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Chapter Text

They seize Wei Ying immediately. 

That should’ve been Lan Wangji’s first warning - that this is a doomed scenario, that there is no explaining - no talking - their way out of this one. No one is going to care if he and Wei Ying are sincere in their sentiment. In the eyes of his clan and the world, this is a sordid business, and they are sinners. 

“Shufu-”

The slap lands without warning. The flashing blur of a white sleeve precedes the blinding pain that blooms across his cheek, like thunderclap vibrating through his skull and down his spine. 

His Uncle, strict and severe as he is, has never raised a hand to him until now. And in his strike, Lan Wangji feels a third of Lan Qiren’s spiritual reserve and the full force of his anger. 

His mouth is filled with blood in an instant - bitter, metallic and hot, gushing from where his teeth has cut against the inside of his left cheek. The sensation, together with the pain that seems to grip his head in a vice, leaves him momentarily reeling, blinded. 

Over the ringing in his ear, Lan Wangji hears his uncle’s voice, tight and low with barely controlled fury: your sect master’s - your brother’s - husband, how dare you even think it!? Wangji, you have disappointed and disgraced this entire family! 

Then…a set of knees hits the floor with a muffled thud. 

“Shufu!”

Lan Wangji turns, in time to see Wei Wuxian struggle free from the holds of two of Lan Wangji’s shixiongs - two strong, stoned-faced senior disciples whose names he knows but for the life of him can’t recall. 

”Shufu!” Wei Wuxian cries again, when Lan Qiren remains impervious to his call. Shuffling forward on his knees, he latches onto the hem of the older man’s sleeve and begs, “Please, this isn’t his fault! It’s mine! It’s all my fault! I should be punished not Lan Zh - not Wangji. I seduced him, I led him astray, please shufu, you know your nephew, how could he do such a thing if it were not for me?! It was me, it was all me!“

Lan Wangji’s eyes widen, shocked. No, this isn’t what they’d agree to say! “Wei Ying -”   

“Indeed,” interrupts an Elder from where all twenty-five of them stood awaiting in jingshi’s courtyard. The other eight are not currently present in Cloud Recesses, but it hardly matters. If a vote is to be called today, they have majority attendance.  

“Qiren,” the Elder steps into the vestibule. “We’ve all watched Wangji grow up. We know his heart and his regard for Xichen. This isn’t his nature." 

Lan Wangji clenches his fist. Who are they to claim to know his nature, to know Wei Ying’s nature, when it is clear that prejudice has blinded them against evidence. How quickly they have allowed themselves to conclude that Wei Wuxian must be the culprit in this case, the one to carry the burden of blame. They assume that because he is from Yunmeng, that because he is Wei Wuxian, the son of the rambunctious Cangse Sanren, that he must necessarily be the wretch who corrupted Gusu’s irreproachable Hanguang-jun. 

Lan Wangji tries to open his mouth to argue in Wei Ying’s defense, but finds that he couldn’t. He glances towards his Uncle, who counters his distress with a sullen glare. Of course, the Silence Charm. The irony of the situation is not lost on him, and were he not in such a state of utter panic, Lan Wangji would have found it amusing. 

“You forget yourself, Wangji. ‘Wei Ying’ is not a name you can use. He is your xiong‘fu, and should’ve stayed that way,” says another Elder as he joins them. 

Are Wei Ying and I really such forgivable monsters, wonders Lan Wangji, for doing nothing more than love each other? Are they so despicable that his clansmen think them terrifying enough to send all the resident Elders and his uncle?  

Kneeling on the floor, still clutching the ends of Lan Qiren’s robes, Wei Wuxian’s eyes are red and watery when they meet his, and he shakes his head at him pleadingly. 

Don’t. 

Lan Wangji has never seen Wei Ying like this: obedient, frightened, and subdued. His heart squeezes in his chest so forcefully he could hardly breath. Overwhelmed by the sudden desperate need to be close to him, to hold him, Lan Wangji starts forward, but his uncle anticipates as much and has planned one step ahead. Two sharp fingers jab into his meridians on either side of his chest before he can make half a move. 

Instinct overriding manners, Lan Wangji strikes out his fist hard against his uncle’s shoulder, but it's too late. Even as he coughs wetly from the impact, Lan Qiren has managed to do as he intended. A palm, heavy and unyielding, slams into his nephew’s sternum.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying cries out his name, lurching forward, but two sets of hands grab him by the shoulder and elbow and pull him back. 

Lan Wangji releases a choked gasp. Deep within himself, he feels his golden core forcibly stutter to a stop, and the spiritual energy which flows through his meridians fades through his limbs and tapers to nothing, like a river cut off from the sea. 

Without spiritual energy securing them in his possession, Bichen appears in his grasp and his guqin materializes upon his table. In a heartbeat, the latter disappears again, confiscated by a single gesture from Elder Lan Zonghui.  

“Relinquish your sword, Wangji,” orders the man. 

No. 

“Do as he says, Lan Z…Wangji.” Over his uncle’s shoulder, Lan Wangji watches Wei Wuxian let go of Suibian. Tears track down his pale ashen face as he lowers his eyes and allows himself to be yanked roughly to his feet by the disciplinary officers. “I’m sorry for doing this to you. I was weak. Forgive me.”

No, no, no! Shut up! Shut up!!   

Lan Wangji trembles with everything he can't put to words. His grip on Bichen slackens, and he barely registers when his sword is taken from him.

Wei Wuxian has already turned away. 

Wei Ying, Wei Ying!!! 

One after another, the disciplinary committee leaves jingshi, escorting the husband of their Sect Master - their Wei-jun - away, restrained and subjugated as though he were a mere miscreant. The doors slide shut just as the last of the Silence Charm ebbs away. 

“Wei Ying! Wei Ying!!” 

Lan Wangji slams his fist against the door, but the wooden frame which usually would have been reduced into splintering pieces holds steadfast under his hand, as strong as steel, as solid as stone. 

A faint blue glow enshrouds his residence. He stumbles back, raising his eyes to follow the sprawling aura as it merges seamlessly above him.

“Repent.”  Echos the Grand Master’s voice from the other side. 

No, no, no, no, no…

“Wei Ying! Wei Ying!! WEI YING!!” Realization dawning on him, Lan Wangji throws himself into the barrier and beats at the door again, again, and again until his knuckles bust open and his palms bleed red. He swallows thickly, feeling bile rising in his throat. The meager pain of his hands does nothing to numb the horror festering in his chest.

Repent.

Just like they’d done to his mother, the Elders have sealed Lan Wangji inside this house. 

Chapter Text

Objectively, massacre is not the correct term to describe the sight before him, but it is the only word that comes to mind as Lan Wangji steps dazedly across the threshold into the courtyard of Songfeng Shuiyue Pavilion.

At some point during the hour before Nie Huaisang arrived and broke him out of jingshi, it had begun to rain. 

The swoosh of the discipline whip being wrought through the air howls louder than the easterly wind. Like lightning, it comes crashing down, delivered with a thunderous crack as it lands on a young man’s back. 

Two ninety nine. 

Technically I’m your brother too now… Let’s be friends!

But there is no light, no brief moment of wonder in the aftermath, just the echo of a sickening splatter. The cotton under-robe between whip and skin, once pristine white, has been reduced to strips and tatters. Drenched red, it is nearly indistinguishable from the raw overturned flesh.

We can’t - I can’t… I’m your, we’re - Lan Zhan, mm, Lan Zhan please - 

“Er-gongzi!”

In the periphery of his awareness, Lan Wangji hears disciples yelling his name, ghostly hands pulling at him from all directions, but it is beyond his capacity to heed those warnings now. Transfixed, he gravitates towards the man under the whip, who makes not a sound even as his body convulses with every merciless stroke. 

Three hundred.

I’m not afraid. The future doesn’t frighten me. I have you. Nothing else matters.  

Wei Wuxian lies face down along the surface of a flat long bench, stripped of his outer robes and deprived of his guan. His hair, swept over one shoulder, dips into a puddle of rain water, cloudy and pink from the blood that drips down his chin. 

Inside the dry refuge of the pavilion hall, Uncle and the Elders sit in witness. No one show any inclination to stop this insanity.

Three hundred and one. 

Don’t panic, let’s not panic. We will explain ourselves. Everything is going to be fine. Lan Zhan, look at me, do you trust me? 

As he draws close enough, Lan Wangji sees the thick strip of leather clenched between Wei Wuxian’s teeth and bound back at the base of his skull. But it's hardly the gag that keeps him silent - Wei Ying is barely conscious. 

There is water running down Lan Wangji’s face. Whether it's rain or tears, only the gods know.  

The whip sails through air again, cutting off raindrops in their paths, but -

Clang! 

Nie Huaisang’s saber swings into the disciplinary weapon, knocking it out of the hands of the disciple.   

“LAN WANGJI!” 

I’m not afraid. 

I have you. 

I have you.

You do have me.

That single thought thrusts him back into the present, freed from that far away place suffocating him inside a thick fog of utter hopelessness. 

“You cannot wield my saber. Your meridians are locked. Your core is muted. But take it anyway. At the least, it’ll intimidate. But remember, if you really try to use it without spiritual energy, it will damage you.” 

So be it. 

The rain pelts down around them, and Lan Wangji finds himself surrounded by eight senior disciples pointing their swords at him and at the saber in his hand. Without his cultivation, the autumn downpour feels like ice against his skin, and Qinghe’s first class spiritual weapon weighs more than gold. 

“Lan Wangji! Remember yourself!" 

His uncle steps out under the eave, along with five other Elders. 

“Stop this.” Lan Zhan demands, as if he has any rights to make demands, as if he hasn’t been defiling the sanctity of his brother’s marriage behind his brother’s back, as if he hasn’t broken the trust of the one person who had always, always been there for him. 

His uncle is so angry he can’t even speak, but Elder Zonghui beside him, who is the most senior and respected of the thirty-three, does not have such a reactive temper. 

“Put down the saber, Wangji," speaks Zonghui calmly. "Your sense of righteousness is misplaced. Nothing is happening here that isn’t deserved and agreed upon.” 

“Agreed upon by whom?” Lan Wangji grits his teeth, seething. 

“By all parties involved, of course. Requested even,” replies Lan Zonghui, his unaffectedness towards the violence being committed before his very eyes chills Lan Wangji to the core.  

“Wei Ying requested to be whipped three hundred times?!”

“Four hundred times,” corrects Lan Qiren, cutting into the conversation. “Your actions have violated a dozen precepts of our clan, but for the four most salient transgressions we issued fifty lashes each, totaling two hundred. As you are both participants, you were both to receive them, but Wei Wuxian offered to bear the entirety of the punishment.”

At his uncle’s words, the pain that tears through Lan Wangji is akin to being gutted by his own Bichen. 

“Take Lan-er-gongzi back to his room. He is not in his right mind.”

“Do not move!” Lan Wangji commands, as loud as his nature allows. “I am not leaving without Wei Ying.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Nn….” 

Clinging perilously to the edge of consciousness, Wei Wuxian pleads at him through hooded feverish eyes. From where he clutches at the front edge of the bench, a trembling hand reaches out and tugs on Lan Wangji’s robes. 

Just like that, like a taut string on his guqin plucked with too great a force, the tension inside him snaps, and all the fight that kept him going melts from his bones. Lan Wangji lowers his arm. Qinghe’s saber slips from his grip and lands on the ground with a splash. 

“Wei Ying…” He falls to knee, uncaring of the eyes judging them as he smooths back Wei Wuxian’s wet, matted hair. He caresses his face, undoing the gag in the process. 

The rain has stopped, but Lan Wangji continues to cry. “Why…”  

Wei Wuxian reaches for his cheek, brushing the teardrop collecting at the groove of his nose with his thumb. He smiles, a chasm of crimson red. 

“Lan Zhan…”

“I’m here, I’m here. You have me.” 

“No, no…shouldn’t be here.” Wei Wuxian shoves at him weakly. “My penance… I deserve it." 

But Lan Wangji cannot stand another second listening to such words, such lies. He removes his outer robe and lay it across Wei Wuxian’s ruined back. Then, as carefully as he could, he rolls the other man over and into his gentle embrace. 

Strengthened by resolve, he turns to the mixture of faces that watch him with anger, mortification, and disgust, and declares, “It takes two for a sin like this. If Wei Ying is culpable then so am I.”

"No!" gasps Wei Wuxian, struggling in protest. “Go, go -” 

“Three hundred and one. There are still ninety nine lashes left, aren’t there? I am here, and I submit before the ruling of the Elders and the Lan family precepts.” 

His Uncle shakes his head, sweeping back his sleeve and sighs long and loud, as though all his anger has been defeated by a sense of profound disappointment and resignation. 

Lan Zonghui steps forth, down the steps towards them. His eyes cut like frozen glass as he examines the spectacle. 

"Even your mother knew decorum,” he says, glancing from Lan Wangji kneeling on the wet ground to Wei Wuxian cradled against him. His gaze lingers there. “Or, perhaps not. The fruit does not often fall far.” 

Lan Wangji isn't sure if Zonghui meant his mother the murderess, or Cangse Sanren the sectless wanderer, but in his arms, Wei Ying seems to hear the connotation behind those callous words. He takes a shuddering breath, closes his eyes, and turns his face into Lan Zhan’s chest.

The fist that grasps at the front of his lapel trembles, tight knuckles blanched as white as his robes. 

Lan Wangji feels ill. What could Elder Zonghui have possibly insinuated for Wei Ying to hide himself away like this? As if what is said is too cruel for him to brave, as if the three hundred or so lashes he endured are nothing compared to this carefully chosen insult. 

“Words are unnecessary. You know what you know. We have nothing further to say.” Lan Wangji curls around Wei Wuxian, covering him as much as he could. 

“I’ll take the whip.”

“Your meridians are locked,” counters his uncle, a trace of worry lacing his tone. 

But Lan Wangji cannot be dissuaded. “The whip, if you please.” 

Too weak to protest further, Wei Wuxian stares up at him despairingly, dark doe eyes brimming with tears. He is terrified now, despite having shown no signs of fear just moments ago. Releasing Lan Zhan’s robes, his cold hand curls around Lan Zhan’s neck, bringing him closer. 

Lan Wangji goes willingly, eyes falling shut, and lets the press of their foreheads together anchor him to what is real, what is true. 

He hears the whip before he feels it, and when he does -

He has always known the discipline whips are painful. They are created for such purposes, charmed by the most clever and fickle of their spells. It does not kill, but it tortures. And now he understands. 

Excruciating. 

The pain is excruciating.

The second hit follows soon after the first, and when the impact explodes along the column of his back, Wei Ying quivers against him, a soft sob strangled in his throat. 

Lan Zhan does not envy his position, for he understands completely now that although the discipline whip hurts, it would hurt him more to know that it is beating down on not himself, but on the man he loves. 

The third hit never comes. 

“That’s enough!” 

All eyes turn to the source of that outraged bellow, a seldom phenomenon within Cloud Recesses. 

Lan Xichen stands under the courtyard doorway, the wind at his heels, long hair flying about him, seemingly descended from the sky. Behind him, Nie Huaisang peeks out nervously, pointing to the saber on the ground.  

“Uhm - if I could just -” 

“Xichen -” Elder Zonghui starts. 

But Lan Xichen does not allow him to finish. “When has it become acceptable at Cloud Recesses to abuse the Sect Master’s heir and husband without the Sect Master’s knowledge or consent?”

He marches up to Wangji and Wuxian and physically puts himself between them and the congregation of clan elders who has come out to greet him upon his arrival. 

Uncle sighs, for what seems like the umpteenth time that afternoon. “This is not abuse, this is punishment.” 

“Oh?” Lan Xichen tilts his head, eyebrows rising innocuously. “For their sexual relations, I assume?”  

...

This is perhaps the first time ever in Gusu Lan history that a Sect Master has rendered the Elders so utterly speechless. 

Taking advantage of their stunned silence, Lan Xichen turns to the senior disciple still holding the whip mid swing and admonishes, “Put that away before you hurt yourself.” 

"We have not told them to stop,” objects one of the Elders in the crowd lamely, as though he is unable to fully process what is happening.

The glare that Lan Xichen casts over his shoulder is cold and pointed. Without raising his voice, he replies, "But I have. And the last time I checked, Wei Wuxian is still my husband and I am still the Sect Master of Gusu Lan and the head of this family.”

“Xichen-” Uncle interjects then. “You don’t understand -” 

“On the contrary I understand perfectly. Each year, I, as Sect Master, am granted one allowance to veto the council’s decision. I have never in my life used that privilege before, because I have trusted in the wisdom and guidance of my Elders. However today, forgive me Uncle, Elders, for saying that you are all mistaken.” 

Not waiting for a response, Lan Xichen kneels down beside the two young men.

Lan Wangji stares at his brother with wide, anxious eyes and holds Wei Ying closer. He can face his uncle, he can face the Elders and all the world, but for his brother Xichen, the subject of his betrayal, he does not know how to begin to atone or what he should do next.  

“Xiong-zhang, I -”

“How is he?” His brother’s brows are furrowed tightly as he scans Wei Ying up and down. 

Of course, thinks Lan Wangji. Of course his focus would be on Wei Ying. Xichen is not like Uncle, not like the Elders; he knows better. He knows Wangji. And because he knows Wangji, he would know that the one to blame in this wretched situation is not Wei Wuxian. 

Lan Wangji hangs his head. His whole face is hot with shame, and he cannot bear to look at his brother anymore. 

“Not good.”

Nestled against him, Wei Ying sways in and out of consciousness. With the adrenaline of Lan Zhan’s punishment fading, the effects of the freezing rain and his earlier punishment are quickly catching up to him.

“How many?” 

“Three hundred and one.” 

Lan Xichen curses under his breath. 

A stream of pale blue light floods into Wei Ying’s left temple. Lan Wangji lets out a breath of relief. His brother is strong, of cultivation and of heart. He is kind and forgiving, and undeserving of all that Lan Wangji has done to him, but at least…at least he can forgive Wei Ying, if not his little brother. That is mercy enough. 

The infusion of spiritual energy jolts Wei Ying awake. Sucking in a sharp breath, he grabs onto Lan Xichen’s wrist. 

Lan Wangji watches with twisted pain and guilt as Wei Ying turns those doe eyes on his husband, “Zewu-jun -” 

“Wuxian, conserve your energy. All can be said later.”  

“No, no, Zewu-jun.” Wei Wuxian shakes his head, “Don’t save me. If you do… Please…don’t send me back to Yunmeng. I can’t go back like this. Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang - I can’t. I know what I have done. I know I deserve everything - anything - but please I beg you, I am willing to die, but let me die here at Gusu. Please the disgrace on my family, on Yunmeng -”

Lan Xichen dabs his clammy forehead with the edge of his sleeve. “Shh, enough of that. You’re delirious, A-Xian. You know not what you speak. No one is going to die, and I will not send you back to Yunmeng.” He lay the back of his hand against Wei Wuxian’s temple. “Heavens, he’s burning up - Wangji!” 

