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It’s been a week and a half by Lan Wangji’s careful count, and Jiang Wanyin has not returned. Nor has anyone else, for that matter, but given how close Wei Ying and the Jiang sect heir seemed, Lan Wangji cannot help but worry. Could something have happened to the other disciples? The Wen likely said that they all died during a hunt; would they have posted watch on the cave to ensure no one survived? Or was their hubris so great that they would merely assume their lies to be the truth?
He would like to not worry, but at this point it is truly the only thing he can do. Every moment he is awake he is meditating or watching over Wei Ying, sharing his spiritual energy and trying to heal the other boy’s wounds and fever. Lan Wangji’s own wounds remain the same, healing stagnant as he pours his own energy into keeping Wei Ying alive.
He has to be alright. He has to be. They killed a corrupted Xuanwu, a divine beast. The Wei Ying he knows from the guest lectures would not be ended by such a thing; as much as he dislike’s the other’s brashness and occasional arrogance, Wei Ying is almost frighteningly proficient with his sword as he is with his wit. He is more the young master of a sect, an heir, than even Jiang Wanyin is.
Perhaps that is why their relationship always seemed tense to Lan Wangji. Affected by jealousy.
He banishes the thought, reminding himself to not gossip and not think unkind thoughts of his peers. He needs to keep Wei Ying alive, not focus on extraneous details.
In the end, their rescuers are not who he expects.
He expects Yunmeng-Jiang, if he is honest. There is no reason for the Jin to return, and the Nie have more to worry about if rumors from the Wen guards on an impending attack on the Unclean Realm are to be believed.
He is not expecting Wens.
And, of course, his first instinct is to make a stand, fight, try to get himself and Wei Ying out of this hell of an ordeal. There’s only two of them, both wearing grimy, flame-edged robes as they descend down the entrance, and though Lan Wanji is weak and does not have Bichen, he still has one of the swords that a Wen disciple abandoned, extra bowstrings with which he could make a garrote.
“Oh!” A soft voice says, and that is what first gives Lan Wangji pause as slides into a defensive stance, leg twinging in pain. “Lan, Lan-er-gongzi?”
“Who?” he bites out the word, not wavering in his stance.
The Wen steps forward, a light talisman in one hand that reveals a kind, soft face, hands empty of any weapons. “Gongzi,” the other Wen says, and by his tone of voice he’s frowning.
“It’s alright, xiao-shidi,” the first says, not turning from Lan Wangji. He bows, full and formal, and introduces himself, “This one is, is Wen Ning, Wen Qionglin. I, I am not here to hurt you, Lan-er-gongzi.”
“But—” The other starts, and Wen Qionglin turns back to give him a glance.
“Lan, Lan-er-gongzi and Wei, Wei-gongzi have done no wrong,” Wen Qionglin says, kind voice surprisingly stern, “my, my cousin is me-merely petty and wishes harm up-upon them. We, we will see them tr-treated and send, send them away.”
Lan Wangji is dumbstruck, though he had nothing to say anyway. Why is a Wen helping them, after Cloud Recesses and their laughable indoctrination? He tries to keep his mind open, but it simply does not make sense.
“Lan, Lan-er-gongzi, if, if you are amenable,” Wen Qionglin has turned back to him, and keeps his head inclined deferentially, “I, I am trained as a, a healer. I would tr-treat your and Wei, Wei-gongzi’s wounds. Be-before he is moved out, out of the cave.”
The sword in Lan Wangji’s hand quivers, ever so slightly. In truth, he would likely not succeed if he attacked these two, and who knows if there are more waiting outside the entrance of the cave? He’s exhausted, and Wei Ying is not getting any better. He does not leave such things up to luck, normally, but he is willing to take his chance with this soft-spoken boy. He lowers the sword until it points to the stone of the cave floor, but does not release his grip on the hilt.
“Do as you will.”
-
Being in the sun is a glaring novelty, once Wen Qionglin has patched both him and Wei Ying up and they’ve both been carried out of the cave. It’s early in the day, and the sky is clear and beautifully blue. Lan Wangji didn’t realize he missed it.
