings as a garrote! Is this one of those pieces used for cultivation?”

“No,” Lan Zhan studies him. “I composed this”

Wei Ying blinks before gathering himself.

“I’m even more excited to hear it now,” he smiles at Lan Zhan. 

Elegant fingers rest in the guqin strings and the first few notes fill the air.

Wei Ying feels his chest ache as the song wraps it’s way around him, sinking deep into his marrow as if to make a home. He feels an odd wave of nostalgia sweep through him.

The song itself is as beautiful as it is melancholy. It tugs at the heart as the notes weave a tale full of longing and yearning, of hope and desire.

Wei Ying realizes with a cold certainty that this is a love song.

Lan Zhan composed a love song.

The knowledge does something uncomfortable to Wei Ying’s insides but he chides himself. Lan Zhan has been around for thousands of years, of course he would fall in love. 

Wei Ying can’t help but wonder about the type of person who would be able to draw such feelings out of the sect leader.

She would have to be a woman of great grace and beauty. A peerless talent in the arts and a gentle demeanor. Demure, but not a pushover and kind enough to temper Lan Zhan’s impenetrability. She probably belonged to one of the great sects before their downfall.

Wei Ying imagines her as someone like his sister. Yanli would have made a perfect match for Lan Zhan. 

He wonders what happened to her. Was she unable to cultivate to immortality as well? Was she killed during one of the battles? Perhaps it was a forbidden love, the song itself certainly speaks of a longing that could be explained that way.

Wei Ying’s chest aches and he’s not sure whether it’s sorrow for Lan Zhan’s loss, or whether it’s the fact that someone once held his heart tightly enough that he would compose a song. 

And such a beautiful song too. 

It reaches a crescendo and Wei Ying is left breathless by the sheer emotion he can hear in the notes that drift through the air.

He can’t shake the nostalgia that lingers in the back of his head, clinging to his mind like a wisp of smoke.

“Wei Ying! Psst! Wei Ying!”

“Huh?” Wei Ying blinks, pulled from his thoughts. 

The song has ended and everyone is staring at him. Wei Ying realizes he was supposed to have been talking.

“Cut!” Huaisang calls. “Wen Ning, can you edit that last part out?” Wen Ning nods. “Great, alright, lets start again. You good?”

Wei Ying nods, swallowing back his feelings as he faces Lan Zhan.

“That’s a...I have no words for the beauty of that song,” Wei Ying says sincerely, “and you composed it?”

“Mn”

“What,” Wei Ying clears his throat. “What was the inspiration behind the song?”

“A person dear to me,” Lan Zhan says, golden eyes burning into Wei Ying’s. 

“Ah, I see,” Wei Ying shakes himself, getting himself back into the mindset of a presenter. “Thank you for sharing such a lovely piece. Your skill is truly unparalleled,” he turns to the camera, composed, “the Lan Sect’s cultivation style relies heavily on music. As such, most of the disciples are well-trained in either the guqin, the dizi, or the xiao. They also have a rare few who excel in voice cultivation, but the training for that is rigorous and the disciple must possess an inherent talent”

“Cut!” Huaisang calls again. “That was great, Wei-xiong!” he praises. “Now, let’s talk a little more about the rules and clothing”

“Got it!”

“And...rolling!”

“The Cloud Recesses follows a strict set of rules, not just the ones inscribed on the Wall of Discipline. For example, male and female disciples are kept separate. Historically, they rarely interacted with each other, if at all. However, in more recent times, male and female senior disciples will sometimes share certain classes as well as dine together. The Lan Clan is also known for their prodigious arm strength. Part of the punishment for breaking the rules is to copy the rules while doing a handstand!” Wei Ying gestures to the Wall of Discipline. 

“Cut!” Huaisang calls. “Move on to the clothes! We’ve talked about the rules enough...” 

Wei Ying casts a glance at Lan Zhan, who is watching him intently.

“The attire for the disciples here in the Cloud Recesses hasn’t changed from the traditional white hanfu,” he begins, focusing solely on the camera to distract himself from staring at Lan Zhan. He can see Wen Ning’s ponytail peeking over the top and fixates on that. “The outer robes of their attire are often inscribed with spells or other methods of protection against vengeful spirits. The forehead ribbon is considered a sacred part of the Lan Sect attire. Members of the direct Lan bloodline wear ribbons adorned with the signature cloud motif, whereas guest disciples, associates, and long-term visitors wear plain white ones”

Huaisang gestures and Wei Ying realizes he’s been in one spot for too long, so he moves across the pavilion as he talks.

“The meaning of the forehead ribbon is to “regulate oneself”. According to Lan An, one can only let go of all regulations when they are with their fated person. Therefore, a member of the Gusu Lan Sect cannot allow just anyone to touch their forehead ribbon, nor can they remove it in front of someone. However, once a member of the Lan Sect has found their fated person, they are allowed to tie their ribbon around them. It’s almost like a wedding ring!” Wei Ying says cheerfully.

He glances at Lan Zhan and wonders if anyone has ever seen him without his forehead ribbon.

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Ying pipes up, making a beeline for the sect leader. He can see Jiang Cheng startle and knows his brother knows what he’s going to ask. “Have you ever given your forehead ribbon away?”

“Cut!” Huaisang calls, looking panicked. “Wei-xiong! I don’t think you should ask that!” he frets.

“I have not,” Lan Zhan says calmly and Wei Ying is swept by an almost overwhelming sense of relief. 

“Not even to the person who you wrote that song for?” Wei Ying’s voice takes on a teasing tone, but he worries it sounds desperate.

“No,” Lan Zhan frowns. “That person does not know how I feel”

The use of present tense doesn’t escape Wei Ying’s notice, and suddenly he can’t breathe.

“Wei-xiong?” Huaisang asks, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying forces a smile, “I just...suddenly got dizzy,” he forces himself to breathe. “I’m gonna go..lay down”

“Wei-xiong-!” 

He ignores Huaisang’s worried call as he makes a beeline for the room he’s been assigned. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels as though he’s run a mile.

Present tense. Which means the person Lan Zhan wrote that song for is still around.

Wei Ying feels like his heart is in a vice and the vice is closing. He lays down on the hard bed and curls up, pressing his hands against his chest.

You’re being ridiculous, he chides himself. Who does he think he is, getting upset over Lan Zhan having feelings for someone?

Feelings strong enough to make him write such a beautiful song.

It’s not like Wei Ying would ever stand a chance. Not only is he a mere civilian, but Lan Zhan is immortal and beautiful and perfect. 

Wei Ying is a mess of a human being who consumes far too much junk food and can’t maintain a normal sleep schedule for shit.