Lan Wangji does not realize he has faded off to that hazy place again until his brother shakes him by the shoulder. A cool hand presses against his forehead. “Dear gods, you too. What - what happened to your -”

“It’s been locked,” pipes up Nie Huaisang, clutching his saber. Amidst the chaos, no one seems to be questioning his presence and what he is still doing there. “I tried but I couldn’t -” 

“No, you wouldn’t be able to. The spiritual seal of Gusu Lan can only be undone by the natural momentum of the cultivator’s core. It’ll take time. Come help him, Huaisang.” 

Nie Huaisang throws an arm around Lan Wangji’s shoulder as Lan Xichen lifts Wei Wuxian into his arms. 

Together, they rush towards Hanshi. 

Chapter Text

Jiang Yanli is sweating by the time her boat from Lanling finally docked at the pier. In the back of her mind is the constant nagging agitation of being away from Jin Ling, but Zixuan has reassured her that he will clear his agenda for the day and stay with their son diligently. The animosity and tension that simmer beneath the surface of Jinlintai’s false tranquility could erupt…any day. Like arrows on a bow pulled taut, they are all waiting for the release. 

At time like this, Jiang Yanli did not think she would have to worry about yet another disaster, but here she is, rushing to her maiden home bearing the most heinous of rumours. 

Jiang Yanli’s frown darkens, remembering the smugness on Jin Zixun’s face that morning in the peony garden. The derogatory remarks had almost been enough to make her hurl up her breakfast.

Is this the teachings of Yunmeng? I would have expected better from Lotus Pier, but then again, that ill-bred tramp have always been this way. It wouldn’t even be surprising had his target not been Lan Wangji. Righteous holier-than-thou Lan Wangji.  Only goes to show you can never really know a person, isn’t that right, dear cousin? 

Jiang Yanli storms through the front gates, a torrent of gold silk and coral chiffon. Not waiting for disciples to announce her, she aims straight for the main hall.

 “A-die, a-niang!”

Her heart is in her throat. Oh, but she could already imagine her mother’s face. This could end badly in so many ways. If there is any truth to these rumours…she does not know how Gusu Lan deals with such an infraction, but the Violet Spider would demonstrate to the world exactly why she is dubbed thusly. The stain upon Yunmeng and Lotus Pier, upon the Jiang family - there is not a doubt in Jiang Yanli’s mind that her mother will take it all out on Wei Wuxian. 

Impossible. Simply impossible. It can’t be true. A-Xian would never. He would never - 

Except maybe it is all true. It could be… because - because she herself had seen it, just weeks ago, at Jinlintai, at A-Ling’s one-month celebration - 

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, look, look how chubby he is, isn’t my nephew the cutest?”

“Mn. Very cute.” 

It should’ve been an innocent enough exchange, and it would’ve been, had she not seen the hand Lan Wangji laid against the small of A-Xian’s back as he leaned over his shoulder to peer down at the baby. Jiang Yanli, who had looked away briefly to instruct the wet-nurse to fetch a soother for A-Ling, had turned around to witness the hand caress her brother low along his spine, close to his tail bone. 

Heavens above, what if it’s true…

She was shocked to say the least. That should’ve been an inappropriate action for anyone who wasn’t Lan Xichen, and even if it were Lan Xichen, the placement of that hand was dangerously bordering on indecent! Though the garden at the time contained no one but them three and baby Rulan basking in their loving attention, they were still very much out in the open public. Any disciple or banquet guest could have come strolling through and seen! 

She had expected A-Xian to jerk, to flinch, to moved away and be offended by such a liberal gesture of familiarity and affection, but her brother didn’t move an inch. Instead, he turned and flashed Lan Wangji a smile that was as warm and bright as the morning sun. Graced with the potency of A-Xian’s joy, Lan Wangji’s whole countenance softened, from his eyes to his lips which curled ever so slightly at the corner into a gentle smile of his own.  

Yanli had told herself that it was nothing, that she was over thinking it, that it was a good thing that A-Xian was able to befriend the unapproachable Hanguang-jun. But now…

No… oh A-Xian, didi, what have you done… 

“Da-xiao’jie!” the maid exclaims and curtsies to her as Jiang Yanli approaches the doorway of the empty main hall. “Thank goodness you are here! Zong’zhu, fu’ren and shao’ye are all in an uproar!”   

So words have reached Lotus Pier too…

Damage control, what she needs to do is damage control. She can do this. She is not Jin-shao-fu’ren, the future Lady of Lanling, for nothing. 

Jiang Yanli spins on the maid. “My parents, where are they?!” 

“In the Master’s study!” 

She follows the maid as they wind through Lotus Pier’s many boardwalk aisles and water gardens. Without realizing, the two of them quicken their pace a trot then to a run when they hear Yu Ziyuan’s voice echoing from the distance.

“A-die, a-niang!” Jiang Yanli charges into her father’s study, interrupting her mother mid-tirade. “Something must be done about these abominable rumours circulating -” 

Yanli freezes, one feet still on the other side of the threshold. The heart that has been skipping in her throat drops instantly, free falling into the deepest, darkest pit of her gut where her suspicions hid all along.

Jiang Fengmian sits in his front of his work table, hunched over, his whole weight supported by the hand spanning his forehead. In his other hand is several sheets of paper - letters or missives by the look of it, Gusu Lan’s ink emblem just visible underneath his thumb.

Jiang Yanli has never seen her father so utterly defeated. 

Between her parents is her little brother, clearly in the middle of trying to calm down their mother, but is equally red in the face, and practically bristling like an enraged kitten. 

Upon her arrival, three pairs of eyes flick simultaneously to the door. 

“A-Li.” The fury that seems to evaporate from Madam Yu’s every pore tempers fractionally at the sight of her daughter. “What brings you home?” 

“What brings me -” Jiang Yanli gapes, glancing from her mother to her father to her brother. “The rumours about A-Xian -” 

Instantly incensed, Yu Ziyuan exclaims, “How did you find out?!” 

Once, such a display would’ve cowed her without fail, but Jiang Yanli is no longer a child of timid disposition. Living in a pit of snakes has toughened her against all manners of the world’s assault. 

“I overheard my maids gossiping amongst themselves this morning. A-Xuan heard it from his cousins. I dare say even His Excellency and pomu would’ve heard of it by now.” 

Jiang Yanli purses her lips, feeling a sudden sense of unease over top the preexisting anxiety. “Was it supposed to be a secret?” 

Jiang Fengmian sighes, holding out the letter towards his children as if its mere existence appalls him. “A letter from Elders of Gusu Lan arrived this morning.”

Jiang Cheng takes the sheets from their father, hesitating when Yanli strides up to him. “A-jie…”  

In the background, Madam Yu paces the length of her husband’s study, cursing under her breath.

“Thank goodness you have married and married well, A-Li,” She says. “Or else this boy’s philandering ways would have ruined your prospects. As it is, A-Cheng -”

Swirling on his mother in an uncharacteristically brisk manner, Jiang Wangyin interjectes loudly, “I don’t care about prospects, a-niang! They had him whipped! Three hundred and one disciplinary lashes! How is he now? Is he even even - even alive?! Gusu Lan doesn’t tell us anything -”

“What?!” Jiang Yanli yanks the letter from Jiang Cheng’s grasp, eyes darting back and forth as she bores over its contents. A moment later, she lowers it slowly, looking up at her brother whose distress mirrors her own, and then at their parents whose distress is for different reasons entirely, reasons she understands but cannot empathize at all. 

The world suddenly feels enormous, cold, and without air. Jiang Yanli stumbles back half a step, as imagined scenes of A-Xian being pinned down and tortured flash before her eyes. 

“A-jie!” Jiang Cheng lunges forward and catches her by the elbow. 

Jiang Yanli trembles, with fury or fear she cannot discern. “How could they do such a thing to him? Three hundred lashes…What about Lan-er-gongzi? What punishment did he receive?!“

Rising from his seat, their father sighs deeply, folding his hands behind him. “Unfortunately, the fault lies with us.”

Nothing then. Typical. 

Jiang Cheng makes a frustrated noise. “Us?! How could the fault be with us?! That’s bullshit!”

But Madam Yu, for once, agrees with her husband. “We all know that Wei Wuxian is a notorious flirt. It’s hardly surprising that something like that would -”

“A-niang that isn’t true!” Both Jiang children cry out at the same time. 

“But A-Xian and Hanguang-jun were caught in the act,” Their father admonishs them, displeased with their tone. “There were multiple eye witnesses.” 

Eye witnesses. Jiang Yanli can only imagine what that means. Surely they were not found in…in bed together. Multiple eye witnesses, no surely not. It couldn’t be as bad as that. At best, at best… at best it's something akin to what she’d seen. A misplaced hand, a misconstrued embrace… a kiss - 

No, no, even that would be too much.  

“…rolling around in the grass like a heathen, taking Hanguang-jun down with him -” 

Jiang Yanli’s head snaps up at her mother’s vivid description of the event. Her words match what she had heard in Lanling from the maids and disciples and Zixuan’s cousins. That A-Xian and Lan Wangji were found lying together in the grass, with her brother sitting astride the Second Jade, their lips exchanging more than just whispers. 

A-Xian, A-Xian how am I supposed to help you now…what can I do now? 

Tears dissolve her vision into fractals of colours and light. She turns away from her family as the first of them begins to fall. Mother never liked her tears, and Father never knew what to do with them. 

Her brother A-Cheng, however, cannot be stopped once he got started, and whatever ignited him before Jiang Yanli arrived had clearly sparked a wild fire that burned through the last of Jiang Wanyin’s patience with this family. 

"Rolling around in the grass?! Then it must be Lan Wangji’s fault! You’ve all mistaken Wei Wuxian. Yes he’s loud and obnoxious and chatty, but that’s it! If people mistaken him for a scoundrel, it’s only because he’s friendly and talkative and doesn’t have a filter half the time.”

Jiang Cheng takes a breath, shifting his glance from his mother to his father, who stares at him with something akin to shock and an emotion he can't quite place. 

“I know him, a-die, a-niang.” Jiang Cheng continues, quieter. “Wei Wuxian, he’s - he’s - he was a virgin before he married.” A heated blush bloomed across his cheeks, but he pushed through the embarrassment. “A-Xian was a huge virgin! He’s never even held hands with anyone!”

Exasperated, Yu Ziyuan rolls her eyes at her son, as if his arguments are nothing but the antics of a naive child. “Son, you can’t know that -”

“I do know that because I know him!” Jiang Cheng protests fiercely, both red in the face and around his eyes now. He is close to tears too. 

“And that Lan Wangji,” he spits with obvious disdain, “Cloud Recesses’ disciples are all scared of him. Everyone knows he is cold and disagreeable! If you don’t believe me, ask Jin Zixuan! A-jie, you were at Cloud Recesses too with us, is that not what the females disciples say? That he never smiles, never talks, never mingles with anyone! Gusu Lan wants to feed us the tale that Wei Wuxian, within a span of a year, went from completely inexperienced to seducing the most unsociable man of our generation?! I refuse to believe it! Who’s to say A-Xian is at fault? Who’s to say Lan Wangji isn’t a….a… secret sex fiend!”

Jiang Cheng’s outcry silences the whole room. Jiang Yanli feels a bubble of hysteria rising in her chest. Things are starting to spin out of control. 

“Jiang Cheng!” Jiang Fengmian scolds. “You watch your language in front your elders, and you sister.” 

At that, Jiang Yanli whips her sleeve back in annoyance, raising her voice for the first time since this whole ordeal began, “Oh please a-die, I have a baby son!”

A-Xian’s life and future hung in the balance and language is where he draws the line? Not the three hundred or so lashes?! 

Dropping the letter onto the table, she inhales deeply and gathers herself. Now is no time to let her emotions get the best of her. 

“When did they say the incident was?” She asks. 

“Two days ago,” replies her father. 

Two days ago and already most of Jinlintai is well versed in the details of the scandal? Jiang Yanli believes in the power of gossip to spread like an infection, but even so, the speed at which this specific piece of information has disseminated strikes her as particularly malignant. 

Gusu Lan would’ve wanted to contain it. To save face but also to not push Yunmeng Jiang to the brink. This is an alliance after all. Marriage is one thing, but the stability of our sects is another all together. 

But the containment clearly hasn't turned out as intended. Whatever machination is behind this, the proverbial cat is out of the bag and there is no reversing its effects. Were it a simple family matter, Jiang Yanli would not doubt her parents’ ability to wrangle some kind of compromise from the onerous traditionalists whom Cloud Recesses reveres as their Elders. 

和离 heli - an amicable separation. That is the best course of action, to save face and to preserve the peace between their clans. 

But with rumours festering in every corner of their realm, passed from mouth to ear and mouth to ear again, embellished and dramatized along the way, it is not feasible anymore to settle this under the table.

More than just the relationship between three individuals, the reputation and dignity of two major clans rest on the line. 

As a married woman in this world, Jiang Yanli knows as much as her mother knows, as much as any woman knows, that this line is more often than not painted with blood. 

“Did Gusu Lan voice any demands from us?”

“Not as of yet,” says Jiang Fengmian. “Though, they invited your mother and I to Cloud Recesses in a week’s time to discuss what to do be done. They did not say in as many words, but we must prepare ourselves for the possibility that they intend to ‘xiu’fu’.”

Yanli gasps, “They want to ‘xiu’ A-Xian?” For something that was at best only half his fault?

‘xiu’fu’ or 'xiu'qi'  is not just a divorce. It is a condemnation, like discarding a pair of used old shoes, dregs to be tossed out. It is the fate of almost every woman found guilty of betraying her marriage bed, and some for reasons even less than that. The unfortunates who are ‘xiu’-ed by their husbands can never wash themselves clean of the stain upon their persons. They live a ruined life, a half-life plagued by gossips and scorn, not that they live all that long in the end.

A-Xian may not be a woman, but theirs is a gendered society, and his marrying out of Yunmeng Jiang and into Gusu Lan has fixed his position in a lower stratum. Because of this, his outcome would not be much better.  

The horrifying truth is, Jiang Yanli cannot dispute that Gusu Lan Sect and Lan Xichen are well within their rights to do whatever they damn well pleased. 

Except they cannot deny that Lan Wangji is just as culpable. That is the only card we have left to play… 

While she struggles internally with the fine minutiae of social niceties, her brother Jiang Cheng’s thoughts are going down an entirely different path. 

“Why is it that none of you are indignant?!” He stomps his feet, fist clenched and shaking. “Have you for one second even considered that maybe Wei Wuxian wasn’t even a willing participant? That Lan Wangji had - had forced himself on - on…” A-Cheng trails off, the end of that sentence too gruesome to complete. His meaning, however, is lost on no one. 

Jiang Yanli sighs, touched by the extent of A-Cheng’s concern. Though perhaps in this one instance, he really has overreached. Not that this wouldn’t be a possibility of course, and had the accused been her and not A-Xian, and the man been - hm say Jin Zixun- and not Lan Wangji, then what he suggests would be at the forefront of their parents’ suspicions. Except Wei Wuxian is not Jiang Yanli. Zewu-jun has not married him solely for his pretty face. By all standards, Wei Yin is a proficient cultivator, even more powerful now that he’s matured and come into his own. That anyone can wrangle him on his back for that kind of purpose is indeed not very likely, and besides - 

“Lan Zhan, would you like to hold him? Hold Rulan?” 

“Mn? Looks heavy.” 

“Lan Zhan!” 

No, decides Jiang Yanli, her brother’s laughter still echoing in her memory. It is far more plausible that this love affair is more love than affair, which is why the wound it will inevitably leave behind for both A-Xian and Lan Wangji will be that much harder to heal.  

She turns her attention back to Jiang Cheng, who has picked up on his tirade again and ploughs forth uninhibited. 

“Look at you both. Look at this family, if it even is that at all! Wei Wuxian is at Cloud Recesses right now, suffering, and none of you even care! You only care about what this will do to Lotus Pier’s image. A-die, you claim to love him, doted on him his whole life, but where are you now that he needs you?! A-niang, Cangse Sanren is dead. She did not raise him, you did! And even if he is Father’s son, so what, so what?! Has he not done everything you ever asked him? Has he not made Lotus Pier proud? Do you even know how many bastards Jin Guangshan has floating around unclaimed?! Yunmeng only has one Wei Wuxian, and blood or not, I only have one brother!“

Jiang Cheng breaks off abruptly, face wet with tears. He makes a rough swipe at them with his sleeves, but speaks no more. Jiang Yanli isn't sure if it's because his audacity has shocked even himself or if he realizes that any more unfiltered outbursts and Madam Yu really would let him have a taste of Zidian’s sting. 

Knowing he just unloaded a lot of bold words that were the epitome of impertinent behaviour, and not wishing to stick around to find out their consequences, Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu and spins on his heels. 

Purple lightning zips through the air as the whip tail clacks against the door frame, jolting him sideways. 

“Where do you think you’re going boy? Stop at once!”

“I’m going to Cloud Recesses and getting my brother back! If Gusu Lan doesn’t want him, then I will not leave him there to be abused! He deserves to come home, and to hell with them!”

“A-Cheng, A-Cheng, didi, wait, wait!” Jiang Yanli rushes to his side, stopping him in his track. “Impulsivity solves nothing. We cannot rush this. A-die, a-niang, A-Cheng has obviously had quite a shock, as we all have. He isn’t himself; please forgive him for his earlier rudeness. I’ll take him out to the river to cool off. Come, A-Cheng, come along.” 

Begrudgingly, Jiang Cheng allows himself to be dragged away by his sister. 

“Not a word from you until we’re out of earshot,” she whispers to him. 

Wilting, he obeys. 

Jiang Yanli keeps a tight grip on this brother of hers. She knows she has to think of a solution quickly and carefully. If not, then by the week’s end, A-Cheng could very well be the only brother she has left.   

Chapter Text

When he was a child, the townsfolks of Lotus Pier used to tell tales of the eighteen levels of 地狱 (di-yu hell), and that when bad people died, the little demons of the underworld would drag their souls to the lowest pit and throw them into a vat of boiling oil.

Jiang Cheng used to scoff and call these stories stupid, but even so, he would shrink back against his da-shixiong and cling just a little tighter onto the back of Wei Wuxian’s uniform.

Wei Wuxian used to laugh, pat Jiang Cheng on the shoulder and say, “Aiyo A-Cheng, like you said, it’s just a stupid story. And besides, only bad people go to hell. We’re not bad, so we don’t have to worry about it!”

This is a rule unanimously accepted that good people are allowed to reincarnate and bad people are sent to hell to suffer, bad people like murderers and rapists, and kidnappers and adulterers -

Adulterers.

If hell is a vat of boiling oil, then maybe the stories are true after all, because for seven days, Wei Wuxian burns.

For seven days, he exists in a place that is neither here nor there. He is disembodied, suspended, and unable to move or speak or see.  

There are flames dancing on his skin and a fire raging from his core through his bones. He cannot scream; he cannot run. He can neither feel nor control his limbs, or know if indeed he still has them. Each breath he takes is liquid heat flooding his lungs. His entire world is airless and somehow heavy like lead, suffocating him and crushing him into himself. There is no up no down, no north or south or time or space, only the never ending moment of the unrelenting pain.  

