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Lan Xichen has felt fear many times in his life. When they were no longer allowed to visit their mother's house once a month. When Cloud Recesses went up in flames and he had to abandon his Sect, his people, his family. When he saw Wangji standing defensively with his sword drawn, Wei Wuxian hurt and incoherently screaming behind him. When Wangji actually used his sword against the Lan Elders. When Wangji kneeled to receive 33 whips with no regrets, defying and unremorseful to the end.
But he has never felt as much visceral fear as when he hesitantly relays the message that the Yiling Patriarch had died in the siege, only to see the light in his little brother's eyes extinguish and die.
Lan Xichen watches Wangji gaze into the distance, blank and unresponsive. He can only helplessly watch his little brother shut down, will to live shattered.
Wangji would try his best to follow Wei Wuxian, he is very sure of that. He cannot let that happen.
Unfortunately, the Lan Elders have never been very understanding or perceptive. They call him away to deal with issues he couldn't care less about at a time like this. But then again, the Lans have always placed the sect and its rules over family. Why would now be any different?
When he finally manages to escape and hurry to the jingshi, his heart stops.
Wangji is gone.
•••
He has failed. Wei Ying is dead.
Lan Wangji drags his broken body over the charred ground, the smell of death and smoke rancid in his lungs.
The Burial Mounds have never looked so desolate and dead, and that was saying a lot. He stumbles over the endless blood covering the ground, trying not to gag.
No, no, no.
Wei Ying, please. This can't be true-
WEI YING-
He gasps for breath, feeling it choke in his windpipe, crush his lungs.
Why did I leave when Wei Ying needed me? Why, why, why, WHY-
He trips over the gnarled tree roots, falling to the ground harshly. He feels the wounds in his back tear further open, pain lancing down his spine sharply. He lies there in the dirt, not wanting to move ever again. He thinks if he lays there long enough, he can sink underground and never see the light of day again. He almost wants that.
But then.
He hears a noise. A faint whimper in the distance, soft and reedy.
What was that?
He heaves himself up, struggling to get to his feet. He falls to his knees once, weak and trembling. He feels a morbid sense of amusement, wondering what the Lan Sect would think, what Wei Ying would think to see the pristine Second Jade brought so low, white robes filthy with dirt and blood, wobbling like a newborn calf.
Wei Ying would have laughed, teased him.
He will never be able to tease him again now.
Lan Wangji forcefully pushes painful thoughts from his mind as he moves towards the noise slowly.
He finds a hollow tree stump, and hope catches in his throat when he hears another noise. He falls to his knees in front of the stump, trying to peer through the hole frantically, seeking a flash of something.
He recklessly sticks his hand in, not caring what he found, anything, anything, please anything.
His hand meets warm skin and cloth. He carefully maneuvers whatever it is out, heart in his throat.
A-Yuan.
Little A-Yuan, alive and breathing, hidden away in a rotten tree hole. He is wracked with shivers, unconscious body burning up with fever, but alive.
Alive.
Lan Wangji buries his face in soft hair, clutching the child close as he gives himself a moment to cry.
Loud, painful wracking sobs echo through the Burial Mounds.
••••
Lan Xichen waits, on edge, trying to act normal and waylay any suspicion.
Where could Wangji be?
Surely, he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye..? Not like their mother did?
His fingers tense, nearly ripping his robes. He forcefully unclenches them, trying to calm his breathing.
He jolts when the door of the hanshi is urgently rapped. He slides open the door a bit too quickly to be polite, but thankfully the disciple is too harried to notice.
"S-Sect leader, Hanguang-Jun arrived and entered through the gates! A few of the Elders tried to stop him, demanding to know why he wasn't in seclusion but he ignored them and is making his way over here! His robes are so b-bloody and he seems to be carrying someone so he's walking slowly, but he refused any help!" the disciple pants out.
Lan Xichen nods and waves the disciple away, heart pounding. Carrying a person? Was it possible?
Wei Wuxian?
He waits impatiently at the door, knowing that he wouldn't be able to return to drinking tea and pretending everything was alright.
As Wangji steps into view, it is clear that whomever he is carrying is the size of a child, not an adult. Lan Xichen's breath hitches, half in relief and half in dread.
As Wangji draws up to right in front of him, Lan Xichen feels his eyes burning with relieved tears. It is very small, and very fractured, but some of the light has returned to his little brother's gaze. What happened?
"Xiōng zhǎng," Wangji bows deeply, barely flinching even as his whip wounds start bleeding once more.
Lan Xichen watches helplessly as his brother unwraps his large sleeves from around the burden he carries, revealing an unkempt toddler, eyes closed and face red and sweaty with what was clearly fever.
