Chapter Text
“A-Xian.” Jiang Yanli entered the tent with a basket. After the incident with Jin Zixuan had been resolved, she stopped secluding herself in the women’s quarters.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji looked up. Empty plates and bowls were scattered on top of the table. Wei Wuxian was finishing the last spoonful of fish congee when she’d entered.
“Lan-er-gongzi.” She gave a short bow with a basket in her hands.
“Shijie!” Wei Wuxian jumped to his feet to greet her.
Lan Wangji’s eyes landed on the basket. “We’ve eaten.”
“Nonsense Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian helped carry the goods to the table. “I always have room for shijie’s soup.”
Earlier, Hanguang-jun had mentioned incorporating meat dishes for Wei Wuxian to promote weight gain. It was comforting for Jiang Yanli to see her shidi with such a hearty appetite.
“I brought extra bowls. If you aren’t too full you should have some too,” offered Jiang Yanli.
Lan Wangji’s lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Wei Wuxian divvy up the bowls.
“Wei Ying.” He grabbed Wei Wuxian’s wrist to stop him.
“Lan Zhan, I’m fine.” Wei Wuxian pulled his arm loose and began ladling ribs into a bowl. “I’ve been eating Gusu’s bland food for several meals now. Let me indulge a little.”
“Sorry, A-Xian. Shijie was so caught up, I haven’t looked after you properly.” She turned to face Lan Wangji. “Lan-er-gongzi, thank you for taking care of A-Xian.”
“What did Jin Zixuan do anyway?” asked Wei Wuxian.
Their conversation prattled on as Lan Wangji sat in silence. By the end of it, Wei Wuxian happily ate the entire container of soup with Jiang Yanli. Jin Zixuan’s departure had been delayed. Jiang Yanli would be leaving with him the next day. There were still travel preparations that needed to be taken care of, so she left shortly after their meal.
Vomit splashed into a bucket. Wei Wuxian retched repeatedly. Muscles scraped painfully against ribs until his stomach was finally emptied.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji passed him a cup of water.
“Thanks.” Mild water swished in his mouth. His teeth and throat were rough from the burn of acid. The sour stench from the bucket and within his stinging nostrils were unbearable. His stomach heaved again, forcing up water and the remnants of food from his nose.
The cup was refilled several times. When he finished, Lan Wangji handed him a small cloth.
Cleaned, Wei Wuxian lay on the floor with his eyes closed. He was slightly curled and panting heavily. He’d thrown up the entire meal.
This was exactly how Lan Wangji had found him days ago, shortly after the incident with Jin Zixuan. He’d heard gagging and coughing from outside the tent.
The bowls that were left from earlier were still on the table, but Wei Wuxian’s ribs were half-eaten.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji approached and was assaulted by the stench of vomit.
Wei Wuxian shook his head from where he laid. “I’m fine.” Slowly, he sat up and used the back of his hand to wipe his nose and mouth. “I’m just a little queasy.”
The bucket was full of regurgitated broth. There were bits of lotus root and chunks of meat. They’d all eaten Jiang Yanli’s soup. It couldn’t have been food poisoning. Lan Wangji grabbed his wrist to assess him.
“Lan Zhan, I’m fine.” Wei Wuxian’s voice was hoarse from the retching. He struggled to break free.
His pulse was a bit fast, but it was just as he said. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sick. Lan Wangji released him.
Wei Wuxian laughed. “Why are you so worried? I’m not some frail maiden.”
If he wasn’t sick, then why? Lan Wangji’s brain scoured for clues. It took a full day of observation before he finally realized the problem.
He can’t eat meat.
The thought seemed absurd. When they were younger, Wei Wuxian had gone rabbit hunting to escape Gusu’s vegetarian diet.
But after sharing four meals together, it became startlingly apparent. Meat had been incorporated into their dishes to encourage weight gain but every time they ate, Wei Wuxian only picked the surrounding vegetables.
Their meal was lamb soup1 with simple greens as sides. Curious to test his theory, Lan Wangji scooped napa cabbage and fried tofu from the soup into Wei Wuxian’s bowl.
“Thanks, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian beamed a cheery smile. Spicy chili oil was thrown onto the tofu before he dug into his bowl.
Lan Wangji reached again with the ladle and deliberately scooped a large slice of lamb.
It was subtle, but Wei Wuxian’s chopsticks hesitated for a brief moment, and his breath hitched.
The lamb was brought to Lan Wangji’s own bowl. At once, Wei Wuxian’s shoulders relaxed, and he was back to smiling and enjoying dinner. By the end of the meal, Lan Wangji confirmed that Wei Wuxian had not touched a single piece of meat.
The dishes for the next day were altered. They switched to nutritious eggs, tofu, and mianjin2. Wei Wuxian drowned everything in chili oil and didn’t seem to notice the change. At dinner time, there was a simple fish soup with silken tofu and two plates of vegetables.
Lan Wangji watched intently.
Wei Wuxian scooped tofu and bok choy into his bowl. He hesitated for a moment before adding a small nibble of fish. Everything was doused in chili oil. The bit of fish was lifted onto his chopsticks and brought to his mouth. A quick chew, and he swallowed.
It was palatable.