Even so, in the back of his mind, where the little boy Wei Ying who grew up listening to the old wives’ tale hides, he knows that he deserves every minute of it.

His actions have ruined himself, ruined Lan Zhan, and if news of this gets out, he would be bringing shame upon all of Yunmeng Jiang. Their First Disciple, Jiang Fengmian’s treasured ward who he favoured better than his own son, turns to be nothing more than a - how did that one disciple put it, as yes - faithless whore.

Wei Wuxian knows that he is not dead. He knows this because though he cannot speak and cannot hide, he can still hear the words of those around him: the disciples guarding his room, the healers changing his bandages, and the elders that come to check on him once a day.

I liked Wei-jun, he’s nice to the juniors and outer disciples, but how could he do such a thing to Zewu-jun! -

He’s ruined our Er-gongzi, you know it’s true -

- loud, brash, annoying. He’s not a Lan and he’ll never be a Lan -

Poor Zewu-jun -

I would have expected better of Lan Wangji.

Humiliated our Sect Master -

If they hadn’t caught him with Hanguang-jun, I’d eat my ribbon before I believe something like this -

Betrayed him -

Used Hanguang-jun -

What does Er-gongzi even see in him?

Is it really so hard to imagine? They are both young. The young are often reckless and sentimental.

This can’t be Wangji’s fault.

It’s not Lan Zhan’s fault. How could it be? How could any of this be Lan Zhan’s fault when all he’s ever tried to do is shield Wei Wuxian, to be his friend, his confidant, his shoulder to lean on when he had no one to turn to in Cloud Recesses.

Wei Wuxian knows that to the outside world, he has already been granted more than he should have. A son of a servant married high above his station to the esteemed Zewu-jun, the leading cultivator of their generation, handsome, kind and the best of men. Even in death, Lan Xichen had found a way to miraculously return to him. What more could Wei Wuxian possibly want? How shameless, how greedy is he to want anything - anyone - else? 

And how dare he think that someone like him deserves someone as good as Lan Zhan?

Wei Ying…

Wei Wuxian knows he doesn’t deserve Lan Zhan, but he remembers every touch, every smile, every memory, bad, good, or bittersweet. He remembers Lan Zhan’s hands, warm and firm around his own, under the table where they sat side by side dredging through tedious paper work, burning the midnight oil. He remembers Bichen glistening under the sun, clashing with Suibian as they duelled in the training ground for the juniors to observe. He remembers the soft gasp that escaped those lips the first he let Lan Zhan undress him in the dark. He remembers, and remembers and remembers, and he doesn’t regret. Even if it’s wrong, even if it’s a crime, Wei Wuxian cannot regret Lan Wangji. Not at all. Not one second of it.

Perhaps he always knew that it couldn’t last. Nothing gold ever stayed. Perhaps he always knew this day was coming, but even if he could go back and redo everything, he would choose the same and fall again, and again, and again. Lan Zhan loves him, trusts him, and has given himself to him, and he will not sully Lan Zhan’s faith with the ugliness of doubt.

If only he could protect Lan Zhan the way Lan Zhan has always protected him…

The pain of the lashes he can endure, but the guilt of knowing an association with him has possibly tainted Lan Zhan for the rest of his life no pain can compare.

For that, he might’ve cried, but he’s not sure. The fire burns it all away.

On the eighth morning after the discovery of the affair, Wei Wuxian awakens from a dreamless sleep, emerging from the fiery vapours that have mercifully dwindled. Slowly his eyes open, bringing into sight a ceiling he does not recognize.

A cool cloth is pressed against his neck. He savours the small respite, blinking several times to clear the fog from his eyes. At some point, the Lans must’ve removed him from hanshi where Lan Xichen initially brought him. Missing from his view is the pale tulle canopy that drapes over the bed he shares with Lan Xichen. The bed beneath him is hard too, more akin to the bed he had as a guest disciple than accommodations befitting either of the Jades.

“A-Xian…”

The cool cloth is replaced with the back of a gentle hand laying against his forehead.

Shijie…?

“Shi-shijie?” His voice croaks, hoarse from disuse. His entire mouth is desert-dry and tastes like death warmed over. How could his sister be here?! Gusu Lan actually allowed her to visit him?! Wei Wuxian has so many questions. He tries to sit up, but pain explodes across his body with even the slightest movement. Swallowing an agonized cry, he collapses back down.

“Don’t get up, A-Xian. You’ve been running a fever for days.”

Jiang Yanli’s presence brings him a margin of peace and comfort, though he has questions she won’t answer. Instead, she washes his face and brushes out his hair and does not say word throughout. Worry draws in her brows tightly, and the tension in her body is palpable.

When she is satisfied with the amount of lotus and pork bone soup she’s managed to spoon feed into him, Jiang Yanli holds his hand and tells him that Madam Yu and Yunmeng Jiang’s elders have arrived.

~~~

The situation as it stands is abysmal, Lan Zonghui knows. The public nature of the affair is such that both families are scrambling to save face.

The nine Jiang Elders, dressed in dark maroon, navy and Yunmeng violet, sit opposing them on one side of the room. On their own side, the nine most prominent Lan Elders stare stoically at their counterparts. It would have been poor manners - not to mention cramped - to invite all thirty-three of them to the “emergency family meeting”. Nine is more than enough to represent Cloud Recesses, and however the discussion goes, trust is placed upon the nine to come to an arrangement that satisfies the needs and dignity of both families.

…Not that there’s much dignity left to salvage. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s sordid relation is a thing of public knowledge by now.

At the front of the room, Lan Qiren and Yu Ziyuan match each other grimace for grimace, both of equal displeasure. Lan Zonghui isn’t sure whether he should be glad or upset that Jiang Fengmian has not deigned it his responsibility to show up in person, instead dispatching his lady to do the dirty work of negotiating for him.

Whether Jiang Fengmian is truly so distraught by his favourite ward’s misconduct that he has taken ill or it’s just another excuse to avoid facing the inevitable is inconsequential now. Yu Ziyuan - the Violet Spider - is the one they must content with, and though she is not known to favour Wei Wuxian, Madam Yu is quick-tempered, stubborn, and protective of Lotus Pier to a fault.

Whatever she lacks in care for Wei Wuxian personally, she makes up for in her pride for her clan and family.

The Lans opt to comment nothing of Jiang Fengmian’s lack of attendance. On their part, Lan Xichen is equally absent. As he is the “offended” party, his presence ought to have been the most needed, but the Elders collectively decided that Xichen’s behaviour in the past week has been stranger than strange. Not only was he not upset, but he seemed to have known about it all along and has been passively supporting the development of Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s relationship.

Xichen is of the loud opinion that he and Wei Wuxian should be granted an amicable separation and that Wangji should be allowed to marry his divorcé in his stead. If his intent is to give at least one of the Elders a stroke, then he’s come pretty damn close.

We’ve never consummated our marriage. Wangji and A-Xian betrayed the trust of no one. They care for each other dearly and I don’t see why they shouldn’t be allowed to marry.

What utter nonsense! Where on earth are the youngsters getting such wickedly inappropriate ideas??!

Xichen, he is your lawfully wedded husband, not some whore you picked up off the side of the road that you can easily gift to another!!

Those were angry careless words, not meant to be taken literally, but Xichen had visibly stiffened, the colour draining from his face.

You’ve bowed before Heaven and Earth, in front of Clan Elders and honoured guests. Even the disciples whisper about you and Wei Wuxian’s …encounter in the Cold Pond. We’ve elected to overlook such an infraction, but now you dare to claim that you two are - are - Who’s going to believe you?!

Perhaps, ponders Lan Zonghui, Gusu Lans are not made for love. Each time love finds one of them, it brings with it equal parts tragedy and despair.

Xichen and Wangi are both demonstrating unprecedented impertinence, qualities Lan Zonghui did not think were part of their characters despite bearing witness to their growth.

Though…this wouldn’t be the first time he misjudged a boy he thought he knew.

Wangji’s fierceness when he pointed the Nie saber at his family and Xichen’s cold nonchalance towards his Elders’ admonishments - it all reminds Zonghui too well of another young Sect Master Lan, twenty something years ago.

“Baiti and I have married. She is my fa'qi*, the woman I will love, cherish and honour for the rest of my life. If anyone in this sect seeks to harm her in any way, they will have to go through me first!”

Lan Cenrong had stood in this very hall, holding the hand of his bride, a woman of immeasurable depth and lethality. Bichen clutched in one hand, she had no explanation to offer in response to the Elders’ outrage. Her face was sculpted in stone, and her eyes as cold as ice. The only detail that gave her away was the fingers she laced tightly between her husband’s, anchoring him to her side.

Why do you stay?

Once, Lan Zonghui had gone to confront her after the birth of Lan Xichen, supposedly premature but suspiciously well formed and strong.

Can’t you see you’ve won?! No one in this sect would draw their sword against you now. You’ve murdered one of our own and yet there is nothing we can do in retaliation! Do you really hate Cenrong so much that you would continue to torture him with your existence?! You can leave, we can arrange for you to disappear. You can be free. Just leave Cloud Recesses and return us our peace!

Qiu Baiti was perhaps the most unflappable person he’s ever come across.

Lan Zonghui, isn’t it? Brave, coming here by yourself.

Rising from her seat, she sauntered slowly towards him. The fingers of her left hand flexed, each knuckle cracking threateningly. She was a beast, and jingshi was her self-chosen cage. Zonghui was not stupid enough to think it could contain her. Even with Bichen confiscated, Qiu Baiti was deadly and terrifying enough for him to take half a step back.

Leave Cloud Recesses you say? Why would I do that? My husband is here, my son is here. This is my home. You don’t know me, and you don’t know Cenrong half as well as you think. Now leave, you’re in my house, and you’re starting to irritate me.

After that, the only people other than her children and husband who dared to visit her were Cangse Sanren and a small group of female disciples who took care of her living.

Truth be told, it was a relief for their sect when Qiu Baiti died young.

Lan Zonghui refuses to believe even to this day that the murderess felt anything close to genuine affection for the late sect master. Mercifully, her sons were raised mostly without her corruption, though Cenrong had all but ordered Qiren to take them to see her at least once a month. If only the boys knew what kind of a woman she really was. In their minds, she was a gentle, kind soul, but nothing could possibly be further from the truth. Sometimes it frightens the Elders to think that her blood flows in their veins.

On that front, Lan Zonghui must commend Lan Qiren. As uncle, guardian and deputy sect master before Xichen came of age, Lan Qiren had done all he can to curb the influence of the pair of wayward parents on Xichen and Wangji’s young impressionable minds. Nonetheless, here they are, twenty years down the road, caught in an another predicament because of foolish sentiments.    

Wangji has their mother’s eyes, Xichen their mother’s smile, but both of them are without a doubt their father’s sons.  

Lan Zonghui resists the urge pinch his nose bridge. He can feel a migraine coming on.

I really am too old for this.

Given his impropriety, Xichen is barred from attending today’s conference. He’s proven that his priority is no longer aligned with that of his elders or his clan. They already have to deal with Yu Ziyuan’s temper today; they could not fend against one of their one throwing them under the carriage.

“Let’s not mince words,” Yu Ziyuan begins. “You’ve invited us here, surely you’ve given this matter some thought. We Jiangs are reasonable people. We are not here to deny anything or to cause trouble, but let me be understood: if your intention is to xiu'fu, I’m afraid we cannot accept that.”

Yu Ziyuan is a smart woman. If she allows Gusu Lan to ’xiu’ Wei Wuxian then it would be seen to the world as Yunmeng Jiang taking responsibility for this scandal and for Wei Wuxian’s shameful behaviour.

One Lan Elder harrumphs.

“He’s betrayed his marriage and shared carnal pleasures with another, is that not justification enough for divorce? Not to mention his husband is the Sect Master of Gusu Lan. With all due respect, Madam Yu, the scandal Wei Wuxian has brought to the Lan family is also unacceptable to us.”

Indignant, a Jiang Elder counters heatedly, “Yes, you are in fact correct. To lie with another when one’s spouse is present is against principles of any good man, but as the old saying goes, you cannot clap with one hand. Gusu’s Lan-er-gongzi, Sect Master Lan’s own little brother, is a willing and equal participant, is he not? So why then must Wei Wuxian bear the entirety of the blame?”

“Well, Wangji must’ve been seduced!”

“Does the esteemed Hanguang-jun lack so much sense, self-control, and respect for Zewu-jun that he could be so easily seduced by his own brother in law?! Perhaps he is not befitting his title after all?”

To that the Lan Elders have nothing further to say. They grumble amongst themselves but could not deny the point the Jiangs have raised.

Lan Zonghui glances towards Lan Qiren and sees him meet Yu Ziyuan’s sharp gaze across the room. They both know very well that these arguments are pointless. Both families wish for the same thing: to save as much face as possible and to emerge from this storm with their dignity relatively in tact.

To say their predicament is difficult would be an understatement. If Gusu Lan succeeds in pushing for a divorce, then all of Yunmeng Jiang would be implicated by Wei Wuxian’s disgrace. However, if Gusu Lan continues to retain Wei Wuxian as husband of their Sect Master, they would be ridiculed by the cultivation world, and Lan Xichen a cuckhold fool.

Somebody has to bear the blame, and the verdict needs to be dealt fairly without prejudice nor bias.

Lan Qiren turns his gaze to the tea leaves in his cup. Yu Ziyuan mirrors his action.

Lan Zonghui sighs. There is only one way out. They know it, and so does he.

After the grumbles of discontent settle down, Madam Yu speaks again, this time more diplomatically. “It is not our intention to put our noses where it doesn’t belong, but the dissolution of this marriage cannot be solely on the accounts of Wei Wuxian’s adultery since the other party involved is Gusu’s own Hanguang-jun.

"Given that Wei Wuxian has married into Lan family, he is one of you. What you do with him, is up to his husband and the Elders. As long as he remains Zewu-jun’s legal spouse, with his name recorded in your pedigrees and an honoured spot allotted for him in your catacombs, we Yunmeng Jiangs shall not interfere with your internal business.

"True, he was our disciple and raised at my side. As his maternal presence, I admit I was lacking, but perhaps the Lan Sect can also reflect on some of your own shortcomings. I trust, Lan-xiansheng,” she addresses Lan Qiren directly, “that you and the Elders will give both of our families a satisfactory response.”

Lan Zonghui shares a genuine look of surprise with Lan Qiren. Surely she is not implying…?

Of course, the Elders had discussed that particular solution amongst themselves, seeing that it is the best method to save both sides, but they did not think the Jiangs would actually agree to it, especially given how close Wei Wuxian is with the ruling family. Though… perhaps Jiang Fengmian’s absence is already a telltale sign. Not to mention if the rumours of Cangse Sanren and Sect Master Jiang are true, then Yu Ziyuan would have her own personal reasons for wishing to deal with this issue properly. 

“I hope, Elders, that we understand each other.” Madam Yu frowns, her patience wearing thin. “Our clans have enjoyed generations of friendship, and a bigger trial is waiting for us in Lanling. That is more important to the stability and safety of our people than any romantic sentiments.”

The reminder of Lanling awakens all parties present from their narrow point of view. Jin Guangshan’s secret gathering of the Yin Iron is undeniable. The evidence stacks against him and his ousting is nigh. Even his own son and heir has turned against him. Lan Zonghui has no doubt that Jin Zixuan’s change of heart has been largely thanks to the influence and persuasion of his wife, whose mother sits before them now. The women of Lotus Pier are not to be underestimated.  

“Madam Yu,” Lan Qiren raises his cup of tea in a respectful toast. “We understand and thank you for your sensibility. If you are certain, then we have no objections.”

Yu Ziyuan’s resolve does not waver. “I am, so let us discuss the details.”  

~~~

The verdict comes at dusk.

Yinzhu, Madam Yu's handmaid and bodyguard, bows to Jiang Yanli, "Da-xiao'jie, Wei-gongzi's presence is requested."

Over at jingshi, a senior Lan disciple does the same. "Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun's presence is requested."

.

"Not to worry, A-Xian, we will go together."

"I shall go with you, Wangji."

.

"Da-xiao'jie -"

"Zewu-jun-"

.

"- the Elders request that he goes alone."

~~~

When Wei Wuxian arrives at the Lan family's sacred ancestral hall, Lan Wangji is already there, kneeling alone before the altar, flanked by Gusu and Yunmeng's elders and their stern and silent gaze. He braves it without any signs of distress. His back is straight, his posture unbent and his spirit unbroken. Like him, Lan Zhan is dressed down in a plain white robe, with no guan to hold up his hair, only a bare strip of white cloth.

To see him relatively well, Wei Wuxian releases the anxious breath he's been holding high in his chest. The last thing he remembers is passing out in Lan Zhan's arms in front of Songfeng Shuiyue. They were beating Lan Zhan with the whip…they were… And then Zewu-jun had arrived.

Of course Lan Zhan is fine. He is Hanguang-jun, Gusu's Second Jade, the second ranking cultivator of our generation. Lan Zhan is fine… he's fine…

Shijie tells him it's been seven days. Has it really? He wonders. Only just? Why does it feel like a century has passed?

Eyes turn on him as he makes his first step into the abbey, and he's never more thankful for the potion the healers fed him pre-emptively than at that moment. He knows he must look a sight, as much as shijie has tried to clean him and make him proper. It could be so much worse; at least he is walking independently instead of being hoisted by disciples. The mixture of milk of poppy, willow bark extract, and cannabis dulls the fire burning along his back just enough for it to be bearable.

Shijie is none too unhappy that he has to trek all the way to the ancestral hall by himself, but Wei Wuxian is not so bothered. When one decides to bed one's husband's brother, it is only natural that one must prepare for the possibility that one's ass is going to get flayed. The situation as it is, his affair is known by all and his reputation is in tatters. Once, he had boasted to Xue Yang that if he, Wei Wuxian, is the second most shameless person in the cultivation world, then nobody would dare to be first.

It is truthfully a bit of an exaggeration, for he had been a beloved ward of Jiang Fengmian, Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, the son of Cangse Sanren, and the fourth ranking cultivator of his generation.

Now… now he's just a problem. Even His mother would be ashamed.

Wei Wuxian stumbles, and the sound of his shuffling steps has Lan Wangji whipping around, eyes growing wide at the sight of him.

Do I really look so awful?

"Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan pushes to his feet but a single pulse of spiritual energy from an elder strikes him in the leg and forces him back onto his knees again. His porcelain mask crumbles and the raw pain underneath bleeds through.

A tinge of red seeps through the white of his robes, like a plum flower blooming amidst snow.

Wei Wuxian is suddenly acutely aware of the waning of Lan Zhan's cheeks and the pallor of his skin. Lan Zhan seems subdued somehow, almost as if… he's still confined by spiritual locks.

Without his cultivation, his wounds won't heal.

Worry lances Wei Wuxian in the chest, hot and sudden. Beneath his breast-bone, his physical heart aches within its cage. Struggling another three steps, he falls gracelessly onto his knees. His breath shakes, beads of cold sweat breaking across his temple and clinging to his hairline. The potion's numbness is starting to wear off, and the wave of pain rising inside him is almost enough to topple him to the ground. Still, he holds on, squeezing his eyes shut and gathers his breath. He knows he must appear pathetic like this, half wasted before the Lan and Jiang Elders, Uncle, Madam Yu, and all of Gusu Lan's ancestors. No amount his usual shield of devil-may-care attitude could protect him now from his own sense of embarrassment.

"Wei Ying." Someone whispers his name. A firm grip finds his elbow, pulling him up.

Lan Zhan has shifted closer, so close in fact their thighs are almost touching. Cool, gentle fingers caress his face. He seeks Lan Zhan's hand out of need and desperation.

Inexplicably, the elders allow this. It doesn't bode well. Rather than perceiving it as leniency, Wei Wuxian is seized with dread.

Kindness is something one only shows to a prisoner when they are sentenced to die.