"My son Lan Yuan," Wangji intones seriously, before collapsing unconscious. Lan Xichen catches them both from hitting the ground and sighs, staring at the child.
Oh, Wangji...
••••
Lan Xichen allows Wangji to keep Lan Yuan, scared of what would happen if he said no.
He is added to the family registry, as Lan Wangji's son and Lan Xichen's current heir.
Uncle had been furious, but had subsided when Lan Xichen had shared his worries. "Wangji is broken, Uncle. Like mother was," he had whispered, causing his uncle's face to fall.
Lan Qiren hadn't said a word after that, clearly remembering what the late Madam Lan had done to herself. For all his flaws, and his uncle had many, Lan Xichen has never doubted that he cared about his nephews in his own way. The meadow of bunnies in the back mountain could attest to that.
Unfortunately, the two of them weren't enough to stop rumours, and Hanguang-Jun's sudden child acquisition is talked about too often for a sect that forbids gossip.
The only saving grace is that only the three of them know that the child is a Wen. The Elders had attempted to interfere, to punish Wangji for breaking seclusion temporarily or perhaps for having a child out of wedlock, but Lan Xichen had refused and offered his own back to be whipped instead. The Elders had subsided, apparently feeling that incapacitating the Sect Leader was a step too far.
Although, Lan Xichen would have willingly taken on any punishment. His little brother had been punished enough for rules Lan Xichen himself wasn't certain about anymore.
Did anyone truly deserve punishment for protecting someone they love? When Lan Xichen looks at Wen Yuan, a child, when he thinks about Wei Wuxian, and the Wen remnants, when he thinks about righteousness and rules, everything is muddled and he cannot gain clarity or peace. 'Who is right and who is wrong? What is black and what is white?' Wangji had dared to question Uncle, and Lan Xichen no longer knows the answers to these questions.
But all it takes is seeing his brother's broken and bleeding body wrapped protectively around a tiny form, soft golden eyes observing the rise and fall of a little chest. It is enough to ignore everything else.
••••
Unfortunately, healing is an uphill battle. Lan Wangji is in no condition to raise a small toddler when he is bed-ridden.
He has no choice but to relinquish his son, his hope, his little light to his older brother. He could not care for A-Yuan's basic necessities like feeding and bathing, when he couldn't even do those for himself.
It feels too uncomfortably familiar, like his own childhood, spent with their uncle instead of their secluded parents. With so much time on his hands, he can do nothing but lay there and mourn for things that should have been, and things that will never be.
Lan Wangji's only silver lining is seeing A-Yuan for a little while everyday.
With the fever robbing his memory, A-Yuan had accepted Lan Wangji as his father easily. Lan Wangji's eyes had burned the first time a sweet, gentle voice chirped out bàba, knowing that he was just an imposter in the place of a man with kind grey eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed.
He is determined to be a good father, one unlike his own father, one that Wei Ying would be proud to see.
He tries his best to shower the child with affection and attention that he wished he himself had as a child, even with the time and health constraints. He indulges him, plays with him and cuddles him, no matter how Xiōng zhǎng fusses and worries about his wounds. He tries not to let grief overcome him, everytime A-Yuan is taken away from the jingshi too soon, in the name of letting him rest.
He does his best to be worthy of the heartwrenching title Bàba that has been bestowed upon him. He has failed so many, that the thought of failing this child now is intolerable.
It would never be enough, but it would have to do.
••••
As the seasons slowly change, and Lan Wangji's wounds close up, his mobility increases.
The Lan Elders have surprisingly not said anything about A-Yuan visiting him in seclusion. Lan Wangji assumes that they are determined to pretend that both the child and himself do not even exist.
The father-son pair start making trips to the rabbit meadow, Lan Yuan excitedly bouncing beside his father even as he is made to walk incredibly slow due to the man's still severely injured back.
His tiny hand would curl around three fingers of Lan Wangji's larger hand, the other hand clutching a little basket of fruits and vegetables for the bunnies.
Lan Wangji would look down at the sweet child skipping beside him, an overwhelming amount of love threatening to drown him.
The first time, they settle under the leafy shade and watch the bunnies slowly inch their way towards them, noses cutely twitching at the scent of food.
Lan Yuan seems already practiced in sitting still, waiting for the bunnies to come to him.
Lan Wangji tries to suppress the bitterness that engulfs him when he realises that A-Yuan has already experienced how to interact and take care of the rabbits with someone that is not him. He comforts himself with the thought that his older brother did a good job, but it is a hollow platitude.
Lan Wangji has missed the opportunity to see Lan Yuan's wide-eyed delight as he met the rabbits for the first time, or the way his excitable squirming and babbling had most likely needed to be calmed in order for the bunnies to come to him. He has missed the way A-Yuan's tiny hand might have shook with nervous anticipation as he fed a fluffball for the first time.