Wen Qionglin has spent every minute since they made it out over Wei Ying, giving non-stuttered instructions to the disciple who is with him to crush herbs, start a fire, fetch water. He’s focused when he is working, and some of Lan Wangji’s worry settles when he sees it. Whatever his intentions may be, Wen Qionglin knows what he is doing.
It is a quarter shichen before Wen Qionglin sits back from Wei Ying, wiping blood from his hands and sweat from his face. “He, he will recover, but he, he will require rest,” the other boy says to Lan Wangji, a reassurance, “let, let me lo-look at your leg, Lan, Lan-er-gongzi.”
Lan Wangji accepts.
The boy’s touch is gentle but steady as he runs his hands over Lan Wangji’s leg, sending spiritual energy into his meridians to strengthen them, particularly around the break. He packs some of the same poultice used on Wei Ying’s wounds onto Lan Wangji’s as well, and bandages the wounds cleanly before re-splinting his leg. Wen Qionglin’s shidi goes to fetch two horses, likely the ones they arrived on, as Wen Qionglin gives Lan Wangji a pouch of medicine and instructs him on how it should be prepared and how often it should be taken by both of them.
“I, I have heard th-that Yun-Yunmeng is not safe,” Wen Qionglin says, as he and his shidi tie Wei Ying to one horse and Lan Wangji hefts himself onto the other. “I-if you go to, to Qing-Qinghe, you, you should be s-safe. Wen, Wen Xu has no-not left to siege, siege the Unclean Re-Realm yet. I, I have not heard of, of the state of C-Cloud Recesses.”
Something in Lan Wangji’s chest tightens at that, at not knowing if his home is safe. “Thank you,” he bows from the saddle to Wen Qionglin and his shidi, “I, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian owe you our lives. If there is anything we may do to repay that debt, we will do it.”
Normally Lan Wangji would not presume, but he knows that Wei Ying would agree. He heard the other speak, only rarely, of the debt he owed to Jiang Fengmian, and knows that this debt will be one he will take on. But it is a debt they will share. He takes the reins of his horse, and the lead of Wei Ying’s, and turns them away from Dusk Creek Mountain.
They travel and travel and travel, taking game trails and overgrown roads. It is far more bearable than being trapped inside a cave, but it is slow. Wei Ying does not wake by the time that Lan Wangji stops them for the night, still unconscious but less fevered.
Lan Wangji, with nearly a full day of riding and circulating his spiritual energy, feels better than he has since the Wen destroyed his home. He settles the horses and unloads Wei Ying, finding a bedroll packed in one of the bags to tuck him into. Then he continues searching through the bags, finds provisions, a knife with a whetstone, a non-spiritual sword, and more medical supplies. It should be enough to get them to Qinghe, which is a three day ride to the northeast.
He spells a protection ward around Wei Ying, and goes to a nearby creek to wash his hands and face. His robes are in tatters, and Lan Wangji half-wishes that Wen Qionglin had brought some extra sets of clothes for him and Wei Ying, but he reminds himself that the boy likely did not expect to find them alive at all. Neither of them had been in perfect shape going into the Xuanwu’s cave, and after over a week it was understandable that they’d be believed dead.
When his face is clean and his forehead ribbon re-tied, he stares at the reflection of himself in the water. Some of the worry is gone, but in its place is dread. Dread at what he might find has happened to Cloud Recesses. Dread at what news might come of his brother.
Dread for Wei Ying, who still hasn’t woken.
He fetches water and pours some of the ground herbs into it, mixes it well and drinks it down. According to Wen Qionglin, the herb mixture will prevent infections and aid in spiritual energy recovery; whatever it is, it works quickly. More water, and Lan Wangji carefully feeds Wei Ying the mixture as well, doing it slowly so the unconscious boy doesn’t choke.
After, he finds another bedroll in the saddle bags and lays it out, settling in to meditate for some time before he sleeps. Wen Qionglin had cautioned him not to share any more spiritual energy with Wei Ying until the next day, but he could build up his own reserves some until then.
It felt so incredibly comforting, to be able to meditate and circulate his spiritual energy, let it knit together his broken bones and scab over broken skin. When he’s done, he feels strong again; not fully, not without Bichen by his side, but he feels better. More himself.