~~~

Lan Wangji is terrified.

The fact that the elders of Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang are able to deliberate and come to a consensus within half a day, that Yu Ziyuan and Lan Qiren can peacefully tolerate each other's presence without devolving into a shouting match, that neither xiongzhang nor Jin-xiao-fu'ren are permitted to attend is the reason for his frightful premonition.

There are candles and oil lamps lit all along the hall, illuminating the tomb plaques stacked neatly one row above the next up the wall of names.

With a nod from Madam Yu, Uncle rises from his seat and approaches him and Wei Ying. His expression is sullen and sad.

"Wangji, Wuxian. The Elders have discussed at length. Initially we had considered xiu'fu to be the most direct solution, but the Yunmeng Jiang Sect has made it clear a divorce is not acceptable. After some convincing, the Gusu Lan Sect concedes. Despite the rumours and the gossips, we recognize that you are both equal participants in this affair. Neither one is more guilty than the other…and in any case, Xichen himself is not the least bit bothered by any of this. The dissolution of your marriage, Wuxian, is not why we've summoned you both here today before our family's ancestors."

With a permissive gesture, Uncle beckons a Lan healer to enter the hall.

Lan Wangji's blood grows cold as the healer stops before him and Wei Ying, bows once, hands a tray to Lan Qiren containing two identical jade cups filled with clear liquids, and shuffles out without glancing once at either of them.

He hears Wei Ying inhale sharply, the fingers laced between his own squeeze impossibly harder.

So this is what it shall be.

Two cups of poisons to end the scandal, to wash them of their sins, and to restore honour to its rightful place.

Lan Wangji looks to the man he loves with his entire being and finds Wei Ying's equally panicked eyes staring back at him.

This can't be real.

"Shufu -" Lan Wangji inches forward on his knees. Wei Ying has already taken three hundred and one lashes for him and nearly lost his life in process. He's never owed Lan Wangji anything, and even if he did, surely the debt's been paid in full and then some. He doesn't deserve this. "Shufu - shufu, forgive Wei Ying! This is my fault - "

Lan Wangji is the instigator. Since that first night at the wedding banquet, he's lost control of himself. Wei Ying had annoyed him, yes, but only a little. Even since day one, Lan Wangji was able to recognize that Wei Wuxian from Lotus Pier had wit, spontaneity, and heart. His talents with a sword impressed even those that disliked him, and he wielded it with a sense of right and wrong that was fluid and innate, and had nothing to do with the rigid precepts carved in stone.

Lan Wangji fell without realizing, without warning, slow and sudden all at once.

He envied Lan Xichen who had all of Wei Ying but didn't know it, didn't treasure it. He envied Jiang Wanyin who held Wei Wuxian's sworn loyalty as brother, as family. He envied Jiang Yanli, who could draw the light to Wei Ying's eyes with a simple well-wishing letter and a smile from his lips that was warmer than the hearth in a winter storm, than the sunrise on a summer day.

He envied them because they had so much of Wei Ying and he had so little and wanted more than his should, but now he has everything…

…and what a price his desires demand.

"Shufu - Madam Yu -" Lan Wangji turns to the matriarch of Yunmeng Jiang and knocks his forehead to the ground. "Please believe me, this is entirely Wangji's doing. Wei Ying is innocent! If anyone is guilty, it is Wangji!"

"No! Lies!" Wei Ying protests, pushing Lan Wangji out of the way to say, "Don't listen to him, it's my fault- I -"

"That's enough." Lan Zonghui interrupts the youngsters' tirade, always the cold voice of reason. "Perhaps you should allow your uncle to finish."

Lan Qiren grimaces, as though he can't make himself continue. Tightening his grip on the tray, and he says, "This transgression goes beyond the breaking of vows or the marriage of two individuals. The dignity of two great sects are at jeopardy. Since you are the ones who started it, you must be the ones to finish it. You must've known the consequences of your sins when you both chose this insane course of action, so now we ask nothing but that you find the decency and courage to face them. Neither Gusu Lan nor Yunmeng Jiang are the deciders of your fates. As you are both equally at fault, to blame one over the other would be unjust. Therefore," He presents them with the cups.

"Only one is laced with poison. Which one you choose to drink is entirely up to you."

Lan Wangji's head is light, and he barely thinks before he asks out right, "Why not both?"

Lan Zonghui tilts his head curiously. "Do you really think you deserve to die together?"

Of course not. That would be too kind.

Wei Ying closes his eyes as tears fall.

"What do you intend to do with the other?" asks Lan Wangji, glaring up at Lan Zonghui mutinously. 

"Seclusion, to repent for your sins -"

"Wei Ying!"

Lightning fast, Wei Wuxian has already swallowed the content of the cup closest to him and is reaching for the second cup.

It did occur to Lan Wangji earlier that if he moves quickly enough, he can grab both and drink both, but while he wrangled with how to best execute his plan, Wei Wuxian is already in motion.

Lan Wangji shouts something incoherent as the others in the room gasp. His powers may be sealed, but Wei Wuxian is carrying the wound of three hundred lashes. Even now, they are evenly matched. Lan Wangji knocks his hand out of the way at the very last second, stealing the second cup right out from under his reach and downs it in one go.

The drink tastes like nothing. Like water.

No…

He stares at the cup in his hand then up at Wei Ying, assuming the worst, but Wei Wuxian is staring back at him with equal terror, seemingly not in any kind of danger. He must've tasted water too.

Was it… was it a test?

Lan Wangji dares to hope. He looks to his uncle, "shuf-", but then he feels it.

It's not pain, but he feels it, crawling up from his belly and overtaking him inch by inch. He lurches forward, falling onto his palms, the jade cup clattering to the ground.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying collects him in his arms and shakes him furiously. "Lan Zhan!! Stop fooling around! You can't die, they're not going to let you die, I'm not going to let you die, so - stop it! Stop messing with me!! Stop pretending - Lan Zh- Lan Wangji if you die now I will never forgive you!!"

Lan Wangji tries to say something, but he can't. Death is heavy, like a woolen shroud coiling tighter and tighter around his body. He has already lost sensation of his limbs, and even his vision is starting to blur. Whatever the poison is, it works fast. 

Wei Ying is full on sobbing now, all pretenses of composure gone.

Wei Ying… I couldn't protect you when I should have.

He wishes he could speak these words aloud, or to touch that lovely face one more time, but he is relieved nevertheless that fate chose him. It is the intolerance of their world that demands one of their lives, but Lan Wangji finds he cannot regret his actions despite his life coming to an end. To have met Wei Ying is a gift, to have loved him is a blessing, and to die for him now is an honour. Even when he's gone, he knows Wei Ying will be taken care of; xiong'zhang would ensure that much even if he is powerless to stop the will of the Elders.

It should shock Lan Wangji how quickly he's made his peace with death, but it doesn't.

Wei Ying's cries drown out his senses, and he wishes again that he could somehow comfort him. Of all the things that has happened since Su She discovered them in the back mountains, his own demise is one which he willingly accepts. Above all else, he refuses to go with a broken heart, because then it would all have been for naught.