So many moments over the past year that he has missed while stuck in bed, moments he will never get back.
Lan Wangji aches, as he watches an independent Lan Yuan gather a jet black bunny into his palm confidently.
"Bàba! Meet Jiaozi. He's my favourite. Bó Fù helped me name him," A-Yuan says, nuzzling his scrunched nose against the bunny's affectionately.
Lan Wangji's eyes soften with affection. A-Yuan looks just like a little bunny when he scrunches his nose like that. A-Yuan returns his stare with a bright beam, and Lan Wangji is unable to contain the huge amount of joy he feels at this moment.
He begins piling docile balls of fluff onto his son, listening to his giggling and happy squeals as the bunnies tickle him with their soft fur and wet noses.
"Bàba! Hehehe!" he hears ringing through his ears, his son's voice muffled.
He watches A-Yuan happily swim in his bunny pile and tries to drown his feelings of inadequacy with the promise to do better.
••••
Now that Lan Wangji can sit for long periods of time, he insists on Lan Yuan staying in the jingshi with him. Lan Yuan seems fairly ecstatic about this development.
They begin a new routine, where Lan Wangji combs out his son's hair before bed and tucks him in lovingly. As they rise together with the Sun every morning, he arranges A-Yuan's hair again, and dresses him up in tiny white Lan robes. Lan Yuan had questioned once why Bó Fù was no longer doing these duties, but seemed to easily accept the explanation that Lan Wangji was no longer immobile.
He also starts to take over A-Yuan's education in the six arts, namely mathematics, literature and calligraphy.
He is determined to make up for lost time, even though his back still twinges. He gently refuses Xichen's offer to continue helping.
Lan Yuan has improved tremendously in over a year, and his writing is more legible. Lan Wangji makes sure to spend time on writing, and reading, which A-Yuan clearly enjoys.
A-Yuan also enjoys drawing very much. Sometimes, he gets distracted making doodles at the corners of his calligraphy sheets. Lan Wangji never has the heart to scold him to stop and focus. Whenever he see A-Yuan's small tongue poking out, he feels a wave of melancholy as his memory projects another figure onto the child, one with mischievous eyes and a loud boisterous laugh, red ribbon fluttering in the wind.
Lan Wangji keeps every single one of A-Yuan's doodles, even the half-finished discarded ones, in the same box that he keeps the potrait of himself that he had received from his beloved, when he was a student.
A-Yuan seems to find satisfaction in gaining his approval, ending every task by looking at his face searchingly with large adoring eyes.
Lan Wangji feels a moment of grief, wondering if he had ever looked at his own father the same way at that age.
The answer is obviously a no. He rarely caught glimpses of his father, and they had never bonded enough for Lan Wangji to feel adoration.
He finds comfort in knowing that he is here, ready to return A-Yuan's searching looks with firm nods of approval, and the rare indulgent head pats that he imagines his beloved Wei Ying would have doled out in excess.
He gets through each and every day gaining contentment from every small thing A-Yuan does.
He dearly treasures the memory of finally giving A-Yuan his own forehead ribbon, and explaining how only parents, spouses and children can touch it.
He finds peace in the way A-Yuan had squealed in happiness at having matching ribbons with his father. A-Yuan had gotten him to kneel down so that he could pat Lan Wangji's own ribbon excitedly, and it almost feels like closure after the only three people who have ever touched his ribbon, his parents and Wei Ying, are gone.
He still grieves and he's not okay, will probably never be okay, but he can feel his soul slowly mending.
Which is why it hits him hard, when things unexpectedly change for the worse.
As Lan Yuan nears his birthday, Lan Wangji readies himself for a tradition that the Lan Sect honours for every young disciple.
As a sect that places grave emphasis on musical cultivation, the start of a disciple's music journey is always special as it is one of the six arts.
The child's guardian brings them to the revered music hall, where various instruments are on display, gleaming and organised.
The collection is one of the Lan Sect's most precious, after their legendary Library.
It was destroyed when they Cloud Recesses burned, but thankfully has been slowly recovered over the following years.
The young disciples observe the various instruments, and then takes time to decide on which one they will choose to learn.
The tradition is regarded as one of the more important milestones of a disciple's life. The instrument will likely be their spiritual weapon, together with their sword, and will follow them throughout their whole lifetime.
Disciples are urged to pick carefully, and treat the choice as seriously as one would take naming their sword.
Lan Wangji is excited in a way he hasn't been in a very long time.
Over the years growing up, when thinking abstractly about the idea of children, taking his child to the music hall had been the only thing he'd imagined concretely.
