Work Text:
Lan Qiren is the last to admit that he’s not the person who knows the best for his nephews, because that would be false and inaccurate.
This firmly held belief of his threatens to be shaken for the first time in his life one day when Lan Xichen looks very pleased with himself for mysterious reasons. When asked, Lan Xichen mysteriously responds, “Shufu, doesn’t Wangji seem high-spirited lately?”
And yes, now that Lan Xichen’s mentioned it, Lan Qiren has noticed as well. Perhaps the recent conference hosted at Cloud Recesses that brought the different sects together for knowledge sharing has invigorated his younger nephew. Lan Qiren was certainly interested in Baling Ouyang sect’s findings on the medicinal properties of a previously well-known poison when diluted, and—
“I believe he’s made a friend,” Lan Xichen continues, beaming proudly. “He seems quite taken with a young gongzi from the Yunmeng Jiang sect. Wei Wuxian, was it?”
Lan Qiren’s mind halts. His pulse rises.
“No,” he lets out, horrified.
That horrible, evil, wretched Cangse Sanren.
First tormenting Lan Qiren during their acquainted times, and now sending her equally, if not more, horrible offspring out into the world to get his horrid grubby hands all over Lan Wangji. May she be at rest, and also be rotting in Diyu for the amount of damage she’s doing to Lan Qiren’s well-being even beyond the Naihe bridge. He can practically still hear her laughter obnoxiously ringing in his ears.
Lan Qiren sighs, massaging the side of his temple in hopes that it would ease the tension headache arisen since Lan Xichen’s remarks.
Surely Lan Xichen is mistaken about this. Lan Qiren understands Lan Xichen’s desire for Lan Wangji to have peers to get along with—it isn’t as if Lan Qiren didn’t have the same worries when Lan Wangji was younger. But Lan Wangji’s grown into a fine young man since, and certainly in no thanks to being around the likes of someone so unorthodox and—and crass like Wei Wuxian.
Lan Qiren’s head still spins the moment he thinks back to the first day of the conference and how, in front of all of the cultivation world, Wei Wuxian suggested that resentful energy has much untapped potential that could be utilized to cultivators’ benefits, showcasing—trinkets that he’s made. The nerves, truly!
Lan Qiren huffs with a shake of his head. Not even Cangse Sanren was this wild when she was alive. But perhaps it was only that she hadn’t had the chance before she passed. Lan Qiren wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
To be completely truthful, Lan Qiren had been mildly curious to meet him properly for years—the way an old friend wonders about another who lives far away—ever since he learned of Wei Wuxian’s existence at the same time as Cangse Sanren’s death, and how no other than Jiang Fengmian himself took him back to the Yunmeng Jiang sect.
And now that Lan Qiren’s met him…
Lan Qiren tuts his tongue.
He supposes that in comparison to Cangse Sanren, he should be thankful that at least Wei Wuxian hadn’t whisked Lan Wangji away and run away together on the spot.
Much to Lan Qiren’s dismay, he starts to see what Lan Xichen meant.
It’s the second time that Lan Qiren’s laid his eyes on Wei Wuxian proper—the Qishan Nie sect is hosting a friendly week-long sword arts tournament—and this time, he spots him standing side by side with Lan Wangji and… interacting together. From where Lan Qiren sits with the rest of the spectators, he isn’t able to make out what they’re saying to each other, only that Wei Wuxian’s teasing grin hangs off his lips (a mirror of his mother, truly) and Lan Wangji… looks at him in a certain way that sets off every alarm gongs in Lan Qiren’s head.
Since when have they become so well-acquainted to the point that Lan Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian with such… such familiarity? Granted, Lan Wangji looks like he’s about to pull his sword out and cut Wei Wuxian down, but the fact that Wei Wuxian could illicit such behavior from Lan Wangji at all is…
Lan Qiren suppresses the urge to grab a stick and physically pry them apart, and takes a deep breath. Nothing’s happened. And if nothing else, he should trust in Lan Wangji. He’s always been an outstanding student and an impeccable young man. Perhaps Lan Xichen’s words have gotten to him, and Lan Qiren is reading too much into this
Yes. Lan Qiren relaxes. That’s right.