Lan Wangji smiles. To spend his last moment on this earth in Wei Ying's arms is indeed not so bad.

~~~

Wei Wuxian feels it the second Lan Zhan grows still in his arms. Eyes closed, a smile lingers on his peerless face.

"L-Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan!! Lan Zhan!!"

He's still warm, pliant. Soon, soon he won't be. No, no Wei Wuxian refuses to let this be the end. It just can't.

Still holding onto Lan Zhan, he lunges forward and grasps onto Lan Zonghui's robe hem beseechingly. "Elder, elder please help him!" But Zonghui shakes him off.

Wei Wuxian glances frantically back and forth at the stone faces around him, desperation and despair brewing into hysteria. Then, he finds it, the one pair of eyes not glaring at him in cold condemnation but pity. 

Gently setting Lan Zhan on the ground, Wei Wuxian tries to get up, but his body won't obey. The back of his thin white robe is already soaked through, the vigor of his earlier movement having undone all of the healers' work. Too far gone to care now, Wei Wuxian crawls forward on his elbows and knees until he reaches Yu Ziyuan.

"Yu-fu'ren, please, please I’m begging you, give Lan Zhan the antidote! There has to be an antidote, right?! There's still a chance - I'll die - I can die right now if you want me to! But save Lan Zhan, save him please! He is Gusu's Lan-er-gongzi, Gusu's Second Jade, my husband's little brother! I've already ruined my marriage, my reputation, my standing amongst the cultivators! Zewu-jun is kind and magnanimous, but even he won't want me now, especially if Lan Zhan is dead because of me! What is the point of letting me live?!! There is no future for me anywhere, but there is still a future for Lan Zhan! Yu-fu'ren - no - shimu, shimu please, A-Xian has never begged you for anything in this life, please, if for nothing else than the fact I have been raised under you wings, help me save Lan Zhan, please…"

Madam Yu slowly bends down, hooking her index finger under Wei Wuxian's chin and lifts it up. "You would die for Lan Wangji?"

His face blotchy and snotty from sobbing, Wei Wuxian hiccups. "I - I would. Right now if you wish it."

There's a beat. 

"Wangji isn't dead."

It is Lan Qiren that speaks. Yu Ziyuan releases him. Wei Wuxian twists around to see Uncle's hand pressed against Lan Wangji's left carotid. "Just out cold. You'd know if you thought to check instead of letting appearances fool you."

Disbelieving, Wei Wuxian struggles back to Lan Zhan's side to verify for himself. With trembling hands, he turns Lan Zhan over and gathers him in his arms. Though he knows there is nothing to fear, he still can't help pressing two digits to Lan Zhan's neck, checking to make sure the precious pulse is still there. Sure enough, Lan Zhan's heartbeat is strong and his breathing deep and unlaboured.

Alive.

Wei Wuxian blinks, reeling from the mental whiplash of the sudden revelation, but the steady thrumming beneath his fingertips coupled with comforting sight of those warm, flushed cheeks give him the courage he needs to face what is to come.

Lan Zonghui steps up to him and says, "You said so yourself. There is no future for you. Now you understand now why it always has to be you." From his qiankun sleeve, he retrieves a small porcelain bottle.

The real poison. Wei Wuxian realizes, sagging in relief. The irony of his emotions is not lost on him.

"What did you actually give us?"

"A strong anesthetic."

"Then… how come I'm not affected."

"The antidote to the anesthetic was laced into your pain medicine, which the healers gave you before you were summoned," Lan Qiren explains.

Sleeping…he's just sleeping. Thank god, oh thank god.

Lan Zhan is alive. He's going to be fine. But…Wei Wuxian grows worried again, imagining how Lan Zhan will react to his death once he comes to. 

"What will you tell him? When he wakes up, he's going to realize you've tricked him." Lan Wangji can be the most stubborn when he's fixated on a goal. There's no telling what he would do. "You have to… you have to protect him from himself."

"He won't know. We will tell him that one cup had the poison and the other an anesthetic. The poison is slow acting while the anesthetic is fast."

"He will question it. Why the anesthetic? Why the smoke and mirrors?"

Lan Zonghui looks from him to the boy lying unconscious cradled against him. "Does he really want to be awake to watch his lover die in his arms as you just assumed you did? We will tell him it's mercy, so that the remaining party won't have to watch the process happen. He will be allowed to say goodbye to you at the sect funeral. We will grant him that."

"Sect funeral?" Echoes Wei Wuxian, surprised. "You… Gusu Lan Sect would bury me with honour? Even after…"

"That is the compromise." It is a Jiang Elder - Jiang Liliang, Wei Wuxian believes -  who explains to him. "The Lans will recognize you as one of their own. No ceremony will be spared. In death, you will be given all honours and decorum befitting the husband of Sect Master Lan. The action of an individual should not affect the relationship of two clans. This is a stance the elders of both our families unanimously share."

Wei Wuxian nods, understanding, finally calm after all that crying.

"I'm still worried about Lan Zhan. You must swear to -"

"Wangji will be under guard at all times until the funeral, after which he will be sent to sealed seclusion for three years. He won't have access to his powers or means to harm himself. Time dulls all pain. So too will Wangji's. Someday, you will just be a mistake of his youth." 

A mistake of his youth…

Indeed.

Lan Zonghui picks up the cup Wei Wuxian discarded on the ground and pours the content of the vial into it.

Wei Wuxian wonders what they've prepared for him. 

"Do you have any more questions?" Lan Qiren asks him, somber but not unkind. 

"None."

"Requests?"

Requests? Ah yes. Last rites. At least they let him have that, and if he may, there is in fact something he'd like to do.

"One."

"You may name it."

"Turn around."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'd like to kiss Lan Zhan. One last time. So unless you'd rather watch me do it, turn around."

"Look around you, you insolent scoundrel!" One Lan Elder whose name he can't recall cries out in anger. "You're in the ancestral hall, Wei Wuxian! How dare you?!"

But Wei Wuxian hugs Lan Wangji close and swallows his pride. For what seems like the thousandth time since he arrived, he begs, not for himself, but for Lan Zhan. 

"Please."

He expects that even after his death, he will be the smear in Hanguang-jun's otherwise pristine history, but he doesn't want to be just that, not completely. This, he will leave with Lan Zhan. Even if only one kiss out of their thousands is sanctioned, it will still be better than nothing.

One kiss, just one.

Perhaps they understood him, for Lan Qiren and Yu Ziyuan turn away without further protest, and Lan Zonghui too. Grumbling, the rest of the elders follow suit, displeased and somewhat disgusted by his shamelessness, but Wei Wuxian is due to die any second now, so they allow him this one offense.

"Sleep well, Lan-er-gege, I've gotta go now," he whispers for no one to hear.

Their last kiss is slow, chaste, and Wei Wuxian prays.

Lan Zhan, for yourself sake, I hope you can slowly feel less for me. I would hate to know you spent the rest of your very long life sad. But maybe...don't forget me completely? How does that sound? Or else I'd be a very sad ghost…

Lan Zhan... next life, let's not be brothers-in-law, hm? If you want, I'll wait for you, however long it takes I'll wait. When we meet again, I hope it's still at night. I never did tell you how beautiful you were under the moon.

I promised I would never leave you, so I won't. You have me, as long as you want, you'll have me. As long as you want me with you, I am not gone.

Wei Wuxian says none of these things out loud, but the soft expression on his face as he smiles down at Lan Zhan must've spoken volumes. This is a man close to death, and yet his smile is kind, soft, and sincere.

Lan Qiren makes a low cough in the back of his throat, telling him time is up.

Wei Wuxian presses his lips one last time to Lan Zhan's forehead, and lets him go.

"I'm ready."

The healers on standby transport Lan Wangji's body to the infirmary as Lan Zonghui approaches him with the solution to this disaster.

Wei Wuxian knows that as long as he dies, all of this can end. A decision unanimously agreed upon by Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, to all those who hear of his story, his death will not be an unfair sentence. There is no bias. No undeserved blame. It is...it is Wei Ying's lot in life to be the one chosen by fate to die. The gods must've seen that Lan Wangji is good and worthy of redemption. As long as he dies, faith and righteousness will be satisfied.

"What is it?" He asks Elder Zonghui curiously. 鹤顶红? Crane's crimson crown? Probably. That's the fastest and the most likely.

"天子泪."

Emperor's Tears. Wei Wuxian almost laughs. Of course, of course it is.

"It tastes like Emperor's Smile, but it is not. It is a gentle poison and will take some time to take its effect."

It's funny, Wei Wuxian muses as the jade cup is presented to him, how such a lovely thing is to be the instrument that ends his life. He accepts it with both hands, obediently, and brings it close to his lips. The familiar aroma of the alcohol makes him smile.

Wei Wuxian takes his last drink with the same vigour as he took his first. Eyes closed, savouring every drop. Then, clasping his hands before his chest, he draws all the energy in his body and rights himself onto his knees, facing the altar.

"I, Wei Wuxian of Gusu Lan, repent before the forefathers. May you forgive my transgressions and release me from my mortal sins."

And protect Lan Zhan. He prays. For I will no longer be able to do it.

He bows thrice, properly, his forehead meeting the marbled ground with a dull thud each time.

Briefly, he wonders if there are Gusu Lan forefathers with a sense of humour. For all this to play out in front of them, surely the less uptight ancestors must have been thoroughly entertained by the dramatics of it all. Death, he imagines, would get boring after a while. In any case, he'll find out soon for himself.

"I'd like to spend my last moments alone."

Lan Zonghui looks to Yu Ziyuan and then to Lan Qiren. An unspoken agreement passes between them. One after another, elders of the Lan and Jiang clan vacate the ancestral hall. The heavy doors grind against the hinges, eliciting a low somber moan as it is pulled shut, leaving Wei Wuxian kneeling amongst the candlelight.

The slow poison is not so slow. Maybe in his reduced state, its effect is amplified, for soon after he is left to himself the air in his lungs begins to burn. A gush of blood surges up his throat and fills his mouth.

If he's honest…okay, he's a little scared. Just a tad.

Hey demons, it's me, your boy. Eighteenth level of hell here I come…

In his last conscious moments, his thoughts linger on the sweet tang of Gusu's Emperor's Tears, and on Lan Zhan that very first night standing alone under the eave, away from the wedding festivities, an ethereal figure basked in the moonlight. Death is a force pulling Wei Wuxian down, and he collapses under the weight of it, right there in front of the altar.

The world is dark before he even hits the ground.

He does not feel the clash of Shuoyue's energy against the entrance, blasting open the doors, but he does perhaps hear the faint voice of his sister calling his name.

A-XIAN

Dusk falls, night arrives, and Wei Wuxian is gone.

Chapter Text

On the ninth day of the ninth month, exactly a year and a day since Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan allied themselves through a marriage of mutual convenience, Cloud Recesses announces Wei Wuxian's passing.

The bright happy young man who stepped across the threshold of this ancient manor a groom of Lan Xichen, has died a lover of Lan Wangji. 

Donning in mourning robes of coarse white hemp and black silk, the Sect Master of Gusu Lan stands under the eave of Hanshi, hiding from the sun.

It was sunny the day of his wedding too.

Lan Xichen sighs, taking in the sight of the white and black drapes adorning the pillars and archways and tries to re-imagine them in red, as it had been the day he and Wuxian were wed, and wonders where exactly it all went wrong.

12 months ago, 8th of September

As a general rule, Cloud Recesses doesn’t enjoy weddings. 

Weddings are loud, rowdy, crowded, filled with alcohol and red. Everything that Cloud Recesses is not. Since his father’s unorthodox marriage, the last grand wedding was during his grandparents’ time, and obviously, way before Lan Xichen was even a thought in his parents’ mind. 

Still he has to admit, despite some of their more-than-mild panics early on in the planning process, the day has gone by without a glitch. Now, with the hours edging dangerously close to xu-shi and most of their esteemed guests three sheets to the wind (courtesy of Yunmeng’s seemingly endless supply of liquor which Uncle and the Elders gave special dispensation for on this one occasion), it is time for him and his groom to retreat to their private suite for… some much deserved alone time. 

It is practically an open secret at Cloud Recesses that the First Jade knows exactly how to walk the crevices between the three thousand rules carved in stone. Compared to his little brother, he is much more amenable to the human experience. The more daring disciples would even go so far as to whisper amongst themselves that Sect Masters Nie and Lan had been intimately close during their youth, before they matured into their responsibilities and decided to frame their relationship within the simple lines of sworn brotherhood. 

There is nothing awkward about growing up; Lan Xichen is comforted to know. Across the banquet hall, Nie Mingjue gives him a look full of meaning. 

Go on, you know what’s coming next. 

If there were ever a person more excited about Lan Xichen getting hitched than all of Cloud Recesses' closet-romantics, it is his Da-ge. 

Don’t drink too much, you still have to show xiao-Wei a good time. 

Da-ge, can you not -

The bastard has the audacity to smirk. 

But…looking around the room, Lan Xichen realizes through his alcohol-induced haze (just wee bit of drink, it’s okay) that his new husband is nowhere to be seen. 

Five minutes and a round of searching later, he finds out why. 

Out in courtyard where the festivities of the banquet has faded into the background of a calm autumn night, Wei Wuxian is leaning against the railing of the pavilion. From where he stands, Lan Xichen can hear his easy laughter. 

His dark doe eyes wane into crescents, and his cheeks are colored a pretty pink from alcohol and mirth. Undoubtedly, Wei Wuxian is a beautiful young man, and if Lan Xichen is honest with himself, there is a healthy dose desire coiling deep in his belly at the sight of him. 

But then…his gaze drifts to the other side of the railing, where a figure in white and blue stands bathed in the moonlight. 

Oh?

Lan Xichen blinks. 

To another person, Lan Wangji does not appear any different than his usual self. If pressed, they would say he looks a tad annoyed. But Lan Xichen is not just another person. To him, his brother’s face is open, guilelessly and uncertain. His eyes are widened incrementally and his lips barely parted. 

Wangji’s gaze is fixed upon the young man next to him - his new brother-in-law - who has his head thrown back laughing at whatever words they exchanged prior to Lan Xichen’s arrival. 

Oh…

Wei Ying, Xichen reads the words from Wangji’s lips. The sidepiece of your guan is eschew. 

Wei Ying. Lan Xichen feels his own breath catch. Not xiong'fu, not Wei Wuxian, not even Wuxian or A-Xian. Wei Ying. They've barely met and his little brother, his reticent, taciturn - some would even say disagreeable - little brother is already calling his new brother-in-law Wei Ying.

The Lan Xichen of a year from now will think back on this moment and conclude that perhaps it has been wrong from the beginning, that this is a marriage destined to failed, that theirs is a love doomed to tragedy. 

Unfortunately, the Lan Xichen of now has no such foresight. 

“Oh shi- where? where?” Wei Wuxian’s response is much louder so it is heard clearly even across the courtyard. He straightens from his slouch, a hand flying up to his hair. “Fix it, fix it for me, won’t you?”

Oh! 

Lan Xichen watches in shock as his little brother reaches up and adjusts the delicate gold surrounding Wei Wuxian’s top knot. 

Wangji, you…

Is Wangji inebriated? Has the party guests somehow been feeding his baby brother alcohol when he's not looking? Surely the Wangji he knows, who hates physical closeness with those he is unfamiliar with cannot possibly be the same person who is gently smoothing Wei Wuxian's hair and pinning his hairpiece back into place.

Wei Wuxian fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, holding still as Wangji adjusts the gold ornament. “I have to go see your brother soon,” he says. “Madam Yu explicitly ordered that everything has to be perfect tonight or else it’s bad luck.” 

At his words, Lan Wangji’s hands pause, the openness of his face retreating instantly behind his mask of cool poise. He lowers his eyes. 

“Xiong’fu, it’s late,” he replies, taking a step back to bow. “I should leave you now. Congratulations again, and…welcome to Cloud Recesses.” 

Before either of them can see, Lan Xichen draws himself behind a pillar. He leans there for a long time, processing all that he has witnessed and the options he is left with. 

Lan Xichen isn't naïve or blind. He knows that his union with Wei Wuxian is no love-match. Since the day he turned 15 years old and learned of his father's quiet passing in secluded meditation, he knew his marriage would not be a matter left to his heart. As head of the family and Sect Master of all of Gusu Lan, his matrimony is bound to be used to make ties with other clans or to reinforce the cohesion of their own sect.

Still, a part of him that bears the heart of a secret romantic dares to hope that his partner in this life would love him, even just a little, and that he would in turn grow to love them back. Meeting Wei Wuxian at Lotus Pier these past months and exchanging letters over the summer have given him optimism about the future the two of them could build together. Wei Wuxian is compassionate, and Lan Xichen himself is tolerant. They could work. He knows they can. 

The problem, when it comes down to it, is simply a matter of numbers. If there were even one eligible unmarried daughter from the ruling branch of any of the four other major sects, it would not be Wei Wuxian bowing before heaven and earth with him today.

But the only noble daughter of their generation with the right age and status is Jiang Yanli, and she is a ship that has long sailed. Never mind that Jiang Yanli was promised to Jin Zixuan before either were out of their cradles, they fell in love of their own volition (a miracle really) right here within the walls of Cloud Recesses three years ago during their guest disciple visit. Today, she is in attendance at the wedding not only as the most beloved sister of one of the grooms, but as Jin-xiao-furen of Lanling.

Jiang Yanli is beautiful and kind, and tactful and charming. Before Jin Zixuan - pardon the very un-Lan expression - pulled his head out of his ass and realized what an amazing woman she was, Uncle definitely had half a mind to ask Xichen to endear himself to her and woo her away from the likes of the Jins.

Alas that was not meant to be.

Xichen is glad, truthfully, that it wasn't. While he's sure that when push comes to shove, he would have agreed to a marriage with a lady, he would much prefer his life partner to be a man. Such a preference is nothing to hide or be ashamed of in Gusu, unlike in the regions under other sects' jurisdiction. For all of Jin Guangshan's philandering ways, he is surprisingly (or unsurprisingly) narrow-minded.

Well… of course there is Wen Qing, Sect Master Wen's only daughter and so hailed the best physician of all of Qishan. However, Qishan Wen has long been a private people, and Wen Qing herself has scarcely left Nevernight. In fact, of the cultivators that Lan Xichen is acquainted with, only the Nie brothers have ever met Wen Qing past the age of twelve. Qinghe and Qishan are closely situated geographically and has enjoyed generations of friendship, ever since Wen healers began tending to the Nies and their unfortunate habit of qi deviation and early death. 

So if not a major clan, then Lan Xichen would have to marry a minor clan member, a very distant Lan cousin or an outer Lan disciple if he wants a female partner. Though, what political advantage would that contribute to Gusu? Under these circumstances, the Elders agreed that a husband for Lan Xichen would be just as good as long as he is a strong cultivator and comes from a reputable clan. Geographically speaking, Yunmeng and Gusu are adjacent, so it’s much more advantageous to be allies with the clan right beside them. Wei Wuxian fits all of Gusu Lan's hard criteria, except his rambunctious personality. Before the union was finalized, Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian had been allowed to meet and converse to get to know each other. The Elders trusts Lan Xichen's judge of character, and if Lan Xichen likes Wei Wuxian, then they are willing to overlook the boy's un-Lan spirit. For his nephew and his sect, Uncle will just have to contend with welcoming the male incarnate of Cangse Sanren into his home.

As for heirs, that's a topic for another day. On that front, Gusu is rather unconcerned, seeing that they still have the Second Jade to carry the burden of producing offsprings.

Well… if the way Wangji was staring at Wei Wuxian is anything to judge by, the Elders and Uncle are going to be sorely disappointed.

Of all the problems Lan Xichen could have possible dreamed up prior to today, never in his wildest dreams did he think "my brother might fall for my husband" would be one of them.

Now…now he doesn't know what to do, which is perhaps the most hilarious part of this situation.

When they were young, Lan Xichen was always the one showered with gifts and presents by delegates of the other sects, what with his being the Lan heir and all. And Wangji… well, Wangji always got - what did the disciples call it, ah yes - first dips on all of Lan Xichen’s goods. One, because Lan Xichen loves his little brother more than life itself, but also because Wangji knows exactly how to use that baby pout the older Lan could never say no to. 

Lan Wangji eventually grew out of this habit once they hit double digits, and he definitely loves and respects his older brother too much to attempt anything untoward with his brother in law. That much, Xichen is certain. Still, it doesn't help that he feels the reflexive need to push the plate of pastries - a once in a blue moon treat for children of Cloud Recesses - across the table so little Wangji can have it first. It is a residual instinct left from his childhood days, and he simply can’t help it.  

Except…the pastry isn't actually pastry but an attractive young man named Wei Wuxian. 

Lan Xichen is now acutely regretting not bringing Wangji along on one of his trips to Lotus Pier. If they had met earlier…

An alliance is an alliance, it doesn't have to be Xichen; it can easily be Wangji marrying Wei Wuxian, that is, if Xichen and Wei Wuxian haven't already promised each other forever in front family, friends and heaven and earth, if they haven't thrown this huge, loud, red ceremony for everyone in their realm to bear witness, if Wei Wuxian isn't already his lawfully wedded husband.

The logical part of him is shrugging his shoulders and saying, well… Wangji is still young, he'll meet someone else. This is just an infatuation, a fascination. He'll get over it soon. Wei Wuxian is dazzling and beautiful tonight, but that's probably just the "newly wed" glow every groom has. Give it a month - nay, a week - and surely any "interest" Wangji may or may not have had tonight under the possible influence of alcohol he definitely had no business drinking (his little brother is a terrible light weight) would fizzle out and be extinguished by his daily exposure to Wei Wuxian's…well… Wei Wuxian-ness.   

At nineteen years old, Lan Wangji has yet to show interest in anyone in any way. His bland disregard for anything of a romantic or physical nature has caused Xichen to ponder on more than one occasion if indeed Wangji is simply not interested at all. He wouldn't be the first Lan to identify this way and certainly wouldn't be the last.

But even if Wangji is not entirely disinterested, surely Wei Wuxian the male incarnate of Cangse Sanren from Lotus Pier wouldn't be the type he likes. Surely not. Surely, the gods aren't so cruel and ill-humoured as to make the object of his little brother's hard-won affection be his brother-in-law.

Lan Xichen rubs his eyes, suddenly exhausted. He can't wait to escape back to the quiet privacy of hanshi, wash himself of the day's festivities and sleep -

Fuck.

The curse is clear and resonant in his mind. He'll have to kneel and reflect on that later, but while he's at it, it's probably better to let it all out at once.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

An indefinite amount of mental fucks later, Lan Xichen gathers himself together and forces himself to think about the young man waiting for him and the acts expected of them, acts which yesterday would've still been considered scandalous but now are entirely sanctioned by god and man. 

How on earth is he supposed to do that when he's seen the absolute besotted softness in Wangji's eyes, as if the moon and stars have all dimmed in comparison to Wei Wuxian's smile. What mystic powers does the boy possess to have utterly charmed Wangji so? And why Wangji of all people?

No, no that's not it. Lan Xichen realizes. He's seen Wei Wuxian in his natural habitat at Lotus Pier. He's like that with everyone: gregarious, flirtatious and utterly oblivious to the effect he has on people. Perhaps in a couple of months when they've grown intimate and attached to each other, Xichen would feel a sense of jealousy at the blossoming whatever it is between his little brother and his husband, but as of right now, all he can muster up is a sense of horror at the prospect of bedding someone Wangji finds attractive.

Five minutes ago, Wei Wuxian was still a candidate who could stir his interest; now…now he's just an eighteen year old boy. A boy like every other boy Wangji's age, to be mentored and protected and loved.

Ignoring the logical part of his mind, a more intuitive voice tells him to put off the consummation, just to be safe. After all, once you cook the rice, you can't uncook it.

Except…

How is he going to find a reasonable excuse for evading his husbandly duties that won't offend his lovely groom on the first night of their marriage?! And how is he to go on pretending he didn't just see what he saw?!

Putting on his best expression of ignorant bliss, Lan Xichen squares his shoulders and heads towards Hanshi.

~~~

Somehow, he manages it.

Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian do not consummate their union, despite Wei Wuxian's best effort (and what an effort it was).

After a proper kiss, sweet and warm, Lan Xichen pulls back and gets under the blankets, closes his eyes, crosses his hands, and goes to sleep. 

If he spends even one more second being confronted with the sight of Wei Wuxian's tiny waist in his sheer white under-robe, he'll do something he can't take back.

This, muses Lan Xichen in his head. This will certainly be interesting. 

As he drifts off, he vaguely wonders what Nie Mingjue would say about his predicament. 

He can hear his laughter now. 

Fuck.

Chapter Text

It's his smile.

One day, his uncle will ask him why. Why has he betrayed his principles, why has he so easily taken what isn't his.

The answer will be simple. Because I love him, shufu.

When he smiles, I want to smile with him, and when he laughs, everything is better.

Wei Wuxian is laughing now, but not yet with him. Right now, the object of Wei Wuxian's budding affection is his older brother. Dusk falls on Cloud Recesses, basking the quiet sanctuary in gold and pink. Wei Wuxian walks in front of him, arm-in-arm with his new husband.

They're returning from supper, and the location of both Jingshi and Hanshi are such that the three of them share a part of the stroll back together. In the past, he and his brother used to walk side by side, utilizing this time to chat quietly amongst themselves. But with Wei Wuxian's addition in Lan Xichen's life, now it seems rather odd to insert himself into their company.

A couple of female disciples approach from the opposite direction, quickly shuffling to the side and bowing respectfully when they see them.

"Zewu-jun, Wei-jun, er-gongzi."

Lan Xichen's focus is on Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji sees the girls staring at the newlyweds' entwined fingers and the innocent giggle they share behind the expanse of their white sleeves.

An unpleasant twist gathers in his belly. Lan Wangji frowns. Married or not, surely walking like this, pressed so close to the person next to you, hands held together, is against at least one of the 3000 rules. Look, because of this blatant disregard for polite distance, now the female disciples are giggling.

The Wei Wuxian after hours is very different than the calm, serious young man who sat in Lanshi yesterday morning and received ceremonial bows from all five hundred inner and outer disciples of Cloud Recesses.

Lan Wangji, as the heir presumptive, was at the front of the disciple procession, in clear view of Wei Wuxian dressed up with a silver guan upon his head and swathed in pale Lan colours.

Gone was the friendly face from the wedding the night before, eyes soft and crescent under the moon, happy and slightly drunk. In his place was the reminder that Wei Wuxian is a known power figure of their generation, elevated by the prestige of Jiang Fengmian's high regard and by his own accomplishments and talents. That he, the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, likes to skirt around the edge of the traditional and push boundaries of the unorthodox is a well known fact. His arrays and talismans are quite the envy amongst cultivators. Though how daring his methods are exactly, only his family knows.

Things might take some getting used to, Wangji, his brother had warned him before the wedding. Wei-gongzi is a lively sort, as I'm sure you've heard, but he has a kind heart, is good-humoured and amicable, and will be a part of our family. I…of course I would hope that you could be friends, but if you don't like him, I will not force the matter. You do not have to talk to him much. Xichen chuckled quietly. Wuxian is more than capable of filling the silence.

Not to worry, xiongzhang, this is a political marriage. I understand.

His brother has been his one confidant since childhood, and he is fiercely protective of the older Lan. Initially, he was wary of this union, but he promised himself that if xiongzhang loves this Wei Wuxian then he will give it his best effort not to antagonize him. At worst, he'll just remain as silent and taciturn as possible. That usually drives away most people he has no desire to acquaint himself with. But Xichen is hopeful for a friendship between his little brother and his new husband, and so for his sake, Lan Wangji is willing to try being friendly.

Which is why when the groom in red approached him at the courtyard pavilion where he'd hid away from the noise and colours overwhelming his senses, he didn't immediately quit his company.

For his brother, Lan Wangji made himself turn to face his brother-in-law with an expression that he hoped was neutral if not an open invitation to converse, and for that he was graced with a smile as wonderfully warm and uncomplicated as the late summer sun.

His instinctual response was undiluted anger. Because truly, nobody in this world has business being that beautiful.

One day his shifu will ask, how did it start? And Lan Wangji will tell him that it started then.

He just didn't know it.

Now, he trails behind Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian as they stroll in the twilight. It's kind of romantic, in a way, but the heaviness in his chest makes him want to turn his nose up at it. This is not Cloud Recesses' way.

"So, how did you find dining in the great hall with the disciples and other clansmen?" Lan Xichen inquires with a smile. "If it's too much, we can take supper in hanshi again, like yesterday."

Wei Wuxian shakes his head and grins. "I like eating with everyone." 

When it's just the three of them, he reverts back to the happy, chatty boy that he is. Lan Wangji frowns when he realizes that he actually likes this version of him better than his serious, rules-complying self that he demonstrated in front of the Elders yesterday.

What is wrong with you, Lan Wangji. He clutches Bichen tighter.

"Back in Lotus Pier, shidi-men(1) and I would always have lunch together out on the dock on a hot day," Wei Wuxian continues on, holding Lan Xichen's arm closer, "Although…if we're in the dinning hall, you and I can't chat over dinner."

Then, as if realizing that not only did he just confess to his own rule-breaking habits but betrayed Lan Xichen's behaviour in private as well, Wei Wuxian pauses, looking over his shoulder to shoot Lan Wangji a sheepish smile.

"Er-di," says Wei Wuxian, scratching at his nose bridge guiltily. "Uncle says you're the chief disciplinary officer. Any chance you can overlook this minor infraction? We're still on our honeymoon."

Lan Wangji frowns. A part of him is somewhat horrified that his brother is breaking sect rules literally from day one of his new married life, but another part of him is simply distracted by Wei Wuxian's sudden mention of "honeymoon".

It almost makes him cringe, but he holds it in.

Of course he knows what being married entails; the disciples of Cloud Recesses are strictly disciplined but they are not naïve. Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian have had their wedding night, and if they're in the throes of sweet blossoming love it's nothing that's not expected. There's no shame in it. After all, they're rightfully and legally married. Yet still, the unpleasant twist in Lan Wangji's belly tightens.

Shameless, he wants to say but finds he can't speak without giving away his obvious ire. Wei Wuxian is clearly already very attached to his brother, and if xiongzhang is happy to indulge him, then for Lan Wangji to interfere now would be somewhat tasteless and out of turn.

Lan Xichen looks between the two younger men and laughs quietly under his breath. "Wuxian is joking Wangji. We can copy lines if you want."

Lan Wangji frowns more, stiff lips pressing together.