No, Wei Ying knows he needs to get over whatever this silly feeling is. He cannot allow himself to feel like this.

New strategy: befriend Lan Zhan so that the pesky crush feeling will go away. 

Alternatively, he could annoy Lan Zhan into pushing him away. If he could see a harsher, more unpleasant side to the sect leader than maybe he would be able to get over his stupid crush.

Good thing for Wei Ying, his method of making friends can also have the added benefit of annoying the hell out of people.

It’s a good plan.

(There’s no plan)

Wei Ying closes his eyes to take a nap, the guqin melody drifting through his mind like a lullaby and tugs him in to sleep.

Chapter Text

The temperature is cooler than it has been in the past, but that doesn’t seem to deter Wei Ying, who almost has manic energy as he talks to the camera.

“The Lan Sect is the oldest and most esteemed of the cultivation schools remaining in the twenty-first century. Over the years, very little has changed from the days of Lan An and the Cloud Recesses continues to produce talented cultivators, educated by the esteemed and talented Hanguang-jun. Thank you for joining us in our exclusive, behind the scenes look into a hidden part of the cultivation world in modern cultivation!”

“And that’s a wrap!” Huaisang claps his hands. Wei Ying whoops loudly.

They have just finished the last day of a week of filming.

To be fair, Wen Ning muses, fussing with his camera and checking the footage he’s acquired, it’s been longer than normal. He’s not sure why Huaisang has been dragging it out, but he finds he doesn’t actually mind.

They plan to stay over the weekend and return to civilization on Monday. Wen Ning honestly wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer.

The Cloud Recesses is nice and peaceful. The scenery is beautiful and Wen Ning enjoys being able to try out different angles and lenses on the buildings and surrounding greenery. He loves the way the ever present cloud cover gives his shots an ethereal vibe.

When the four friends had started their venture into the documentary business, Wen Ning had been a little skeptical.

He had known Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng since high school. They had all met in the film club after school. Wen Ning has always loved being behind the camera, ever since his sister had bought him one for his tenth birthday. Filming and photography and editing, Wen Ning enjoyed it all. 

Wei Ying had been interested in writing screenplays, but it became apparent that his talent was in front of the camera rather than behind the scenes. 

Jiang Cheng had been dragged to the club meetings by Wei Ying and decided working with the microphones was the easiest thing to get away with.

The three of them had been responsible for filming school events and propaganda shoots for the events. They had also started a YouTube channel that was mostly them goofing around, but Wei Ying’s charisma and antics soon saw them with a significant number of followers.

In college, they had met Nie Huaisang and bonded almost right away. Huaisang had been a double film and art major with a flair for the dramatics, who knew just how to get people to see his vision for a film. 

After their graduation, they set up a small film studio; Jiang Cheng with his business degree had handled most of the logistics while Huaisang and Wei Ying had used their combined charisma and networking abilities to acquire what was, in Wen Ning’s opinion, an astounding amount of funding.

Wen Ning had spent most of the early days feeling utterly useless as he schlepped around with a camera, filming random people, animals and objects that caught his attention. He knew he didn’t have any skill in anything else that would be helpful.

Their first film, a documentary about the secret societies of China’s homeless population, had gathered a strong following with critics praising it as groundbreaking and pushing the boundaries. They had dragged Jiang Cheng in as the microphone specialist, despite his (half-hearted) protests.

Their second film had been an even bigger success; an inside look at high society and the unadulterated truth about China’s upper echelons. They had been joined by Jin Zixuan, a former classmate and close friend of Wen Ning’s. After the second film, they had been able to grow their little studio by a couple more employees.

Their third documentary, the dark side of Chinese tourism, had nearly gotten them killed. Wen Ning still has nightmares of his time fleeing from the seedy nightclub that he and another cameraman, Su Minshan, had snuck into wearing a hidden camera on their lapels. But it had been their biggest success and had gotten them a contract with a documentary channel.

The team had been praised for their willingness to push the boundaries of propriety and put themselves in danger to reveal the truth. 

Wen Ning would appreciate a little less of the danger part, considering he’s usually the one going to the shady places and risking getting stabbed or something.

Fortunately, the most dangerous thing here is the amount of pining going on between Wei Ying and the Lan Sect Leader.

After Wei Ying fled from the shoot where Hanguang-jun played the song, he had only become more hyperactive and pesky as he tried to get the attention of the sect leader. 

Even though anyone with eyes could see Hanguang-jun only had attention for Wei Ying.

It’s sweet in the candy floss rot your teeth out sort of way, and Wen Ning is happy for his friend, but he also worries a bit for Jiang Cheng’s sanity.

He peeks through the lens of his camera, zooming in on where Wei Ying is chattering away to Hanguang-jun. 

It’s glaringly obvious his friend has romantic feelings towards the Lan Sect Leader. Less obvious are the feelings that Hanguang-jun holds for Wei Ying, but they’re definitely there.

This is why they send Wen Ning into the shady places to get footage. He’s very observant, and is frequently and easily overlooked behind his camera.

“Oh, Lan Zhan, have you ever seen one of those mythical beasts they talk about? Oh! The Xuanwu of Slaughter! The books talk about the Wen Sect’s defeat of it. Was that really true?”

Wen Ning zooms in on Hanguang-jun’s face, which is the only reason he catches the brief twitching of his lips. 

“No,” Hanguang-jun says. “The Wens did not defeat it”

Wei Ying flops down on his back, the hem of his shirt riding up. Wen Ning catches the flicker of Hanguang-jun’s eyes to the revealed strip of skin.

He bites back an amused smile.

“You should rewrite the history books, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying hums, “or teach history! You know, anyone would be lucky to have you as a teacher. Hell, you could read out all five thousand rules on that rock of yours and I would happily listen. Your voice is like warm chocolate”

Wen Ning zooms in on the reddening of Hanguang-jun’s ears. 

“Wei Ying”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “We’re close, right?”

“Mn”

“Can I come visit you after the documentary is finished? Someone needs to liven this place up”

“Mn”

Wen Ning gets as close to Hanguang-jun’s face as he can, hoping to catch a flicker of something to indicate whether he’s pleased with the idea of Wei Ying visiting or not, in order to confirm his suspicions. 

“Having fun?” a gentle voice asks, amusement lacing the tone. 

Wen Ning startles and quickly switches to filming a tree as Lan Xichen settles gracefully next to him. Wen Ning doesn’t understand why the handsome man has noticed him, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. 

“My brother is happy”

“R-really?” Wen Ning blinks. He desperately wants to ask how Lan Xichen can tell when Hanguang-jun’s face never changes, but he doesn’t want to be rude.