Lan Wangji would never make such a hasty choice.
Later that week, Lan Qiren strolls around the Qishan Nie sect’s garden in between the matches. While the garden doesn’t appeal to his taste for a simpler yet elegant style, Nie-zongzhu’s younger brother Nie Huaisang has done an excellent job making the garden enjoyable without making it gaudy.
Lan Qiren recalls the Jin sect’s ostentatious garden that he witnessed while attending a wedding—between the newly appointed zongzhu of the Lanling Jin sect and the firstborn of the Yunmeng Jiang sect—and shakes his head. At least the couple looked happy even if their marriage had been delayed for an appropriate amount of years after Jin Guangshan died choking on a fish bone. Lan Qiren was glad for the union, signifying some regained sense of stability in the cultivation society.
His thoughts drift back to his own family matters. Lan Xichen is older than Jin Zixuan, yet he still shows no interest in matters such as a marriage. It’s not an uncommon trait for cultivators—like Lan Qiren himself or Lan Wangji, solely focused on honing their cultivation to always improve for the better—but as a zongzhu of a sect, Lan Qiren wonders if an arranged marriage may have to be introduced in Lan Xichen’s future.
Perhaps it’s for the best. With his nephews’ history of… having witnessed their parents, a marriage that involves such unpredictable emotion like love may not be the most appealing for either of them. With an arranged marriage, there is the comforting prospect of companionship without the uncomfortable association of high irrational emotions. Of course, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji will always have each other—and the Gusu Lan sect—to rely on, but after Lan Qiren is gone one day, it would comfort him to know that his nephews’ circle of support is beyond the scope of the Gusu Lan sect. No matter how self-sufficient they are, one cannot survive alone in this world.
“—Zhan, what do you think?”
Lan Qiren halts just as he turns into a corner that obscures him behind some pines. He means to leave—he makes it no habit of his to eavesdrop on his nephew—but Lan Qiren finds that his feet are suddenly heavy, frozen in his spot as he tries to clue in on the conversation. It feels crucial somehow as if Lan Qiren’s own life depends on it.
Mainly in that apparently, Wei Wuxian has been calling Lan Wangji by his birth name, and Lan Wangji has been allowing such familiarity.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji intones.
…And apparently, his nephew has been using Wei Wuxian’s birth name in return.
“What, why are you looking at me like that?” Wei Wuxian continues happily. “I think it’s a fair trade, isn’t it?”
“One must not partake in gambling,” Lan Wangji’s voice responds.
Despite himself, Lan Qiren nods in approval.
“Who said anything about gambling? I’m just being rewarded for my genuine efforts. After all, beating Hanguang-jun in a duel should grant me such a good prize.”
Oh. So it was just about the upcoming duel between them in the tournament. Lan Qiren shakes his head at himself. Though it was still presumptuous of Wei Wuxian to demand a reward from Lan Wangji, it was improper of Lan Qiren to suspect anything untoward. Like anything in life, sometimes even his own good senses can fail him.
Lan Qiren starts to leave, his moods lifted to a humorous point at his own cautiousness when his ears perk up at Wei Wuxian’s next sentence.
“So, Lan Zhan, we’re in agreement?” Wei Wuxian asks deviously. “You’ll let me touch your forehead ribbon properly if I win? You won’t get mad at me for it anymore?”
Lan Qiren’s head whips around.
This—this…
This—
Villainous, heinous, fiendish—!!
Wei Wuxian—!!!!!!!
“And you?”
It’s as if someone’s thrown a bucket of ice water at Lan Qiren’s head. Before Lan Qiren’s mind can comprehend exactly what he heard, Wei Wuxian continues, “Hm? What about me?”
“If I win?” Lan Wangji continues, confirming that Lan Qiren hadn’t hallucinated the previous words.
“…Hah?” After a moment of mulling over this, Wei Wuxian says, “You mean, you want something from me specifically? Lan Zhan, I’m dirt poor! If there’s something I can do for you, I’ll do that instead. I’m a man of my words.” Wei Wuxian hums coyly. “Lan Zhan, what would you like me to do for you?”
“What,” Lan Qiren nearly yells as he bursts into the scene, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Shufu.”