"No need. It's late. I shall leave you, xiongzhang, xiongfu. Goodnight." He bows to his brother and his brother-in-law and makes a hasty retreat before the heat he feels crawling up his neck can reach his ears. Jingshi is some distance away. He walks fast.

Behind him, he hears Wei Wuxian softly lamenting "maybe I shouldn't have teased him", and his brother's mirthful response, "Don't fret, Wangji quite likes you. I can tell."

Lan Wangji lets himself pout, but only because no one else can see him.

Wangji quite likes you.

Not so.

~~~

If Lan Wangji is honest with himself, his thoughts strayed even on that very first night. His fingers in Wei Wuxian's hair adjusting his hair piece, puffs of his own breath against the shell of the other man's ear, the heat of Wei Wuxian's body against his chest… 

Wei Wuxian might have been tipsy, but Lan Wangji was not and he remembers every second of their short exchange. 

He's heard tales of this boy, this son of Cangse Sanren, wrecking havoc, driving Uncle up the wall, being a literal hellion back when he'd been fifteen years old and a guest disciple. He wonders if he hadn't chosen to cultivate in seclusion on the snowy summits of Mt. Gusu, what his impression of Wei Wuxian would've been then, what Wei Wuxian would've looked like then.

At eighteen years old, Wei Wuxian is tall, lean and well formed, and decidedly not a prepubescent boy anymore.  Neither, it seems, is Lan Wangji.

It's his own fault, he thinks, in retrospect, for being so unguarded, but then again he's never had reason to be guarded in matters of the heart. Growing up, while everyone around him found themselves cautiously testing the waters of teenage love, he had stood watching with a cynical gaze on the sideline, feeling not at all sorry about it. Even his own brother Xichen, when he thought their Uncle wasn't paying attention, secretly participated. Nie Mingjue might have been Lan Xichen's first, but Lan Wangji is willing to bet his left kidney that he's not the last.

It's normal, their Elders tell them, to have these feelings as they age, but they must not act upon them so carelessly. As with all things, restraint, self-reflection and patience are asked of Gusu's disciples. The young couples who may be so lucky (or so unlucky) to find themselves caught in the rosy glow of first love are permitted to converse with one another to further their understanding of each other's character. They may enjoy each other's company provided that it is within viewing distance of their chaperoning friends. They are encouraged to play music together, to read together, to practice swordsmanship together, and even to go to Caiyi town together when the weather and their studies allow. All this, the Elders of Gusu Lan permit, but propriety is demanded at all times and the precepts of their sect are absolute.

Lan Wangji has never found the rules too difficult to obey…

…Until a beautiful boy smiled at him under the moon.

"So, I guess we're brothers now." That smile widened. "What should I call you? …Er-di (2)?"

"Shufu and xiongzhang calls me Wangji. You can too, if you want."

"Wangji….hmmmmm…Wang. Ji…"

 His name was …more when it was spoken by Wei Wuxian, yet somehow still not enough, and apparently Wei Wuxian thought so too.

"Nah. Doesn't feel right, does it? Hm, how about…I know! Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian leaned over the bannister, grinning.

For a minute all he could focus on was the sound of his name passing through those lips, like a caress. He swallowed, distracted, and almost missed Wei Wuxian muttering thoughtfully to himself while tapping on his chin, "Hm, but would that be too forward?...Well, I do call Jiang Cheng by his name, and he's my younger brother…technically…"

Like a spirit not his own possessing his body, Lan Wangji found himself replying, "Mn, Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian's jaw dropped open slightly, before he sputtered, "You can't call me that! I'm your xiong'fu!"

There was a blush climbing his cheeks that Lan Wangji found extremely appealing, not that he will ever admit it. He lowered his eyes, conceding that he did speak out of turn. "Apologies, xiong'fu."

Wei Wuxian grimaced, "You know, actually maybe I prefer my name better. But only when it's just us! Or else shufu and the Elders will have my hide for impropriety, and then I'll be the 'shame of Yunmeng'."  The quotation marks in his last sentence were loud and clear; no doubt Madam Yu's 'preparatory' words before the wedding.

"Mn."  Lan Zhan nodded.

"Excellent. I hope we can be friends," Wei Wuxian beamed at him and took another swig of his small jar of wine.

Pulling himself from his reveries, Lan Wangji looks up from the road and realizes he has already arrived back at Jingshi. His silent home. Lifting a hand, he rests it on his chest and feels his heartbeat thumping too fast to be from a simple walk back from dinner.

His brother's new groom did nothing but smile at him at the wedding, yet this thing in his chest - this terrible, weak, needy thing - is still fluttering. 

And it wants, it wants, and it wants.

Why? Why now? Why him?  Lan Wangji is utterly unprepared, because for eighteen years of his life it's never wanted anything, desired anyone, so how is  he to know that the thing that has laid so dormant and disinterested for so long would rear its treacherous head for Wei Wuxian of all people?

It's ridiculous is what it is.

Ridiculous, unbecoming, and shameful.

He thinks of Xichen, of his big brother, of his gentle indulgence and his fingers holding Wei Wuxian's - his husband.

Horror passes through Lan Wangji colder than the coldest spring of Mt Gusu. He clenches his fists.

No. This cannot continue. I cannot hurt brother. I cannot bring dishonour upon my family.  Wei Ying - no - Wei Wuxian wants to be friends, that's all we will be. Friends. Brothers.

He, Lan Wangji, is the master of his body, his temperament, his cultivation. Standing there in jingshi's courtyard basked in twilight quietness, he takes in the literal embodiment of his parents' mistakes.

His only memory of them together is this:

"Rong-gege, what are you doing here?" 

Inside jingshi in front his usual reading desk, he watched them curiously. He was small back then. Mother was tall, and Father even taller. Mother stood on the porch, and Father, a safe distance away, in the courtyard.

He didn't speak, merely stared at her quietly.

It was not long after that his Uncle told them - him and brother - of their mother's past. He warned them against becoming weak like their father, against loving someone that they shouldn't, someone who can't return their feelings, damning themselves in the process. He doesn't know if he believes his uncle entirely, but he knows for a fact Wei Wuxian is line he cannot cross. 

Lan Wangji remembers his lessons, and he will not waver from his principles.

Friends. Brothers.

~~~

As it turns out, Lan Wangji's big plan to get over his inappropriate attraction to his own brother-in-law is to simply avoid him at all cost.

True to his promise to his husband, Lan Xichen does divide up dinner time between the dining hall and hanshi, giving Wei Wuxian the opportunity and freedom to chatter away to his heart's content the way he wouldn't be able to in public.

Lan Wangji has jolted down his brother's work and leisure schedule to make sure he never appears in the same space as Wei Wuxian or - worse -  Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen together. His brother knows him too well, and he can't always guarantee that he can control his minuscule, almost imperceptible facial expressions.

The only thing more mortifying than his strange fascination with Wei Wuxian is if Lan Xichen finds out about it.

But sometimes, he will still catch glimpses of Wei Wuxian lingering in the courtyard to speak with disciples or strolling along the pavilions with Lan Xichen. Lan Wangji never approaches him. He turns on his heels and leaves the other way, but always, always a moment too late, his eyes lingering a second too long.

The problem is that even when he does not see him, he still hears of him:

Yesterday morning, Wei Wuxian gave his first talisman crafting lesson to the novices. It is uncertain how he managed to end up being doggy-piled by twenty-five laughing baby Lans, but the class unanimously agreed that five-year-old Lan Jingyi started it.

Last week, he supervised a group of juniors on their first night hunt. They all returned a little worse for wear but in superb spirits, and has been singing Wei Wuxian praises non-stop.

Tomorrow, Zewu-jun is leaving on a trip to Qinghe to meet with Chifeng-zun, and has charged Wei Wuxian as deputy in his absence, an honour which is usually reserved for his little brother. 

It's quite difficult, as it turns out, to actively dislike Wei Wuxian, because within two months of being here, he's won over all the novices and juniors and most of the seniors. The jury's still out on the Elders but at this point it's only a matter of time.

Lan Wangji is fairly sure that most of the female disciples and quite a number of the male disciples have developed an admiration of sorts for his brother's husband. It's never anything alarming or heinous, and Wei Wuxian is clearly someone that inspires others to gravitate towards him, so following this logic, Lan Wangji's own feelings are nothing he ought to worry about.

It's merely newness. He tells himself.

An intrigue.

A passing fancy.

A crush.

Despite grimacing at his own choice of words (crush, utterly juvenile), a very large part of him still undeniably prays that it is just a crush, because crushes are fleeting, ephemeral. Crushes fade with time. He just has to wait it out. He will not nurture this ludicrous impulsion. If he ignores it, it will shrivel up and die like an unwatered plant, and one day, he will wake up and no longer ache (quite literally on some mornings, well, most mornings now) for his brother's husband, and balance will be returned to the universe.

Yes, wait it out. It will get better. Surely, it will.

It doesn't.

~~~

The real problem starts towards the end of the second month, when Wei Wuxian and his big brain decide that he too would like to practice cultivation through music.

According to the disciples, Uncle is thrilled at this prospect and has charged Lan Wangji with helping him do it. If he were the type to groan in frustration, he would, but alas this is a task he can't easily shake off. What's he to do? March up to his Uncle's study and tell him he can't accompany his brother-in-law to the music vault because he can't be trusted to be within five feet of Wei Wuxian's Wei Wuxian-ness? That he's afraid his perfidious little heart will stop for good if Wei Wuxian so much as smile at him again, or that he might do something irrevocable like shove Wei Wuxian up against one of those shelves containing sacred music scrolls and - and - well he hasn't thought that far yet, but he's sure that whatever it is will surely break several prominent sect regulations.

Now he has to endure being inside one room with Wei Wuxian for an extended period of time, listening to him go ooh and ahh as he strokes his finger along every unclaimed guqin, every curvaceous pipa, every long elegant dizi or xiao.

Within five minutes of being inside the music vault with Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji has learned that he, the Second Jade of Gusu, is in fact a weak deplorable man, and that if Gusu Lan were thrust into war with enemy forces, under the ministrations of a skilled and perceptive torturer, he would crack like an egg.

Suppressing a shudder, Lan Wangji tracks Wei Wuxian's movements as he fleets about the room, struggling to come to a decision.

Pick the guqin, a part of Lan Wangji hopes. He knows the guqin the best, so it'll be easy to teach Wei Wuxian, and then he can focus the rest of his energy hiding his inappropriate longing. But then an image flashes across his mind of Wei Wuxian sitting pressed close to him within the circle of his arms, his hand being held in his own as Lan Wangji skillfully guides it across the strings.

He swallows hard. No. No that won't do.

Wei Wuxian pauses in front of a pipa hung up on the wall. Pipa is not traditionally speaking a gentleman's instrument, but it could work, except pipa is a rather coy instrument isn't it, its stem hiding half of the artist's face. No, not that, definitely not that.

"I think I'm gonna choose the dizi. I already know how to play, so to cultivate with it should not be too difficult." Wei Wuxian picks up the sleek long flute, carved from a piece of white jade similar to Liebing.

Lan Wangji frowns.

Aesthetically, it certainly goes with Wei Wuxian's attire. Like any good clansman or disciple of Gusu Lan, he is dressed in sect appropriate colours. Today, he has chosen an outer robe of down grey and a middle layer of white adorned with pale blue details. Standing there under the soft filtered sunlight, holding the pale dizi in his hands, Wei Wuxian is every inch a Lan.

Except Lan Wangji has seen Suibian, and suspects that all of this - from the silver that coils around his topknot to the jade bujin (3) that hangs from his belt - just isn't very him. 

"What?" Wei Wuxian asks. "You don't like it?"

Lan Wangji moves closer to the shelf that stores the unused flutes, skimming the labels until he finds what he's looking for. "This one." He draws out the long box collecting dust at the bottom and hands it to Wei Wuxian, taking the white one from him in the exchange.

Wei Wuxian raises a quizzical brow. "What is it? So mysterious…" He mumbles skeptically, but when he opens the box, his eyes go wide. "Oh…"

Lan Wangji watches with bated breath as Wei Wuxian's picks up the long dizi from where it sits nestled in the box. He examines it closely, eyes tracing every indent and groove carved along the pure black jade, and a wide smile blooms across his handsome face.

"It's perfect," he breathes, voice hushed and reverent. "Lan Zhan, it's beautiful." But then his smile takes on a mischievous edge. "Black? Not very Lan, you know. No wonder there's a thick layer of dust on the box. How did this one come about? And which poor disciple got caned for it?"

Lan Wangji presses his lips together and resists the urge to roll his eyes. "No one. Craftsmen do have a certain degree of creative freedom. This particular piece just wasn't very well received, but I thought, perhaps you would appreciate its crafter's vision."

"Oh? Because I'm so very contrary?"

"If you don't like it, we can keep looking."

But Wei Wuxian clutches the dizi to his chest and laughs delightedly, "So easily teased, Lan Zhan, I'm only kidding. Of course I love it. Come on, let's get started!"

His new spirit weapon acquired, Wei Wuxian drags Lan Wangji to the library pavilion to pick out a few books on music cultivation.

There's a bounce in Wei Wuxian's steps as he talks ceaselessly whilst twirling his dizi between his fingers.

"I've decided to name it Chenqing."

"Mn."

"Don't you want to know why?" Wei Wuxian knocks him against the shoulder with his own.

"Irrelevant. As you are imminently about to tell me, I doubt I have a choice in the matter."

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian exclaims in mock indignance, then realizes his mistake and quickly glances around. No one heard. A miracle really. He's quite loud. "Er-di, why that was almost a joke. I didn't know you had it in you!" He throws an arm around Lan Zhan's shoulder and claps him in encouragement.

Lan Wangji feels the corner of his lips betray himself.

Oh no!

But also -

He has his arm around me!

"We should hurry," he changes the subject and pulls himself free. "There's much to do."

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, wait, wait!" Wei Wuxian catches up to him as they step into the quiet atmosphere of the library. "I've heard of your Wangji and Zewu-jun's Liebing and the great things they could do, but even though this dizi is a spiritual weapon, I don't intend to use it for offense purposes. I already have my best partner Suibian - of course I love you too Chenqing -" coos Wei Wuxian as he strokes the dizi like a baby or a lover, it's really quite difficult to tell at this point "- but what I admire the most about Gusu's cultivation techniques is your ability to use music to communicate with the beyond. That's why I named it Chenqing. Shufu didn't like it much when I suggested it in class, but I do believe there is potential to be had from communicating and influencing actions of spirits and the dead. It could be an invaluable and untapped resource during night hunts."

"That's -" Lan Zhan spins on him. "I've heard of your suggestions. Your theories border on blasphemy."

Wei Wuxian pouts. "You sound just like shufu. I'm not saying diving head first into demonic cultivation, but if we could within the safety of spiritual cultivation develop new methods for night hunt, use our resources more efficiently, make it safer for our disciples, save more innocents, defend against greater evil, why shouldn't we?"

Lan Wangji frowns in return, his heart hammering in his chest from more than just the disquiet evoked by Wei Wuxian's audacious suggestion.

"To cultivate the mo path, to stray from orthodoxy, others have attempted it, but there's always a price."

"I know. But this isn't the demonic path, this is just… sampling ideas from it and bettering it for our needs as spiritual cultivators."

Lan Wangji stares at him, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and is suddenly pulled onto another line of thought by Wei Wuxian's serious face.

"Has brother…spoken to you?" 

There's been some strange sightings of cultivators and civilians being turned into puppets along the border of Gusu and Lanling. Lan Xichen leaves frequently to investigate. It's a highly guarded secret, known by a few of the highest authority at Cloud Recesses, but if Lan Xichen has left Wei Wuxian as his deputy, then it stands to reason that he would've briefed him on this matter. 

"You mean the puppets?" Wei Wuxian walks towards the low table at the center of the pavilion and flops down. "Not in so many words, but he did warn me about them. I saw them carry an affected corpse into the infirmary to be examined by the healers. I caught a glimpse of the markings on his face, and then later, I overheard Zewu-jun talking to shufu. It wasn't hard putting two and two together."

Lan Wangji takes a seat across from him. "I thought xiongzhang would've told you more. You two are…close."

Wei Wuxian lets out the biggest sigh yet and props his chin on one hand. "You're his baby brother, so I feel kind of awkward telling you this but, your brother and I - that's a different problem all together."

He pauses, rubbing his nose self-consciously. Lan Wangji waits for him to continue.

"I don't really see him that often." Wei Wuxian finally says. "He's away a lot, and when he's back he's always busy with other things, which of course that's understandable, he's the sect master, head of the family, but I just want…"

He sighs again, heavy like lead.

Lan Wangji turns his words over in his mind, considering them carefully before asking,  "Why do you want to learn music cultivation techniques, aside from the potential experiments you spoke of earlier?"

"Well, I'm part of Gusu Lan now. Shouldn't I?"

Lan Wangji's silence loudly states I see through your bullshit.

"Fine, I'm doing this… because I want to be useful. To him."

Wei Wuxian fiddles with his sleeve. "I want your brother to like me more."  He leans against the table and turns away from Lan Wangji to hide his blush. The silk of his hair spills across the table top, black as ink against his pale grey robes. A streak of sunlight steals into the room from the high windows, catching his eyes and turning those dark irises golden brown.

Lan Wangji hardly has time to process his thoughts before the next words escape from his lips. "If you want my brother to like you, maybe you should sit up straight."

Instead of draping yourself across the table like a courtesan on display in front of me.

Wei Wuxian throws him an incensed glare. "I don't sit like this in his presence! It's just you and me in the library, no one is going to know unless you snitch on me."

Lan Wangji frowns. "So…you married my brother under false pretenses?" It's clear that sitting with his legs crossed, body half leaned over is Wei Wuxian's preferred state of being, but he is clearly making an effort to hide that from Lan Xichen. 

"No! God, Lan Zhan, how are you such a fuddy-buddy for so young a person? Of course Zewu-jun knows I'm loud and obnoxious and likes to lean diagonally on any available surface; he did come to Lotus Pier numerous times to visit me you know, and I did show him the worst of me, to see if he can be scared off. Apparently not. The last thing I want is for him to regret this marriage. Now that I’m here, call me selfish but I don't want my own husband to just tolerate my existence, treat me like a guest, or even like a lukewarm acquaintance."

Something stumbles inside Lan Wangji's chest when he hears Wei Wuxian flippantly calls himself "loud, obnoxious", as if it isn't true and he's just heard a heinous slander. In reality, if he's being objective, he can see that it is absolutely true. Wei Wuxian is loud and sometimes obnoxious and even arrogant, but there is something about him, something bright and warm and good that outshines all the other parts. It doesn't quite blind Lan Wangji, but it has his undivided attention, and he is captivated, besotted.

"I want him to love me, is that really so bad?" Wei Wuxian looks at his hands, wringing the blue tassels on his bujin.

"He does. You're his husband." Lan Wangji has no idea whether this is true, but if he says it then maybe Wei Wuxian will believe it and stop looking so sad. He desperately wants to see him smile again.

"I don’t know…Lan Zhan, I try everything I can to get him to like me, but I don't think he does. I thought if I could show him that I could be a true Lan then…" Wei Wuxian holds Chenqing out in front of him, uncertainty flickering across his face for the first time since Lan Wangji presented him with the dizi.

"Maybe I should have picked the other one."

Behind his silence, Lan Wangji is panicking. What exactly is he supposed to say to Wei Wuxian?! The fact he has carried on the conversation for as long as he has is an achievement in and of itself. He's spoken more words this morning than all of last week combined. But Wei Wuxian is clearly upset, and he should… comfort him, yes? That's what people do? What good friends do?

It has occurred to him between the time they spent at the music vault to here that Wei Wuxian, despite all the rumours of his social butterfly behaviour, might actually be lonely.

"You -"

But Wei Wuxian shakes his head, interrupting him with a smile that Lan Wangji can see is at least half forced. "Look at me, being pitiful. Forget about it, Lan Zhan, let's get back to the music. Whether it'll win Zewu-jun's favour or not, it's still an invaluable skill to have!"

Lan Wangji stares at his companion for a reluctant moment, not quite sure if he should let it go. But if he persists, what could he say? Comforting people is hardly his forte. Not to mention, he is beginning to feel a trickle of annoyance, not at Wei Wuxian, but at his own big brother. How ridiculous. So perhaps a change in topic is exactly what they need. 

"Mn."