It had been the first major disappointment he had experienced in his own life, waiting quietly for either of his parents to make an exception on his special day, but ending up being taken by his uncle instead.
As he grew older, he can understand now why his mother hadn't been able to take him, but thinking of his father still brought a tinge of uncharacteristic bitterness to his tongue.
He had promised himself that he would be there for his own child, and now he can finally fulfil the promise.
"Happy Birthday, A-Yuan."
"Thank you, Bàba!" comes the response, with a beaming grin.
Lan Wangji watches his tiny son with approval as he executes a perfect bow, the very image of a proper Lan disciple.
His face softens with affection and sadness when A-Yuan comes out of the bow, and immediately hugs his leg, giggling.
He remembers the first time A-Yuan had hugged his leg like that.
He only hugs the legs of people he likes, Lan Zhan!
Wei Ying would be happy to see that Lan Yuan still had his warm, lovable personality.
Lan Wangji hadn't been able to bring himself to teach his son with the same cold detachment that he himself, as well as most Lan disciples, were raised with. Stifling A-Yuan's bright personality and cheery laughter is unacceptable to him.
Lan Wangji is content to know that it had not been a mistake. Lan Yuan is one of the most promising disciples they have ever had. Even Uncle and the Elders have begrudgingly admitted to that.
A-Yuan is able to express and process his emotions freely in private without censure, and thus is able to control his emotions and self-regulate in public.
Lan Wangji encourages A-Yuan to think about the reasons behind every rule, and he is able to remember and embody them more effectively because he understands the rules, rather than blindly memorising it.
Those rules that outer and guest discples struggle with, such as waking at 5am and eating without talking, walking slowly and talking softly, all these come easier to A-yuan as he observes his father and attempts to imitate him in adoration. He wants to be just like his Bàba and rarely complains.
As Lan Wangji holds Lan Yuan's small hand and calmly walks towards the music hall, he feels a rare moment of pride. Pride is against the rules, but he cannot help but feel it when he looks at A-Yuan.
You would be so proud of him too Wei Ying, he thinks.
He slowly leads A-Yuan to look at all the different instruments, naming them and explaining how they are played, how they can be used in battle.
He lingers on the guqin, trying not to influence A-Yuan's decision but unable to help hoping that his child will take after him and choose the large string instrument as his musical weapon.
He has so much knowledge he wishes to pass down to his only child.
Unfortunately, his hopes are crushed when on the walk home, Lan Yuan chirps out a bright, "I want to play the flute like Bó Fù!"
Lan Wangji is unable to stop overthinking. He knows he is being ridiculous, he knows, but he can't seem to stop.
His insecurities and feeling of inadequacy come rearing back.
He thinks about Lan Yuan's first year in Cloud Recesses, when he had needed the most care and guidance. His older brother had been a stable rock for the both of them, shouldering the burden of taking care of them.
Lan Wangji might have tried to spend his second year here making up for lost time, but A-Yuan still spends a considerable amount of time in the children's classrooms with Lan Xichen.
Am I an insufficient father? Would A-Yuan be happier under someone else's care?
Things do not get better when Lan Yuan decides that he won't tell Lan Wangji about his final decision on his spiritual instrument. "It's a surprise Bàba! I want to learn to play a song before I tell you!" he is told.
"He is a very determined child. His choice is unconventional, but I'm sure you'll be pleased. Don't worry, I will help him practice for his big reveal," his brother says, laughing gently.
Lan Wangji wonders, and spirals in his misery.
••••
Sadly, things only go downhill from there.
••••
"...Bàba? Can I ask you something?" Lan Yuan asks one day, with his bowl almost empty.
"Finish eating before talking," Lan Wangji says, keeping his voice gentle but firm.
"Mn!" A-Yuan says, head bobbing, before he rushes the last few bites.
Lan Wangji sighs fondly, but doesn't remind him to slow down this time, sensing a sense of urgency from the child to talk.
As they set aside their bowls, Lan Wangji gestures to A-Yuan to proceed.
The child shifts awkwardly, fidgeting with his robes and the silence stretches. Lan Wangji's concern slowly grows with every passing second, but he waits patiently.
Finally, A-Yuan gathers enough courage to lift his head. "Can I move to the disciple dorms, Bàba?"
Lan Wangji's breath catches in his throat, and he feels as though he's been punched in the solar plexus.
He faintly hears A-Yuan babbling about his best friend A-Yi, but he can't quite hear through the ringing in his ears.
It is too soon.
The children of the Lan Sect are only expected to move to the disciple dorms permanently at age 10.
Lan Wangji definitely hadn't been looking forward to it as A-Yuan got older, but he had thought that he'd have more time.