“Wangji. Sit.”
Lan Wangji sits. Lan Qiren strokes his beard, just short of ripping it off his face. He’s had some time to calm down between then and now, having dragged Lan Wangji back to the guest quarters with him and leaving that scandalous Wei Wuxian in their dust. He must have this conversation with a calm mind as well.
“I suspect that you already know why we’re here,” says Lan Qiren as calmly as he can, massaging between his furrowed brows.
Lan Wangji silently pours a cup of tea for Lan Qiren, then for himself, keeping his eyes on the tea ware.
“Well?” Lan Qiren prompts impatiently, feeling like ants are crawling under his clothes. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Lan Wangji’s throat bobs.
“I will receive any punishment you see fit,” Lan Wangji finally says, quiet and determined.
“And then?”
Lan Wangji looks up at this unexpected remark, a crack appearing in his composure. Confused, he asks, “Shufu?”
“And then?” Lan Qiren asks again, feeling hysterical. “What will you do? Can you swear to me that you will be able to compose yourself from now on? Can you promise that you will never—” Lan Qiren struggles for words, finally settling on, “—consider Wei Wuxian in such a manner again?”
Lan Wangji takes this in, surely shocked at this new side of Lan Qiren that he’d never seen before. Lan Qiren is also shocked with himself, but he’s livid and not necessarily thinking with a calm rational mind right now.
After a moment, Lan Wangji finally looks at him in the eyes again, unwavering. It’s confirmation enough, and for a split moment, Lan Qiren feels all of his blood rush out of his head and he feels faint. So much despair well up from his chest that he chokes on his own breath.
“No. I will not allow it.”
“Shufu—”
“No. Absolutely not! You cannot be serious about this. I will not stand by and watch you ruin your life! I taught you better than this! Wei Ying is—is—”
A scoundrel, a menace, a future hazard to society—
Lan Wangji squares his jaw, his eyes downcast, and Lan Qiren feels a terrible chill down his spine.
He’s seen this look before. He knows that look.
It’s then that the gong sounds to indicate the beginning of the next set of matches in the tournament. Where Lan Wangji will go against Wei Wuxian.
Lan Qiren sighs. “We’ll continue this talk afterwards. Go and prepare yourself.”
Lan Wangji bows in acknowledgement. Just before Lan Wangji steps out of the room, Lan Qiren calls, “Wangji.”
Lan Wangji pauses and turns to him.
What would you have asked from him?
Lan Qiren does not ask this. Instead he says, “Strive to do your best.”
Lan Wangji nods. “Yes.”
And he takes his leave.
There is a great deal of people—more than many previous matches before this one—gathered to watch the highly anticipated match between one of the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan sect and the son of late Cangse Sanren.
Lan Qiren sits with the rest of the different sect elders in preparation, strangely nervous. Before he can understand why, the gong rings.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian bow to each other as a show of respect, Lan Wangji with grace and Wei Wuxian with a grin.
Immediately their swords clash, ringing throughout the arena as they exchange a flurry of parries and blows. No one is sure on who initiated the first clash, but people murmur in wonder at the sight—neither of them bothered to size the other up as one would usually do when facing a new opponent, instead having decided to face each other head on.
Lan Qiren silently curses them for it. This was clearly not a match between two opponents fighting for the first time. He isn’t sure when they had the chance to, but anyone with eyes to see could understand that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are in fact very well-versed at sparring together. They way they exchange blows back and forth like a dance that no one else is privy to, their eyes trained sharp only on each other. They may as well be doing this in the middle of an empty field instead of an arena full of people watching them, flocking around each other like a pair of playful birds in a display of—of—
Courtship.
That’s what this is, Lan Qiren realizes. Wei Wuxian with his elated grin and Lan Wangji with his concentrated frown, as neither relent to the other. Lan Qiren glances around him to see if anyone else has made note of this. He’s equal parts glad and baffled that no one else seems to see it.
Then, something in the arena shifts.
“Lan-xiansheng, you must be so proud,” an elder from another sect says with a smile. “Hanguang-jun truly lives up to his name. Look how he has the upper hand now! I believe that the match will be determined soon in his favour.”
