#Jingyi never says it in Cloud recesses but the moment he is outside he has all the fucks to give
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Technically, Sizhui could be anywhere in the Cloud Recesses. There are even a few places outside the Cloud Recesses -- in the woods, or down in Caiyi town -- where he might have gone. He’s quick even on foot, and while Jingyi doesn’t think Sizhui would go sprinting through the Cloud Recesses in the dead of night to get to wherever it is he’s been going, Sizhui is already breaking curfew and sneaking out, so. Who knows, really.
But Jingyi has been Sizhui’s best friend for as long as he can remember, and he thinks he has a pretty good idea of where to find him.
The rabbit hill is still and mostly empty this late at night, the little bunnies curled into their little burrows to sleep. There are a few rabbit friends out and about though, white puff balls converging around a much bigger white shape in the center. Jingyi mentally pats himself on the back. He may not know Sizhui well enough to figure out why he’s been so weird lately, but he knows where he goes when he’s upset.
He approaches on silent feet, less because he actually thinks he can sneak up on Sizhui and more because he doesn’t want to startle away any of the bunnies. Petting the little fluff balls is incredibly soothing when you’ve had a bad day, and Sizhui has been having a bad... uh, month? Jingyi noticed him being upset a couple weeks ago, but knowing Sizhui he was probably stewing for a while before he started to let it show, so... Jingyi is gonna tentatively go with “month,” and then adjust the timeline as new information is revealed.
Sizhui... doesn’t look up as Jingyi settles into the grass beside him. Concerning! Jingyi does not like that! He does nod his head in greeting though, so that’s something, at least. He -- oh.
It’s hard to tell, in the thin, silvery moonlight, but. His eyes look a little bit wet, not like he’s been crying but like he’s thinking he might start soon.
Oh, no. Jingyi should have followed him the same night he caught Sizhui sneaking out of their room. He should have forced Sizhui to tell him what was wrong weeks ago. Jingyi is the worst friend ever.
Well. He can fix this! He can. He can try to start fixing this, anyway. He doesn’t bother with any of the obvious questions, like are you okay (obviously not) or do you want to talk about it (if he did he would have already.)
Instead what he says, more to the rabbit burrowing into his lap than to Sizhui, because Sizhui kind of reminds him of a rabbit right now too and Jingyi feels like too much attention will make him startle away -- what he says is “Can I help?”
Sizhui takes a shaking, hitching little breath, shock and sorrow. He bows his head. They are, for one absolutely agonizing goddamn moment, completely silent.
They’re sitting in silence for so long that Jingyi starts to wonder if maybe Sizhui won’t talk to him after all. That would be... fine. That would be fine! Sizhui is allowed to have secrets, even if Jingyi is stung by the thought that Sizhui would keep secrets from him. But they’re grown up now and secrets and normal and that’s fine.
“Can I... tell you?”
He’s so busy reassuring himself that he won’t be upset if Sizhui doesn’t say anything that he almost misses it when Sizhui finally does say something. Jingyi blinks, and sits up straight. (The bunny in his lap startles and hops away.)
“Of course! You know you can tell me anythi--”
“Jingyi.” Oh. That’s. Sizhui has never looked at him like that before. Sizhui has always been the one reaching out for Jingyi, ever since they met, scolding the other kids for bullying him when he struggled in class and helping him study when the teachers moved on before he could understand a concept. Sizhui brought Jingyi to the Jingshi when Hanguang-Jun was still in seclusion because he thought Jingyi needed a grown-up, and Jingyi was welcomed to their table and into their house and into their lives.
Jingyi spent most of his childhood nights curling up to sleep in a-Yuan’s bed, listening to Hanguang-Jun play them both a lullaby, just because he didn’t like sleeping in the orphan’s house. He has always thought of Sizhui as safety, and stability, and home.
And now, Sizhui is looking at Jingyi like he’s a stranger. Sizhui is looking at him like he’s afraid.
“Jingyi,” he says again, so, so quietly. He’s turned now so they’re properly facing each other, and Jingyi can see that he isn’t empty-handed. He’s holding an old, fraying red ribbon in his lap, stroking it with careful fingers. “That -- that’s what I need. That’s how you can help. Jingyi, can I tell you?” His hands twitch, curl into fists. He clutches the ribbon to his stomach. “Can I trust you?”
And -- well. Fuck. Obviously there’s only answer to that!
Jingyi is slow and careful when he reaches out to put a hand on Sizhui’s, but is neither slow nor careful when he says “Yes,” with his whole chest behind it. “Whatever it is, Sizhui, you can trust me.”
It’s true. Jingyi is already wracking his brain for what big secret Sizhui could possibly be about to reveal. Did he kill someone? Sizhui wouldn’t do that without good reason, and Jingyi can’t imagine what that reason could be or when it could have happened but he’ll help cover for Sizhui, he’ll do it, he’ll hide a body and be an alibi if he has to. Oh, huh, but if the person is still a ghost they’re gonna have to deal with that. Eugh. Jingyi will do it, because he’s a cultivator and that’s his job, but--
“I’m a Wen,” Sizhui says, and the entire world promptly stops making any sense.
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11/11-11/24 NR, E, & M reading
The usual
Finished
Not Rated:
Lotus Silk, by mondengel (locked to ao3 guests)
Yunmeng Jiang spins to cultivate.
Explicit:
in defense of lightning, by fruitys
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says again. His blood is buzzing in his ears, a rush like the ocean and maybe, terrifyingly, like hope. “What did you think I meant?”
“I thought,” says Wei Ying. He falters. “I thought,” he says, unblinking, still staring at Lan Wangji’s shoulder, “that you meant. You. You and me.”
Mature:
To Gaze at the End, by mondengel (locked to ao3 guests)
A cursed vase gives a glimpse of the future.
Unfinished
Not Rated:
The Kids Are Okay (I Think), by GossamerGlint
Wei Ying, in a twist of fate, finds himself on the streets once more, betrayed by cultivators
Meng Yao's mother dies early, betrayed by cultivators.
Xue Yang loses his finger with his optimism, betrayed by cultivators.
Yet none of them will be left alone, if this mysterious ghost with an equally hazy past has anything to say about it. And so what if these boys are her distant grandchildren? She'll adopt them all the same! Now... if only they wouldn't get into any trouble because of their inheritance...
Song of Joy and Regrets, by HelloKitten
The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.
Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.
"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..."
"Do they all involve him being bait?"
"Yes" came deadpanned responses.
Hua Cheng is not amused.
Explicit:
Discarded, by teawater
Children in Cloud Recesses are succubming to a dark curse. There's one person who may be able to help.
Mature:
Peace and War, by rollymolly
The fates are beyond cruel in what seems to be the biggest colossal joke.
--
Or, Wen Qing finds herself back in Yunmeng, moments before she previously asked Wei Wuxian to save A-Ning.
heaven is for me too high, by stiltonbasket
"I am forty-five years old, not twenty," Jiang Cheng says wearily. "Hanguang-jun, in my time, you had the whole jianghu at your feet, and the world you built with my shige was a beautiful thing to behold. That world was my home, and someday I will return to it—but until then, I will do what I can for you and my brother in this one. Will you join me?"
Lan Wangji stares at him, doubt resounding in every nerve of his body; and then, without speaking, he reaches up and grips Jiang Cheng's proffered hand.
"I am with you," he answers. "What must I do?"
Cutting Out a Different Path, by T98
Wei Wuxian wakes up with an old back pain and a lack of a familiar warmth by his side. He groans, moving his arm around the bed to feel for Lan Wangji. Except what he feels is not a bed. Startled, he gets up quickly to find himself on a familiar slab of rock in a very familiar cave. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he takes a look around. His half-finished talismans are lying around on the floor and he can hear voices from outside
Tragedy That Befall Upon Us, by xoxoholic
"Hey! What's this?" Jin Ling yelled, pointing at the glowing, black and red orb. Jiang Wanyin marched over to Jin Ling, but the young Jin sect leader had already touched the orb.
"Jin Ling!" Jiang Wanyin yelled in anger. If his golden core was not sealed, then Zidian would be cackling furiously.
"..Oops?" Jin Ling sheepishly smiled as he hid behind his friends. Lan Jingyi laughed at Jin Lings predicament while Lan Sizhui sighed. Ouyang Zizhen laughed with Lan Jingyi in amusement before he was hit in the back of his head by his father.
Muted Silence, by Forever_Marie
When Wei Wuxian went to the Jiang clan, he could talk. Shortly after arriving he suddenly had slash marks across his young neck and he never spoke again.
Now, that he is going to attend the lectures. Can Lan Zhan unravel the mystery surrounding this beautiful cultivator and help him?
What If..... Jiang Cheng Understood?, by ToxicAngel13
didn't take a genius to realize just what had happened in the time that Wei Wuxian was gone. Not with that damn ribbon on his wrist and Jiang Cheng was not going to let his brother be taken advantage of!
Or a tale in which one insight sparks a world of change.
We're Alone Now, by Forever_Marie
"Did you hear, did you hear? Hanguang-jun deserted his clan"
Lan Zhan deserts the Lan Clan in favor of protecting Wei Wuxian and warns him of the pending Siege. They all run for the hills and everything is quiet for a decade until one day Xichen wanders upon him in a market in Yiling.
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Wei Wuxian begging Lan Wangji to take him back to Lotus Pier suddenly so they go and the first thing Wei Wuxian does is grab some money, shove Jiang Cheng out of the way and stuff the money a jar in the middle of the dining hall and grab a handful of talismans and shout “Fucking Finally!”
One talisman starts to burn as Wei Wuxian hops back over to his husband.
“Sorry about that, I ran out of fucks to give and had to get some more.” Another talisman burns quickly.
“You… what?”
“We have to get our fucks in advance, we had a swear jar but I never had change on me so when Jiang Cheng remade the sect he changed it so you only get as many fucks as you can buy.” Wei Wuxian explains, burning two more talismans and groping his husband for more money to stock up. “Why do you think Jingyi asked for his allowance early?”
Lan Wangji gently takes a talisman from his husband, looking it over, then with all the love in his heart turns to his husband and says “What the fuck?”
We Wuxian has never looked more delighted as something catches fire
#mdzs#the untamed#wei wuxian#lan wangji#Lan Zhan#Wei Ying#wangxian#look canonically WWX curses more than JC (granted it IS his POV)#and I think if he had a swear jar he would probably never remember to fill it up#all the money at the end of the month is piled together for a small party for all the disciples#sometimes Jiang Cheng will buy a few extra and give them to Wen Ning and Sizhui because he thinks they deserve#to go apeshit#also nothing is funnier than watching Wen Ning say fuck and watching Lan Wangji almost have a heart attack#other than WWX the most common purchaser of the talismans is in fact Jingyi who buys his and Jin Ling’s shares together#Jingyi never says it in Cloud recesses but the moment he is outside he has all the fucks to give#whenever Jiang disciples meet up with Lan#sizhui has to keep the Lan juniors from going anywhere near Jingyi because he LOVES the Jiang Disciples and they both go crazy and the#Jiang Disicples always carry extra ‘fuck’s for Jingyi because they love him too
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(Is this where you submit prompts? I really dont know ^^💧) Prompt for the renouncement au: I don’t know why i love when gossip is involved, so maybe something about people’s opinions on wangxian’s marriage and how it slowly changes to a better perspective to the point that anyone who doubts their feelings for each other gets immediately shut down. And you could add some juniors shenanigans to make wangxian have that good of a reputation because i miss them </3. Thank you for your time and effort! (And sorry if this is not the place for the prompts, i will submit it again if you say so ^^’ )
(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)
Lan Siyong considers himself one of the more moderate elders among the Lan sect.