A barely audible sigh, and the corners of Wei Wuxian’s lips curled upwards. He helped himself to a little more fish.
Taking mental notes, Lan Wangji began adding small increments of mild fish to the menu.
“Am I really stupid?” asked Wei Wuxian.
The soft question roused Lan Wangji from his thoughts. Wei Wuxian had just finished vomiting after eating Jiang Yanli’s soup. He was still lying on the floor of the tent.
Lan Wangji shook his head and gently helped the other man up.
Jiang Yanli had been gone for several days because of the incident with Jin Zixuan. When she suddenly appeared with soup, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to disappoint her. He forced himself to eat even though he knew the ribs wouldn’t sit well with him.
“Here.” Lan Wangji opened a small porcelain container with sour dried plums3 inside.
Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m not pregnant. What am I supposed to do with these?”
Ridiculous. Lan Wangji took a small piece and placed it in his mouth.
Seeing the noble Hanguang-jun sucking on a dried plum like a pregnant woman, Wei Wuxian burst into a fit of laughter.
“I confess! We shared the bed a few times. If the baby is mine, I’ll take full responsibility.”
The small candy rolled in Lan Wangji’s mouth. It was such an absurd statement he nearly choked on the plum. A subtle throat clearing reminded Wei Wuxian of the lingering foul taste in his own mouth. The open jar was still in Lan Wangji’s hands. Wei Wuxian helped himself to a dried plum.
Tangy and sweet with a hint of saltiness. It worked well in cleansing the palate.
“Oh no, Lan Zhan. Now we’re both pregnant… Who’s going to take responsibility?”
More nonsense from Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji ignored him and turned to gather dishes and empty the bucket’s foul contents.
***
Far away, in the back mountains of Yunshen Buzhichu, the soft notes of a lone pipa revibrated in the air. There was an occasional snarl from a fierce corpse. They had all been gathered and restrained under a seal in an open field. After some time, the pipa’s song dissipated into the darkness.
The nights passed one after the other. Late one evening, Lan Qiren returned to his quarters.
“Who’s there?” With a quick flick of the wrist, the tent was illuminated. Candlelight reflected from the elder’s freshly drawn blade.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” came a chilling voice.
Across the entrance, on the far side of the tent, Wen Ruohan sat by a low table. Although they were peers, the other man maintained a youthful appearance, frozen in time.
A board for weiqi4 had been arranged beside two bowls of stones. It was one of the few items Lan Qiren salvaged from the remnants of his old study. The Wen leader tilted his head and gestured for the other man to take a seat.
Lan Qiren stood firm, ignoring his invitation. “State your intent.”
“One game? For old time’s sake?” asked Wen Ruohan as he poured a cup of tea for his unwilling host.
A moment passed, and the sword was sheathed. The distance between them closed once Lan Qiren sat.
Wen Ruohan took a sip from his cup and looked expectantly at the other man. With a huff, Lan Qiren lifted the glass and downed his drink in one gulp.
“Consider that as an offering of gratitude for sending my son home.”
After Wen Xu’s death, the Lan elder had arranged for the corpse to be reassembled and transported back to Qishan, a small act of mercy in the midst of war. Wen Xu was a former student at Yunshen Buzhichu. Lan Qiren remembered the young cultivator who arrived for refinement. It was unimaginable that years later, he would become such a monster. His father, Wen Ruohan had also changed beyond recognition.
A tense silence filled the small abode.
“Please, you first.” Wen Ruohan gestured to the bowl of white stones offering Lan Qiren the advantage.5
A small piece was pinched between Lan Qiren’s index and middle finger before being placed near a corner of the board. It was a standard opening typical of the Lan elder. Corners were easiest for marking territory and securing a defense.
It had been years since the two sat for a game. Lan Qiren himself hadn’t touched the board in nearly two decades. His usual playing partner was his brother.
CLICK, CLICK.
More stones joined the board. Weiqi was a game of war. Their moves matched their methodologies. Wen Ruohan played aggressively with no regard for his pawns. After several more stones landed, he broke the silence. “How long do you intend to resist?”
“We will persist until justice prevails.”
“Justice? HA!” scoffed Wen Ruohan. “The world has never been just. It is and has always been that only the strong thrive. Those who obey survive and those who resist perish.” To Wen Ruohan, Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie, and Lanling Jin were ants engaging in a futile battle.
“Better to perish with dignity than linger in an ignoble existence.”
The last piece landed on the board and Wen Ruohan announced the outcome of their game, “You lose.” Although he appeared to play recklessly, each step was calculating, belying their insidious intentions. All casualties were repaid in excess. In a matter of steps, the tides of war had shifted to a resolute victory for black.
Wen Ruohan stood from his seat and spoke, “Since you no longer value your lives, then I will fulfill your wish.” He turned from the table and took a step towards the entryway. “Thank you for returning my son. As an act of gratitude, I will eliminate those brats first. I wish you all a happy reunion in the underworld.” He paused and scoffed, “Dignity…”
Wen Ruohan’s figure dissipated before Lan Qiren could reply.
Astral projection? The creases on Lan Qiren’s brow deepened. Wen Ruohan’s cultivation exceeded the nascent level. Difficult battles lay ahead.