Indeed, the fight started out as a push-and-pull on equal parts between both of them. Now, though…
To a less trained eye, it may appear like Lan Wangji has the lead. Lan Qiren sees the match for what it is: Lan Wangji desperately chasing after Wei Wuxian’s figure as he playfully slips away one exchange after another, always almost within reach but never close enough to grasp.
Lan Qiren’s heart grows cold.
His eyes anxiously follow the pair across the arena, his hands gripping into tight fists under the table as Lan Wangji misses the chance again and again to strike Wei Wuxian. It isn’t that Lan Wangji is unskilled—it’s that Wei Wuxian is of equal caliber, being able to read Lan Wangji’s moves, and while not quick enough to turn the match around in his favour, just quick enough to dodge out of the way and effectively render the match into a standstill. Wei Wuxian’s eyes are sparkling with mirth and Lan Wangji, he looks—he looks…
He looks like he could spend the rest of his life doing just this.
Wei Wuxian is still a son of a former servant and a rogue cultivator—he has no status, no marriage prospect, and being able to marry or even officially court each other as cutsleeves would normally be out of question under any other given circumstance. Were they to continue to pursue these feelings for each other, they would have to do so in secrecy, or in Lan Qiren’s worst nightmares, elope and never be seen by the rest of the world again.
Perhaps Lan Wangji would grow out of it. There would be time for Lan Wangji to realize this, to really understand what this means. More likely, Lan Wangji will love someone unattainable and grow sicker with it every day until he dies of heartbreak.
No. Lan Wangji is stronger than to die from such a thing. Lan Qiren’s made sure of that. But Lan Qiren is also sure that Lan Wangji would gladly chase after Wei Wuxian no matter how out of reach he is, as long as it means that Lan Wangji may catch even a glimpse of Wei Wuxian’s footprints.
Foolish of Lan Qiren to think that Lan Wangji would never make such a hasty choice.
In this family, when feelings are involved, it has never been a choice.
Lan Qiren readies himself for his guest. He takes a deep breath.
He responds, “Enter.”
After a moment, the door slides open and reveals Wei Wuxian, looking properly baffled by Lan Qiren’s summons.
“Sit,” Lan Qiren commands, and Wei Wuxian sits, looking at him with equal parts curiosity and befuddlement.
Lan Qiren observes the young man sitting in front of him. For all intents and purposes, the Yunmeng Jiang sect taught him well enough over the years so that he displays perfect etiquette when in front of someone like Lan Qiren. He wonders if Cangse Sanren would be proud. Most likely, she’d be prouder of the fact that he could manage to bother not one, but two generations of the Gusu Lan sect bloodline.
“You sparred admirably against Wangji,” Lan Qiren starts.
“Ah,” Wei Wuxian intones, looking unsure if he should smile or not. “Thank you.”
It was a few days ago when the match had ended abruptly. In the crowd was Jiang Yanli, heavily pregnant, when she started going into active labour and had to be carried out supported by Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng. It was soon after that Lan Wangji forfeited the match, automatically declaring Wei Wuxian the winner, much to the Gusu Lan sect elders’ confusion. They didn’t understand—as a cultivator, it was dishonourable to forfeit from such a match like this, and Lan Wangji was certainly not lacking for skill against his opponent.
Lan Qiren saw. As soon as commotion started happening in Jiang Yanli’s direction, Wei Wuxian was distracted, and by the time she was being carried out, his eyes kept glancing away for more times that he could afford to do while dueling against someone as formidable as Lan Wangji. But he couldn’t forfeit the match as it would’ve become not only his reputation but also Jiang Yanli’s—some would’ve understood, but most would’ve wagged their tongues—nor would anyone stop a match for such a thing. And between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s skills, they could’ve been engaged in combat for days before the match tipped in either side’s favour.
He watched the way Lan Wangji watch Wei Wuxian. Watched how immediately Lan Wangji forfeited the match without hesitation, and watched him give a little nod to Wei Wuxian who thanked him profusely before running in Jiang Yanli’s direction.
“How is she?” Lan Qiren asks.