He has been close friends with Lan Qiren from childhood, and he saw Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji grow up into the fine, upstanding men they are today. When the two of them were boys, he even had fond thoughts of attending their weddings, and watching them take on the most sacred of duties with glad, willing hearts.
Learning that Xichen would never wed had been a disappointment, but Lan Siyong rallied again when Lan Qiren confided the reason why the boy rejected marriage—chastity in an upstanding cultivator was to be lauded, especially in an age where Jin Guangshan had once demanded such high respect, and there could still be children born to Lan Huan if he decided to cultivate them. And of course, Wangji was there, and Lan Siyong knew from the first that he would be the kind of youth to fall in love deeply, at first sight, and remain passionately devoted to his mingding zhiren until he drew his last breath.
But then Lan Siyong had Wangji’s own sword turned upon him at the Burial Mounds, because the one that his many-times distant nephew loved so dearly was none other than Wei Wuxian.
“Qiren,” he says hoarsely, when the lotus-scented wedding invitations arrive from Lotus Pier. “You cannot let this happen—an unrighteous cultivator, one who spurned orthodoxy without remorse and led Wangji down such a dangerous path—”
“What has been done has been done,” Lan Qiren replies. “We have sent the bridewealth, and the marriage was contracted between Xichen and Jiang-zongzhu. All their terms have been agreed upon, and the date set.”
And then, after a brief pause: “He makes Wangji happy.”
Lan Siyong nearly cries. He does not attend the wedding, for fear of shaming Wangji with the open despair that appears on his face whenever he sees Wei Wuxian, and sends the newlywed couple the most expensive gift he can afford in an effort to do something useful.
Wei Wuxian is the one who writes him a letter in thanks. Lan Siyong almost has a qi deviation.
__
“You know,” one of the other elders mutters after the second wedding ceremony: namely, the ceremony held in the Cloud Recesses, since Jiang-zongzhu demanded that his brother should be married at Lotus Pier first. “Wei Wuxian refused to have a blessing for children spoken at the an chuang ceremony.”
“Gossip is forbidden,” Lan Haiyang says tranquilly. He stopped caring about practically everything after his son’s wife gave birth to the whirlwind that calls himself Lan Jingyi, so Lan Siyong has long since given up relying on him to fix any kind of sect turmoil. “And they already have two children. I have not seen a finer Lan disciple than Lan Sizhui in all my days.”
Lan Siyong is forced to concede this last. Wangji has two good children, even if the Yiling Patriarch is perhaps the most unsuitable person alive to raise them with him, and a couple’s choice to expand their family is up to them, and no others.
“He should at least have let the blessing be spoken, though.”
Lan Siyong does not disagree with this. Traditions are traditions, and surely even Wei Wuxian should know to respect them once in a while.
__
“It’s worse than I thought,” Lan Siyong murmurs, on a summer afternoon about six weeks after Wangji’s wedding. He passed Haiyang’s grandson and his friends on his way to the refectory that morning, and heard them discussing how heartbroken Wangji had looked upon hearing that Wei Wuxian did not return his love. “I ought not to have eavesdropped, but—poor Wangji!”
“Poor Wangji what?” Lan Haiyang asks, as if their little Lan Zhan being in trouble was all in another day’s work to him. “What’s happened to him now?”
“Wei Wuxian disavows Wangji’s love at every opportunity,” he replies dismally, going over to the refreshment table to drown his woes in chestnut cake and tea. “I fear for him, Haiyang. To love for so long, and to wed his beloved, and have children with him, and still…”
Lan Haiyang snorts into his tea.
“What do you mean by that?” demands Lan Siyong, more than a little offended. “Wangji is in distress! We must do something!”
His friend does not reply. Honestly, it’s as if no one remembers what Wangji suffered for Wei Wuxian’s sake. Lan Siyong even tries raising the issue with Lan Qiren, and then with Xichen, but all he gets in return for his pains is a tray of fresh-baked red bean buns from the hanshi and another cryptic comment about Wangji’s supposed happiness from Qiren.
Yet again, he is forced to leave his worries for another day, and try his best to follow rule three thousand, one hundred and sixty-two: that the affairs of a married couple should not be discussed by outsiders, even if they happen to be close, concerned family.
Lan Siyong thinks his hair might be turning white by now.
__
And then, in early winter, Lan Siyong is roused from his bed one night and told that Wei Wuxian has gone missing. He joins the search party that Wangji leads, and follows him to a dark house in the woods with the Ghost General leading the way—and then he watches as Wangji kills at least a dozen men in an effort to reach his husband, whom they find unconscious in a cave beneath the house with corpse bites dotting every visible inch of his skin.
Lan Siyong nearly weeps as he hears Wangji’s desperate whispers to his beloved on the way back to Gusu, and watches him hold Wei Wuxian close while refusing help from anyone who offers.
Let him live, Lan Siyong prays silently, when Wei Wuxian is carried into the infirmary with Wangji at his side. Please, for Wangji’s sake, let Wei-gongzi live.
__
“Qiren?”
A few days after the news about Wangji’s soon-to-be-born daughter is made public (public being a subjective word, since ceremony preceding the birth of a third child is unnecessary, and Wei Wuxian had said that he would rather wait until the baby arrives to make a formal announcement) Lan Siyong discovers Lan Qiren in one of the common rooms, sitting at a writing desk with his head buried in his hands. It’s a strange thing to see his friend do, since Lan Qiren has not looked so distressed since those three dark years after Wangji’s sentencing, and he hardly even looks up when Lan Siyong lays a hand on his shoulder.
“It was just four weeks ago that Wei Ying was kidnapped and confined in that dungeon,” Lan Qiren says blankly, after he registers Lan Siyong’s presence and turns around to greet him. “If he—oh, heavens—”
Two weeks later, Lan Siyong requests a week’s leave from teaching to attend the trials of Wei Wuxian’s kidnappers, who are being held under Nie-zongzhu’s jurisdiction in the Unclean Realm. He has always believed himself to be a gentle man, but when the only sentences dealt are life imprisonment and execution, Lan Siyong’s heart is strangely devoid of any pity. All he can think of are the corpse bites he saw on Wei Wuxian’s face and throat, and a baby girl who nearly perished with her father before she had the chance to take her first breath.
On his way back to the Cloud Recesses, he purchases a bolt of thick cream-colored silk with fine sky-blue embroidery and brings it to Wangji as a gift after the next monthly sect meeting.
“Xinhua-jun will need wider-cut robes before long,” he says, when his nephew gives him a curious glance before bowing low in thanks. “Zewu-jun has told us all that he and the child are in good health, and that the little one is growing well. All of our good wishes go with them both, and we pray that you should not hesitate to rely on us in the months to come if it should be needed.”
Wangji’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, San-shushu. It is much appreciated.”
__
Lan Siyong gets his first chance to hold Wei Shuilan at the baby’s full-moon ceremony, while Wangji and Wei Wuxian are running back and forth through the banquet hall to greet the arriving guests, and seize the first trusted elder they can reach to watch little A-Lan for a moment. At first, Lan Siyong merely stands by her cradle to keep an eye on her, but then she seems to sense her parents’ absence, so he picks her up and jogs her up and down to keep her from crying; and then he begins to hum softly beside her tiny ear, soothing the baby back to sleep by the time Wei Wuxian returns.
“My good Lan-bao,” Wei Wuxian croons, cradling the child to his chest before rearranging her crumpled swaddling clothes. “Such a good baobei, to take your nap even with so much going on! Just like your A-Die, thank goodness, and not like your A-Niang.”
Curious, Lan Siyong clears his throat. “What do you mean, Wei-gongzi?”
Wei Wuxian laughs. “I never sleep properly at night, but Lan Zhan always falls asleep at hai shi, even if he isn’t in bed yet,” he says, with his voice so full of love for the newborn child in his arms and the husband who gave her to him that Lan Siyong feels strangely humbled. “A-Lan’s just like him that way.”
At that moment, Wangji appears with a plate of cut fruit and lotus cake before presenting it to Wei Wuxian. “Here, Wei Ying. Give A-Lan to me, and eat your lunch.”
“Lunch?” Wei Wuxian asks, confused. “But we’re having the banquet in just an hour.”
“You have been having your luncheon at this time for the past six months,” Wangji says stubbornly. “I will not have you going hungry even for a minute, xingan.”
“Lan Zhan, sweetheart…”
Thank heaven they found each other again, Lan Siyong thinks, slipping away to find Lan Qiren with a rising lump of tears in his throat. I do not think anyone else could have ever made Wangji so happy.
#wangxian#the untamed#mo dao zu shi#renouncement verse#wangxian arranged marriage au#my fic#god this was long#BUT THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT ;_;#<3
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Title: family matters
Pairing: Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi
Excerpt:
“You’re almost like another son to him anyway,” Sizhui points out.
“So you’re the favourite child while I get tossed to the wayside?”
Ao3 link
Read below the cut.
The first time Jingyi meets Sizhui, they are each five. Zewu-Jun himself delivers the boy to lessons and asks that the children treat Sizhui with exceptional respect and consideration. That in itself isn’t anything new, as the Lans have written rules that explain why giving others kindness is one of the many keys to leading a decent life and acting as a role model to those in- and outside the sect. What was different, however, was the moment before Zewu-Jun took his leave from the students.
He gave a downturn of his chin to the boys and the teacher, but was unable to take more than two steps before little Sizhui had grappled to his robes, arms held fast around the Sect Leader’s left leg. Jingyi has never been known for necessarily obedient behaviour, but even he had never dared such an act toward Zewu-Jun, let alone in public. To the entire room’s astonishment, the man didn’t look put out in the very least. Rather than reprimand the child, Zewu-Jun put a gentle hand to his head and guided him out into the gardens. Jingyi knew he would be scolded were he to peek at them, and did it anyway when Laoshi’s back was turned.
Outside he saw Sizhui and Zewu-Jun, the Sect Leader in his immaculate robes bent to a knee as though they were in the cleanly confines of a hall rather than stood on a dusty path. Sizhui was staring at the ground, rubbing at his nose, and Zewu-Jun gave him a gentle chuck beneath the chin, murmuring words Jingyi couldn’t possibly hear. Sizhui’s nod prompted a smile from the Sect Leader that Jingyi, even at his young age, could tell held something more behind it.
He was quick to be facing the front of the room by the time Sizhui was led back into the class, much more collected and prepared to learn for the day. Jingyi understands, sort of; although he hadn’t wanted to begin lessons either, it’s just what is expected of children their age in the Cloud Recesses. He’d still stomped and whined, of course, but here he sits.