“How does Wei Ying feel?” 

Wen Ning bites his tongue to suppress his snort. Wei Ying is clearly smitten. 

“W-well, c-considering he s-spent m-most of, of last n-night t-talking about how b-beautiful H-Hanguang-jun’s e-eyes are...” Wen Ning gestures helplessly. 

Lan Xichen looks pleased, so Wen Ning takes the risk of pointing the camera back in the direction of the pining couple.

“Say, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying hums, chewing on a blade of grass, “when was the last time you had your hair short? It’s so long and silky...” Wei Ying reaches out to touch and Wen Ning promptly zooms in on Hanguang-jun’s ears. Sure enough, they turn a dark red.

“Never,” Hanguang-jun replies.

Wen Ning turns the camera on Jiang Cheng, who is watching them with barely concealed exasperation.  

Just kiss already! he pictures written in a thought bubble over Jiang Cheng’s head.

He swings the camera over to Huaisang, who has an odd, almost smug look on his face as he watches the couple and lazily fans himself.

Wen Ning returns the focus on Wei Ying and Hanguang-jun, both amused and mortified to see Wei Ying attempting to braid the latter’s hair.

He wonders if he could get enough film to cobble together a short romance movie trailer. A hobby of his is creating movie trailers out of the things he films. He decides on the title Cultivating Love.

He almost forgets Lan Xichen is next to him until the faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla washes over him. He blinks and glances at the elder Lan brother, who is watching him with amusement.

“Do you often film your coworkers?”

Wen Ning flushes at having been called out like that.

“W-well. I, I f-film e-everything,” Wen Ning fiddles with his camera, “th-they kn-know I do...”

Lan Xichen’s expression is soft.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Wen Ning. I just find it interesting. You prefer seeing things through the lens of a camera”

Wen Ning nods and glances back at the pining couple. Wei Ying is staring longingly at Hanguang-jun, Jiang Cheng looks moments away from gouging out his own eyes and Huaisang looks delighted by everything.

“I l-like to f-film moments,” Wen Ning explains, rubbing his thumb along the top of his camera. “Th-the c-candid moments wh-where people a-are just b-being th-themselves. I, I like s-seeing people a-as th-they really are. A-and I w-want to get a-as many m-moments of m-my friends a-as I c-can so I c-can look b-back and r-remember h-how I f-felt at th-that moment”

Lan Xichen’s expression is difficult for Wen Ning to read. He shyly, in a move that’s bold for him, turns the camera on the elder Lan brother, who smiles.

“I’m flattered you think of me enough to want to film me too,” Lan Xichen hums with a smile.

Wen Ning decides not to tell Lan Xichen how much candid footage he has of the former sect leader.

There’s a commotion from the direction of Wei Ying and Hanguang-jun, Jiang Cheng’s scandalized cry of “Wei Ying, you clumsy idiot!” and he turns the camera to see Hanguang-jun flat on his back with Wei Ying on top of him. 

The microphone stand is lying on the ground along with the contents of the carrying case.

Wen Ning zooms in on the expressions on Wei Ying’s and Hanguang-jun’s faces; Wei Ying’s face resembles a ripe tomato and Hanguang-jun’s ears aren’t much better.

Lan Xichen stifles a laugh next to him. Wen Ning just shakes his head and keeps filming.

For posterity. Of course.

Chapter Text

“Look what I found!” Nie Huaisang returns to the room. 

Wei Ying looks up to see Huaisang carrying a hideous looking thing; the face is an elephant’s nose with a rhinoceros’ eyes. The body of the sculpture is like a bear, but it has an ox’s tail and legs like a tiger. In the hollow of it’s belly is a stick of incense.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Jiang Cheng crinkles his nose. “It looks like a fucking nightmare!”

“Doesn’t it?” Huaisang gleefully sets it down in the middle of the table. “You know, in ancient China, they used to use incense burners the way we use hallucinogenic drugs”

“Ancient Chinese hotboxing?” Wei Ying crawls forward, “cool!” he runs his hand down the hideous sculpture, “how does it work?”

“So, we just have to light this incense stick here, close our eyes and like, meditate basically”

“Let’s do it!” Wei Ying cheers.

“I d-don’t th-think-“

“A-Ning! Come on, be a little rebellious!”

Wen Ning looks at Jiang Cheng for help. The older man shrugs his shoulders.

“Fuck, why not?”

Huaisang grins and pulls a lighter out of his bag. 

“Okay, so, after I light it, sit back and breathe deeply. Think about your past, ooh, and picture the Cloud Recesses. Some say that you can have an out of body experience”

Jiang Cheng snorts and Wen Ning pokes at the incense stick.

“Okay, everyone, close your eyes”

Wei Ying hears the click of a lighter and the room is suddenly filled with a pleasant smell. It’s soothing and automatically makes him relax.

“When I count back from three,” Huaisang’s voice has a dreamlike quality to it, “think about your past, your present”

“Three...”

“Two...”

“One”

Wei Ying is running.

“We made it! Lets take a break, rest a bit,” he laughs, glancing over his shoulder to see Jiang Cheng adjusting purple robes. His hair is pulled into a bun.

“If you wake up late again, I definitely won’t wait for you,” Jiang Cheng says, without bite.

“It’s just being late,” Wei Ying laughs, “we’ll be punished to stand at worst, what’s there to fear?”

A flash of yellow and Wei Ying feels irritation fill him. Him and Jiang Cheng bow politely to Jin Zixuan, receiving a half-bow in return.

“Jin-xiong is getting more pompous,” Wei Ying grouses to Jiang Cheng.

“Lanling Jin Clan is wealthy as a king. He’s god’s favored one. Of course he’s pompous”

Wei Ying feels a flicker of mischief and Jiang Cheng elbows him in the side.

“Wait! Stop thinking of mischief! I’m warning you. No matter what Jin Zixuan is jie’s fiancé. They’ll get married one day. Bear with it even though you despise him”

“Alright,” Wei Ying sighs as they walk up the elegant bridge. He complains about the teacher they’re going to have.

“Hey, even a useless person could become a decent man after one or two years of his discipline,” Jiang Cheng points out.

“Am I not decent enough already?”

Jiang Cheng playfully swats him.

“Jiang-xiong! Wei-xiong!” they see Nie Huaisang waving at them.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying exchange playful shoves as they run towards him.

Wei Ying’s chest feels light.

...

Wei Ying feels the breeze in his hair as he hops from roof to roof of the Cloud Recesses. Several jars of alcohol clacking against his side.

He lands, feeling a presence behind him. He turns to glance at the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen; cold golden eyes, regal air.