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian lets out at the unexpected question, but quickly recovers as he sits up straighter with a real smile on his lips. “Good. She’s recovering, but she’s healthy. And a healthy boy, they said.”
Lan Qiren nods in approval, stroking his beard. “Congratulations. Give my regards.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Wei Wuxian looks at him, waiting to be dismissed now that he’s figured out why Lan Qiren called for him. Lan Qiren could stop here and let him continue to think so. He could let this whole thing go and let time sort the situation out on its own.
He thinks of the way Lan Wangji’s eyes chase after Wei Wuxian.
Lan Qiren sighs.
Then, he says, “Do you know what our forehead ribbons mean?”
Wei Wuxian blinks.
“It is to remind us of self-regulation,” Lan Qiren continues. “One should only allow oneself to let go of all regulation with those they trust and love. Yourself, family, and cultivation partner. It is not to be touched by anyone else.”
Wei Wuxian sits there, still looking clueless.
“You asked for Wangji’s forehead ribbon. He agreed. Given your circumstances, I trust that you are aware of what this means.”
“Uh…” Wei Wuxian blinks owlishly. “Cir… Circumstances?”
With the patience of a thousand sages, Lan Qiren clarifies, “Between you and Wangji. Don’t play me a fool, Wei Wuxian. I already know. The reason why I called you here today is because I must know your intention towards Wangji. If this is a passing joke for you, then I suggest that you stop immediately and find someone else to fool around with. If you are as serious about this as he is, then tomorrow I plan to write Jiang Fengmian a letter to organize an arranged marriage between you and Wangji. Of course, with a proper courtship first. If this isn’t something you are prepared to accept, then I suggest you speak up n… Why do you look like that?”
Wei Wuxian is blinking rapidly, more and more confusion clouding his face. “I—I don’t understand.”
“Which part of that was confusing?” Lan Qiren asks, now confused himself. “Wei Wuxian, I thought you a brighter person than this.”
Wei Wuxian opens and closes his mouth like a carp. His face starts to redden from the top of his head to the bottom of his chin. “What—What do you mean by—Lan Zhan’s feelings for me?”
“What?” Lan Qiren lets out.
Wei Wuxian stares at him, wide-eyed.
Lan Qiren stares back, taking this in.
Both of them sit there, staring at each other in silence.
“You mean to tell me,” Lan Qiren says slowly, each word giving rise to his blood pressure, “that you didn’t know?”
“I—”
“You didn’t know?” Lan Qiren nearly but not quite yells. “You mean to tell me you’ve been saying all those—such scandalous words to Wangji without even having considered that he’s in love with you—”
“I—That is—We’re both learning a lot of new information at the same time right now—”
“Wei Wuxian!!!!!!!!”
The door explosively slides open, revealing both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen. “Shufu, what—”
“Close the door!!!!!!!!!” Lan Qiren says, not quite managing to lower his voice. “Have I taught either of you to act like this when I’m having a private conversation?????”
Lan Xichen closes the door. “I apologize, but we heard yelling and we were worried that—”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says breathily by Lan Wangji’s side, tugging Lan Wangji closer with his sleeve, “is your shufu telling the truth? Are you—you’re—are you in love with me?”
Lan Wangji freezes, eyes wide as he stares down at the man clinging to him in desperation. He opens and closes his mouth but no words come, a mirror of Wei Wuxian a moment prior. Lan Xichen glances at Lan Qiren with not unfounded amount of confusion and criticism, which Lan Qiren pointedly ignores.
“Yes? No?” Wei Wuxian continues impatiently, tugging at Lan Wangji more. “Lan Zhan, say something. Anything. What’s the truth? Is he correct or not?”
“I…”
Lan Wangji finally looks away, overwhelmed by this sudden predicament, unable to deny the truth but unable to speak of it either. Realizing this, Wei Wuxian slowly slides to the ground as his legs give out under him but still clutching onto Lan Wangji’s sleeve, his whole face lit up red like an open flame.
“Wha…” Wei Wuxian lets out weakly, “What is happening…”
Lan Qiren massages his temple. What a mess this is. His ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they were ever to see the sight of this room. Not only is this extremely awkward, but not even Lan Qiren as an eldest in the room has the shamelessness to look at Lan Wangji in the face after he accidentally—not on purpose!—confessed his feelings to the only man he would’ve not let known, who apparently doesn’t even reciprocate.
