Chapter Text
Beneath the vast night sky, they soared upon their swords, the stars and luminous moon guiding their way through the darkness. Flying beside Lan Zhan was a quiet delight—Wei Wuxian found himself stealing glances every minute, captivated by his husband's graceful posture. The pale blue and white of Lan Zhan’s robes shimmered under the moonlight, lending him the ethereal presence of an immortal traversing the heavens. Even his dark hair, caught in the night breeze, seemed to move with elegant precision—a stark contrast to Wei Wuxian’s own untamed locks.
Unlike Lan Zhan, he neither dressed in pure white nor adorned the signature forehead ribbon. Still, he honoured the Lan Sect’s colours in his own way—his inner robes were white and blue, while silver-embroidered cloud motifs adorned the edges of his dark blue outer robe. Red was ever-present in his attire, adding a touch of defiance and vibrancy to his look. Now, he wore deep crimson under-robes beneath the midnight blue, a deliberate balance of tradition and individuality. He had never been forced to conform to the Lan Sect’s strict dress code, and since no one objected, he saw no reason to. Only in formal settings did he yield, opting for varying shades of blue as a compromise.
They chose to travel through the night, hoping to reach the next town in time to secure a room at the inn. After walking for some time, they mounted their swords, soaring through the tranquil, moonlit sky to hasten their journey. The night was bright, the air warm and still—perfect conditions for flying.
As they neared the town, Wei Wuxian suddenly felt a powerful surge of resentment. The intensity of it nearly threw him off balance. He scanned the surroundings but saw nothing out of the ordinary—though that meant little, given how deeply attuned he had been to resentful energy ever since the Burial Mounds.
"Lan Zhan," he called, his voice sharp with urgency. His husband turned to him at once, immediately sensing the gravity of his tone.
"Resentment. Strong. I can feel it," Wei Wuxian said, pulling out a talisman and activating it. The paper charm flared to life, then shot forward, leading them toward the source of the disturbance. Without hesitation, they followed.
The talisman guided them to a wide clearing near a ravine, where several cultivators were locked in battle against three enormous yaoguai. The signs of exhaustion were clear—their movements sluggish, their expressions strained. Two cultivators already lay motionless on the ground. Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan exchanged a brief glance, then descended into the fray without a word.
Wei Wuxian landed on one side, Lan Zhan on the other. Without hesitation, he flung seven talismans into the air, arranging them into a seven-point array with a swift flick of his fingers. His voice rang out, firm and commanding:
"Fall back toward the treeline! Now!"
The remaining cultivators obeyed instantly—whether out of relief or sheer exhaustion, he couldn’t say. The moment the last one retreated, Wei Wuxian activated the array, trapping the yaoguai before they could pursue their fleeing prey. The creatures howled and thrashed against their confinement, but the barrier held strong.
Without pause, Wei Wuxian drew his dizi, and Lan Zhan his guqin. Together, they began playing—the same song they had once used to exorcise the Xuanwu of Slaughter. The haunting melody filled the clearing, its power pressing down on the monstrous creatures. Enraged, the yaoguai turned their attacks on the ones weakening them, but the array kept them contained.
They played without pause, the music chipping away at the beasts' strength until their furious struggles slowed… then ceased. Their bodies withered, dark energy draining from them, until all that remained was dust scattered on the wind.
Sensing the lingering unrest in the air, Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan shifted their melody, the notes of rest now soft and soothing—a song of release. Slowly, the resentment dissipated, and with it, the restless souls tied to the place. Peace settled over the clearing once more.
Though drained from the long flight and the exorcism, Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan were still far better off than the cultivators they had just aided. As they approached, Wei Wuxian took note of their robes—Meishan Yu.
The leader, a woman in her forties, stepped forward as soon as they were within speaking distance. The moment Wei Wuxian got a proper look at her, recognition flickered in his mind—he had known her in his previous life. She bowed deeply.