Lan Yuan wasn't ten yet. He was still many years away from ten.
Lan Wangji is helpless. He feels like a boat lost at sea, aimless and drifting. His life has always been ordered, except for Wei Ying, but this time the chaos and unexpectness doesn't give him any joy.
As he focuses on A-Yuan's rambling, he concedes. Socialising with the other children will be helpful for A-Yuan's development. His son has a outgoing, extroverted personality that he himself does not, which he attributes to the influence of Wei Ying, and the large Wen family that A-Yuan cannot remember. Lan Wangji knows that he cannot fulfil all of A-Yuan's needs for interaction on his own.
Lan Yuan can prove himself and befriend the other disciples with freedom.
In the end, he can only give his consent. A-Yuan is old enough to make his own choices.
••••
He finally breaks down one day.
A-Yuan is spending more time in classes, even taking extra music classes. Since moving to the disciple dorms, they can no longer do their morning and night routines. A-Yuan also takes his meals with the other disciples in the main hall.
Lan Wangji rarely sees his son. It has only been a month and he cannot stand it.
All they have left are the trips to the rabbit meadow, and even those are dwindling in number.
As he thinks of the end of his seclusion in several months, he is no longer sure of whether he would like to leave it. The only thing tethering him to this world is A-Yuan and his child seems to be more distant than ever.
He will never forgive his father, but maybe he can understand him. Leaving the safety of solitude seems to be impossible, when there seems to be nothing left for him to come back to.
As he waits for A-Yuan among the soft fluffs of bunnies, he lets his mind wander.
Perhaps he can extend his seclusion after the end of this year...
He snaps back to awareness at the sound of tiny footfalls. He sees A-Yuan's beloved features appear over the crest of the hill as he hurries towards his father. He comes to a stop in front of Lan Wangji, bowing cutely. Lan Wangji feels endeared.
"Bàb-" Lan Yuan stops, uncharacteristically hesitant. Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow in confusion, noticing the child's struggle.
"H-Hanguang-jun.." he finally says instead.
Crack.
Something inside Lan Wangji shatters.
He feels a sharp pain lance through his heart, and even deeper through his soul.
For the first time in a long time, he feels tears track down his face in streams, even as his face stays frozen and unmoving.
He gazes at A-Yuan in disbelief.
The words Hanguang-jun ring through his ears, haunting and unbearable.
Naturally, A-Yuan panics upon seeing the tears.
"Ba- Hanguang- Bàba?!" he stammers, falling to his knees, little palms patting frantically at Lan Wangji's face.
Lan Wangji gathers his tiny body close to his chest, unable to stand the distance.
How could this be happening?
Ah, Wei Ying, I've really let down our son. You would be so disappointed.
To see the day that his precious A-Yuan would no longer consider him his father-
He wishes he could turn back time.
But where did he go wrong? He doesn't have the slightest idea. He is giving himself a migraine with overthinking, and is probably scaring A-Yuan.
He attempts to gather himself together, all the broken and cracked pieces.
He takes deep breaths, and waits for his tears to stop and voice to steady before speaking.
He feels A-Yuan's little hands patting his hair in confusion, and tries to take courage from that.
"A-Yuan..." he starts, "...Am I such a bad father that you won't call me bàba anymore?
A-yuan jolts in surprise, squirming against his father's chest.
Lan Wangji tightens his grip, suddenly fearful that A-Yuan will disappear if he lets go.
"N-No! Bàba no!" he denies, voice tiny and fearful.
Lan Wangji takes deep breaths to calm the sudden maelstrom of emotions threatening to engulf him.
"Then why did you call me Hanguang-jun A-Yuan?" he questions gently, as he forces himself to lean back away from A-Yuan.
He is admittedly relieved when A-Yuan stays on his lap, big eyes tearfully gazing at him.
"Elder L-Lan Qinzi said that calling you Bàba was bad for your r-reputation... A-And I needed to be more professional now that I agreed to move to the disciple dorms..." A-Yuan struggles to get out, face scrunching up in a clear effort not to sob.
Lan Wangji is shocked speechless. He definitely had not expected to hear anything like that.
He repeats the words in his head, trying to work through his confusion.
He feels his shock slowly morphing to disbelief as the situation starts becoming slightly clearer. He attempts to curb down his turbulent emotions so that he can find out more.
"I would like you to start at the beginning, A-Yuan. Rule number 351," Lan Wangji says softly, patting A-Yuan's hair lovingly.
"Rule 351, speak clearly so that others can understand you," A-Yuan recites, breathing in and out deeply as he visibly calms down, taking comfort in the familiarity.
Lan Wangji rearranges the both of them, letting A-Yuan curl up on his chest and hug one of the more docile bunnies.