“Late returners are not allowed in until the end of mao shi. Get out”

Wei Ying blinks. How can someone so beautiful be so cold?

Never mind, he’ll make a new friend!

“It’s Emperor’s Smile!” he says, “I’ll give you a jar! Make a smile, you’ll be much cuter”

This doesn’t seem to amuse his handsome new friend.

“Alcohol is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses”

“What exactly is NOT prohibited here?” Wei Ying sighs.

He sits on a branch, complaining about the rules before tearing open the top of the jar and downing it.

The handsome boy draws his sword and lashes out at Wei Ying.

All Wei Ying can think about in the ensuing fight is how beautiful his eyes are.

...

“If we could cultivate readily available resentful energy, then the spots filled with it wouldn’t be forbidden areas!”

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng says, worry tingeing his voice, “your nonsense is getting out of hand. You can speak of it, but don’t ever walk that twisted path”

Wei Ying laughs.

“Why would I leave my broad paved road for a narrow plank on murky waters?”

...

“Lan Zhan...” Wei Ying feels so tired. “Play a song for me...?”

The soft sounds of a guqin fill the cave and Wei Ying lets himself get lost in the song.

He sighs. Lan Zhan really is perfect, isn’t he?

His heart swells with a strange feeling that warms him from inside. 

...

The scent of fire scorches the air and Wei Ying is running.

“Protect Jiang Cheng well. Protect him with your life. Do you understand?”

Wei Ying feels sick, watching Madam Yu walk away.

“Mother!” Jiang Cheng’s broken shout.

...

Pain.

“A-Ning, hold him still!”

“W-Wei-gongzi. P-please, j-just a l-little l-longer...”

Wei Ying bites through the wooden stick in his mouth. The last thing he thinks is do it for Jiang Cheng.

...

Wei Ying’s senses are assaulted with the smell of blood. 

Resentful energy crawls over him like a suffocating blanket, twisting and twining through his pores.

He thinks of Madam Yu, Uncle Jiang. He thinks of shijie and Jiang Cheng. He thinks of Lotus Pier and burns.

He thinks of Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu and the burning fills his body.

Yes. He thinks, raising his hand to see the tendrils of energy digging into his skin. I can do this.

...

Vicious glee as pained screams echo through the cottage.

Purple lightning crackles and he looks at Jiang Cheng. His rage and thirst for revenge reflected in those purple eyes.

Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu die.

The seal purrs. Yes, this is what it wants.

...

“A-Ning!”

Rage fills him at the injustice. A gentle life taken unfairly. Resentful energy swirls around the broken body, wrapping around it and lifting him into the air.

Days of exhaustion. Wen Ning’s fierce corpse destroying things. Wen Qing dodging a blow from her beloved brother.

Wei Ying hits the wall; pain courses through him. Warm arms around his chest and concerned golden eyes.

Wen Ning falls to his knees.

“Jie..Wei-gongzi...”

...

“Xian-gege! Look what Rich gege bought me!”

“He likes you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughs. “Trying to steal my son from me?”

Gold eyes study him gently, sending his heart racing.

“Mn”

...

“Come back to Gusu with me”

...

“A-Li...is still...waiting for you...”

...

“A-Xian!”

“Shijie!”

...

Things are getting twisted. He can feel the rage, the sorrow, the pain.

Bloodlust. Pain. Anger. Fear.

This isn’t how things are supposed to go. 

Everything went so wrong.

He knows what he has to do.

“Wei Ying!”

Wei Ying gasps awake.

“Come back to Gusu with me!”

He opens his eyes to a pair of concerned gold ones.

“Wei Ying...”

“Lan Zhan”

.....

Jiang Cheng feels sick. 

He can still smell the sickening scent of burnt flesh. Purple electricity crackles in his mind’s eye and he feels anger.

Nausea rolls over him as loss, heavy like a lead weight in his chest, sinks into his bones and anchors itself there with anger.

He sees Wei Wuxian crouching, cradled by Lan Wangji. He sees Nie Huaisang standing, eyeing the situation with barely concealed panic. He’s in the Cloud Recesses.

Why?

Hazel eyes look at him, and he remembers the last time he had seen them he had been kissing their owner farewell.

.....

Wen Ning is running blindly. Panic fills his chest and the only thing he knows is he needs to get out of here.

“Mister Wen!”

He turns to see a flash of white and panic rockets through him.

He could hurt these people.

“No!” he shoves at the white-clad figure before fleeing through the barrier out of the Cloud Recesses. “I’m sorry!”

He needs to leave. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong anywhere.

.....

Lan Xichen has no idea what happened. 

All he knows is that he was walking back to his room when Wen Ning came tearing around the corner looking panicked.

He hurries to the quarters for honored guests, hoping to figure out what’s going on.

“I don’t know!” he hears Jiang Cheng shout. “What the fuck was that, Huaisang!?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! I really don’t know!”

“What are they!? What are you not telling us? What the fuck are we doing here!?”

“Jiang Cheng...” 

“Shut up, Wei Ying! You don’t get to speak!”

Lan Xichen slides open the door.

Nie Huaisang is pressed against the back wall, hiding behind his fan. Wei Ying is kneeling and staring into middle distance, wrapped protectively in Wangji’s arms. Jiang Cheng is standing a few feet away from Huaisang, fist clenched and eyes blazing.

The incense burner sits innocuously in the middle of the room.

Oh. 

Oh no.

He exchanges a worried glance with Wangji. 

“What do you know Huaisang!?” Jiang Cheng asks, voice breaking, “you’ve been shady about this whole thing! I trusted you, Huaisang. I trusted you because I love you. I know you’ve always had secrets, but this...did you know about this?”

Huaisang’s frantic gaze says everything. Lan Xichen feels like he’s been hit in the stomach. 

Nie Huaisang remembers.

“Guys,” Wei Ying finally seems to snap out of his trance. “Where’s Wen Ning?”

Everyone looks around the room. 

“Wen Ning is gone,” Xichen says. Everyone looks at him, suddenly aware of his presence. “I tried to stop him, but he ran through the barrier. Can someone please tell me what happened?”

“You would know,” Jiang Cheng scowls, “you were there, weren’t you Sect Leader Lan?”

Xichen sighs and exchanges a look with Wangji.

“I take it you’ve all remembered, then?”

Based on everyone’s expressions, Xichen assumes it’s probably a solid guess.

“How much of that is...” Wei Ying begins.

“Real?” Wangji says softly. “All of it”

“Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this,” Xichen says, “but...I think we need to find Wen Ning. He’s in the forests of Gusu at night, by himself”

Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying exchange a glance before leaving the room, Wangji following close behind Wei Ying.