-
Wei Ying wakes the next morning. There’s a barely perceptible fluctuation of his spiritual energy as Lan Wangji transfers some of his own over, and that’s all the warning Lan Wangji gets before the other boy’s eyes flutter open and he groans, a pained, almost pitiful sound.
Lan Wangji’s heart rabbits in his chest as he almost drops Wei Ying’s wrist. “Wei Ying?” he says, as Wei Ying’s eyes fully open and focus on him.
“Lan Zhan?” his voice is rasping and he looks, understandably, confused.
“Wei Ying,” he can’t help how suddenly raw his voice is.
“Where,” Wei Ying blinks at the sunlight, “what? What happened? How long have I been out?”
“Week and a half,” Lan Wangji says, mentally counts and corrects, “Thirteen days. Wen Qionglin, Wen Ning found us. He assisted us, treated you.”
“Wen Qio—oh, Wen Ning?” Wei Ying asks. He tries to sit up, and Lan Wangji finally releases his wrist to help him. “He helped us?” his voice is wondering.
“Mn.”
“Oh,” even though Wei Ying is still getting his bearings, his eyes show that he is already thinking, considering. He licks his lips, and Lan Wangji can’t help but track the movement, “We owe him a great debt.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji sits back to fetch some of the provisions for Wei Ying to eat. Once he’s eaten and they’ve both taken another helping of the medicine, they can re-mount and continue to Qinghe.
“Where are we?” Wei Ying asks once his mouth is full of dried meat, “Are we going to Cloud Recesses? Lotus Pier?”
“No speaking while eating,” Lan Wangji cannot stop himself from saying, on reflex. Wei Ying stops mid-chew, then laughs loudly.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m so glad your sense of humor is intact,” he teases, “I thought without my glowing presence, it would wither away?”
Lan Wangji barely represses a snort, but does return to Wei Ying’s questions. “We are a day’s ride away from the cave. Northeast. Cloud Recesses is still not safe; Wen Qionglin warned against going to Yunmeng. Qinghe, instead.”
Wei Ying frowned, “But if we can help, we should! I can’t just abandon Lotus Pier!”
“You are not well enough to assist if the Wen come,” Lan Wangji says, and he feels no shame in adding, “Neither am I. We are both wounded, and without our swords.”
That subdues him, but there is still a troubled tilt to his eyebrows. For some reason, Lan Wangji feels the need to placate him further, reassure him as best he can. “We must trust our sects,” he murmurs, and while his primary focus is to reassure Wei Ying, he also knows he is reassuring himself, “because there is not always action that we ourselves may take.”
There is silence between them for a moment, and then Wei Ying again looks at him, a sad but genuine smile on his face, “Thank you, Lan Zhan.”
-
They make it to Qinghe the morning of the next day, after riding long into the night and only stopping for a few hours of sleep and to rest the horses. Being on friendly territory was a respite, and Lan Wangji could see that it eased Wei Ying’s tension as much as it did his own.
The Unclean Realm is garrisoned by Qinghe-Nie cultivators, and Lan Wangji recognizes Nie Zonghui when the other man spots them and calls for the guard to let them through the front gates. The sheer relief that comes over him once they are inside, once Nie Mingjue has clapped him on the shoulder and even drawn him into a relieved hug, is almost overwhelming. Of course; they were thought dead, and Nie Huaisang confirms that when he throws himself at Wei Ying, crying loudly about how the Wen had said he died and he’d even burned money for both of them.
Luckily, Chifeng-zun manages to grab his brother before he can actually run into Wei Ying, because Wei Ying fully looks like he’s going to collapse.
“Come,” Nie Mingjue says, sweeping away with Nie Huaisang in tow, toward the sect grounds and, presumably, the infirmary. “You both need medical care. Wangji, there’s someone who will want to see you.”
-
Xiongzhang is alive, he’s here, in Qinghe, in the Unclean Realm, and regardless of everyone else who has packed into the sickroom he and Wei Ying have been placed in, Lan Wangji throws himself into his brother’s arms and lets himself be held. It strikes him, as his brother’s shoulders shudder under his arms, that just as he thought his xiongzhang to be dead, his xiongzhang thought him dead. He still doesn’t know if their father is alive, or if their uncle is fine, but he has his brother back and that is enough.