The story comes out in bits and pieces, A-Yuan trying his best to get the events in order.
"The past two months... the Elders have been talking to me... They asked me not to tell you.. Rule 57, respect your elders," A-yuan says, turning to blink at Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji feels the embers of anger start to stir. Telling his child to keep secrets from him... Unacceptable. He has always had a feeling that most members of the Lan Sect pick and choose the rules they want to follow, not held up to the same unattainable standard as the Twin Jades, but this is beyond what he expected.
He nods at A-Yuan to continue.
A-Yuan starts patting the bunny in his hands anxiously. "After my birthday, they said that I was old enough to learn to be i-independent. At my age, bàba was already living in the dorms and at the top of his classes they said. And...And I wanted to be just like bàba! To make him proud..." A-yuan trails off, chin starting to tremble.
Lan Wangji can barely breathe through the fury.
He had chosen to move to the disciple dorms early because he was practically an orphan, separated from his parents and dumped onto an uncle who had clearly never planned or prepared to deal with children. He had run himself ragged trying to be the best in his class in the foolish hope that his efforts would be acknowledged and rewarded with the chance to see his mother more often.
It had not been the choices of a child eager to improve, for the sake of bettering themselves.
It had been the choices of a grieving child, close to depression, desperate to please the people around him.
For the Elders to use that to manipulate his son, for them to omit important details...
It makes him furious, but more than that breaks his heart.
He had never been a happy child. He had been lonely, withdrawn and sad.
For the Elders to want his son to take the same path as him, just for the chance of another perfect child prodigy... No, he cannot accept this.
He cuddles A-Yuan closer, suddenly feeling remorseful that he hadn't thought to talk more with his son about the decisions he has made in the last two months. Surely he should have checked if A-Yuan was completely sure about his choices? Hasn't he already learned about the negative consequences that lack of communication can cause?
"A-Yuan... Bàba will always be proud of you. No matter what," Lan Wangji says seriously.
His heart clenches when A-Yuan shoots him a tremulous smile, eyes shiny with tears and innocent joy.
"Thank you Bàba... But..." A-Yuan hesitates.
Lan Wangji nods encouragingly, heart pounding. He has a bad feeling that the story will get worse.
"Today, they said I shouldn't call Bàba, bàba anymore...especially when he leaves seclusion...Because his reputation will suffer if people find out he has a child but isn't married...Hanguang-jun isn't really Lan Yuan's father anyway," A-Yuan finishes, trembling, clearly repeating something that has been told to him.
Lan Wangji feels his temper flare, grinding his teeth.
How dare they.
He lifts A-Yuan to face him, cupping his face.
"You will always be my son. No matter if you call me Bàba, or Hanguang-jun, whether you live in the jingshi or the disciple dorms, if you are at the top or bottom of your classes. A-Yuan is my son, and I love you. No one can take that from us," Lan Wangji says fiercely.
He sees A-Yuan's mouth fall open and feels a little amusement. This is likely the longest and most impassioned that A-Yuan has ever heard him talk.
The amusement dies when A-Yuan buries his small head onto his broad chest and starts sobbing.
Lan Wangji can only rub the child's back as his tiny body jerks with the force of his cries, his own eyes burning as well.
I need to fix this.
As A-Yuan's sobbing slowly slows into sniffles, Lan Wangji decides to start by just asking.
"A-Yuan. Do you want to stay in the disciple dorms, and also call me Hanguang-jun? It's up to your own choice, remember," he asks gently.
"I want to stay with you in the jingshi as long as I can Bàba! A-Yuan really missed you," A-Yuan giggles, already cheering up.
"And I think I'll call Bàba bàba when we're alone and Hanguang-jun to other people...A-Yi calls Bó Fù as Zewu-Jun and I don't want to make him sad that he doesn't have a Bàba," A-Yuan pouts.
Lan Wangi lips quirk up at the child-like logic, wondering about this A-Yi. Did his brother adopt a kid too?
No matter what, his heart feels lighter than it's been in two months. He's still A-Yuan's Bàba, and that won't change, all his insecurities aside.
It's time that everyone else knows that too.
••••
"Wangji?!" Lan Xichen jerks, not expecting to see his little brother standing in his doorway halfway through doing his paperwork.
Wangji looks grave (more than usual), the adorable visual of A-Yuan napping on his shoulder doing nothing to detract from his severe expression.
Lan Xichen sees the tear tracks on the chubby cheeks of his nephew and feels a wave of ominous feelings.
"Xiōng zhǎng. I would like to speak with the Elders today before returning to seclusion," Wangji says seriously.
Lan Xichen can already feel a migraine coming on.
"What is the meaning of this, Hanguang-jun? You are meant to be in seclusion," Elder Luo Ye wastes no time in admonishing.