And he’s rather glad to have come once Laoshi dismisses them, because he gets to trot after Sizhui’s slow movements and say, “Hey!” He recalls in a split-second Zewu-Jun’s request that they show Sizhui respect, along with the rules, and adds quickly, “Welcome to Cloud Recesses. I haven’t seen you before.” Sizhui stares at him, uncertain. “Did you just come here? Where’d you move from?”
Sizhui gives a helpless shrug that is interrupted by the Sect Leader’s prompt appearance by his side. Jingyi immediately dips into a polite little bow that makes Zewu-Jun smile and he returns the gesture. Jingyi grins before he can bite it down and says, “Zewu-Jun, where’s Sizhui from?”
The Sect Leader hesitates a moment before his expression smooths into something less telling. “He is an orphan, A-Yi,” he says simply. “I trust that you will show him kindness.”
Jingyi looks at Sizhui with slightly widened eyes, nodding vigorously. “I will!” he promises the older man. To the boy, he says, “I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.”
For the first time, Sizhui’s lips quirk into the hint of a smile. “You don’t need to do that. I’m okay.”
“Too late,” Jingyi says firmly. “Tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll deal with them.” Zewu-Jun lowers his eyes to hide his amusement and Jingyi barrels on, “Better yet, I’ll stick by your side to save the trouble. Okay?”
Sizhui allows a little nod before Zewu-Jun murmurs that they should be heading home. The boy nods and Jingyi gives a wave, which Sizhui repays with a shy, squint-eyed smile. Jingyi beams. It may be Zewu-Jun’s request, but keeping Sizhui safe won’t be an arduous task at all, he thinks. Maybe they’ll even become good friends!
Jingyi finds Sizhui by the rabbits. It’s his friend’s favourite spot in the Cloud Recesses and if ever there’s a time when Jingyi can’t seem to find Sizhui in the main pavilion, he knows where he’ll be. Today is no exception.
Sizhui had disappeared just before he and Jingyi were meant to meet. They had each taken their meals as quickly as possible without appearing impolite to their families before the usual rendezvous by the rock garden’s bridge for a short break together, a daily update of all things Cloud Recesses. But when Jingyi arrived, Sizhui was nowhere to be seen and he’d known that something must have happened for his best friend to abandon him without warning.
Seeing Sizhui now, surrounded by soft rabbits, Jingyi hopes that he’d perhaps fallen into a brief mood as he sometimes does and all is in fact well, though he’d had to come here to get away from it all. He wouldn’t fault Sizhui that. However, when he calls out for him in approach, Sizhui wipes at his face like he’s been caught, and Jingyi begins to frown.
“A-Hui,” he says, coming to a stop beside him. Sizhui won’t look at him, gaze focused on the ground as he soothes a rabbit in his lap, and Jingyi can see that his eyes are red, cheeks tear-streaked. “A-Hui,” he repeats.
“I’m alright,” Sizhui says. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s been four years and you still think I care,” Jingyi replies, the slightest sarcasm in his words. “What happened?”
“It really isn’t a big deal.”
“So some non-issue made you come here and cry?” Jingyi deduces dryly.
“They…” Sizhui stops.
Jingyi sombers and can feel his frown deepening. “They who?”
“Mingyu. And Pengfei. Rumours about where I’m from.”
“Sizhui, what’d they do?”
“They said…” Sizhui’s hands shake only slightly where they hold the rabbit, but it still makes Jingyi’s stomach hurt. “Just that they think I’m from that old sect that was eradicated years ago for their evil ways, and how it’s strange I’m not dead like the rest of them. A-Fei said if I’m evil it’s their duty to — ” Sizhui doesn’t complete the sentence as his voice catches, but Jingyi is already on his feet. “A-Yi!” Sizhui’s hand reaches for Jingyi’s ankle, though he’s too far to catch. “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” Jingyi demands. “I’m going to challenge them to a duel and shame them in front of the gods and the Four Families. What else?”
“Jingyi, don’t,” Sizhui says tiredly.
“Why not?”
“We’ve only just begun sword-work, for one,” Sizhui quips, aiming for a joke. Jingyi crosses his arms over his chest and Sizhui sighs as he gently sets the rabbit aside to stand. “We’re barely 10,” he says. “You can’t fight another kid to the death, Jingyi.”
“I disagree,” he mumbles.
“Well, that’s allowed. I don’t expect us to agree on everything. But you’ll only get in trouble and I don’t want that.”
“They said horrible things to you!” Jingyi exclaims. “And I said I’d protect you. ‘Our word is our oath,’ remember? Never break a promise. If I don’t confront them, I’m betraying one of our rules. A punishable offense, you know.”
“Coming here to find me is enough,” Sizhui says, fond but immovable, per usual. “I’m not even crying anymore, thanks to you. I’d say you did your duty.” Jingyi grumbles his dissent, arms still crossed, but Sizhui just bumps their shoulders together as he stands by his side, twining an arm through Jingyi’s out of habit. “Let’s get back to class.”
“They’re lucky they didn’t say that stuff in front of me,” Jingyi says while they walk. “Those brats. Don’t think I won’t do it next time.”
“Yes, A-Yi.”
“Don’t ‘Yes, A-Yi’ me; I mean it!”
“Okay, A-Yi.”
“Sizhui!” comes the expected whine.
Because it is their shared space, another day finds the boys with the rabbits. Zewu-Jun had apparently shown it to Sizhui when he first arrived and was feeling lonely, and although Jingyi dislikes that Sizhui had felt sad, he’s happy that it had at least brought them a special hideaway that so few know about. There’s nothing like an afternoon of hideously dull lessons to remind Jingyi why he so prefers not being in class. As if he ever forgets.
“There’s no way Laoshi Qiren isn’t trying to kill us,” Jingyi deadpans. “I swear, leaving his class I’m always sapped of both energy and will to live. Not a coincidence.”
“You say this nearly every day.”
“And it’s true! A slow-burn murder.”
“I feel certain that if my Grand-Uncle was trying to kill me, there’d be more concern from my father and uncle.”
Jingyi makes a face and holds a rabbit up to meet her dark gaze. “What do you think? Who’s right, little one?”
Sizhui rolls his eyes, taking the rabbit gently from Jingyi so that he can return her to the grass with her family. “She can’t talk,” he says, “but if she could, she’d agree with me.”
“One of our numerous Sect rules is to reserve assumptions until proper evidence is drawn,” Jingyi recites, “yet here you are. What would your esteemed uncle say? Or your father, for that matter?”
“Zewu-Jun would say it’s worth it to tease you. Baba would say… I’m right,” Sizhui concludes proudly. “Because I’m his son.”
“Nepotism! Utter bias!”
“You’re almost like another son to him anyway,” Sizhui points out.
“So you’re the favourite child while I get tossed to the wayside?” Sizhui laughs at Jingyi’s affronted expression, and for that Jingyi takes his free hand where it rests across from him on the grass. “You know, that’s fine. If he already accepts me as a son, there won’t be any trouble when I request formal permission to court you.”
Sizhui turns red and pulls his hand back to pet the rabbit, glancing around as though someone might be watching all of a sudden. “You’re silly,” he says to Jingyi.
“We’re already going to be 15!” Jingyi pouts.
“Why are you so interested in discussing it today?”
Jingyi tugs a little at a few strands of grass. “Just the lesson earlier about cultivation partners.”
Sizhui’s cheeks haven’t lost their blush but he does look pleasantly surprised as he says, “You paid attention in class after all! A-Yi!”
“Only for today because it applied to me,” Jingyi insists. “To us, I guess.”
Sizhui seems to remember his shyness and ducks his head. “You want me to be your cultivation partner?” he asks.
“Don’t you want to be?”
“I never said I didn’t!” Sizhui says quickly, seeing that Jingyi appears disheartened. He carefully reaches for his hand despite his own red face and says, “Would I spend all my time with you if I didn’t want to?”
“Well, how should I know?” Jingyi asks, but he’s sitting up like he’s got less weight holding him down now. Back to his usual self, which is a good sign. “Some cultivation partners are platonic, you know.”
“Rarely.”
“A-Hui, are you questioning Laoshi Qiren?”
“I’d prefer to avoid lashing by oar if I can avoid it, thank you.”
“I thought you said you have nepotism on your side!”
Sizhui shakes his head and, somehow graceful even here, stands up from the ground. “We should head back, A-Yi,” he says, brushing invisible dust from his robes. “It’s getting late now.”
“Can’t we just stay here forever?” Jingyi asks dramatically, falling onto his back. At Sizhui’s look, he sighs and extends a hand upward for Sizhui to accept.
Instead of allowing him to help Jingyi to his feet, Jingyi tugs Sizhui down so that he tumbles back to the ground, half against Jingyi’s side. Jingyi laughs aloud in amused delight while Sizhui’s blush returns with a vengeance.
“Lan Jingyi!” he scolds, twisting away from him. “Shameless!”
“You sound like your father!” Jingyi laughs again.
Sizhui huffs and hurries to stand, putting distance between himself and Jingyi. “And if you don’t want him to give you the oar, you’d better just do as I say. Let’s go.”
“Bossy, bossy,” Jingyi says, though he’s following Sizhui obediently for the path. He sneaks a glance to his left and can’t help but grin at Sizhui’s flushed cheeks and the way his ears have gone pink at the tips. According to Sizhui, Hanguang-Jun’s ears do the same.
He gives a little poke to the skin of Sizhui’s ear, just to mess with him, and Sizhui huffs another breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Completely shameless!” before abandoning Jingyi altogether to hurry ahead of him.
If Wei Wuxian had been asked as a teenager whether he could ever envision making a life for himself in the Cloud Recesses, he’d have laughed in your face. He did, actually, when Jiang Cheng made the passing joke all those years ago, assuring his brother that this place would never feel like home to someone with Wei Wuxian’s habits. Now, what’s closer to two decades ago than Wei Wuxian would like to think about, he has to admit that his younger self hadn’t been nearly open-minded enough.
Circumstances that he couldn’t have foreseen changed his view of Cloud Reccesses, and he knows that he will be here for as long as he can be because being here means keeping his place beside his husband and son. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else these days and the certainty of that sometimes takes him by surprise, when he considers just how different things are now but in a way that feels right, like it’s what always was meant to be.
He feels himself smiling when he sees A-Yuan and A-Yi in the woods near the rabbits. He knows that Lan Xichen had brought A-Yuan years before when he’d been new here, sure that giving the child a piece of Lan Wangji would bring him comfort in his three-year absence. It’s still Wei Wuxian’s favourite place in the Cloud Recesses — except for the rooms he shares with Lan Zhan, of course, but that’s a given — and it makes him even happier that Lan Sizhui had found solace here as his fathers had done at his age.
He watches from afar with a fond smile as the boys stand to be on their way home, but Wei Wuxian’s smile freezes when he can tell even from here that Sizhui is smiling sweetly with a hand in Jingyi’s, and his smile decidedly disappears when he realises their faces are far too close together. Wei Wuxian trips backward, a twig or five snapping as he does, and it must alert the boys to an outside present for when he regains his footing against the tree, they’ve fled the scene. A hand to his chest, Wei Wuxian stands there in astonishment.