They are quickly examined then brought up to speed on the current state of the world. Lotus Pier, as Wen Qionglin had warned, was taken by Wen forces led by Wen Chao. There has been no news from Cloud Recesses, likely because Lan Qiren is still heading a hunt for the remaining Wen in Gusu-Lan. And there was movement on the border between Qinghe-Nie and Qishan-Wen; scouting parties have been spotted, but no larger force has yet come.
“Wen Xu,” Lan Wangji says when Nie Mingjue has wound up his briefing, “we were saved by Wen Qionglin, Wen Ning. He warned that Wen Xu would be attacking Qinghe soon.”
“Wen Qionglin?” xiongzhang is the one to ask, while Chifeng-zun swings between looking furious and confused.
“I met Wen Ning at the archery competition,” Wei Ying pipes up, ignoring the icy look of the Nie doctor as he hefts himself up to sitting, robes open. “He was nice! He definitely would’ve helped us.”
“Against the will of Wen Ruohan?” Nie Mingjue asks, skeptical.
“Hm,” xiongzhang looks thoughtful, “if I remember correctly, Wen Xiuying, Wen-daifu, Wen-zongzhu’s niece, has a younger brother. I believe his courtesy name to be Qionglin.”
“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji interjects before anyone else can say anything, “we owe Wen Qionglin our lives.”
“Jiang Cheng said he would come back, but,” Wei Ying’s voice trails off, and he finally lets the doctor push him back into the bed and resume packing medicine onto his chest.
Lan Wangji picks up where Wei Ying left off, “Nobody returned. Had Wen Qionglin not come, we would have perished within days.”
“And he told you that Wen Xu is approaching Qinghe?” Nie Mingjue asks. His expression has settled on annoyed curiosity, which is something of a relief.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji affirms.
Chifeng-zun exchanges a look with xiongzhang, and gruffly says his goodbyes as xiongzhang leads Lan Wangji to the other bed in the room. “I’ll come in the morning,” xiongzhang says, his familiar fingers smoothing over Lan Wangji’s robes, fresh ones that Nie Huaisang found. They aren’t from Cloud Recesses, but they are a comforting and familiar white-blue. “Rest, didi.”
-
Nie Mingjue still doesn’t lose the slight annoyance even when the information Wen Qionglin provided proves to be correct. Wen Xu is soundly routed and defeated, the cultivators under him, if not fallen, are captured and imprisoned in the Unclean Realm.
There’s no way to contact Wen Qionglin, but privately Lan Wangji hopes that he is well. He did not need to direct them to Qinghe for their own safety, but he did, and taking such a step, when war is on the horizon, is something that neither Lan Wangji nor Wei Ying can or would forget.
Two days after Wen Xu is routed, with Lan Wangji and Wei Ying back to full health, they strike back.
It’s Wei Ying’s idea, of course. Nie Mingjue takes little persuading, because he’s raring to level the playing field after the attacks on Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, and the attempted siege of the Unclean Realm. Xiongzhang insists on accompanying them—Lan Wangji cannot deny that he’s glad to have his brother with them. After all, they are returning to the very supervisory office where the indoctrination took place in order to take back the swords that were taken from them.
Though Xichen is the only one with a spiritual sword, it is laughably easy to take the indoctrination bureau. With no real news of Wen Xu’s defeat, and Wen Chao’s takeover of Lotus Pier, there are fewer guards holding the bureau. When they get in proximity, Lan Wangji can feel Bichen again and his spiritual energy sings, calling his sword back to him.
Wei Ying’s energy reacts the same, and after the two swords crash through a door they are fighting, fluid and perfect in their partnership as they end the lives of the Wen cultivators who try to stop them. They had agreed, on the trip to the bureau, that all of the cultivators there must die; none can be allowed to send word along that the swords have been retrieved in order to buy them some more time and a greater element of surprise.