Lan Xichen stands to side with his uncle, nervously watching a kneeling Wangji facing a semicircle of elders looking down their noses at him. It feels too much like the time Wangji's punishment of 33 whips was decided, and he cannot help but feel uncomfortable with the situation.
Wangji straightens even further, looking imposing and regal even on his knees. A-Yuan is held closely against his chest, clearly exhausted, but large eyes peeking out.
"Wangji would like the Elders to listen carefully," his brother starts calmly, and Lan Xichen already knows this isn't going to go well.
"I learned that the Elders have been talking to A-Yuan and telling him not to tell me about these meetings. I would like to state that this is unacceptable. Making children keep secrets is unethical, and I will not tolerate this. This will not happen ever again."
Lan Xichen can feel his heart pounding. He has never heard his brother talk so much at once, and the things he's saying...
His fists clench as he sees the Elders turn red with rage, speechless. They sputter with indignation but none object outright to the accusation and Lan Xichen is appalled.
"Secondly, A-Yuan has been told that he needs to move to the disciple dorms now to follow in his father's footsteps and make him proud.
He was not told that his father was more or less an orphan at his age. Rule number 457, omission of information is still considered lying."
"Lan Wangji-" an Elder chokes out, enraged.
Wangji continues, undeterred.
"A-Yuan will be staying in the jingshi until he is 10, or until he chooses to leave himself, whichever comes first."
"Lastly A-Yuan has been told to call me Hanguang-jun, as apparently I am not his father anyway," Wangji's eyes darken and Lan Xichen can barely breathe through the shock. A glance to the left shows Uncle's face pale and lips press tight.
"Rule 5, lying in the Cloud Recesses is forbidden. I am Lan Yuan's father, and no one will ever change that. No one should have ever tried, " Wangji says, cold anger clear in his expression.
The hall has descended into a tense, frosty silence. They watch A-Yuan, a trembling smile spreads across his face as he gazes at his father in adoration.
Lan Xichen can barely breathe in the tension.
"What my son calls me is no one's business but ours. Elders, I have always done my best to follow the rules and repented when I did not.
Even now I kneel before you with 33 slashes on my back and months of seclusion still ahead of me. The Lan Sect and rules have always been important to me.
But if anyone disrespects the rules again, if anyone disrespects my son, and our relationship by attempting to manipulate him, I will not hesitate to throw away my forehead ribbon and renounce my place in the Lan Sect," Wangji finishes.
Lan Xichen is shaking, and the only thing holding him up is the wall behind him.
"Lan Wangji, you would dare-" an Elder snarls.
Lan Xichen steps forward, hand raised for silence. He is suddenly so angry, and so very disappointed.
"Is all this true, Elders?" he questions.
He watches the Elders shift uncomfortably under his piercing gaze.
"We were acting in the best interests of Hanguang-jun's reputation and that of the sect, Sect Leader Lan," Elder Lan Yao speaks up, sniffing in contempt.
"By breaking our Sect Rules? And not consulting the Sect Leader?" Uncle bursts out, clearly agitated and unable to keep the heavy disappointment from his tone. Lan Xichen sees a few of the Elders stiffen and clench their teeth, shifting their glares to Wangji instead.
He can't help but turn as well. "Wangji... I'm sorry I didn't realise what was happening..."
He sees A-Yuan's watery eyes turn to him and feels as though he's failed them both.
"But leaving the Sect...?" he can't help but ask, desperate.
"A-Yuan is the most important thing, Xiōng zhǎng. I thought he would be safe in the Cloud Recesses with all the rules, but if the rules are not going to be adhered to, I would rather take A-Yuan elsewhere," Wangji says firmly.
Lan Xichen watches A-Yuan shift, nuzzling into his father's shoulder for comfort. Wangji rises gracefully.
"I will put A-Yuan to bed in the jingshi. Sect Leader Lan. Elders. Uncle."
He bows as deep as he can to all of them, although the show of respect seems to frustrate the Elders even more.
As Wangji glides out of the hall, Lan Xichen turns back to the Elders, gaze turning steely.
"Wangji is right. We have rules for a reason. If I cannot trust my own council to uphold our rules, then it is clear to me that it is time to make changes," he says smiling pleasantly enough to send chills down everyone's spines.
••••
Lan Wangji cannot help but blink, dumbfounded.
"You dissolved the council?" he questions.
Xiōng zhǎng smiles at him in amusement from across the low jingshi table. "No, Wangji. I'm replacing them as punishment for breaking the rules and conspiring against my heir."
If Lan Wangji wasn't...well, him, he would have whooped with joy, perhaps even tackled his brother in a hug.