This lasts for only a moment before he is all but sprinting for the Library Pavilion where his husband is sure to be writing this early afternoon. He forces himself to slow down so as to not alarm Lan Wangji, though he comes to a sliding stop inside the doors anyhow with heaving breath.
“What’s happened?” Lan Wangji asks, not lifting his eyes from his work. When it’s obvious that Wei Wuxian is still having trouble speaking, he looks up at him. “Wei Ying?”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says. He goes to him across the room and drops onto the floor to clutch at his husband’s arm. He stares at Wei Wuxian with the slightest concern and Wei Wuxian says, “I don’t mean to be dramatic — ”
“Debatable,” Lan Wangji answers. “Say what you have to say.”
“Did you know A-Yuan is — that he and Jingyi are — ”
“They are what?”
“I’ve just seen them with the rabbits, which is ordinary, but afterwards, Lan Zhan — ”
“Baba? A-die?”
Both men look for the entrance where their son has appeared, hands folded in front of him and looking for all the world their dutiful, sweet boy. Wei Wuxian’s heart stops, a feeling he’s never enjoyed, and jumps to his feet.
“Sizhui!” he exclaims.
“I need to speak with you both. Is this a bad time?” he asks. He’s walked in on more than one longing glance between his fathers to know when he should make himself scarce, but Wei Wuxian waves his son’s worry away like a pesky gnat.
“Come here,” Lan Wangji invites him, and Sizhui does. He sits across from Lan Wangji, who looks up at his still-standing husband. Wei Wuxian hurriedly settles beside him and nods at Lan Sizhui in assurance.
“I wanted to tell you on my own, before anyone else, so that you would know I’m sure of my decision,” Sizhui begins. “With your formal permission, I… I will begin publicly courting Jingyi.” Sizhui’s ears have begun to redden but he doesn’t hesitate as he goes on, “We’d like to be married.”
The library is silent enough that a pin’s dropping would prove thunderous.
As calm as he normally is, Lan Wangji simply asks, “How long have you known?”
“A-die, you know he and I have been friends since almost the day I arrived here. He’s been there for me without my ever having to ask, and we… we’ve been certain of how we feel for over six years now.”
“Six years?” Wei Wuxian blurts aloud. Lan Wangji gives him a warning side-eye and Wei Wuxian tries to remain collected. “Sizhui, if it’s been so long, why haven’t you told us until today?”
Sizhui’s flush deepens but he forces himself to meet his father’s eyes. “Before all else, Jingyi and I are friends. We didn’t want the hassle of chaperones or rumours. I understand if our keeping this secret is upsetting, Baba.” He bows his head. “I… I’m soon to be 18, and I know we’re young. But I can’t help wanting to make the most of whatever time A-Yi and I have. You and A-die — ”
A pause. “From what I’ve been told of your story, it has kept in my mind that I shouldn’t live with this sort of hidden feeling any longer than necessary.” Sizhui looks up at them. “Jingyi loves me, and I love him. Will you allow our marriage?”
Wei Wuxian is crying, which he’d be embarrassed about if he cared, and he throws propriety to the wind in favour of opening his arms for his son, who gladly and in relief stands to accept the embrace. Lan Wangji is sort of smiling in a clear indication that he’s happy with these events, and Wei Wuxian leans to poke at his cheek just to tease him.
“I’m thrilled you’ve told us,” Wei Wuxian says to Sizhui. “I assume Jingyi is informing his parents?”
“Well, we wanted to wait until we had your blessing,” Sizhui admits. “It would be easier to tell them once we know Hanguang-Jun and the former Yiling Patriarch are on our side.”
“You little schemers!” Wei Wuxian says, giving Sizhui’s cheek a light pinch. “Go on, then. Tell Jingyi the good news.”
Sizhui beams and looks at Lan Wangji. His smile strengthens under his son’s eyes and he gives the slightest nod, which Sizhui knows to translate as wholehearted approval.
He bows to his fathers and disappears from the library. Wei Wuxian falls against Lan Wangji’s arm as soon as he’s gone.
“Ah, Lan Zhan. I rushed here to tell you about how I saw them kiss in the woods, but A-Hui beat me to it. I suppose they’d just decided at that moment to tell us, you think?”
“Mn.”
“If I didn’t already know Jingyi to be a good boy, I’d have to kill him.” Wei Wuxian sneaks a look at Lan Wangji, who doesn’t look amused. “No fun, Lan Zhan, no fun.” He taps a finger on the table and at Lan Wangji’s prompting expression says, “Well, I suppose they’ll be needing a chaperone now, eh? Can I volunteer to keep an eye on Jingyi? Break a leg or two?”
“Wei Ying.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m kidding,” Wei Wuxian says with a half-pout. “Huh. Maybe this is how Grand Master Qiren feels about me defiling the soul of his youngest nephew. I think I understand now.”
“You did not ‘defile’ anything,” Lan Wangji says without pause.
“My good husband.” Wei Wuxian presses a kiss to his cheek, followed by a gentle pat to the other. Although he’s smiling, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Lan Wangji covers Wei Wuxian’s hand carefully with his, wordlessly asking for Wei Wuxian to speak his mind.
“It’s nothing. Only what Sizhui mentioned about our past. I don’t want to marry away our son but I… I am grateful that they don’t have to endure… all we had to endure. No mortifyingly long wait to reach their happily ever after. I’m glad for it.”
Lan Wangji nods his agreement and brushes a kiss against his husband’s hand, making him blush. “A-Zhan!” he says with feigned astonishment. “Not in the library! Shameless.” Wei Wuxian knows he isn’t imagining the amused, pleased look on Wangji’s face, and he can’t hide his own smile at the sight. He still pulls out of Lan Wangji’s grip and says, “I don’t want to be responsible for any damage here, Gods forbid Qiren’s wrath finds me! Later?”
“Mn. Later.”
Wei Wuxian dimples at Lan Wangji, firing off a wink, before hightailing it for the Gods know where.
Lan Wangji returns to his writing, but pauses as he thinks about the hour’s events. His son will be married surely within a year, perhaps have children of his own. The thoughts of a new baby to hold and Sizhui being loved so dearly bring such an unexpected wave of warmth to Lan Wangji that he decides, for today, he can put work to the side. He goes off to find his family growing, or perhaps the ‘later’ he’d been promised.
#i love them to no end#also wanting to write nhs/wn but theyre such a rare pair lmaooo#honestly so are ljy/lsz so what am i saying dkjkfhdkj#my writing#zhuiyi#lan jingyi x lan sizhui#the untamed#ao3#archive of our own#fics#mlm#c drama#cdrama
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you're 4 and you're very confused. a man with a gentle smile leads you away from the doctors when you're finally allowed to leave. the doctors call him zewu-jun, so you start calling him that too.
zewu-jun leads you to your room. you don’t remember this room but he tells you that it’s yours now. you don’t want to stay alone in there. you feel like crying for some reason. with a gentle smile on his face zewu-jun promises you that he will be nearby, he will always be nearby if you need him. you trust him for some reason.
later zewu-jun introduces you to an old man who always frowns his brows. zewu-jun calls him uncle. everyone else calls him master lan. you don’t like the way he frowns his brows all the time or the way his face gets sad when he looks at you. you don’t call him anything.
you're 5 and zewu-jun tells you that he wants to share a secret with you, but you can’t tell anyone. you feel really important because by this time you learn that zewu-jun is a sect leader, and he must really trust you if he wants to share a secret with you. you promise not to tell anybody. so zewu-jun leads you to the edge of cloud recesses, to a small lonely house. that’s where he introduces you to a man you have never seen before. somehow, he looks familiar. or maybe it’s just because he kind of looks like zewu-jun. zewu-jun calls him wangji. for some reason you want to call him rich-gege. you do not call him that.
the man you do not call rich-gege does not move much. he does not have the same gentle smile that zewu-jun has. but when he looks at you, you feel safe. and sad.
you’re 6 and you make a friend. he’s the first person to say out loud that master lan’s furrowed brows make him look scary. he’s loud and cheerful and when he’s around you don’t feel sad. but you still remember about the secret and you don’t tell anyone. not even your friend. not even if it makes you feel bad.
you're 7 and you finally see the man you do not call rich-gege again. he's outside his little house now. you’re happy that you don’t need to keep this secret anymore, but not for long. you notice that adults don’t talk about his little house or why he was away. they’re playing this confusing game where they pretend he’s never been away at all. you hear whispers, but no one says anything out loud. not even your friend. but at least he’s as confused as you are.
zewu-jun still calls him wangji, and so does master lan. your peers call him hanguang-jun. no one ever calls him lan zhan. you are certain you never heard anyone call him lan zhan. and yet, you hear someone calling this name in your head, in a voice you somehow know. a loud, ringing voice. you do not know whose voice it is. you're certain you have never heard this voice before.
you’re 8 and hanguang-jun is putting a bunny on your lap. the bunnies are not a secret but you have never seen anyone but you and hanguang-jun around these parts of cloud recesses. the bunnies are not a secret but you know that pets are not allowed in cloud recesses. you ask hanguang-jun why the bunnies are here then. “the rules should only be followed if they make sense” is the answer. you agree. doesn’t make sense not to have pets. and you like these bunnies. why doesn’t zewu-jun go with you to see bunnies? “ if zewu-jun wants, he can come with us one day.” can your friend also come with you? “your friend can come with us as well.”
you laugh when hanguang-jun puts another bunny on you. you see hanguang-jun smile.
you’re 9 and you learn that sometimes adults talk without saying any words. you learn it when you see the way master lan frowns his brows at hanguang-jun, the way hanguang-jun looks away, the way zewu-jun signs. but no one says a word. you think that they must be talking about the little house hanguang-jun spent so much time in. you think that because no one ever talks about that. but you still hear whispers.
you’re 10 and your friend asks you why hanguang-jun was so angry today. you look at him, surprised, because hanguang-jun wasn’t angry, he was just making a joke. your friend looks back at you, confused. “but he looked so angry, didn’t he?” he didn’t. he looks very different when he’s angry.
that’s how you learn that not everybody spends so much time listening to adults’ silent conversations.
you’re 11 and you find yourself at the cold springs. you’re not supposed to be here, but you got lost in your thoughts and your feet led you to them. you want to go back but then you notice a familiar figure. it’s hanguang-jun. he’s standing still in the healing water of the cold springs, but it’s something else that catches your eye. there are lines on his back. you move slowly, carefully, not making any noise. you’re not supposed to be here but you can’t turn away for some reason. you see them clearly now. the scars.
you turn around and run. you’re not supposed to run around cloud recesses. you’re not supposed to talk about hanguang-jun’s little house in cloud recesses.
that’s how you learn that it’s not the only thing you’re not supposed to talk about in cloud recesses.
you’re 12 and you learn that sometimes adults say one thing but mean another. they also can be very, very, very rude. but if they mask it well enough, they will still sound polite. that is how sect leader jiang is. you learn that because hanguang-jun’s expression shifts and he’s angry, he is really angry. he doesn’t do anything though. you think that sect leader jiang wants him to do something, so he continues to be mean.