"Daozhangs, the Meishan Yu Sect thanks you for your assistance—for quite literally saving our lives. We are in your debt," she said, her voice steady and polite despite her exhaustion.
Wei Wuxian waved off her deference with an easy gesture. "No need to trouble yourself with such things right now," he said lightly. His gaze flickered to the unconscious cultivators. "Is everyone alright?"
The woman studied her people for a moment before giving a firm nod. "Yes. Our wounds will heal, and they will survive."
"Good," Wei Wuxian said, letting out a deep breath. "We should get everyone to safety and tend to their wounds." He gestured toward the unconscious cultivators. "Do you need help carrying them?"
The woman shook her head. "No, we can manage. We have rooms at the inn in town—it’s not far." Then, with a polite inclination of her head, she added, "Please, come with us. At the very least, allow us to thank you with a meal."
Wei Wuxian grinned. "I wouldn’t say no to that. And we were heading that way anyway."
With that, they set off together. Too exhausted to fly, they walked the rest of the way, reaching the town about an hour later.
Upon arrival, they were given a room to rest and invited to join the Meishan Yu cultivators for breakfast the next morning. Wei Wuxian gladly accepted before retreating to their quarters, eager for a bath and to rest for what little remained of the night
"She is Yu Xitian, the heir to the Meishan Yu Sect," Wei Wuxian said as soon as they were inside.
"Mn. I remember her from some cultivation conferences," Lan Zhan agreed.
"I met her at Lotus Pier once when she came with her mother—the real Madam Yu. That woman was terrifying, even more so than her daughter, Yu Ziyuan," Wei Wuxian said with a dramatic shudder. "Yu Xitian was quiet but had a commanding presence. And from that encounter, all I learned was that Yu Ziyuan did not like her older sister."
"Does Yu Ziyuan like anyone?" Lan Zhan asked, his tone as cold and dry as a winter breeze.
Wei Wuxian blinked, then grinned, wide and delighted. "Ah, my dear husband, I will never get used to this side of you. And to think—people say you're boring. If only they knew!" He sighed dramatically, then shot Lan Zhan a pair of lovestruck, exaggeratedly moony eyes.
The next morning, a bit later than usual, Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan entered one of the more private rooms in the inn, designed for discreet meetings.
Yu Xitian stood as they entered, inclining her head politely. Beside her was a young man in his early twenties, his striking resemblance to her making it clear he was likely her son.
"I apologize for not introducing myself earlier," she said with a slight smile. "I suppose last night’s ordeal took a toll on all of us."
She carried herself with quiet confidence and an air of elegance, her presence commanding without being overbearing. Her attire was simple but made of high-quality materials, practical yet refined—ideal for night hunts.
"I am Yu Xitian, heir to the Meishan Yu Sect," she introduced herself matter-of-factly, with neither arrogance nor an air of superiority. "And this is my eldest son, Yu Chengyong. We are very grateful for your assistance." She bowed her head slightly in appreciation.
"Wei Wuxian greets Yu Xitian and Yu Chengyong," Wei Wuxian said, returning the bow with respectful ease.
"Lan Wangji greets Yu Xitian and Yu Chengyong," Lan Zhan added, his bow precise and elegant.
Yu Xitian’s smile deepened. "Ah, I thought as much," she said, her tone warm. "Please, sit and feel at ease. We are among friends here."
With a subtle hand signal, she motioned to a servant waiting by the door. Moments later, food and drinks were brought in and carefully arranged on the large table before them. The servant was dismissed as soon as everything was set.
"Not knowing your preferences, I ordered a bit of everything," she said, gesturing toward the wide array of dishes.
"Do not worry yourself about it, we’re not picky eaters," Wei Wuxian said with an easy smile.
"But you do enjoy good wine, don’t you?" Yu Xitian asked, lifting a large covered ceramic jar with a measured look. "This is one of the finest wines Meishan has to offer." Her sharp gaze settled on him, studying him with unsettling intensity.