As it is, his lips twitch, pleased at this development.
"You've looked so happy ever since A-Yuan came into your life... For the Elders, to meddle with that is.. very upsetting."
Lan Wangji hesitates, before deciding to unburden himself.
A-Yuan has taught him how to be more open and verbal with his thoughts and emotions. Besides, he knows that xiōng zhǎng will not judge him.
"I was worried that I was a bad father. With him wanting to move away and not call me Bàba anymore," Lan Wangji confesses.
Xiōng zhǎng's eyes soften with both affection and remembered grief.
"Oh Wangji. You've always been there for him when he needed. You won't become like our father, I can assure you," he comforts.
"I was even jealous that he chose to learn your music instrument. I worried that you would be a better father for him, especially after his first year here," Lan Wangji whispers, feeling a weight off his chest at finally admitting to his insecurities, even with the inevitable embarrassment that comes with it.
He sees Xiōng zhǎng's eyes widen, taken aback.
"...I could never replace you, I'm sure you know that now. However, my musical instrument? I don't think I know what you mean," his brother blinks in confusion.
Lan Wangji blinks back.
"I know it's supposed to be a surprise, but A-Yuan mentioned wanting to learn a flute like Bó Fù...?" he replies.
Xiōng zhǎng nods slowly.
"After the both of you returned from the music hall, he did approach me after having heard that I play the flute and if he could see it.
However, he told me it felt wrong... I think I'll let A-Yuan show you what I mean himself," Xichen smiles teasingly.
Lan Wangji nods, still uncomprehending, but willing to wait.
They finish their tea peacefully, and Lan Wangji feels happier than he's been in some time.
••••
Lan Wangji combs A-Yuan's slowly, enjoying the return to the routine.
He finds that one appreciates things more when they've almost lost it.
He ties off A-Yuan's ribbon and turns the child to face him.
"A-Yuan...Bàba would like to see your choice of musical instrument," he starts gently.
A-Yuan's eyes widen.
"But I'm not done learning a song Bàba!" he replies, distressed.
Lan Wangji smiles affectionately.
"You know you don't have to rush that. It would make Bàba happy to see your chosen instrument though," he says, patting A-Yuan's small shoulders.
A-Yuan heaves a dramatic sigh, lips pushed out in a cute frown.
Lan Wangji raises his eyebrows in expectation, used to such dramatics from Wei Ying. That thought doesn't bring his heart as much pain as it used to.
A-Yuan pouts at him, before going to the disciple dorms to gather his instrument.
Lan Wangji settles at the low table while he waits, placing his own guqin on the table.
He's found his peace with whatever A-Yuan's decision is.
They might not play the same instrument, but they can still enjoy music together.
He watches with slight amusement as A-Yuan stumbles into the jingshi, out of breath and slightly red in the face. He seems to be juggling multiple things.
He sets them on the table heavily before collapsing at the table, huffing and puffing.
Lan Wangji stifles a laugh.
His smile fades into shock when A-Yuan unwraps the oil cloth from his packages.
There is a small child-sized guqin.
And there is a dizi.
Lan Wangji feels his breath catch in his throat. He hears A-Yuan start to talk excitedly, even though he cannot tear his eyes away from the instruments.
"I wanted to be just like Bàba so I chose the guqin. It sounds nice and Bàba always looks so cool!" A-Yuan giggles.
"But I really wanted to play the flute too! It feels familiar and I keep hearing it in my dreams. I asked Bó Fù but his wasn't the same, so he let me see all the flutes in the music hall again until we found the right one.
Having two instruments isn't common and Bó Fù tried to get me to pick another one but I was sure," A-Yuan nods firmly, bright smile stretching across his face.
Lan Wangji closes his eyes against the sudden burn of tears, and odd mixture of grief and relief stuck in his throat.
That A-Yuan does not remember his Xian-gege, but remembers his dizi...
It feels like stretching a sore muscle, painful but satisfying, to know that he isn't the only one left to remember Wei Ying fondly.
A-Yuan's memory is incomplete, but it is a memory all the same.
It feels poetic, for A-Yuan to learn the instruments of the two men who loved him the most in this world.
He opens his eyes, hoping A-Yuan doesn't notice the sheen of tears.
"Those are very good choices A-Yuan. Do you want to show me what you've learned so far?"
"Mn!" A-Yuan's head bobs, as he chooses to pick up the dizi first, tongue sticking out as he carefully postions his fingers over the holes in the flute.
Lan Wangji can only watch on, and overwhelming amount of love filling his heart and soul.
Ah Wei Ying, if only you could see our son now.
You would be so pleased.
He feels a breeze rush through the jingshi, swirling around the two of them, and it almost feels like an agreement.