Nie Huaisang slumps in relief. Xichen looks at him and he looks away.

“How long have you remembered?” he asks.

Flat hazel eyes meet his. There’s no trace of the airhead act that Xichen now realizes was only an act.

“Almost my entire life,” Huaisang pushes off the wall, tucking his fan into the pocket of his jeans. “But all of it came back when I first met Wei Ying”

Xichen has so many questions for Huaisang, but knows they need to be put aside in order to find Wen Ning.

He gets to the barrier just in time to see Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang going in a separate direction from Wangji and Wei Ying.

This is going to get interesting.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s shaken, angry, upset, betrayed, confused.

“A-Cheng...?” Huaisang says softly.

“How long have you known?” Jiang Cheng asks.

Huaisang inhales.

“I used to have dreams as a kid. But it wasn’t until I met you and Wei-xiong that things finally made sense and I started remembering everything”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jiang Cheng glares.

“Would you have believed me, A-Cheng?” he asks, dry amusement in his tone, “if I had told you we’re the reincarnations of famous cultivators from several thousand years ago?”

Jiang Cheng concedes the point.

He takes a breath as the old memories coalesce with the new ones. 

“Why did you make us remember?”

Huaisang looks at his fan.

“It’s the only way,” he runs his thumb along the wood of his fan, “the only way you and I could truly be together. It’s not easy being the only one who has these memories of our past lives”

Jiang Cheng glances at the fan. 

“A-Cheng! Have you seen my fan?”

“You need to keep better track of it”

“Oh, it’s in the sheets...”

“Us,” Jiang Cheng feels a sinking in his stomach, “is the...you asked me out first. Because of how we were-?”

“No!” Huaisang shakes his head, “no. Well, partially, at first. I’m not entirely sure how much of my feelings were influenced by our past lives...but I do love you. The you now and the you then”

Jiang Cheng still feels a little uncertain. A miserable expression crosses Huaisang’s face.

“I never should have done this,” he says, “I thought if everyone had their memories back it would be a good thing...but...”

“No,” Jiang Cheng says firmly, shoving his other feelings aside. “I’m glad you did”

The way the hopeful look on Huaisang’s face makes him feel is reassuring and he leans down to press a kiss to Huaisang’s lips.

They still have a lot to talk about, but for now, it’s okay. 

They pick their way through the trees for several minutes with no sign of Wen Ning.

“Where could he have gone?” Huaisang wonders, “he’s not a particularly fast runner”

“Knowing Wen Ning, he probably tripped and rolled into a ditch,” Jiang Cheng snorts. He feels a clench in his stomach. 

Wen Ning. Ghost General Wen Ning.

No matter how hard he tries, he cannot reconcile the memory he has of the ferocious corpse responsible for the deaths of hundreds with their timid, stuttering friend who can barely walk down the street without tripping over his own feet and who rescues stray animals regardless of how dangerous they are.

“Wen Ning! Is that-?”

“I-it’s j-just a baby!”

“You can’t bring a bear cub into the house!”

“I-it’s m-mom w-was killed b-by h-hunters! I c-couldn’t j-just l-leave him!”

“Wen Ning. You. Just. Don’t pet him. Wei Ying, call the zoo or something...”

“Wen Ning!” Huaisang shouts, pulling Jiang Cheng out of his memory. “Maybe I should have left Wen Ning out of it,” Huaisang frowns, “who knows what memories he has, and do you really think Wen Ning of all people would be able to handle the fact he was a fierce corpse who killed hundreds if not thousands?”

Jiang Cheng has to agree with Huaisang.

“Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang catches his hand. Jiang Cheng looks at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. About all of it. Keeping it from you, the way I handled everyone getting their memories back, all of it”

Jiang Cheng sighs and studies his partner before tugging him forward.

“It’s fine. You’re probably gonna have to answer questions from the others, and I’ve still got my own. But I’m not mad at you “

Huaisang looks relieved.

“No more secrets?” Jiang Cheng raises his eyebrow, he remembers his past self asking Huaisang the same question shortly before he was killed in an ambush by a member of the Jin Sect during a night hunt.

He grimaces at the memory.

“No more secrets,” Huaisang agrees. Jiang Cheng bends down and presses his lips to Huaisang’s in a soft, lingering kiss. “Now let’s find our friend”

“Preferably before he gets scared by a bunny rabbit or something,” Jiang Cheng snorts. Huaisang giggles and Jiang Cheng knows they’ll be alright.

“Wen Ning!”

.....

“Wen Ning!”

Wei Ying is getting a bit worried now. It’s dark and difficult to see, and Wen Ning isn’t exactly the most coordinated in the best of times.

“Wei Ying”

He glances at Lan Zhan. Memories flood his mind; Lan Zhan staring horrified at the book of porn, the stubborn determination to stay behind in the cave, the soft tones of the guqin song he played.

The warm feeling he got every time he looked at him. He knows what the feeling is now. He almost wishes he didn’t. There’s no possible way Lan Zhan feels the same.

“Lan Zhan,” he shakes his head, “it’s...”

“You remember”

“I remember”

Lan Zhan’s gaze on him is intense. 

“You knew?”

Lan Zhan inclines his head. Wei Ying sighs. 

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head, “it’s definitely something. Me, the Yiling Patriarch...” he feels his stomach lurch.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan stops him. A large, warm hand comes up to cup his cheek. “You are not him”

“Not anymore,” Wei Ying takes a shaky breath, uncertain whether it’s because of the warm hand or the memories washing over him. “But you’re still the Lan Zhan I knew then,” he laughs. “You hated me!”

“I never hated Wei Ying,” he murmurs. Wei Ying feels his heart race in his chest.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you can’t say things like that!” he laughs nervously, “you might give me the wrong idea!”

Lan Zhan tilts his head, gold eyes boring into Wei Ying’s. 

“Right idea”

Wei Ying’s breath leaves his throat and he goes weak in the knees. Lan Zhan’s hands go around his waist to support him. 

Dare he hope?

“Lan Zhan...”

Suddenly, the feelings of two lifetimes hit him.

Oh. 

The way Lan Zhan looks at him. Both now and back then.

Wangxian.

His past courtesy name; Wuxian. Wangji. Wuxian. Wangxian.

Oh.

He was an idiot in his past life. An oblivious idiot.

But he won’t make the same mistakes his previous self did, so Wei Ying throws caution to the wind as he throws his arms around Lan Zhan and kisses him. 

It’s like coming home. 

Lan Zhan’s lips are soft against his, the smell of sandalwood blanketing him in an echo of familiarity. He never wants to stop kissing him.