~~~~

It gets worse from there.

Once Lan Wangji allows himself to actually talk with Wei Wuxian, or rather, let Wei Wuxian talk at him while he drowns in panicked silence, there's no stopping the other man from slowly but surely taking over his life.

Lan Zhan listen to the piece I just learned!

Lan Zhan, you won't believe what this junior wrote in his exorcism analysis essay - listen, listen, I'll read it to you it's great, and by great I mean it's hilarious, and by hilarious I mean it's very wrong. Poor thing, he's going to have to repeat this class.

Lan Zhan, Zewu-jun is coming home today, do you think he'd appreciate me making dinner for him?

I'm sure xiongzhang will appreciate whatever you make, he says, not entirely truthfully. Lan Xichen will certainly try to like Wei Wuxian's cooking, or at least not be openly rude about it.

Lan Wangji has had the fortune misfortune of being Wei Wuxian's culinary guinea pig in Lan Xichen's absence. Wei Wuxian is very dedicated, and as a good friend, he cannot let his efforts go to waste…nor be the only Lan to have heartburn for a week.

Lan Zhan, you liar! You said he'll like whatever I make! You didn't tell me your brother can't handle spicy food at all!! He nearly died at the table!!

I'm sure that's a gross exaggeration, Lan Zhan replies. He does not laugh. He does not. Brother will forgive him….probably.

Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! A-Cheng sent me roasted lotus seeds, here have some! Don't worry, I have loads. I already sent some to Shufu and allotted a batch for Zewu-jun. He…left again this morning to meet up with Sect Leader Nie for the investigation.

Lan Zhan, the winds are changing.

It is indeed.

Don't be afraid, Wei Ying.

They spar on a chilly November afternoon as demonstration for the junior disciples. Wei Wuxian is not as fast as him, but his body his lithe like a feral cat and his moves are wily and unpredictable. Lan Wangji technically beats him in the end, though he doesn't know if it should really count as a victory.

Before Wei Wuxian's arrival at Cloud Recesses, Xichen was the only one who could beat him in hand to hand combat, and only on occasion. Ever since he turned fifteen, he hasn't lost to a second person…

…but it appears that is about to change.

They've been going at it for about half n hour, each strike firm and true keeping the juniors on the edge of their seats, neither one of them interested in pulling punches. Where would be fun teaching value in that?

A flurry of movements later, Lan Wangji sees an open. Wei Wuxian is quite balanced, but there is an infinitesimal favour for his left.

Wei Wuxian grunts as Lan Wangji swings the edge of his palm into the space between his sixth and seventh ribs, and while he's momentarily stunned, Lan Wangji jabs his elbow into his solar plexuses.

But Wei Wuxian is not the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, the son of Cangse Sanren, for nothing. Ready with a counter maneuver, he grabs at the back of Lan Wangji's neck, a fistful of Lan Wangji's hair. Making a split second decision, Lan Wangji aims a harsh kick to Wei Wuxian's ankle that knocks him off his footing…

…Which would've secured his victory had Wei Wuxian not kept a death grip on his collar and dragged him along in his side-way descent.

They land simultaneously on their shoulders. Instinct taking over reason, disregarding the watching eyes, Lan Wangji shoves Wei Wuxian onto his back with one move, trapping his hips between the bracket of his thighs.

They're both sweating and panting. Wei Wuxian's eyes are bright with energy and spirit, cheeks flushed from exertion.

"I guess you win, Lan Zhan." He chuckles.

Lan Wangji aches somewhere deep, lost in the grace of that cheerful smile shining entirely for him.   

It's only the disciples' cheers that pull him out of his trance.

He pushes off the ground, removes himself from the temptation. Wei Wuxian sits up after him, pointing towards the group of grinning thirteen-year-olds and admonishes in a mock lecturing tone, "Excessive noise is forbidden."

The juniors laugh, and Lan Wangji realizes, devastatingly, that against Wei Wuxian, he'll never truly win. Every victory is still a loss in the grand scheme of things. He can't make himself unaffected, can't keep his distance, can't go back to a time when Wei Wuxian did not matter in his life.

He can't quit him. It's already too late.

"Bath," he manages to say before rushing off, and is blessedly grateful that Wei Wuxian does not chase after him. He stays behind to gather the juniors for some final pointers and tips, so by the time he dismisses class, Lan Wangji has long made his escape to the Cold Pond, where he meditates until his lips turn blue.

~~~

Wei Wuxian transposes Inquiry for Chenqing.

Lan Wangji develops insomnia.

He starts composing.

~~~

The puppet issue does not resolve with time. Over the months, both Qinghe and Gusu has seen an increase in sightings along their borders. Even Yunmeng, whose shared territory with the Lans is far less than the other two great sects, has heard rumours. Jiang Fengmian's letter confirms the Nies' and Lans' suspicion that the epicenter is indeed Lanling.

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are tight lipped about the whole matter, but Wei Wuxian is charged with increasing the training of the disciples and reviewing the strategic placements of their defense talisman. Lan Wangji sometimes goes on investigations with his brother, but mostly he stays behind to guard their home with Wei Wuxian.

Amidst the tension, however, there are moments of brevity.

The rabbits, for example, are an unexpected surprise.

It's December, and New Years is fast approaching. As the lecture season winds down and disciples hustle to hand in their assignments, the seniors find themselves at some leisure during the day.

On a snowy evening, Wei Wuxian arrives at jingshi uninvited, heavy winter cloak around his shoulder and snow melting into his hair. His cheeks are pink from the wind, and with a dashing grin, he presents Lan Wangji with two quivering balls of fur, one white, one black.

"Lan Zhan, you won't believe it, I spotted them in the back mountain when I went on my walk. Do you think shufu will make an exception for meat for New Years dinner?" He holds them up by the ears, like a successful huntsman coming home with game.

The poor things stare up at him with baleful eyes, resigned to their fate of being turned into a hot dish served with red peppers.

"If I fatten them up in the next couple of weeks and then marinate -"

Lan Wangji internally screams and all put snatches the bunnies from Wei Wuxian's carnivorous claws. The terrified creatures quickly wiggle their way into the outer layer of his winter robes, seeking warmth and protection from Wei Wuxian's culinary aspirations.

"No."

"Why nooot?" He whines.

"Killing is forbidden -

" - in Cloud Recesses, yes, yes I know, but it's New Years!"

"No. I won't let you."

"Soooo… you'll keep them safe?" Wei Wuxian's grin is sly.

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes, realizing that this was a trap and he fell for it like a sucker.

"Pets are also forbidden."

The black bunny peeks its adorable little face out from under his robes as if to plead the case for him and his little friend. The white one settles in the crook of his arm and ceases his full-body trembles.

"But they're babies." Wei Wuxian coos, (aggressively) scratching the white bunny behind one ear.

Lan Wangji shoots him a dirty glare. "Too rough."

"See you already care about them," Wei Wuxian practically bats his eyelashes. Lan Wangji thinks there ought to be a rule against batting eyelashes, specifically Wei Wuxian batting his eyelashes, specifically at him.

Does this idiot even know that he's batting his eyelashes?? Flirtingly?? At him, his xiao-shuzi (4)?? Not likely. 

"Where did you find them?"

"In the back mountain, near the Cold Pond. I was exploring. I wonder how they got there?"

Of course, at the time, they do not know that these are the two remnants of Lan Yi's rabbits that got left behind during Lan Xichen's relocation of Gusu's Yin Iron. When they finally get around to asking Lan Xichen about the rest of the hoard, he tells them they've been given to appropriate homes. Whatever that means. 

"Brother will find out."

"He's not here today. What if we don't tell him..." Wei Wuxian takes an unconscious step closer, gentling his hand to light pets. "It'll be our secret. They're just bunnies, and they don't even have their mother. It's so cold this winter, they'll surely die without us."

Lan Wangji thinks about admonishing Wei Wuxian for lying, for trying got coax him into lying to his brother, his Sect Master, Wei Wuxian's own husband, but then he looks down and sees that one of his treacherous hands has already betrayed him and is gently stroking the bunny's soft fur.

He sighs. "All right."

Wei Wuxian's relieved smile is worth everything. A part of him firmly believes that a smile like that could fall cities and drive men to war. 

"Thank you Lan Zhan! You're the greatest! The best!" His praise is guileless and sincere, and Lan Wangji warms at those kind words.

They're standing unspeakably close, toe to toe with the bunnies in between them on the front steps of jingshi. Lan Wangji can feel Wei Wuxian's warm breath on his face, each puff like white mist in the cold wintry air. It's not fair - not fair - how long his lashes are, how deep his eyes seem to gaze, and how soft his lips appear with that enticing the little mole just underneath.

...Lan Wangji wants to kiss him.

Lightning shoots down his spine at the thought. He takes an abrupt step back. "You should go."

"Huh?"

"Back to hanshi. It's late." Not waiting for a proper goodbye, Lan Zhan rushes back into the house and slams the doors abruptly in Wei Wuxian's face. "Goodnight."

"O - oh. Okay, yeah, I'll come tomorrow to check on them, Lan Zhan! Are you sure I can't convince you to let me cook a dish for -"

"No!"

Wei Wuxian laughs, "All right, all right, I'll stop. Goodnight!"

After the crunching sounds of Wei Wuxian's footsteps in the snow fade into the distance, Lan Wangji slides numbly to the ground, still holding the bunnies.

The clarity of his feelings is as obvious to him now as a mirror in his heart. He knows why he can't refuse Wei Wuxian, knows why he can't sleep at night, why he's afraid to sleep at night.

Lan Wangji has been so good at forcing himself to only think about Wei Wuxian within narrow boundaries during the light of day, but at night, behind closed doors and closed eyes, his dreams are plagued by manifestations of desires that can never be satisfied. He dreams of bright eyes and brighter smiles, of milky thighs wrapped around his waist, of a firm body he's come to know lying in his bed instead of on the dirt ground of the training site, and of a pair of soft panting lips whispering his name.

Lan Zhan…

He knows the war is lost.

Wei Ying.

Chapter Text

It is brighter than usual when he rolls over in bed and grumbles into his pillow. Wei Wuxian pulls the edge of his blanket closer to his chin and wiggles a little in the warm cocoon he has wrapped around himself. Unwilling to subject himself to the reality of daytime just yet, he breathes in the calming sandalwood scent lingering on his pillow and sighs in contentment.

Wait.

He blinks awake, brows furrowing as the cogs and wheels in his mind begin to grind against the heaviness of sleep. Though sandalwood is a rather common incense used by Cloud Recesses, Zewu-jun prefers aloeswood.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes fully, turns over onto his back, and stares at an unfamiliar ceiling.

Where…where the hell am I?

This isn't Hanshi.

…

…This is Jingshi.

Jingshi?!

"Shit!' He shoots up, twisting this way and that as he takes in his surrounding. There, over by the center vestibule is Lan Wangji's writing desk. Scrolls painted by his preferred artist from the previous dynasty hang along the wall on the opposite side of the room. By its side is Wangji, Lan Zhan's guqin.

Fuck.

Definitely Jingshi.

"Lan Zhan?!" Wei Wuxian calls out, but receives no response.

How did I end up here? What happened last night?

His hand shoots to the front of his chest and he is relieved to find that he still has all his clothes on. Only his shoes are removed. Phew. Alright, so that means nothing nefarious happened, but gods, judging by the height of the sun it must be way past sunrise. People would be looking for him soon. In fact he is pretty sure he is supposed to meet with Uncle after breakfast to discuss - to discuss - gods he can't remember. If anyone catches him in Jingshi like this, in Lan Wangji’s bed no less -

- oh he is dead, dead!

The sheer gossip would be enough to kill him.

"Fucking hell," Wei Wuxian curses under his breath, pulling on his boots and trying to comprehend why he has such a headache.

It is almost as though he is hungover -

Hungover.

Emperor's Smile.

Oh, that's right -

~~~

"Er-gongzi's birthday?"

It is on the return journey from their gruelling, two-week long night hunt that Wei Wuxian learns of this news from his senior disciples. They are about a day's trip away from Cloud Recesses, and due to exhaustion, have collectively decided to stay the night at a comfortable inn rather than camping out in the outdoors like they were forced to do during the most intense interlude of their hunt.

Ever thrifty, Wei Wuxian has planned well for their trip and so their funds are in excess. The team, composed of five senior disciples and two of their most-well trained juniors, are sent on a semi-classified mission by Zewu-jun and the Elders to investigate strange sightings reported by subsidiary clans in their border lands.

"You are not to speak of this to anyone outside of those in-the-know, understand?" Commanded Wei Wuxian when he rounded up his charges at the end of their hunt, standing over the remains of fierce corpses littering the forest floor.

"Understood, Wei-jun."

They've done well, and Wei Wuxian is all about rewarding where rewards are due. Tonight would be their last night out before returning home, so he orders a round of hearty dinner for their group of eight. Three of the disciples just about cry when Wei Wuxian takes pity on their stomachs and orders them chicken AND pork. They aren't within the confines of Cloud Recesses, so technically speaking, they are allowed to eat meat.

As their food is served, one of the seniors scoops a large spoonful of braised pork into his bowl of rice and says, "I was complaining initially that we'd miss Hanguang-jun's birthday and therefore possibly the best meal of the year, but this more than makes up for it."

His friends hum in agreement, but the conversation lulls as they dig hungrily into their own bowls.

Wei Wuxian, however, is more interested in this tidbit than eating. "It's Lan Z…er'di's birthday?"

"Yeah, three days ago," says a junior, carelessly violating the 'silence while eating' rule. "Tang-shen'er in the kitchen used to be Er-gongzi’s nanny, or wet nurse - uh, something like that - and she always makes the best dishes on his birthday. Of course, everyone at Cloud Recesses eats the same thing, so naturally, we all benefit." (note: Tang-shen'er = auntie Tang. The difference between shen and yi is that shen = wife of a younger uncle, yi = mother’s sister. They are both ways to say auntie.)

The boy grins, biting down into a honeyed chicken thigh. "But thank you for indulging us, Wei-jun. I haven't had meat in months."

Wei Wuxian nods, "I see…"

He feels wrong-footed. Lan Wangji is arguably his best friend since coming to Cloud Recesses, his companion, his confidant, his person. That he didn’t even prepare a gift of some kind, or a well-wishing message, or even had knowledge of his birth date is downright criminal. He estimates that Lan Zhan, the good, hardworking Lan-er-gongzi, probably doesn’t even notice his own birthday coming and going each year. The Lans are notoriously austere in this way.

Normally, Wei Wuxian would be confident that Lan Xichen would dote on his little brother, but even that's not guaranteed this year since Zewu-jun became embroiled in this nasty fierce corpse business. Uncle Qiren on the other hand hardly seems like the type to be celebratory and indulgent, which is probably why the kitchen cook of all people is remembered by the disciples as the one person who makes an occasion of it.

This is absolutely unacceptable.

Wei Wuxian sighs, something twisting unpleasantly in his stomach. Lan Zhan ought to be the happiest on his birthday; he is the best of people, and if anyone deserves it, he does. The little fuddy-duddy probably thinks nothing of it, that’s just the kind of person he is, but as his self-appointed bestfriend, Wei Wuxian cannot in good conscience let it go. It is a faux-pas that must be corrected upon his return.

His gut response, true to his Yunmeng upbringing, is to sneak some alcohol into Cloud Recesses for a little bit of private celebration. Sadly, alcohol is still forbidden, and it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Lan Zhan would go for.

"Zhanggui'de," Wei Wuxian waves down the innkeeper. "What non-alcoholic beverages are available and popular at your establishment. Surely not all customers order alcohol.”

"Ah, yes sir, quite right sir. Plum cider is an extremely popular drink in this region, especially in the winter. Would you and your party like to try some?" 

Plum cider? Hmm, excellent!

Wei Wuxian pays for enough to go around the table, using his disciples as unwitting test subjects. The taste of it is tangy and tart on his tongue, but it goes down smooth and leaves a pleasant aftertaste. Not bad indeed. The disciples think so too.

This is perhaps as close to plum wine as any of them is going to get.

A plan formulates in his mind. Wei Wuxian nods happily at another round of thanks he receives from the disciples and begins plotting. That night, while the disciples sleep off their weariness, Wei Wuxian gets down to work. The next morning, he leads the team home.

They arrive at Cloud Recesses a bit before dinner. Lan Xichen is away on another meeting with Jiang Fengmian and Nie Mingjue, thus leaving Wei Wuxian to report the findings of the night hunt to Lan Qiren. Lan Wangji is present as well, much to his delight.

"All went as expected?" The Second Jade of Lan inquires quietly upon seeing him, which is as verbal as he would ever get with his well-wishes. It is the equivalent to a good-to-see-you hug that Wei Wuxian is used to receive from Jiang Cheng. 

"Not quite," replies Wei Wuxian, but he grins nonetheless. "But I'm back now."

He is positively giddy with anticipation for what he has planned, but first, business.

"We tracked the fierce corpses into Lanling's territory, along its southern most region where our jurisdiction crosses that of the Jins and the Wens. That was where we encountered a group of patrolling Wen disciples." Wei Wuxian gestures at the map laid out on Uncle's desk. "They were led by Wen-zongzhu's second in command, his shidi, Wen Zhuliu -"

Lan Qiren frowns at the name, his gaze sliding surreptitious to Lan Wangji, an odd reaction which only Wei Wuxian catches.

"You know of him, Uncle?"

Lan Qiren clears his throat and shakes his head. "No, but I’ve heard of him some years ago."

Wei Wuxian gets a strange sense that the usually no-nonsense man is not entirely the truth. Lan Wangji does not seem to notice.

"What happened next?"

"He did not offer assistance but assured us that any issues within Qishan's territory would be dealt with by Qishan Wen and requires no further interference from external forces."

Lan Qiren considers this silently, stroking his beard. "Yes, their land is vast and has supervisory offices set up throughout their territory. Qishan Wen's disciples are diligent and trained. If the fierce corpses escaped into their land, we do not need to worry. Wen-zongzhu is a sensible man; he would deal with it accordingly."

"Is Wen-zongzhu still reluctant to join forces with xiongzhang, Nie-zongzhu and Jiang-zongzhu?" Lan Wangji inquires, his suppressed frustration leeching into his speech.

Over the last couple of months, he had witnessed how his brother slaved over this issue which grew by the day. That there are still sect leaders out there able to sit back and watch Lanling's ambition unfold is unfathomable. Truthfully speaking, Lan Wangji can admit to himself that he does not have the best head for politics, but the inaction of others on an issue the solution to which seems obvious to him often elicits feelings of frustration he cannot temper.

Wei Wuxian lays a firm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Jiang-shushu often told us that the Wens are physicians first and cultivators second. They do not concern themselves with the politics of others. Wen Zhuliu may have been curt, but not unkind."  

Qishan Wen are a private people, and the man who leads the sect - Wen Ruotian – is in possession of a clear mind and a level head. Under him, Qishan is stable and prosperous and able to withstand pressures from outside forces, especially that of the Chief Cultivator Jin Guangshan. Wen Ruotian has two children, his heir Wen Ning, and an elder daughter Wen Qing, neither of whom Wei Wuxian has ever seen in person. Wen Qing is younger than his shijie but older than Jiang Cheng and himself, so even when she had come to Cloud Recesses to study, they did not have occasion to meet. Wen Ning is younger still than all of them, and has never been known to leave Nevernight.

Lan Qiren folds his hands behind his back. "You did well, Wuxian. I will relay this information to Xichen. Unfortunately, he has gone out to meet with Sect Master Nie. He might return later tonight or early tomorrow. Rest now. You've been gone for days. We'll see you at dinner."

“Yes, shufu.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji bow, sensing that they are being dismissed. Together, they make their way out of their uncle's study.

"Hey, Lan Zhan -" Wei Wuxian whispers under his breath, tugging on Lan Wangji's sleeve furtively just as Lan Qiren suddenly remembers something else and calls out to him,

"Oh, Wuxian, I meant to ask -"

Wei Wuxian drops Lan Wangji's sleeve immediately and spins around too quickly with too bright a smile. "Yes Uncle."

What are you doing? Don't act suspicious, you weren't doing anything wrong!

Then why is his heart pounding so fast, like a child whose hand is caught in the pastry jar.

Thankfully, Lan Qiren does not seem to notice. Rather, he clears his throat, a sign that he is feeling somewhat awkward at what he is about to say. "I don't mean to pry, but as your elder it is my responsibility to ensure that you and Xichen are well. You are…well, yes? I know Xichen isn't often home, given how things have been, but things are going…amiably for you two, yes?"

What Lan Qiren is really trying to ask - and what Wei Wuxian is mortified to realize - is whether he and his husband are having an amorous marriage, to which the answer is no, absolutely not. Lan Xichen has not so much as attempted to kiss him since their wedding night. It's been terribly disappointing - not to mention a blow to his confidence.

But it's not like Wei Wuxian can very well tell Lan Qiren that Lan Xichen is treating him like a trophy husband in the sense that he is literally left to collect dust on the shelf.

"Everything is great, Uncle, please don't worry. There's no concern. Zewu-jun - ah, Xichen - is very kind to me, very caring."

Behind him, he can feel Lan Wangji's eyes boring into his head. Wei Wuxian maintains his smile. This isn't lying, not at all. Lan Xichen is indeed very kind to him, always courteous, always gentle. He just keeps him at arm's length, even when they lie right next to each other at night. 

Lan Qiren, however, seems satisfied with his response. "Good. Good."

Wei Wuxian bows again and quickly makes his escape before Uncle could think to ask any more uncomfortable questions.

Lan Wangji, who is aware of his situation, waits until they are both way out of earshot before stealing a glance his way. "Wei Ying…"

"Don't start, Lan Zhan, not today." Wei Wuxian shakes his head. "I'll be fine. Besides, I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"Um hm!" Wei Wuxian smiles brightly, pushing all negative thoughts aside. "Don't eat too much at dinner. Knowing you, you probably won't, but… leave some space for later, alright?"

Lan Wangji frowns in confusion, "But why?"

"You'll see."