It is not pleasant work, but it is necessary. By the time they return, flying on their swords and the other swords stowed into a series of qiankun pouches, many of the sect leaders that Chifeng-zun called for a conference in the Unclean Realm have arrived. Their early successes are invigorating; Lan Wangji hears later from his brother that all pledged to assist Qinghe-Nie. The only sects missing were those already decimated by the Wen—smaller sects, the Jiang—and the Jin, though the absence of the Jin is unsurprising. They have always had a closer alliance with Qishan-Wen. But it is also a subtle worry. If they decide not to help, then the Jin might well be their enemy as well.
-
The first time Lan Wangji runs into Jiang Wanyin, close to a month into the Sunshot Campaign, he is with Wei Ying, and it does not go well.
They have returned from scouting, taking care of an outpost of Wen cultivators and intercepting missives detailing troop movements. Xiongzhang, at the beginning, had been reticent to let him take such a role, but their initial success at the indoctrination bureau was enough to convince Nie Mingjue of his and Wei Ying’s skill and usefulness. They did not typically go to the front lines of the fighting, but played an important role nonetheless.
He is not sure of Jiang Wanyin knows this, knows how much trust Chifeng-zun has placed upon them, and guesses that he does not because Jiang Wanyin immediately turns on Wei Ying like a tiger onto its prey.
“You!” Jiang Wanyin growls. His tone is vicious in its fury as he advances on Wei Ying, Zidian crackling on his hand even as he reaches for Sandu. Lan Wangji automatically steps in front of Wei Ying, hand going to Bichen’s hilt as Nie Mingjue stands, a frown already etched on his face.
“What is the meaning of this, Jiang-zongzhu?” Nie Mingjue asks, voice sharp and pointed. The other, smaller sect leaders murmur in confusion. “Wei-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi have already made great contributions to the war effort.”
Jiang Wanyin seethes, but doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes flashing from Lan Wangji’s face to narrow on Wei Ying. “Nie-zongzhu,” he finally growls, but the pause in speaking has not made him any calmer, nor lessened the white-knuckled grip he has on Sandu, “Wei Wuxian is still a part of Yunmeng-Jiang, and he never returned to assist us in our time of need.”
“Begging Jiang-zongzhu’s pardon,” Lan Wangji grits out, “Wei Wuxian and I were trapped within the Xuanwu’s cave and had only just been found when Lotus Pier was attacked. Even had we traveled at top speed, we would have been unable to assist.”
He is deliberate with his words, and they have the intended effect of drawing Jiang Wanyin’s attention to him, instead of Wei Ying. And, thankfully, Nie Mingjue takes that opportunity to step in.
“Jiang-zongzhu, as Lan-er-gongzi has said, they only arrived in Qinghe a day after news of Lotus Pier’s fall came. And they were in no shape to have gone to Lotus Pier to fight an army of Wens,” if possible, his voice is even sharper than earlier, his expression one of growing irritation, “he and Wei-gongzi are the reason you even hold your sword; watch your tongue.”
That ends it, at least for now.
-
Despite Chifeng-zun’s words of warning, the tension between Jiang Wanyin and Wei Ying increases. It seems to perplex the new recruits in the Yunmeng-Jiang camp just as it perplexes Wei Ying himself.
Lan Wangji is cautious.
He has never quite understood the relationship that binds Wei Ying to Yunmeng-Jiang. He was taken in by the Jiang family, by Jiang Fengmian himself, yet has no real position other than that of Head Disciple, and even though he is the Head Disciple, he is treated like a servant. From Jiang Wanyin’s words during that first encounter and, after, the snide comments that Lan Wangji cannot close his ears to, he places an incredible amount of blame for Lotus Pier’s downfall upon Wei Ying’s shoulders—though Wei Ying was not there.
In fact, Lan Wangji knows that there was plenty of time for to Jiang Wanyin to go to Lotus Pier and return to the cave to find them before Wen Chao arrived; why he didn’t is completely unknown. Perhaps Jiang Fengmian forbade it. Perhaps they were too busy preparing—but it seems like there was little resistance to the Wen, with how quickly Lotus Pier fell.