Warm hands tighten around his waist as Lan Zhan deepens the kiss. 

Wei Ying briefly wonders how different his past life would have been if he had accepted Lan Zhan’s invitation to Gusu, before his mind goes pleasantly fuzzy, tangling his fingers in Lan Zhan’s ridiculously soft hair as their tongues tangle in his mouth.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathes, “finally”

Wei Ying blinks before the meaning of Lan Zhan’s words filters through his brain.

“Lan Zhan...how long...?”

Lan Zhan tucks a stray chunk of hair behind Wei Ying’s ear. This close, Wei Ying can see the pinking of Lan Zhan’s ears. It’s adorable.

“Always”

It takes a moment, but the gravity of Lan Zhan’s confession sinks in, stealing his breath from his throat.

“You mean...all these centuries?”

“Waited for Wei Ying. Only Wei Ying”

Wei Ying feels his knees go weak at the sheer devotion.

“Oh Lan Zhan,” he presses closer. “No more waiting”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan’s gold eyes are soft around the edges as they regard Wei Ying. “No more waiting”

.....

Lan Xichen wonders how the others are doing. He doesn’t doubt it’s a lot for them all to take in. Although he can’t help but be happy for Wangji. 

He also can’t shake the worry of what remembering will do to Wen Ning, if his panicked flight from the Cloud Recesses is any indication.

He catches sight of broken and trampled bushes and relief floods him as he follows the trail as it loops around to the back of the mountain.

The path is erratic, but he hears movement up ahead.

“Nononononono...” 

“Wen Ning?” Xichen calls softly, worriedly. 

“No! L-leave m-me a-alone!”

He pushes through the trees into a clearing. Wen Ning is kneeling below a tree, hands over his head.

“I-I’m d-dangerous!”

“No,” Xichen says firmly, walking towards the frantic young man and kneeling next to him, “you’re not. Wen Ning, look at me”

Bloodshot aquamarine eyes fix on Xichen vacantly. It’s clear that Wen Ning is somewhere else. Xichen reaches his hand out to settle on Wen Ning’s head. Wen Ning flinches but allows Xichen to pull him close. 

“Y-you k-killed me,” Wen Ning says softly. Xichen feels his hands curl in the edges of his robes, “th-the s-second t-time...”

“Yes”

“I w-wanted y-you to...”

“You did”

“I k-killed s-so m-many...” Xichen tightens his grip as Wen Ning trembles. “I d-didn’t kn-know...”

“Wen Ning, you’re not the same person,” Xichen says, “you’re not the Ghost General anymore”

“B-but I w-was...J-Jin Z-Zixuan...I r-remember wh-what it w-was like...I p-put m-my hand...” Wen Ning sharply pulls away and Xichen winces as he throws up by the tree, reaching out and holding his hair back. “I c-can’t f-face him n-now”

“You know him in this life?” Xichen asks softly. Wen Ning nods, slumping against Xichen’s shoulder.

“W-we’re f-friends”

“You’ll be okay, Wen Ning,” Xichen murmurs. They sit there until Xichen can feel Wen Ning’s breathing even out.

Careful to not wake him up, Xichen picks up Wen Ning and begins the trek back to the Cloud Recesses.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying watches as Lan Xichen returns, carrying Wen Ning easily in his arms.

“A-Ning!” relief floods him and he moves to rush forward.

“He’s asleep,” Xichen says softly, “I think the shock was...quite a lot for him”

Jiang Cheng looks worried and Nie Huaisang looks guilty.

“He’ll be alright,” Xichen reassures them. “How are the rest of you doing?”

The three reincarnated cultivators look at each other.

“We’ll survive,” Jiang Cheng says grimly. “It’s not like it’s who we are now”

Huaisang looks at his hands. Wei Ying glances at Lan Zhan, who is still staring at him.

Lan Xichen carries Wen Ning off to the room he had been assigned as the others watch with various levels of worry. Wei Ying hopes that once he processes it, Wen Ning will be okay.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Huaisang asks sadly.

“Wen Ning is a lot stronger than people give him credit for,” Jiang Cheng crosses his arms. “He’ll be fine”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying laughs, leaning against Lan Zhan, “he might be a cinnamon roll, but he’s a tough one. Don’t worry, Huaisang. He’ll be fine once he realizes that’s not him anymore. We’re not cultivators. He’s not a fierce corpse”

“It’d be kind of cool to have a ring that turns into an energy whip, though,” Jiang Cheng muses, looking at his hand. “I miss Zidian”

“Hey!” Huaisang pipes up, “maybe we can finally get that D&D campaign going and use our past lives for characters,” he flutters his fan, “I’ve always wanted to DM”

Wei Ying grins and Jiang Cheng snorts. Lan Zhan gives him a confused look.

“It’s a role playing game,” Wei Ying explains, “you should play with us!”

“Mn”

“I made kind of a mess of this, didn’t I?” Huaisang looks sheepish.

Wei Ying shrugs. “It is what it is. Now we just move forward from it”

“So we good?” Huaisang asks.

“We’re good,” Wei Ying smiles and Huaisang relaxes.

Huaisang and Jiang Cheng bid them good night, promising to check on Wen Ning before they leave Lan Zhan and Wei Ying alone in the center of the courtyard.

“Do you want to know what happened after your death?” Lan Zhan finally asks.

Wei Ying thinks for a moment. Does he? Does it matter?

“Nah,” Wei Ying decides, “I’m good. Like Jiang Cheng said, it’s in the past. Waaay in the past”

Lan Zhan seems to accept his decision with a small smile before something seems to occur to him.

“A-Yuan lived”

Wei Ying widens his eyes as hope steals his breath.

“A-Yuan...?”

“Mn. I adopted him. His name was Lan Sizhui. He married Jin Ling. They were happy”

Happiness washes through Wei Ying and he nestles closer to Lan Zhan. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says softly. “I wish I had been less arrogant back then. I wish I had been willing to accept your invitation to return to Gusu. Maybe things would have been different”

Lan Zhan brushes his fingers down Wei Ying’s cheek and he shivers at the gentle touch.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Lan Zhan presses his lips against Wei Ying’s temple. Wei Ying closes his eyes and basks in the warmth. “Wei Ying is here now”

“I am,” Wei Ying wraps his arms around Lan Zhan’s waist, dropping his head against his shoulder, “and I’m not going to leave you again”

Lan Zhan tightens his grip, tilting Wei Ying’s head back to kiss him softly.

Now this, Wei Ying decides as Lan Zhan leads him to the Jingshi, this he can get used to.