you don’t get it, but you remember it.
you’re 13 and you still have nightmares. they come with darkness and thunder, rain and shouts, faces flashing by, almost familiar, almost like you know them, like you can reach out and catch them, but they just disappear in an endless rain, their voices drown out by the thunder. you wake up, not remembering a single face. you want to cry for some reason. you know you’re too old to run to hanguang-jun because of a nightmare, but you can’t sleep, so you let your feet lead you to his house. coming closer you hear a melody. you’re certain you have never heard it before. you’re certain that somehow it sounds familiar. it makes you feel safe, it calms your mind. you stay like that, outside, not wishing to disturb hanguang-jun, until you feel your heart calm down completely. then you head back.
you’re 14 and there is a scary tale that parents tell their children when they misbehave. the tale is about a demon, a dark figure with red glowing eyes that moves through the night without making a single noise, steals children that don’t listen to their parents from their homes and drags them into its lair deep in the burial mounds.
most people call this tale, this person, yiling laozu. hanguang-jun calls him wei ying. master lan calls him wei wuxian in an intonation you have never heard from him before. that is not something you’re supposed to hear.
this happens when you learn about the lure flags for the first time. hanguang-jun meets master lan’s gaze and there is fire in hanguang-jun’s eyes. you feel scared, but not of hanguang-jun or master lan. you feel scared of things they don’t talk about. you feel scared of conversations adults have without saying any words.
you’re 15 and you decide that if adults can’t do it, you will speak for them.
and so you do. the next time sect leader jiang decides, for some reason, to find a hidden far away line of hanguang-jun’s patience, you step up. there is a gentle smile on your face, the same smile that zewu-jun always has when he wants to calm someone’s heated debate. miraculously, it works. so from now on, you speak whenever hanguang-jun doesn’t.
you’re 16 and you think that, maybe, it’s less of a miracle and more of a logical outcome. not everyone spends so much time listening to adults’ silent conversations. not everyone can see through zewu-jun’s polite smile and notice how tired he is. not everyone can see through hanguang-jun’s cold demeanor and understand how much is going through his mind at the moment. not everyone is allowed close enough to see the sadness in master lan’s eyes when he looks at you. not everyone can say that zewu-jun once shared a secret with them. not everyone knows as many secrets as you do.
so it’s really not a miracle. it makes sense when you know what to say or how to smile in a way so it always reaches your eyes. all of it really makes sense.
you’re 17 and zewu-jun seems to be lost in thoughts when he suddenly tells you, "i miss the times when you were asking a lot of questions. you seem so quiet these days when you don't have to work as wanji's interpreter." there is a smile on his face, a gentle familiar smile with a tint of sadness in it.
you think about all the questions you're not sure you can ask. could zewu-jun be the one to give you the answers? but no, you don't want to worry zewu-jun more than he already is. so you think about other questions, safer ones. you find out that you still have a lot of them. and when a question seems a bit straight-forward or out of place, jingyi is always right there next to you, ready to be a loud voice others simply cannot disregard.
you’re 18 and there are still questions you can’t ask.
you’re 19 and you still have nightmares. they are duller now, quieter. but they are still here.
you’re 20 and you meet a man everybody considers crazy. you can clearly see he is not. everyone calls him names. you call him young master mo. he has a bright smile and a loud voice, and when he’s beside you, you feel safe. you’re certain you have never met him before.
you’re … ... and you’re trying to sleep. it’s dark and uncomfortable and you keep hearing noises from the outside, like something is creeping just behind the door. then you hear a melody. a flute. you know this sound. you know what it means. you are safe. you finally fall asleep.
you’re 20 and you ask jingyi if he remembers his childhood, the early parts of it, anything before he was around four. he tells you that there is not much to remember that early in life. maybe he's right. maybe there is not much to remember. is there?
you’re ... ... and you're wrapped tightly in a blanket, secured on somebody's back. it almost feels safe if not for the terrible rain, and the terrible cold, and the terrible thunder that strikes as you almost fall asleep. and the terrible people, those terrible terrible people. you miss your warm bed, you remember there was a warm bed once. you miss your sister. you remember you had a sister. once.
you’re 20 and you meet a man everybody considers a monster. you can clearly see he is not. everyone calls him the ghost general. you call him wen-xiansheng. he speaks in a quiet voice and looks at you like he knows you. you are not certain you have never met him before.
you’re … … and a butterfly is flying over your head. you’re laughing as someone’s pale hands lower the butterfly so you can catch it. you’re holding it now, it’s as pretty as it was the first day you saw it, one of its wings is only a little bit broken. you hear someone call, “a-yuan!” holding the butterfly as high as you can you run towards the voice. you almost trip on your way there, but before you can fall you’re caught. “a-yuan, be careful”, your aunt’s voice, always so stern, softens a little bit just for you.
you’re 20 and as you stand in the middle of the road, wiping tears off your cheeks, you finally get your answers. well, most of them anyway. but most importantly, now, with hanguang-jun, wen-xiansheng and wei-qianbei next to you, you finally remember who you are. you are lan sizhui and you are wen yuan, and you will not let it be taken from you again.
#ok this turned out a bit longer than i thought it would be#i just think about a-yuan a lot ok#i even reread this one but i'm also half-asleep#so no promises that this is not a mess#also no capitalisation again#and look at me trying to do math#in a story where math and time doesn't exist#cql#the untamed#sizhui#lan sizhui#lwj#lan xichen#wen ning#wwx#lan jingyi#lan qiren#jiang cheng#fics
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Xicheng Rec List
I compiled my favorite fics for @waterandsilver after they posted they were finally seeing the appeal of Xicheng. I volunteered to give them good fics to help them understand better the appeal of our ship! So, here we go!
Post-Canon Fics
A Bit of Ruthlessness 110,111
When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proven time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.
Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.
Moments of Clarity 5,201
Snapshots of Lan Huan's road to recovery with a helping hand from Sandu Shengshou.
Companion piece from Jiang Cheng’s POV: A Present so Promising
Faith 8,109 [Part 1 of the The Provenance of Hope series]
Lan Huan isn’t sure he’s ready for this.
(or, Lan Huan and Jiang Cheng meet on a night hunt.)
Visiting Cloud Recesses 7,566 [Part 1 of the Visiting Cloud Recesses series]
Since the sunshot campaign they haven't interacted a lot outside of sect business, but Jiang Cheng has always found the First Jade of Lan gracious and pleasant to be around. Especially in comparison to his younger brother, who would never smile at Jiang Cheng the way Lan Xichen is right now, as if he's genuinely happy to see him.
It's easier to let go (let me hold you) 24,464
Five times someone noticed something was wrong and the one time someone did something about it.
Carried on the wind 1,129 [Part 1 of the The courtship of Jiang Wanyin & Lan Xichen series]
Lan Xichen’s voice is very soft when he says: “Today is the day our mother died.”
Overgrown 1,408 [Part 1 of the Coming home to you series]
Jiang Cheng has better things to do than follow Lan Xichen around Lotus Pier, and yet here he is.
Regret 2,290
Lan Xichen is left standing in his garden, his garden of regret and shame and all the bad things Lan Xichen hates about himself, and suddenly he can’t stand it for one second longer.
A lovely name 3,146 [Part 1 of the Paws for thought series]
Jiang Cheng doesn’t like the feeling of a curse sinking through his skin at the best of times, and now he’s a fucking cat, because Wei Wuxian thinks he’s hilarious. Well, he won’t find it so hilarious when Jiang Cheng changes back and breaks his legs.
Breaking Anew 20,389
There are different ways a person can break. It is a lesson Jiang Cheng will spend his life learning.
Under The Morning Sun 22,739
Jiang Cheng returns to Cloud Recesses to find peace and stability. Instead, he finds an unexpected romance with Lan Xichen.
Sequel: Strength of Your Love
(nothing special) (something special) 4,950
Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen both have jagged edges. But perhaps their broken pieces can fit together into something new.
Sequel: won't you say you love me later
Come to Decide 2,381 [Part 1 of the Little Talks series]
“This is why I lose sleep over you,” Jiang Cheng murmured. “You might think I’m pining for your touch or your voice or your gaze, but no - I’m just worrying about you being an idiot.”
Don't stop being rude 2,582
“The Hanshi,” Lan Jingyi suddenly says, effectively jolting Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts, and bowing again.
“Please talk some sense into Zewu-Jun.”
“Oh, that I will,” Jiang Cheng promises and when a tiny spark of fear enters Lan Jingyi’s eyes, he gives him his sweetest smile before he walks off.
“Oh gods, what have I done,” he hears Lan Jingyi mutter behind him, but he doesn’t try to stop him.
Clever boy.
Don't let him win 1,685
“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asks him, voice much softer now, and he’s quick to carefully rub some warmth back into Lan Xichen’s hands.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Xichen whispers, the same thing he always says when Jiang Cheng forces his way into Lan Xichen’s seclusion, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t give less of a fuck about this.
“Well, neither should you,” he gives back, a well-rehearsed dance by now, and Lan Xichen’s mouth twists in that all too familiar way.
Good things about Yunmeng 3,343
Or, the one where Jiang Cheng attempts the impossible.
Love Is For Other People 3,704
It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng never thought about it. About love, that was.
Listless 1,787
When Jiang Cheng came up with his list, he knew that everyone else's would be different from his. It just hurts to find out again and again that he would never be the first.
And then there's Xichen.
twinkle of a bell 7,821
Jiang Cheng and Lan Huan meet at the abandoned village, looking for at least a glimpse of a new life.
Tread 1,647
“I’m going to take him with me,” Jiang Cheng says and even though Lan Xichen can’t see them, he can feel the tension in the air.
“No,” comes Wangji’s almost immediate answer, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Not that it ever stopped Jiang Cheng before.
these tears flowing down aren't a waste 2,002
“How do I confess my love to someone?” Jin Ling asks.
“Do I look like someone who has been in love?” Jiang Cheng questions back.
Through a Storm that Never Goes Away 32,948
For all of that, for his inherent complicitness in Jin Guangyao’s crimes, for trying to maintain impartiality until he had enough evidence, Lan Xichen could understand wanting him dead.
He could even understand if there were those who still felt the need to take some revenge for what Jin Guangyao did and were dissatisfied that he was dead. Lan Xichen might look like an acceptable target.
But to target Wangji as well...
I am cursed to love you (to the grave) 39,410
Jiang Cheng can't sleep.
The Comfort of You 24,904 [Part 1 of the The Belonging series]
On the eve of Jin Ling's 20th birthday, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen take a step forward into a life that will forever be changed.
(Three years after the events of Guanyin Temple Lan Xichen asks a pivotal question of the man he's been falling in love with for the past year. Jiang Cheng has never really felt what he feels for Lan Xichen and falls apart in his hands. And that's okay.)
I Put You First 7,178
Lan Xichen gets a little jealous when the Other Boys thirst over Sect Leader Jiang. Luckily, Jiang Cheng only has eyes for one man.
Canon Era Fics
A Small Measure of Peace 122,790
With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.
There's Hope for the Hopeless 11,791
Part of being Sect Leader means going to weddings, both those important to him and those that he is convinced to attend.