Wei Wuxian chuckled, though he couldn't ignore the piercing scrutiny. "Well, who doesn’t like wine, Yu Furen?"
Yu Xitian’s lips curved slightly, but her gaze remained knowing. "Lan Er-gongzi, I know, does not indulge—his strict adherence to clan rules makes that quite clear. But as his husband, I assume you still partake, despite those rules?"
Wei Wuxian hesitated. Was she present at his wedding? He didn’t remember much about that day—it was all a blur of ceremony and emotion.
"Ah, about that…" he started, scratching his nose. "It has been convened that some rules can be bent, considering I am not currently in the Cloud Recesses." He grinned mischievously. Not that he hadn’t bent the rules inside Cloud Recesses as well.
"I am sure it has," Yu Xitian said, giving Wei Wuxian a knowing smile.
"Wei Ying is not forbidden to indulge in things that bring him joy and pleasure," Lan Zhan said, his tone firm and serious.
"Oh, I am sure he is not," she replied, amusement flickering in her eyes. But she let the topic drop with a light clap of her hands. "Enough about that—let us enjoy this magnificent meal."
They did not eat in silence. Conversation flowed easily, light and pleasant, touching on nothing in particular. The atmosphere was warm, and by the time tea was served, Yu Xitian began recounting the events of the previous night.
"It was supposed to be a mid-level yao, not three high-level yaoguai," she said, shaking her head. "I brought a few juniors with me, hoping to expand their experience. Only three senior cultivators accompanied us—one of them being my son."
"Your juniors held their ground remarkably well against such powerful beasts," Wei Wuxian noted. "They were quite impressive."
"Not as impressive as Wei Xiao-jun," she countered, a note of respect in her voice. "I have never seen such a display of skill and power. You are truly remarkable cultivators, Wei Xiao-jun ,Lan Er Gongzi." She smiled at them—not just in gratitude, but with something else.
There was pride in that smile, and it unsettled him. Being proud of one’s son, one’s disciple—that he understood. But pride for a stranger? That was harder to grasp.
"Thank you, Yu Furen," Wei Wuxian said sincerely. "Your praise means a lot to me."
A few moments later, Yu Xitian turned to her son. "Please go check on the juniors," she instructed.
Yu Chengyong nodded, bid them farewell, and left. A dismissal if Wei Wuxian had ever seen one.
Then, Yu Xitian looked at them, her expression contemplative, as if choosing her next words carefully.
"The array you used," she began, "I have never seen anything like it before. Combined with your unique music, it created an incredibly powerful effect." She paused, thoughtful. "Just the two of you managed to exorcise three high-level creatures in about an hour. That is… rare."
Yu Xitian’s expression grew distant, as if she were recalling something from long ago. The faraway look in her eyes softened her features, giving her a more youthful appearance. Then, suddenly, she turned to Wei Wuxian and smiled—a warm, almost fond smile.
Wei Wuxian was taken aback. He blinked, frowning slightly. "Is everything alright, Yu Furen?" he asked, uncertain. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.
"Yes, Wei Wuxian. I am well." She paused for a moment before continuing, her voice gentler. "You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago."
"Really?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Yes," she said, her smile deepening. "Your mother."
Wei Wuxian stared at her, momentarily speechless. She knew my mother?
It wasn’t strange—his parents had travelled widely, and their reputations were well known. But this was yet another high-standing cultivator who had known Cangse Sanren personally. It was becoming a pattern he hadn’t expected.
"We were quite close, actually," Yu Xitian said, her voice laced with nostalgia. "We hunted together a few times—less so after she got married, but we still met occasionally when chance allowed it."
Wei Wuxian leaned forward slightly, eyes alight with curiosity. He loved to hear stories about his mother, and this was someone who had fought alongside her.
"The first time I met you, you were barely a year old—the happiest baby I had ever seen," she continued with a fond smile. "You were absolutely adorable. Of course, now you're a very handsome young man, but as a baby? Simply precious."
Wei Wuxian stared at her expectantly, hanging on to every word. And she did not disappoint.