Perhaps, and it isn’t a thought Lan Wangji likes to entertain both due to the rules he’s breaking and the intent it would imply behind Jiang Wanyin’s actions, but perhaps Jiang Wanyin chose not to come back.
The longer the campaign goes on, the longer Lan Wangji finds that he is inclined to believe the last.
-
It is months into the war, after yet another successful raid that Lan Wangji has lead alongside Wei Ying, when Jiang Wanyin corners them as they leave Nie Mingjue’s command tent. He makes to drag Wei Ying away, but a glare from Lan Wangji stops him so he instead tears into his own Head Disciple, his own shixiong, in the middle of the encampment.
Lan Wangji does not pay attention to the vitriol he spews, until he once again blames Wei Ying for the fall of Lotus Pier, and Lan Wangji cannot help but tighten his grip on Bichen’s hilt.
“I know you’re going to ruin Yunmeng-Jiang. You already have,” Jiang Wanyin snarls, and the only thing stopping Lan Wangji from drawing Bichen is Wei Ying’s hand on his, “a servant like you should know your place, Wei Wuxian! Never return to Yunmeng-Jiang or step foot in Lotus Pier again!”
Wei Ying’s hand goes limp, and Lan Wangji releases the grip on Bichen’s hilt to instead take the other’s hand. “Jiang Ch—” Wei Ying starts, already beginning to placate, but Jiang Wanyin only gets closer, nearly right up in his face.
His face is nearly the same purple as his opulent robes, and his voice is, if possible, more venomous as he hisses, “If only you’d had the decency to die in that cave like you should’ve, none of this would’ve happened! I should have returned, if only to see you dead!” That strikes Wei Ying like a physical blow and Lan Wangji nearly as hard. He had chosen not to come back for them, chosen to let them die because of some petty belief—
The only good thing that Jiang Wanyin has the decency to do is sharply turning on his heel and striding off with no backward glance, Zidian crackling violently.
There’s a tense moment of silence, not only between the two of them, but from everyone else in their proximity. Jiang Wanyin had not cared who heard his vitriol.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, squeezing his hand, trying to break him out of the stupor he’d fallen in. Wei Ying comes back to himself, and looks at Lan Wangji with something like pleading in his eyes. “Come,” Lan Wangji says, leading him gently away from the Yunmeng-Jiang section of the encampment to his own quarters.
As sect heir of Gusu-Lan, he’s afforded a tent of his own, and while he is usually thankful for it because he prefers solitude, he finds himself even more thankful that it provides a safe place for him to take Wei Ying. He leads Wei Ying to his bed and pushes him to sit before going to make tea, the movements soothing and settling so he doesn’t say something foolish to Wei Ying.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says again, settling a cup of tea into the other’s hands, which suddenly seem much too cold. He sits next to the other man, has to stop himself from taking one of Wei Ying’s hands and instead settles a hand on the other man’s wrist. “Tell me what you are thinking.”
He has noticed, over the past months, that Wei Ying bottles himself up when his feelings seem too much; he plasters on a veneer of cheer and quashes the brittleness until the mask he shows is genuine. It is difficult for Lan Wangji to address such topics as feelings, but if Lan Wangji does not do this for Wei Ying, he doubts anyone else will. Jiang Yanli remained in Meishan-Yu, Nie Huaisang in the Unclean Realm, and none of the new Jiang disciples are close to their now-former da-shixiong.
“Did he mean it?” Wei Ying asks, voice cracking a little.
“I cannot claim to know what his intention was,” Lan Wangji lets his voice quiet, “words said in anger may merely be said to hurt, but may also be said in truth.” It is, perhaps, not the most comforting thing, but it is something that must be considered. “But Jiang Wanyin is wrong. You are not the reason for Lotus Pier’s ruin; Wen Chao, and those under him, are. You have earned your place in this fight, and,” he hesitates for a moment, long enough for Wei Ying to actually turn to him, “you will always be welcome in Gusu-Lan. In Cloud Recesses.” With me.
-
Their war ends not with a great final battle, but with an assassination and the quiet splintering of the Qishan-Wen sect.
In truth, Lan Wangji is relieved by it.