5 times Jiang Cheng went to a wedding + his own.
A good night's rest 1,795 [Part 1 of the Sing for me series]
Jiang Cheng is standing at the end of the pier, clad in simple sleeping robes, and he’s walking up and down, bouncing a sniffling Jin Ling on his arm. And he is singing to the boy, his voice soft and low, but clear enough to ring out over the water and carry.
Lan Xichen stops dead in his tracks and keeps still, not wanting to disturb Jiang Cheng or upset Jin Ling again. The boy is clearly fighting sleep, but the steady movement of Jiang Cheng and his lullaby are doing wonders in dragging him to sleep anyway.
Beside You 6,624 [Part 1 of the Lan Furen series]
Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier behind him, giving up his position, his family and his home to start a new life as a rogue cultivator. He can't quite make himself leave Yunmeng completely though, not just yet, and as he loiters on the outskirts he comes across Lan Xichen, evidently on the run.
Together, they fret for themselves, their loved ones and each other as the Wens and impending danger draws closer.
The Desperate Search Began 2,361 [Part 1 of the Some Day I'm Gonna Make You Mine series]
It starts with a fight, Jin Zixun and Jiang Wanyin bumping heads over a battle plan. The Sunshot campaign will not slow for one brush of ego, but Jin Zixun has found himself outranked by a boy that he feels of no consequence compared to a member of the shining Jin sect.
When Nie Mingjue is present, or even Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun keeps his counsel. He does not push. Sadly, the bruise to his ego will not appear to have forgotten that while he is a valued member of their war council, Jiang Wanyin is a sect leader now. The fact that he’s a boy younger than even Jin Zixuan, rankles.
Add that they are only witnessed by Lan Xichen and Jin Zixun becomes a discredit to Lanling Jin.
remember these words i say 4,133
“Please, allow me to fix this.” Lan Xichen finds himself asking, begging. It is for his own peace of mind, but it is also for Jiang Cheng and for Jin Ling, for the people of Lotus Pier who have watched their home burn and fought hard to build it back.
“I do not know how you could.” Jiang Cheng points out.
Lan Xichen nods in agreement. “I do not know either, now, but –” Wangji isn’t the only stubborn one in the family, “I will find a way.” He promises, determined.
fill the cracks in (with your light) 2,947 [Part 1 of the moments through the years series]
Lan Xichen's voice doesn't have the usual light note in it when he asks, “What are we doing, Jiang Wanyin?”
Waxing Moon 1,925 [Part 1 of Soft]
After Wei Wuxian was sent home from Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng realizes it's pretty lonely without him. Luckily, sulking on a rooftop leads to a new friendship.
Tipsy at best 2,458
Jiang Cheng tugs Nie Huaisang along, and they are stumbling more than walking, but in their inebriated state even that is funny.
They are snickering still when they suddenly see a figure in white appear at the end of the path.
“Uh-oh,” Jiang Cheng says, and it’s entirely too loud, but he’s still too drunk to care about that right now.
Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, seems to have sobered up, because his eyes take on a calculating glint behind his fan.
“Say, Jiang Cheng, what were your requirements for a partner again?” Nie Huaisang asks and it’s enough to make Jiang Cheng stop.
it all passes someday 13,638
A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.
Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.
Punishment 5,415 [Part 1 of the The Rules of Living series]
“33 lashes,” one of the Elders suddenly coldly says and Lan Xichen’s stomach turns over. “20 for his brother and 13 for daring to defy us,” he goes on and Lan Xichen bows his head in acceptance.
The same punishment Lan Wangji endured. Lan Xichen can do it, too.
And he manages, without a sound, like Lan Wangji, if only just barely.
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HALLOWEEN ...[Please reblog?]
Here they are, stories suitable to the season!
No one really had anything to add to my original list, so this is almost unchanged from the first post. But now it’s formatted after my usual template, and I’m calling it official.
This post is not showing up in tag searches, and I can’t figure out why. So REBLOG, my lovies, REBLOG... or no one will see it in time for Halloween!
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~*~Ghosts/Haunting~*~
The Guests of Cloud Recesses by cafecliche (T, 11k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: “We’re in this together, you know,” Wei Wuxian says. “You’re dead. I used to be dead. We’re both tolerated and incredibly unwelcome here. We both annoy the same people, as far as I can tell. I’ve built relationships on less. Let’s work this out.”
But again, there’s no response.
(Or: there’s a ghost in the Cloud Recesses.)
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one good thing by Yuu_chi (T, 27k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: ei Wuxian has been haunting his childhood home for three years. He's perfected the fine art of scaring away all the tenants, and has grown used to living with the dying flowers in the garden as his only company.
When Lan Wangji buys the house, Wei Wuxian fully intends to drive him off too. Except Lan Wangji is beautiful, and interesting, and captivating company - even if he supposedly doesn't know Wei Wuxian exists.
*Podfic with great sound effects by jellyfishfire here.
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The Cruelty of Fate by Procrastination_Sensation (T, 16k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: “Wei Ying,” he manages, a breathy croak, and peers past his eyelashes to watch those grey eyes widen. They swirl with more emotions than he can name at the moment- emotions that he has not seen in those eyes for years, and his heart aches further as he watches the other swallow visibly, trembling hands reaching up to tentatively hold his own outstretched one, though they pass through each other like the other is made of mist.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes, and the shadows under his eyes darken as his face scrunches up, looking like he’s about to cry.
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❤️ Lan Sizhui Sees Dead People by darkbrokenreaper (T, 20k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary (from 1st work): Nearly two months after finding and adopting Lan Yuan, Lan Wangji begins to notice an odd quirk of his child.
Also: Lan Sizhui sees dead people. This becomes a constant source of strife for Lan Wangji who notices his son sees a spirit he calls “Mother”.
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Night Bus by Suspicious_Popsicle (G, 3k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: When he came to, the bus was on the freeway. The windows were dewed with drops of melted snow that shone with captured light. Outside, traffic was at a standstill. Dingy slush covered the roads, gradually accumulating as snow drifted down from the woolen sky, the flakes picked out in sharp contrast where they plunged into the light of streetlamps and headlights. Wei WuXian laughed softly to see it. When he turned away from the window, he saw that the beautiful man from earlier was still sitting next to him, watching him with an expression that might, optimistically, be called inquisitive.
“The snow,” Wei WuXian said, gesturing outside. “It looks like champagne bubbles, only going the wrong way.” He laughed again, and rubbed his head. “Have you ever felt drunk, but been pretty sure you weren’t drinking? Haha, no, never mind me. I’m just tired.” He rubbed a hand over his face, wanting desperately to sleep.
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The Tale of Hanguang-Jun’s One Hundred Ghosts by enea (T, 18k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: Wei Wuxian dresses as a mysterious storyteller to recount a tale about Hanguang-Jun to the kids in Caiyi Town while the members of his family, more or less inconspicuously, sneak up to listen.
Or; Wei Wuxian lets some ghosts possess his body, Jiang Cheng misses his brother, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi convince Wen Ning to help them evade from the Cloud Recesses, and everybody loves Hanguang-Jun.
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NIGHT HUNTING by detention_notes (T, 31k, wangxian) my bookmark here.
Summary: Wei Ying, Lan Zhan, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning film a campy ghost-hunting show in their spare time. (Hey, it's a good break from the stress of their day jobs.) But as episodes unfold, their lives are littered with a slew of spooky scenarios. And when hijinks turn to chaos, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying must pause their PDA (alas!) to discover who’s been contacting them. And why. And how the hell to make it stop.
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Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller (T, 15k, wangxian) my bookmark here.
Summary: Wei Wuxian's spirit lingers.
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~*~Vampire~*~
WEI WUXIAN, VAMPIRE HUNTER by Suspicious_Popsicle (T, 20k wangxian) my post here.
Summary: Lan WangJi had actually attacked him that first night. Over a bit of liquor! A vampire, hiding in plain sight in one of the four great sects, had attacked him for trying to enter the Cloud Recesses after curfew with liquor!
The hypocrisy of some people!
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~*~Werewolf~*~
Full Moon Blues by Unforth (E, 39k, wangxian) my bookmark here.
Summary: When Wei Ying gets a text from Lan Zhan indicating that they need to talk, Wei Ying assumes the worst - that Lan Zhan wants to break up with him. The reality turns out to be far stranger, and far worse, than he ever imagined...
...until it's far, far better than he could have dreamed...
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❤️ The Beast of Gusu by Netrixie (M, 212k, wangxian, nielan) my post here.
Summary: A world where I went, “What if Wei Ying was a wolf?” and then ran with it. We’ve got wangxian, nielan, fluff and angst, soft!boys and A-Yuan. You’ll want to get comfortable, because part 1 is 150k words :)
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❤️Ribbons and Heartsongs by jeyhawk (E, 37k, wangxian) my post here.
Summary: High Fantasy/Science Fiction AU.
The cot looked like a death trap. It was held together by a bunch of leather straps connected to a metal frame. Even with a mattress put on top it looked like a torture device.
“If I die in the night, I will come back to haunt you,” Wei Wuxian said, eyeing it.
“It is not for you,” Lan Wangji said.
“What? I’m a prisoner. Of course I’m taking the cot.”
“You are a guest and you are taking the bed.”
“I’m not taking the bed. Come on, I can’t let you sleep on that. If you die everyone will blame me.”
“I will not die.”
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~*~Horror~*~
medium blues by dark_and_terrible (E, 193k, wangxian, my post)
Summary: Wei Wuxian is down on his luck.
He’s probably the only legit medium in the city of Lotus, able to contact all manner of dearly deceased spirits and gaggles of ghosts. Still, he makes his living off of bunk palm readings and crystal ball tricks, and it’s barely enough to keep him going. Wei Wuxian is broke. And, he’s about to be very down on his luck. A plague of suspicious hauntings brings him to the attention of the Bureau of Investigation, but he has no idea how involved in it he will be until he meets…
Lan Wangji is the youngest detective in the Bureau, with one of the highest closure rates within recent years’ records. He’s sharp and obsessive, which lends well to his work with investigating. The one thing he can’t account for is ghosts, and he’s a constant skeptic when it comes to the question of their presence…that is, until, he meets Wei Wuxian. They’re thrown together by way of crossing paths in an investigation, but after Lan Wangji’s eyes are opened to the fact that his culprit might not be fully of the flesh, he finds Wei Wuxian more indispensable than he ever thought he would.
Everybody needs a good partner.
in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 10k, wangxian, my bookmark)
Summary: A ghost takes root in Wei Wuxian's body.
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~*~Follower Recs I Haven’t Read Yet:~*~
The Batsh*t Adventures of the Junior Quartet: Halloween Edition by KTheKryptid (no rating, 5k, WIP)
Summary: What happens when our four favorite juniors, a talking bird, and a random bunny who keeps changing names get lost in the Burial Mounds?
A lot of chaos, actually. The juniors set out to find their way back home, but only seem to get themselves into stranger and stranger situations. Talking radish people, giant rabbit hauntings, a magical clown horn. The adventures are endless (not really. The fic does end. Sorry) With a weird Woodsman occasionally helping them and the looming threat of whatever the heck Lianfang-zun is, will they ever make it back home?