"After she married that Wei Changze, we only night-hunted together once," Yu Xitian went on. "But she was a fierce cultivator. She might as well have been a Yu—she never knew her own roots, after all. I told her that the Yu clan would have been proud to call her their own."
She took a deep breath, as if sifting through old memories. Then, with a chuckle, she added, "She even impressed my mother in a single meeting. Can you imagine? She actually made my mother take back her words. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but she apologized to Cangse."
Yu Xitian shook her head in astonishment. "I had never seen my mother apologize to anyone before."
Wei Wuxian’s mind drifted back to memories of Yu Zongzhu—the head of the Yu clan. He could still remember her fierce demeanor, a gaze so sharp it felt like it could cut through metal. In his previous life, he had met her only once, during one of her visits to Lotus Pier. Yu Ziyuan had arranged a friendly sparring match between the disciples to impress her mother with the talents of the Jiang sect’s disciples she trained. Wei Wuxian had been paired with Jiang Cheng at the time, and naturally, he had won.
But what stuck with him all these years wasn’t the match itself—it was the piercing, approving look Yu Zongzhu had given him. He had felt both scared and honoured at the same time, knowing how much weight her approval carried. He could still recall the cold, calculating way she watched him, her nod of acknowledgment as minimal as it was significant.
To think that his mother had actually made that woman apologize to her—it was almost impossible to imagine. Wei Wuxian’s respect for his mother only deepened in that moment.
Damn… He thought, a small smile tugging at his lips. My mother was fierce.
Yu Xitian laughed softly, clearly amused by Wei Wuxian's surprise. "She used to call me Tiantian," she continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I hated that nickname. And she always laughed when I protested."
Wei Wuxian froze, his eyes widening in recognition. He had heard that name before. Tiantian. His mother had told him stories about a great cultivator named Tiantian who made monsters quake in fear and men bow before her might. A brilliant and powerful figure who seemed larger than life in his mother’s stories.
"My mother used to tell me stories about a great cultivator named Tiantian," Wei Wuxian said, his smile widening as the pieces fell into place. "She made monsters quake in their skins and men bow in front of her might." He chuckled, clearly fond of the memory. "I loved those stories. Was that you, Yu Furen?"
Yu Xitian’s eyes twinkled, and she nodded, albeit with a touch of irony. "I guess, I was the only Tiantian she knew." She sighed, shaking her head, as if the memories were both fond and slightly exasperating. "God, that woman… She really liked to tease, but not in a mean way. She was always kind and generous, but heaven forbid you stepped on her wrong side..."
She smiled wistfully, her voice softening with admiration. "Fierce, I tell you."
Yu Xitian’s expression softened, a shadow of sorrow passing over her features. "She never backed down from a challenge," she said, her voice tinged with melancholy. "Maybe that was what ultimately brought about her death. She had no sense of self-preservation—fiercely protective, yet willing to take very high risks."
Wei Wuxian, hearing those words, understood all too well. I got that from her, he thought. The reckless courage, the willingness to dive headfirst into danger without a second thought for my own well-being. It had been his mother’s way of living, and it has been his own, too for a long time.
"When I learned about your parents' death, I asked Fengmian if he knew what had happened," Yu Xitian continued, her eyes distant. "He said he was looking for you so I sent a few Yu cultivators to inquire as well, and eventually, I heard you were somewhere in Caiyi, under the care of a local lord. I was relieved, knowing you were being well taken care of."
She paused, her gaze turning a bit more solemn, but with a warmth that touched her words. "Then I attended your wedding to Lan Er-gongzi here. Your mother would have been so proud of you. You looked magnificent—and you seemed very happy."
Wei Wuxian felt a bittersweet wave of emotion wash over him at the thought of his mother’s pride, even if it was no longer something he could receive from her directly. It warmed him, yet reminded him of all that had been lost. He offered Yu Xitian a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," he said softly. "It means a lot to hear that."