~~~

Truth be told, Wei Wuxian is exhausted. He'd been up most nights the last two weeks keeping the disciples safe, and when everyone else rested last night, he had spent his time preparing Lan Wangji's surprise, which he really hopes his friend likes.

After dinner, Wei Wuxian makes his way towards Jingshi, a lightness in his steps and anticipation fluttering in his chest. Lan Wangji is waiting for him on the front porch, watching the snow that has just begun to fall again. Sesame and Coconut (Zhima and Yezi) - the two bunnies Wei Wuxian rescued before New Years lie curled up in his lap. The black one, Sesame, is currently having his fur stroked and is having the time of his life.

Wei Wuxian pauses at the gate of Jingshi to admire the view for a moment (it's not weird to admire your brother-in-law). Lan Wangji truly lives up to his name, as beautiful and elegant and pure as jade.

As if sensing his gaze, Lan Wangji looks up and offers a quiet greeting, "Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian hurries his steps and trots up to his friend and brother-in-law, depositing three individually wrapped packages in front of him before taking a seat on the veranda. "Sorry, did you have to wait long? I came as quickly as I could, but an elder wanted to talk to me about the night hunt."

Lan Wangji passes the dosing white bunny Yezi to him and says, "No matter. For Wei Ying, I'll wait."

Wei Wuxian laughs, lifting Yezi to nuzzle against his soft fur and earning him an affectionate sniff from the sleepy creature. Lan Zhan is such a funny odd man. An absolute treasure.

"I hear you have a title now. What did the Elders pick as your ‘hao’?"

"Hanguang."

"Han. Guang. Hanguang-jun. The light bearer. Hm, apt, very apt indeed. Lan Zhan is good and righteous, our very own light bearer, the pride of all Gusu Lan." Wei Wuxian reaches out with one hand and pats the other man on the head, half in jest.

"Wei Ying. I am not a child." Lan Wangji pouts in response, much to Wei Wuxian's delight. He is almost too easy to tease.

"No? But A-Zhan is my xiao-shuzi, my husband's baby brother."

"I am older than you are."

"Only by a couple of months. And besides, what is the old saying again? 长兄如父，长嫂如母. Oldest brother is like father, oldest sister-in-law is like mother; well, as your oldest brother-in-law, technically I am your elder!"

His words only cause Lan Wangji's glower to intensify.

Wei Wuxian laughs delightedly some more. "Aiyo, alright, alright! I take it back; I take it back!"

Despite his rascal ways, Wei Wuxian has never been much of an accomplished liar and cannot hold up his pretense for long, especially when the subject of his teasing is glaring at him with such an adorable pout. (The back of his mind gives a rattle of alarm, wondering when has he begun to think of Lan Wangji, this stubborn boring fuddy-duddy, as adorable. However, he does have long to dwell on that thought before his conscious mind gives it a firm shove back into the subconscious, or at the least, stalling it in the mental space of procrastination, to be pondered upon later.)

"Hm." Lan Wangji lets out an aggrieved huff and turns away from him.

Wei Wuxian softens, leaning forward to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Lan Zhan, all kidding aside, I am glad for you… and proud of you too, if I may be so bold as to assume that I have earned the right to be. Hanguang suits you well. And…I do mean it honestly, Lan Zhan, you are the best of us."

Warm eyes flick up to look at him in surprise, and Wei Wuxian smiles in return. He does not understand those who think Lan Wangji cold and unexpressive. Sure, he may not say very much, but this idiosyncrasy does not make him unfeeling. Even from the early days, Wei Wuxian could tell that Lan Wangji is in fact very opinionated, and everything he does not put to words are expressed with those lovely, almond-shaped eyes. Wei Wuxian cannot claim to be able as adept at reading him as his brother Lan Xichen, but he has grown to appreciate this strange but wonderful man more and more with each passing day.

Life at Cloud Recesses is not what he thought it would be, it's true, and if he says that he doesn’t have regrets, he would be lying. Yet, for all that things have not turned out the way he had hoped, and all that his marriage is not what he dreamed for himself, Wei Wuxian cannot regret that Lan Wangji is now a part of his life. As it is, he can hardly imagine his days without his Lan Zhan and knowing this about him scares him more than he cares to admit. That he now refers to Lan Wangji as "his Lan Zhan" in his mind...well, he doesn't think too hard about that either. 

"I mean it, Lan Zhan. Your brother is tremendously proud of you, and I know there is no one he would rather have succeed him than you.”    

"Thank you, Wei Ying." Ears tinged pink, Lan Wangji averts his eyes and brings his gaze down towards the packages set between them.

Wei Wuxian drags himself out of his melancholy and changes the topic before he can do something he can't take back. "Well, are you going to open it or just stare at it?"

"What is in these?" Lan Wangji tilts his head curiously. There is something about him in moments like these, relaxed, unguarded, and young, that evokes an unspeakable urge inside Wei Wuxian to make him smile.

His treacherous heart gives a little jump. "Why don't you open them and find out?" 

The tips of Lan Wangji's ears darken even more, if that’s even possible. Carefully he unwraps the packages, revealing three different kinds of osthamus pastries. “Wei Ying…”

“I would have made these myself, but I have been told by various disciples that what I make is utterly inedible and close to torture. I know they cannot replace your mother’s osthamus cakes, but I hope you like them.”

Wei Wuxian pushes the first package closer towards him and says, “These are from the town we went to for the night-hunt. There is this little old granny with a pastry stall right outside the inn where we stayed, and she sold these 桂花千层酥 (puff pastry with osthamus filling). Gosh are they good, flaky, and not too sweet. And then I remembered Yunmeng has our own osthamus cake - 藕粉桂花糖糕 - made with lotus root paste -"

" - You went to Yunmeng?"

"Huh?" Wei Wuxia blinks, then chuckles nervously with a sheepish scratch of his head. "No, but I sent courier to Lotus Pier last night, and Jiang Cheng had our fastest disciple deliver fresh ones to Caiyi Town just before dinner." He grins, waving his hand carelessly and dismissing the fact that he had used his sect connections for the sole purpose of expediating food delivery to Lan Zhan from across their regions. "Anyways, speaking of Caiyi town - of course, I couldn't forget your personal favourite, the traditional osthamus cake that Zewu-jun says you only allow yourself to have on special occasions.”

Lan Wangji takes a breath, a Lan precept already on the tip of his tongue. "One must not overly -"

"- indulge, yes, I know, I know, but this isn’t over-indulgence, it’s a special occasion! One only turns twenty once! Now you are truly an adult! " Wei Wuxian picks up a piece of the flakey osthamus cake and holds it out. "Have a taste!"

What happens next should have alarmed both of them, but Wei Wuxian only looks on with joyous anticipation as Lan Wangji leans forward and takes a delicate bite of the cake straight from his hand. Dark lashes flutter close against pale cheeks as he savours the taste quietly, giving in to this one moment of indulgence.

Wei Wuxian does not realize he has been holding his breath until he opens his mouth to speak again. "Is it - is it good?"

"Mn."

"You got a -" He hesitates, one hand hovering in the air, as he aborted the urge to go any further. "Uhm, you've got -"

Realizing his intention, Lan Wangji subtly swipes at the corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue, attempting to get rid of some of the sugar clinging there.

"It's still - uhm - here let me -"

It's not that he doesn’t know that if anyone were to walk in now, this would look very bad indeed, but it is as though some vicious force has possessed and overtaken his self-control. Wei Wuxian reaches out and brushes the sugar crumbs from the corner of Lan Wangji's mouth with his thumb, stroking his bottom lip in the process.   

Lan Wangji's eyes widen in shock, but he does not pull away.  Instead, he holds still and allows Wei Wuxian to finish.

"There. All decent."

Decent? A voice that sounds suspiciously like Jiang Cheng comments in his head. Is there actually anything decent about what you just did?

"Wei Ying.…” A warm hand catches his own.

Wei Wuxian lets him. “Happy birthday, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian! This time, the voice belongs to Madam Yu. This is your xiao-shuzi! What are you doing?! 

He pulls away. “Ah, right then! Onto part two!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear Lan Wangji sigh.

“There is…part two?”

"Well, of course! Everything comes in threes. You didn't think I was going to slack off on your birthday, did you?"

From the depth of his qiankun pouch, Wei Wuxian pulls out two ceramic jars. "Shh, don't tell Uncle."

"Alcohol is forbidden." Lan Wangji frowns.

"This isn't alcohol. It's plum cider," explains Wei Wuxian as spiritual energy flows from his fingertips, golden light coalescing into runes and talismans in thin air, wrapping around the shiny brown ceramic in his hand. Within seconds, gentle steam begins to ascend from the rim, carrying with it the fruity aroma of the beverage within. "Hmm, doesn't that smell lovely, Lan Zhan? I know nothing beats our Emperor’s Smile, but this is very delicious as well. No alcohol, I promise.”

"But what’s that one.” Lan Wangji points to the white ceramic jar that Wei Wuxian purposely neglects to explain.

"Ah…haha yes.” Wei Wuxian pushes the white jar behind him, attempting to protect it. “Alright, you caught me. This one is Emperor's Smile. I …couldn't resist. You won't tell, will you?”

There is at least 50% chance that Lan Wangji will spoil this night and make him copy lines. He is the disciplinary officer of Cloud Recesses after all. But even if Lan Wangji opts to punish him for breaking the rules, Wei Wuxian would not change any part of his current plan. It’s Lan Wangji’s birthday, and for just this night, they should be able to have to a good time. And if that means Wei Wuxian gets planked in the morning for it…well, so be it.

 Lan Wangji lets out a sign of resignation. “Just this once.”

He picks up the warmed bottle of cider just as Wei Wuxian pop open the cork of his Emperor's Smile. Two ceramic jars clink quietly in celebration. 

Worth it indeed.

~~~

Wei Wuxian smacks himself on the forehead.

Emperor’s Smile! Fuck me!

So he may have drunk more than he should last night. But it really wasn’t his fault. He only had one jar. One! Back in the days, one jar could hardly get him started, but he hasn’t drunk a single drop of anything remotely alcoholic in almost a year, except on his wedding day when he was tipsy at best. Even before coming to Cloud Recesses, Madam Yu had banned alcohol for him, insisting that it was “practice” for when he eventually marries into the Lan family.

Man, living with the Lans is seriously making me lose my edge.

What happened after we started drinking?

Right, he had set off the firework talisman – the product of his all-nighter. The talisman was designed to ignite lights like dancing firebugs and butterflies, lingering in the snow-covered garden as though it were the height of summer. Everything had worked out perfectly. Lan Zhan had smiled…

Good…good he liked it.

But what happened next?!

Wei Wuxian wracks his brain, but he just can’t recall the details. He hadn’t slept properly in almost a week, constantly on the look out for danger and keeping the disciples safe. And on their last night out, he stayed up till dawn working on the firework talisman. Then he had made the brilliant decision to drink…

Of course he was gonna get fucked up! He should have anticipated this!

Fuck’s sake, what does it matter now? The rice is cooked. I need to find Lan Zhan and ask him –

Because for him to end up in Lan Wangji’s bed, under the covers, boots off, tucked in, means someone had to haul his dead-ass into Jingshi and put him there. It’s probably Lan Zhan, which is fine, because you know, they’re friends, and this doesn’t have to be a big deal. Alright so he got drunk, which means he might be sentenced to some unpleasant disciplinary action, but he’s a big boy, he can deal with it –

Wei Wuxian heads to the door of Jingshi, ready to flee from the scene of the crime. No - not scene of the crime – because there was no crime. He merely slept over. It was an accident! Nothing happened between him and Lan Zhan, nothing at all –

It’s not like they slept together in the same bed – I mean – it’s not like they shared a bed. No, Lan Wangji would never do that.

But if I slept here…where did Lan Zhan sleep? This is his residence, where – where could he go? Did he…did he…sleep next to me?

I have to get out of here.

Wei Wuxian yanks open the doors and runs headfirst into Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen.

Zewu-jun. The Sect Master of Gusu Lan.

His lord and husband.

Shit.

“Zewu-jun!” Wei Wuxian feels a rock drop to the pit of his stomach. “It’s not – it’s not what it looks like! I didn’t – last night – I – “

But Lan Xichen is smiling. He holds up a calming hand. “Wuxian, it’s alright. Wangji already told me everything.”

Behind his shoulder, Wei Wuxian catches sight of Lan Wangji standing there.

“He…told you?”

“Yes.” Lan Xichen walks into Jingshi as if nothing is wrong. “Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses but seeing that you did it in spirit of celebrating Wangji’s birthday, I’ll let it slide this one time.” Then, inexplicably, he winks. “Just don’t tell Uncle.”

“O-Oh, yes, thank…thank you Zewu-jun. I…ah,” Wei Wuxian scratches the column of his nose, feeling so thrown by the turn of events that it seems almost like an out-of-body experience. “I may have imbibed a little too much. I…I fell asleep. Sorry, Lan Zhan –”

Shit!

Nobody calls Lan Wangji ‘Lan Zhan’, and up until this point, Wei Wuxian has taken care to always refer to him as ‘er-di’ or ‘Wangji’ in front of other people and especially in front of Uncle and Lan Xichen. 

Lan Wangji too, tenses at the familiarity of Wei Wuxian’s address.

Yet, Lan Xichen merely chuckles. “Well, I’ll say. Emperor’s Smile is a very strong liquor indeed. Drink more cautiously next time yes? Or else, my poor little brother will have to sleep on the floor again.”

Wei Wuxian's blush intensifies. So Lan Zhan slept in the same room, but not on the bed. Thank the sky and the earth…   

“You know, I’m so pleased that you two have gotten along so well.” Lan Xichen continues to say. “It’s about high time that Wangji makes some friends his age.”

“Xiongzhang.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t tease.”

Wei Wuxian tries not to gawk. Everyone knows the Twins Jades are close and that Lan Xichen’s brotherly affection for Lan Wangji can only be rivalled by Nie Mingjue’s tolerance (read: indulgence) for Nie Huaisang’s plethora of shenanigans. But even so, Wei Wuxian could not believe the man could react so nonchalantly to his own husband waking up in his little brother’s bed.

Though perhaps…perhaps it’s not so much that Lan Xichen overly trusts and indulges his little brother, but rather that he doesn’t care at all for the man who is his husband.

Ones simply does not become jealous over something that does not matter to oneself.

The thought makes him cold.

“It’s good that you are both here,” Lan Xichen gestures for them to take a seat around the writing desk. “We have much to discuss. Jin Guangshan has finally revealed his ambition.”

The world is big, and Wei Wuxian is just one man. One boy really. That Lan Xichen has other priorities should not surprise him. He is small compared to all that Sect Leader Lan carries on his shoulders.

“Zewu-jun, is it really… the Yin Iron?”

Lan Xichen nods solemnly.

If he cannot earn his husband's affections, then he will have to settle with being useful. Wei Wuxian can do that. He can be useful, and that starts with tucking away his childish hurt. “How can we help?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes linger on him.

He does not see.