Listen guys. It's an Over the Garden Wall AU. That's that.
#Wangxian Fic Rec#The Untamed#wangxian#mdzs#mdzs halloween stories#wangxianficrecs presents#the untamed halloween fics#ghost stories#hauntings#vampires#werewolves#horror
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Lan Jingyi doesn't know what he's going to do. He knows he's not a sect heir or a first disciple or the best student in the Cloud Recesses, but he is a perfectly capable cultivator. He has led a night hunt, he has accompanied Wei-qianbei on essential journeys for Hanguang-jun, and he can beat Jin Ling six times out of ten when they spar. So, the sensation he feels now—complete helplessness—has been unfamiliar to him for a long time.
It's the middle of the night. For all that Lan Jingyi has a tendency to stretch or ignore certain of the Lan rules, he generally keeps the proper hours by habit. Everything is unfamiliar under the clouded dark sky, the paths that Lan Jingyi can walk with his eyes closed suddenly new and strange. He had woken, and he hadn't known why for a moment. But then he heard something outside, the noise of someone walking none too carefully down the paths, and Lan Jingyi was curious by nature and untrusting by recent experience, and so he threw on an outer robe and slipped out of his rooms.
There had been a person in dark robes striding between the buildings, and for a second, Lan Jingyi thought it was Wei-qianbei, but that thought passed quickly. This person was stiffer in bearing and seemed unfamiliar with the Cloud Recesses. They were also carrying a sword, unsheathed and at the ready. Lan Jingyi had not thought to grab his own sword when he followed the noise. He'd been expecting a young disciple sneaking around, or maybe someone returning from a night hunt, or even someone taking a walk to find peace from troubling dreams. How did this person get through the wards?
Lan Jingyi had followed the intruder silently, hoping that he could figure out where they were headed, or maybe even come up with a plan to stop them. They had made it nearly all the way across the Cloud Recesses, and Lan Jingyi still hadn't thought of anything, the fear of what they might do and the determination not to let them get away keeping him moving regardless. Suddenly, the figure had paused, looking around. Before Lan Jingyi could panic, they'd turned decisively down the small path between two of the buildings, and Lan Jingyi had waited a moment before darting after them.
The intruder had been waiting for him, and now here he is, a sword pointed at his throat as an unfamiliar woman stares coldly at him.
"What do you want?" Lan Jingyi asks. Maybe he can keep her talking long enough that someone will notice them. Then again, who would be awake to hear?
The expression on the woman's face doesn't change. "I want a lot of things, little Lan," she says. "Right now, I want to know how you found me, and then maybe, if you're cooperative, you can lead me where I want to go."
His first instinct is to laugh at her, but he manages to restrain himself. Lan Jingyi has no interest in dying, and he's fairly certain that is exactly what laughing right now would lead to. He can't completely help himself, though, and he says, "If you'd come in the daytime, there would be plenty of people who could show you to where you wished."
"Well, I'm here now," she says brusquely. "How did you find me?"
Should he try to bluff? Give the impression that others might also find her? It depends on how much she knows of the Lan sect, probably. She seems to be looking for something, and she knew a way in, which suggests at least knowledge of the basic workings of the Cloud Recesses. She also clearly doesn't know where she's going, so it's doubtful she's ever been here before.
"I heard you," Lan Jingyi says, and waits to see how she takes it.
The woman only raises an eyebrow. "I thought all you Lans were supposed to be asleep now," she says.
She hasn't tried to kill him yet, so Lan Jingyi lets himself relax ever so slightly. "I'm a light sleeper," he says, with a little of his usual cheer.
It doesn't seem to deter her. "Will anyone else come sneaking after me?"
Lan Jingyi shrugs. He has honestly no idea. The woman's eyes narrow.
"Well, in that case, why don't you lead me to my destination, and then I can be gone before any other light sleepers hear me."
"Where are you trying to go?" he asks.
The woman smiles for the first time, and a chill runs down Lan Jingyi's spine. It reminds him of Yi City. "The library, little Lan."
He had wondered if that was her goal. There isn't much that someone would have heard of to steal from the Cloud Recesses that wasn't in the library. At least she isn't here to kill someone, which Lan Jingyi had also wondered about. He doesn't want to know what she's looking for, or what she'll do once she reaches the library.
"I'm sure I could give you directions and then be on my way," he says, mind racing. How can he get backup? Sizhui is away, traveling, and the Jingshi is too far away to reach in time. They are in a section of the Cloud Recesses mostly populated by buildings used during the day, so reaching anywhere with other people will be difficult. If he had his sword he'd fly, but if he had his sword, he could fight her, too.
Shaking her head, she says, "And let you run off for help? No, you'll lead me yourself," and lunges. She's quick, and Lan Jingyi doesn't have a chance to do anything besides yelp before the woman is behind him, her sword held across his throat. "Go on," she says in his ear. "Take me to the library. And if you make any more noise, I'll cut out your tongue."
Fuck. Lan Jingyi starts walking toward the library, trying desperately to find a way out of this. Maybe once they're at the library, he can get away from her? But what if she's not trying to steal from them, what if she wants to destroy the library? He can't take that chance, can he?
Before Lan Jingyi can start to formulate a plan, someone speaks from behind them.
"Let him go."
The woman spins, keeping her sword at Lan Jingyi's throat and her other hand at his back, and she isn't careful about it. The sword cuts into the side of his neck. It doesn't hurt much, he's had worse, but he can feel blood start to well up.
At first, Lan Jingyi thinks it's Hanguang-jun who'd spoken, having heard the low, forceful voice. He sees a tall figure in white, the bright gleam of a sword, an imposing shape in the night. How could he have gotten here so quickly, Lan Jingyi thinks, the Jingshi isn't anywhere near here. And then his eyes pick out a few more details, and he thinks he can be forgiven for his mistake. Lan Jingyi hasn't seen Zewu-jun in nearly a year, and he's never seen him this stone-faced.
"No," the woman growls, gripping the back of Lan Jingyi's robes tighter. "Stay back, or I'll kill him."
Zewu-jun's face doesn't even twitch. "Why have you invaded the Cloud Recesses and threatened one of our own?"
The woman laughs, and Lan Jingyi tries hard not to flinch away. It's a loud, mirthless sound, right in his ear. She says, "Who are you to demand answers from me?" If he weren't being held as a hostage, Lan Jingyi would gape at her. Surely she can tell that Zewu-jun is an inner sect member even if she doesn't know precisely who he is.
"Irrelevant," Zewu-jun says, and even now that Lan Jingyi has realized who it is, he still has a moment of confusion. Zewu-jun has never sounded so much like his brother. "Tell me why you're here, quickly. I don't wish to disturb anyone else."
"She was going to the library," Lan Jingyi burst out. The woman pushes her sword against his neck. He thinks he can feel more blood.
Zewu-jun takes a step closer. "Thank you, Lan Jingyi," he says. "That will not be allowed to happen. I have protected the texts of the Lan sect before. No one will ever touch them without permission again."
"Who's going to stop me?" the woman challenges.
Lan Jingyi thinks he sees a slight twist to Zewu-jun's mouth before he moves, swiftly throwing a talisman at them. He's moving too quickly for Lan Jingyi to see clearly, but he feels the woman freeze and himself gently pushed away. By the time the woman has unfrozen, Lan Jingyi is on the ground out of her reach, and Zewu-jun is in front of her, sword at the ready.
The woman grunts, swinging her sword at Zewu-jun. He brings Shuoyue up effortlessly, blocking her strike and forcing her sword to the side. She's not bad, Lan Jingyi realizes. The woman doesn't use any style he's seen before, which fits with the rogue cultivator theory he's been building, but she moves quickly and her blade is steady. She must be a cultivator because the sword she uses clearly has spiritual energy behind it, but she sticks close to the ground, barely using her energy for anything besides the control of the sword.
They trade blows for a few moments, the woman fierce and aggressive, Zewu-jun striking efficiently at every opening she leaves. It's clear to Lan Jingyi that she will tire long before he does. He's never seen Zewu-jun truly fight before, and it's incredible. There are similarities to how Hanguang-jun fights, but Hanguang-jun tends to start out strong, overwhelming opponents with power they can't hope to match with the aim of ending any fights quickly and permanently. It seems that Zewu-jun waits, biding his time with perfectly executed maneuvers (Lan Jingyi thinks, with a sort of distantly hysterical humor, that he should take notes) until he can strike out.
It doesn't take long for that point to come. The woman backs away panting.
"Why are you here?" Zewu-jun asks again. He's not even out of breath.
The woman spits a bit of blood onto the ground. "Fuck you," she snarls, and lunges forward again. Zewu-jun doesn't even block, just leaps to the side, avoiding her strike. She's definitely losing her control.
"Did you come to steal from our library or to damage it?" is Zewu-jun's next question, delivered alongside a quick stab toward her arm that she barely jumps out of the way of.
"Steal, of course," she says breathlessly. "You won't stop me," she boasts. Lan Jingyi rolls his eyes. Doesn't she realize she's losing? The woman continues, "I've already managed to sneak in once, I'll do it again. Next time I'll just kill anyone who gets in my way."
Zewu-jun's back is to Lan Jingyi, so he can't see what expression is on Zewu-jun's face. Something changes in his posture, though, and he goes on the offensive, leaping toward her with a long slice of Shuoyue. It hits her shoulder as she tries to sidestep him.
"You will not," he snaps. The woman brings her sword up again, aiming for his neck, but Zewu-jun blocks it with his sword's sheath. She tries to kick him, but he pivots forcefully, negating her blow and bringing his sheath down to hit the back of her knee. She staggers to the ground.
Shuoyue glints as Zewu-jun brings it up to her throat. "Tell me how you got in," he says, his voice steady.
The woman glares up at him and pulls her arm back to swing her sword once more. Before she even has it off the ground, her sword goes flying as Shuoyue sweeps through the air and lodges in her hand. She screams.
"I asked you several questions which you have refused to answer," Zewu-jun says, returning the tip of his blade to her throat. "You have threatened one of my disciples, the security of our home, and the most sacred possessions we have. You cannot possibly believe you will be allowed to walk free."
"You all think you're so special," she sneers, but Lan Jingyi sees her swallow and her eyes dart around. "Plenty of you still died just like everyone else during the Sunshot Campaign. All those pretty jade pendants had to go somewhere, and some of them made their way to people who're happy to sell them. It's not hard to get a hold of one."
"I see," Zewu-jun's voice has gone even colder, and Lan Jingyi is starting to fear what exactly he might do. This isn't what Lan Jingyi is used to from him. Zewu-jun was never stern, not like Hanguang-jun or xiansheng. "We will look into this. Thank you for this information." He steps back, and the woman kneels there for a moment, her hand bleeding sluggishly. Before she can move, Zewu-jun slashes his hand through the air and a glowing binding appears around her. She falls to the ground awkwardly. "You will be shown before the Lan elders in the morning. They will pass judgement." Zewu-jun turns away from the woman struggling on the ground.