He settles in the bed next to Lan Zhan, the warmth from the other man radiating against Wei Ying. How could he have ever thought Lan Zhan was cold? 

He lays awake staring at the ceiling. Despite having mostly made peace with the situation, his thoughts can’t help but spiral.

Each new old memory brings up a wave of bile in his throat.

He worries about Wen Ning. He worries about Jiang Cheng. He wonders why Huaisang remembered.

He shudders at the memories. But also at the similarities between the two lives.

This life had been kinder to them all. Madam Yu, while she didn’t love Wei Ying, didn’t despise him either. And she treated him fairly. Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu had divorced when the trio were in high school. Madam Yu had remarried Jin Chaoyue after the death of her husband, who had managed to temper her a bit.

Jiang Yanli had still married Jin Zixuan, who had been significantly less of a prick in this life but still a prick, but their wedding had been a Western-style affair with Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng hassling the catering company and nearly falling into the obnoxiously gold fountain.

It had been entertaining to see Jiang Cheng’s reaction when he realized their mother was going to be both Yanli’s mother and mother-in-law.

Wen Qing is a doctor, which causes Wei Ying to snort because apparently it was her destiny. He should ask Wen Ning if one of his many cousins has a baby, it would be nice to find A-Yuan in this life.

He’s grateful things were better this time around. But he also feels like it’s well-deserved.

Fate had dealt them a shitty hand the first time.

He thinks about Lan Zhan. 

Lan Zhan had somehow managed to cultivate to immortality for Wei Ying.

The thought alone leaves Wei Ying breathless.

He had thought Lan Zhan hated him. Maybe they had had a tentative friendship before everything happened, but he was pretty sure Lan Zhan had hated him at the end.

The end.

Everything feels as though it happened yesterday but has the vague haziness of distant memories.

It’s an odd sensation.

He hopes everyone else is handling this okay. He does worry about Wen Ning.

“You are thinking too loud,” Lan Zhan’s soft, deep voice drifts through the silent darkness. The arm around his shoulders tightens.

“I have a lot to think about”

“Mn. You have time”

Wei Ying nods. Lan Zhan has a point.

“I will be here with you. If you will have me”

Wei Ying lets out a soft laugh.

“If?” he asks, “Lan Zhan, you have no idea how I felt when I thought you might have feelings for someone else. When I heard the song you wrote and felt like somebody had ripped my heart out of my body. You were my soulmate in that life, we found each other again in this life. Lan Zhan, Lan Er-Gege, we’re meant to be together...”

He feels Lan Zhan shift and a pair of soft, warm lips cover his. 

Wei Ying presses into the kiss, surrendering to Lan Zhan’s gentle warmth and comforting presence and allowing it to chase away the thoughts in his head.

With Lan Zhan by his side, he can handle everything.

Chapter Text

Wen Ning wakes up with a shout.

He feels someone startle next to him but he’s too focused on pain.

The heavy slam of a boot against his chest, the way he could feel his ribs break. The piercing, ripping pain of having the flag stabbed through his stomach, and his inability to move.

Please just let me die.

He can see his sister’s face in the flames, serene and calm as she smiled at him, not even screaming once as they swallowed her body.

The sob that escapes his throat is strangled, and he feels a painful burning in his lungs.

Is he dying again?

“Hey,” a warm hand smooths down Wen Ning’s sweat-damp hair, combing it back from his face. “You’re okay, just breathe, don’t hold your breath”

Wen Ning instinctively obeys, sharply inhaling a large gulp of air. The burning in his lungs dissipates and his head begins to ache as the fog clears.

The adrenaline seems to settle down and he feels both exhausted and too overwhelmed to sleep.

“Better?” he turns his head to see Lan Xichen sitting up next to him. 

Wen Ning suddenly becomes aware. The cloudiness of his mind clears and he realizes he’s standing in the courtyard of Koi Tower.

Sect Leader Lan Xichen stands a few feet away holding his sword, expression wary. He looks exhausted; pristine white robes torn and dirty, hair in disarray.

“Wh-” Wen Ning rasps, dead vocal chords unused to being used. “Where am I?”

Lan Xichen lowers his sword slightly.

“Koi Tower,” his voice is sharp but tired, “why weren’t you destroyed?”

“I don’t know...” Wen Ning looks down at his hands. His mind is a jumble: he remembers Jin robes and a peony fan. Lan robes and unfortunate eyebrows. He remembers a voice commanding him. He had fought the voice because it wasn’t Young Master Wei, but his body had moved on it’s own. 

The sect leader has completely lowered his sword. “You’ve been fighting for Jin Guangshan and Xue Yang”

Horror flickers through Wen Ning and he stumbles forward. He doesn’t know who Xue Yang is, but Jin Guangshan...the man responsible for killing his entire family...

“Kill me...” before the sect leader can react, Wen Ning drops to his knees. Brown eyes widen. “Please kill me before I hurt anyone else”

Lan Xichen’s expression softens, but before he can react, Wen Ning sees yellow robes lunging at Sect Leader Lan. 

With a roar, he shoves the man aside, feels the pressure of the blade sink into his dead flesh, and grabs the attacker by the neck, throwing him across the room.

Lan Xichen stares in shock as Wen Ning gets to his feet.

Resentful energy surges around him as anger floods through him.

“Ghost General!” Lan Xichen shouts.

Wen Ning partially lets go of his conscious as he runs towards Koi Tower. He’s going to end this once and for all...

“-Ning? A-Ning? Wen Qionglin!”

The use of his long forgotten courtesy name startles him back to the present and he looks at Lan Xichen, who is staring at him in worry.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks softly.

“Th-the b-battle at K-Koi Tower...” Wen Ning shudders, remembering the sick thrill he got from tearing Jin Guangshan’s head from his body, and putting his fist through Xue Yang’s chest.

He remembers Huaisang’s broken body lying next to one clad in golden peony robes, surrounded by fierce corpses.

“Mn,” Lan Xichen rubs soothing circles against Wen Ning’s back and Wen Ning relaxes into him. Lan Xichen pulls him back against his chest. Wen Ning feels warm and secure. “Tell me a bit about your world,” Lan Xichen murmurs, “I’ve been in the Cloud Recesses for centuries. Tell me about the world outside”

Wen Ning hesitantly begins to tell Lan Xichen about the world; he tells him about universities, he tells him about cars, Lan Xichen seems most interested in modern technology.

Talking about the modern world calms Wen Ning down, reminds him that he’s a twenty-three year old cameraman and not a fierce corpse. He tells him about learning to drive and failing his driving test three times, he tells him about the crazy professor who used to jump on the desk to demonstrate a point. 