Yu Xitian's tone turned sharper as she spoke, a trace of bitterness in her words. "I wish they would have accepted the offer to join our sect after Wei Changze left the Jiangs," she said, shaking her head in disappointment. "But she said no—something about her husband’s loyalty to the Jiangs." She sighed, clearly frustrated. "Stupid, if you ask me. It may seem honourable to everyone, but trust me—Jiang Fengmian is not an honourable man. When he specified that one of the conditions for setting Wei Changze free was that he would never join another sect, that’s not honourable."
Wei Wuxian was taken aback. "What?" he asked, clearly surprised by this revelation.
"Oh yes," Yu Xitian continued, her voice laced with disdain. "That was the condition set forth by Sect Leader Jiang for his friend’s freedom. Trust me, he was no friend to Wei Changze." She shook her head, her tone dripping with contempt.
This explanation suddenly made a lot of sense to Wei Wuxian. It explained the silence from his parents, their reluctance to speak about the Jiangs. It also shed light on the tensions that had remained unspoken all these years.
Yu Xitian's voice softened slightly, but there was still a hint of bitterness. "It’s a good thing you didn’t end up in the Jiang sect. You wouldn’t have fared too well under the rule of that man and my sister."
Although Wei Wuxian had always known about Madam Yu’s animosity toward his mother, he raised an inquisitive brow. "But Madam Yu is a powerful cultivator—no one can deny that. Yet, she hated my mother so much?"
Yu Xitian sighed, her face softening into a more reflective expression. "My sister is a powerful cultivator, yes. But her pride and ego are her greatest weaknesses. She hated your mother because she gained my mother’s approval so easily, while Ziyuan still struggled to gain recognition. It was my mother’s biggest mistake—raising all three of her daughters in such a competitive environment. To Ziyuan, everything was a competition. And if she didn’t win, she became bitter and angry."
Wei Wuxian listened quietly, taking in the complex emotions behind Yu Xitian’s words. There was a mix of resentment, regret, and sorrow there. It seemed that behind the powerful façade of Madam Yu, there had been a deeply competitive and fragile person struggling for validation—a struggle that had undoubtedly shaped the way she viewed his mother.
Yu Xitian’s expression darkened as she continued, her voice laced with regret. "Instead of redirecting that frustration and anger into something constructive, she always blamed everyone else but herself," she said, shaking her head in disappointment. "She never took responsibility for her mistakes, and if you ever pointed that out, you became her enemy instantly" She sighed deeply. "Your mother had no filter, it’s no wonder my sister hated her—especially since Cangse was more popular and well-liked than her."
There was a moment of silence as Yu Xitian collected her thoughts, the weight of the past clearly still pressing on her. Finally, she sighed, her expression softening. "But enough about the past. Come to Meishan sometime," she said, her tone lighter. "I want to see my mother's reaction to you, and I would really like to get to know you better. Now that we’ve met, it would be a shame not to stay in touch."
Wei Wuxian smiled, appreciative of her warmth and sincerity. "It would be our pleasure, Yu Furen. We will make sure to plan a visit to Meishan in the near future," he said, the offer genuine.
The conversation shifted after that, becoming lighter as the meal progressed. However, it didn’t last long, as their duties soon called them to leave for Yiling and then to the Unclean Realm to inform Huaisang about his future training plans. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but reflect on everything he had learned about his parents, particularly the deep complexity of Jiang Fengmian’s actions toward his father for leaving the Jiang sect.
The promise his father made—never to join another sect—was not entirely uncommon, but the context made it more telling. To place such a condition on someone you considered a dear friend only spoke volumes about the superficiality of their relationship. It revealed a possessiveness that spoke more to fear and insecurity than to genuine friendship. Jiang Fengmian’s actions painted a picture of a man who feared losing control, not a friend who wanted the best for his companion. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of disillusionment. Jiang Fengmian wasn’t a friend to Wei Changze—he was just a master who wanted to keep his hold on his disciple.