He never thought a war would come in his lifetime, and one so devastating at that. Lan Wangji, himself, feels as though he has fractured and been fit back together, forever changed and marked by his experiences. It is a feeling that he knows Wei Ying shares, as their orbit remains despite the sects beginning to return to their own lands.
When Wen Qing, Wen Xiuying, asks for their help in keeping her family and others with the Wen name safe, Wei Ying goes.
Though it is strange—and strange in how it hurts—to be parted from Wei Ying after so long together, Lan Wangji helps from his side, using his own position. It takes very little convincing for xiongzhang to accept bringing Wen Qionglin and his family to Gusu-Lan. Nie Mingjue does grumble about it, but even he accepts that, without information from Wen Qionglin at the beginning of the campaign, they likely would’ve been caught off-guard and, in turn, the war would’ve dragged on for months—if not years—longer.
Jiang Wanyin vehemently opposes such a move, for a reason he never articulates. Jin Guangshan pretends for neutrality but the simpering comments he makes are clearly riling in the new Jiang-zongzhu’s favor. They do hold a closer alliance, now that Jiang-guniang is to marry Jin-gongzi, and now that Jiang Wanyin needs the support of Lanling-Jin to rebuild Lotus Pier, but the man’s machinations are strange.
Still, he insists on the creation of a chief cultivator. Lan Wangji does not trust the man.
Nor does he trust the man’s new son, Meng Yao, now Jin Guangyao. Xiongzhang seems to have some history with him, and is fond of him, but Nie Mingjue shares Lan Wangji’s hesitation. Perhaps that is why he backs them in accepting the remaining Wen; perhaps it is simply his sense of justice and respect for the fulfillment of debts.
And Wei Ying—
—Wei Ying comes back to Cloud Recesses with the Wens, a toddler in his arms and his demeanor so fond and relaxed. It is the first time Lan Wangji has seen him as such since before the war.
Lan Wangji is soul-consumingly in love, and he finds that he cannot wait anymore.
-
Their first kiss is in the back hills while a-Yuan plays with the rabbits, soft and warm and everything Lan Wangji has ever hoped for. Wei Ying’s hands tangle behind his neck, in his hair, and his own hands fit on Wei Ying’s waist like they are meant to be there.
“Aiyo, er-gege,” Wei Ying teases when they come up for air, cheeks delightfully pink and breath a little ragged, “taking advantage of me before we’re even married, what would your brother and uncle think?”
“Mn,” Lan Wanji can barely put together a coherent thought, let alone reply, “will marry Wei Ying. Take responsibility.”
Wei Ying’s face flames red, and Lan Wangji can’t stop himself from running his fingers of that soft skin, feeling the heat that he’s brought. “Lan Zhan,” he whines, burying his face into Lan Wangji’s shoulder, “give this poor one some face! Warn me before you say such things, er-gege, this poor one is weak and cannot handle it!”
a-Yuan, seeing them hugging and not including him, takes that moment to run over and headbutt Lan Wangji’s legs. He reaches an arm down to heft the boy up, tucking him in between himself and Wei Ying. “Wei Ying will need to get used to it,” he says, dropping another kiss to the corner of Wei Ying’s reddened lips. He can’t help as his own lips curl up in a smile. Perhaps he is actually thankful to Jiang Wanyin for giving him this opportunity, for not cherishing Wei Ying as much as he deserves.
Wei Ying pouts and pokes a-Yuan’s cheeks until the boy grabs his fingers and doesn’t let go, asks, “Xian-gege angry?”
“Yes, Xian-gege is angry!” Wei Ying says, but Lan Wangji can tell he’s not when their eyes meet above a-Yuan’s head, “Your Rich-gege keeps teasing me!”
“No teasing,” a-Yuan turns to look at Lan Wangji, his eyes sad as he pats Lan Wangji’s face with one small hand, “nice to Xian-gege.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji lets a smile tug his lips as he again looks at Wei Ying, the other man’s face again flushing, “I’ll be nice to your Xian-gege. He’s going to be my husband, after all.”
And if Wei Ying is crying a little when he collapses forward and takes both Lan Wangji and a-Yuan into his arms with a sharp squeeze, Lan Wangji doesn’t mind.