The former sect leader tells him about his forays into Caiyi Town and his experience with a television, how he’s asked the younger disciples about cell phones, and he’s watched them change from black blocks to flat screens.

Wen Ning begins to get sleepy again; Lan Xichen’s warm hand in his hair, the rumble of the chest beneath him has a grounding effect, reminding him that he’s alive and everything is okay, the scent of sandalwood and vanilla wraps around him like a comforting blanket.

He remembers the gentle, almost pitying, expression on the man’s handsome features as he placed a talisman on Wen Ning’s forehead and that the last thought through Wen Ning’s head was how he’s glad that kindness is the last thing he sees.

He feels a pair of warm lips against his temple and he’s not sure if it’s a dream.

...

Wen Ning is staring blankly at the wall when Wei Ying finds him the next morning. He has dark circles beneath his eyes.

“A-Ning...?” Wei Ying says cautiously.

“I-I’m okay,” Wen Ning says softly. “I-it w-was j-just a lot...”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying sits next to him. 

“Wen-xiong!” the door flies open and Huaisang comes tumbling in, followed more sedately by Jiang Cheng. “Wen-xiong!” he throws his arms around Wen Ning. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to remember!” 

“I-it’s o-okay, N-Nie-xiong,” Wen Ning replies, patting Huaisang on the back. “I g-guess e-everyone h-has a l-lot to remember”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng leans against the wall. “But it doesn’t matter, does it?” the others look at him. “Guys, that was several thousand years ago. Wen Ning, you’re not a fierce corpse, you’re a cameraman. Me and Huaisang aren’t sect leaders, and Wei Ying isn’t the Yiling Patriarch. Jie is fine. The Peacock is fine. Wen Ruohan, Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao don’t exist, as far as we know. Besides, it’s not like anyone but us remembers our past lives”

“Right!” Wei Ying says, although he’s secretly grateful that Jiang Cheng doesn’t hate him. He’s a little surprised his brother is handling it so well, but Jiang Cheng is nothing if not pragmatic. “We’re not cultivators, we own a film studio that makes documentaries. The past is the past, so let’s not worry, right?”

“Right!” Huaisang says, clearly relieved.

Wen Ning glances at the other three before bursting into tears.

“Dammit!” Jiang Cheng startles, “what did we do wrong?”

“I-I’m h-h-happy,” Wen Ning sniffles, drying his eyes, “th-that y-you g-g-guys d-don’t h-hate me”

Jiang Cheng scoffs and walks over to ruffle Wen Ning’s hair.

“You’re so ridiculous it’s impossible to hate you”

“Group hug!” Wei Ying shouts, grabbing Jiang Cheng’s sleeve and pulling him and Huaisang down. Jiang Cheng squawks and flails as they collapse on top of Wen Ning, burying him beneath them.

This is how Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen find them; a tangle of limbs and laughter, punctuated by Jiang Cheng’s angry shouts.

Lan Xichen laughs softly at the chaos, drawing their attention. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying disentangles himself and bounds over to the sect leader, shamelessly throwing his arms around his neck.

“Oh get a room,” Jiang Cheng gags from his spot still in the human pile.

“Finally,” Huaisang laughs. “Watching them be oblivious all those centuries ago was worth it for this moment”

“Speak for yourself,” Jiang Cheng pushes Huaisang, who rolls off Wen Ning and lands on the ground with a wail. “You’re not the one who will have to put up with his insufferable ass”

Freed, Wen Ning sits up and tries to smooth out his hair.

“Wen Ning,” Lan Xichen smiles softly and Wei Ying’s interest is piqued. “How are you feeling?”

Wen Ning glances at Wei Ying and the others before smiling and looking at his hands.

“I th-think I’m o-okay n-now. I-it w-was just a, a lot a-at first”

“Good,” Lan Xichen smiles, clearly relieved. “Now, how about we get breakfast?”

The chorus of agreement follows after Xichen as the group makes their way to the dining hall with Wei Ying plastering himself to Lan Zhan’s side like a limpet. 

He watches his friends talking amongst themselves and can’t help but be relieved their friendships are still strong.

There will definitely be an adjustment period as everyone reconciles who they once were, but Wei Ying knows they can handle it.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this, Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks.

“Mn”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying grips his arm, “I don’t want you giving up your immortality just for me”

“Would do anything for Wei Ying,” Wangji squeezes his hand. Wei Ying looks up at him with a soppy, sappy expression that makes Xichen’s heart happy for his brother.

Xichen draws the array, switching a character to adapt it. Wangji’s eyes widen.

“Brother?”

Xichen smiles at the concern in Wangji’s voice.

“I think we’ve both been around long enough,” he waves a hand, “it’s time for a new adventure,” he thinks about Wen Ning’s shy smile when he had asked the younger man if he minded Xichen going back with him.

“Lan Huiyi,” Xichen addresses the young woman who has just arrived, a descendent of Lan Jingyi. “You will be next in line to be sect leader, once Wangji and I leave the Cloud Recesses to begin our mortal lives”

“Zewu-jun,” Lan Huiyi bows, “it’s been an honor”

Wangji and Xichen step into the array, facing each other.

“To our next adventure,” Xichen holds out his hand.

“Mn,” Wangji clasps it with a smile.

The array activates and light surrounds them. Xichen feels his golden core fading away. It should be a sad feeling, instead it’s peaceful. 

He glances up to see Wen Ning hovering next to Wei Ying and knows he made the right decision. Wangji himself looks content. Happier than Xichen has seen him in years.

The light fades away, leaving Wangji and Xichen as mortals.

“It has been an honor, Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun,” the new sect leader, Lan Huiyi bows once Lan Xichen has placed the sect leader guan in her hair, “I promise to uphold the ideals of the Lan Sect and make you, and our ancestors, proud”

“It can’t hurt to move with the times,” Xichen offers with a smile. “Maybe even get some WiFi here”

Lan Huiyi looks delighted and Xichen is content in his decision. It’s time for the younger generations to take over. 

He glances over to where Wangji and Wei Ying are so wrapped up in each other they’ve forgotten the existence of anyone else.

“Ready to teach an old man about the modern world?” Xichen smiles at Wen Ning, taking his hand.

The younger man flushes and reaches into his bag. He pulls out a smaller version of his camera and holds it out to Xichen shyly. 

“F-for y-you,” his face is bright red.

Xichen looks at the device and a soft laugh escapes his lips as he powers it on. 

“Wait until you tell him about cell phones!” Wei Ying calls over. 

Wen Ning smiles brightly up at him and Xichen decides he’s looking forward to learning about the modern world.

And learning about Wen Ning.