“Get up,” Lan Qiren says to Wei Wuxian who’s still on the floor in shock. “Forget about all this. And,” he continues, “you will never show yourself in front of Wangji again.”
Wei Wuxian looks up at this. “What?”
“I will not have you remind him of—this, every time he must see your face. Can’t you understand?”
Lan Wangji finally unfreezes himself at this. “Shufu.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen. “You can’t ban me from seeing Lan Zhan.”
“If you have any positive feelings towards Wangji at all, you will grant him that much peace of mind,” Lan Qiren grits out.
“I—Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian turns to Lan Wangji, “this is all so sudden and I didn’t even know you were a cutsleeve and I—I’m still pretty confused and don’t know how I’m feeling about all this—”
Lan Wangji noticeably deflates.
“—but I really can’t stand the thought of never getting to see you again. If your shufu does somehow manage to ban us from seeing each other, I’d just whisk you away and run away together instead!”
Lan Wangji’s eyes widen.
“You will do no such thing!” Lan Qiren says with shock. “How is it that you are the exact copy of your mother?!”
“You knew my mother?” Wei Wuxian replies with some shock of his own. He shakes his head and turns back to Lan Wangji. “Anyway, Lan Zhan, if I have to choose between never seeing you again and marrying you, then I—to be completely honest with you, I never thought I’d be a cutsleeve, but I—I really like dueling with you.”
All three of the Gusu Lan bloodlines stare at Wei Wuxian.
“I think of you as one of my closest friend,” Wei Wuxian continues, “and I think we share similar values and I think you’re the prettiest person in all of the cultivation world, and—and you’re such a good person. I really can’t stand the thought of not having you in my life, and if I really had to choose between never seeing you again and marrying you, then of course I’d rather marry you.”
Lan Wangji, in all of his uncharacteristic glory, gapes.
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breathes out again, eyes wide as he stares at Lan Wangji with his newfound perspective. “Lan Zhan, I...”
Wei Wuxian stumbles towards Lan Wangji, who catches him in his arms before he could fall on his face with his shaky legs. They stare at each other, hands squeezing together, and Lan Wangji looks so hopeful that Lan Qiren feels sick with the anticipation of it.
“Lan Zhan, I really like you,” Wei Wuxian says, his words tumbling out like he can’t help himself. “Don’t let your shufu ban us from seeing each other.”
Lan Wangji nods, his eyes piercing. “Mm.”
“What about you? Do you like me? Is it really true?”
“I like you,” Lan Wangji says firmly, his arms squeezing around Wei Wuxian.
Lan Xichen beams.
Lan Qiren shuts his eyes against the sight with a sigh.
When he opens his eyes, they’re still hugging.
“Enough!” he says. “You’re not married yet. Compose yourselves in front of your elders!”
“Isn’t it better if we gain some experiences so we’re not going in completely clueless?” Wei Wuxian asks with a pout. “Since we’re to be married anyway, we should enjoy our time together before then, too.”
“What—”
“Lan Zhan, don’t you think so? Tell your shufu you agree with me.”
Lan Wangji nods dutifully. “Mm.”
“Wei Wuxian!!!”
Lan Xichen is saying something to both of them now, trying to placate the situation for everyone. Lan Qiren strokes his beard with a world-weary sigh.
At least his tension headache is finally gone.
Lan Qiren wets his ink stone and methodically grinds the ink stick. After the ink reaches sufficient concentration, Lan Qiren gathers his sleeve and dips his brush into the ink.
To the zongzhu of Yunmeng Jiang sect, Jiang Fengmian, he writes, This is an official request for an arranged marriage between Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan sect and Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng Jiang sect.
Lan Qiren stares at the words.
He thinks of his old friend Cangse Sanren’s laughing face, happy at the happiness of her child. Of Lan Wangji’s content glow while holding in his arms a Wei Wuxian who looked as happy as a cat having stolen a prized fish from the market.
Lan Qiren shakes his head.
Unfortunately, he still knows what's best for his nephews.