Lan Jingyi can't help but stare at him. When Zewu-jun comes to him, he kneels down. "Are you okay?" he asks, helping Lan Jingyi up.
"Yeah, I'm… fine. Are… how did you know to come out?" Lan Jingyi sneaks a glance at the woman, face-down on the path. "Are you… okay?"
Zewu-jun smiles for the first time that night, but it's faint and tired looking. "I'm alright. I wasn't asleep, and I heard you." They're not far from the Hanshi, Lan Jingyi realizes now.
"I'm sorry you had to come out of seclusion for me," Lan Jingyi says.
"Don't apologize for that," Zewu-jun says, shaking his head. "I would be a poor sect leader if I allowed one of our disciples to be harmed within our own walls."
Lan Jingyi looks back at the woman again. "Should we… do something with her?"
The night is still very dark, but he can see Zewu-jun's face go cold again. "I suppose we should. I find myself disinclined to show mercy to those who try to violate the safety of the Cloud Recesses." He sighs, and Lan Jingyi remembers, in a slow trickle of half-forgotten lessons, the stories of Zewu-jun saving ancient texts from the burning of the Cloud Recesses.
"We could always leave her by the wall of discipline," he says, determinedly cheerful. "She did break a whole lot of rules."
Zewu-jun looks at him and smiles again, this time a little more genuine. "It's certainly tempting. It would likely be better if we were to leave her in a warded guest chamber, though. That way we'll know exactly where our visitor is."
Lan Jingyi huffs. "I suppose," he says, sounding as petulant as he can muster. It usually works to cheer Sizhui up, so he figures it will probably work on Zewu-jun. "You're not going to make me copy rules for this, are you?" He's not actually worried, but the normality feels necessary at the moment.
"No, I think we can overlook this once, since your actions led to the prevention of something that could have been very bad." Zewu-jun walks over to the woman and places a talisman on her head. She slumps suddenly, and Lan Jingyi thinks he hears snoring. The binding disappears, and Zewu-jun motions him over. They get her propped up between the two of them and start walking toward the guest quarters.
"Can I just say," Lan Jingyi starts, trying not to sound too delighted. It would be improper but also… "That was so cool," he gushes.
At that, Zewu-jun even laughs a little. Lan Jingyi smiles to himself. He may not be the best disciple in the Cloud Recesses, but he can stop a thief, and more importantly, he can make people happy every once in a while. That's probably good enough.
#mdzs#the untamed#lan jingyi#mo dao zu shi#this is post canon! do not ask me any other questions i did not think about simply anything else#yes i am avoiding tagging another cahracter#its for the MYSTERY#thats why this isnt going on ao3 lol#thanks to remi for enabling me#my stuff
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seven nights to turn (2/4)
chapter two: from sixth to seventh night
Ship: Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning
Summary: Jiang Cheng counts the passage of time by nights, not days. He's spending the next seven in a cabin on the fringe of the Cloud Recesses. On the first night, he hears humming.
Rated E, Post-Canon, Hate Sex (in the previous chapter), Mentioned Canon-Typical Violence, Guilt, more jiang cheng brooding
< Ch. 1
read on AO3 or on Tumblr below
The humming stops.
Jiang Cheng waits, but there is no sound inside. He bangs on the door again. “Wen Qionglin!”
The door slides open abruptly. Wen Ning stares down at him from inside, his face covered in shadow.
For a few moments, neither of them move. Then Wen Ning steps aside, making room for Jiang Cheng to enter, his eyes never wavering in their sullen glare.
Jiang Cheng hesitates, then steps inside.
════ 白天 ════
The Lan servant carrying his breakfast finds him like that, folded on the floor like a heating talisman crumpled in the Ghost General’s fist.
“Get out!” Jiang Cheng shouts. He snatches up a set of robes and covers himself, jumps to his feet and stumbles.
The servant is trembling and wide-eyed, his gaze darting back and forth between the floor and Jiang Cheng. He fumbles with the tray of food and steps inside, trying his hardest to maintain proper posture. Because of course, the servant, rigid in the inane ways of the Lan, just has to complete the task of leaving the tray in its precise spot in his quarters and giving Jiang Cheng all the customary bows.
“Get out! Speak to no one of this!”
As soon as the boy backs out through the doorway, he breaks into a sprint, feet pounding on the path and crunching on fallen leaves as he flees.
Jiang Cheng groans and digs his knuckles into his temples. He’s had a headache coming on all week, but now it’s here in full force. His mouth is dry, his neck aches. And the rest of him…
Shameful. It’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be today.
He cleans himself, fixes his hair, gets dressed. He chooses the stateliest of his outfits. It doesn’t give him any of his dignity back, instead seeming to float over him, foreign and numb on his skin, as if the fabric does not want to touch him.
He looks in the mirror. His eyes are sunken.
A pendant in the window casts a sun-shaped shadow on his face; a faint circle, spoked and distorted.
He doesn’t look in the mirror again after that.
* * *
Two hours later, he’s standing outside the door of Wei Wuxian’s quarters. Birds chirp overhead, their songs sickeningly cheery. The wooden panel of the door glares back at him like an accusation, daring him to knock.
He doesn’t know why he’s here.
What does he even have to say to Wei Wuxian?
I saved your life before you ever saved mine? I just want to talk like brothers again? Your right-hand man fucked me last night?
He’s about to walk away when the door slides open.
“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian stands in the doorway, looking as startled as Jiang Cheng feels. “What are you doing here?”
Jiang Cheng’s stomach flips. He opens his mouth, then closes it, exhaling sharply as he straightens his spine, trying to look somewhat put together.
What is he doing here?
“Where are you headed?” Jiang Cheng says tersely, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s question. He’s always been more comfortable when he’s the one doing the questioning.
Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and leans against the doorpost. “I’m just making a trip to Caiyi Town to buy some orange oil for A-Yuan. It’s to clean the wood of his guqin. He ran out yesterday.”
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Aren’t you a dutiful shushu.”
Wei Wuxian shrugs.
Jiang Cheng turns to leave. He has to get out from under Wei Wuxian’s gaze before he figures out what Jiang Cheng did last night—who did him last night. The shame is already making his skin burn.
The hell did you come here for? Stupid, stupid—
“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian calls before he’s taken two steps away.
He sucks in a breath. “What.”
“…You look dead.”
“You!—And you look like you need a bone broken!”
Wei Wuxian just smiles and nods. Teasing. Obnoxious.
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by a bustle of footsteps as three juniors hurry over from the courtyard to bow in front of him. Their usual perfect Lan posture is disrupted by nervous sways and shuffles of feet that make their white robes ruffle. They look bewildered.
Jiang Cheng never thought he’d be so relieved to see anyone from the Lan Clan. The interruption is a chance for him to leave right now. Yet he stays in place, waiting to find out what chaos has befallen the Cloud Recesses.
“W-Wei-gongzi?” one of the juniors says.
“What happened?” Wei Wuxian looks from one disciple to the other with concern.
“That haunted lantern from last week,” the shortest one says, his words hasty and anxious, “the spirit is—”
“That old thing?” Wei Wuxian puts his hands on his hips. “It’s still giving you trouble?”
“Wei-gongzi, the spirit is really—”
“Alright, alright, don’t worry. I’ll come.” He waves his hand at the juniors. They all smile with gratitude, then bow and hurry away.
He turns to Jiang Cheng. “I need a favor from you.”
“I’m not doing shit for you.”
“Well, I’m asking you anyway, because it looks like I won’t be going to Caiyi Town after all.” He pulls out a few coins from a pouch. “This should cover the price of the orange oil for A-Yuan. He needs it today.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’m going to buy it. Get one of the servants to do it if you’re so busy!”
Wei Wuxian leans forward and lowers his voice. “Look, the servants won’t buy the cleaning oil that A-Yuan likes. Someone outside the Lan needs to do it.”
Another wonderful thing about this insufferable place, that apparently there are even rules about what can be used to clean a guqin.
“Where’s your Ghost General?” Jiang Cheng tries to hide the way his stomach lurches at saying that name. “Have him do it.”
Wei Wuxian’s shameless levity fades. His voice softens. “Honestly, I don’t even see him much anymore.”
That’s…unexpected.
Before Jiang Cheng can react, Wei Wuxian takes his hand and drops the coins in them. Jiang Cheng jerks away, but the coins are already in his hand.
“If you want Wen Ning to buy it instead, he’ll do it if you ask,” Wei Wuxian says, smiling. “Well, I have to get going!” He runs off after the juniors.
“Wei Wuxian!”
He disappears around a corner with a swirl of black robes.
The nerve!
Jiang Cheng looks down at the silver coins in his palm, cold metal gently pressing into his skin. His first thought is to throw them at Wei Wuxian’s door and go back to his cabin.
But then again…
A trip to Caiyi Town might be the change he needs. There’s nothing left to do here except wait for one last word from the Lan about the trade arrangements, and Jiang Cheng has seen enough of the Lan after hours of suffocating discussion over the past few days. And the longer he stays in the central Cloud Recesses, the greater chance he has of running into Lan Wangji, with his obnoxiously oversized hairpiece and glares of silent fuck you’s.
And the longer he stays in the Cloud Recesses, the greater the chance of running into Wen Ning, too. He’s managed to avoid the Ghost General by day so far, and encountering him by night has already ended in enough of a disaster. To stand before Wen Ning in broad daylight…
He’ll go.
It stings his pride to buy the oil like some errand boy, but his dignity has already crumbled enough that chipping away one more piece won’t make much difference. He leaves the coins outside Wei Wuxian’s door—he can buy things for Lan Sizhui himself, without money that is definitely Lan Wangji’s—and starts down the path to Caiyi Town.
Soon he reaches a deep, shaded part of the mountain’s forest. He focuses on the scenery to keep his mind occupied, but the rhythm of his steps—the way the soles of his shoes grip the stone path and press into the stale winter dirt—it nearly puts him in a trance. He can’t prevent his thoughts from wandering to a dark room, to memories he does not want to relive so soon.
“You never helped us. You never helped any of us.”
Wen Ning’s words, that bite on his lip, that shove against his shoulders, repeat again and again in Jiang Cheng’s mind until they change the pace of his footsteps, and suddenly he’s speed-walking.
Figures, that for once Jiang Cheng tried to be generous, and it backfired so badly that Wen Ning unleashed years of resentment on him. How was he supposed to know that Wen Ning wouldn’t want the talismans? That Wen Ning would hate the idea of the tea so much that he would use the heat from it to humiliate him? Jiang Cheng would have preferred for Wen Ning to just spit the tea in his face than do…that.
“You think I need this remedy to make me more human.”
Isn’t that what Wen Ning wants? Isn’t that why he let Wei Wuxian return his ability to hum?
But of course, Jiang Cheng is not Wei Wuxian. The world has reminded him of that since they were children.
The path widens as he descends the mountain. His throat is dry, and there is a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth. The bracing winter air bites at his skin.
He is beginning to wonder if last night was some type of penance.
This trip to Caiyi Town is some type of penance, too, he tells himself. He has never done a single thing that helped the Dafan Wen. Buying a bottle of oil for their last living family member is the least he can do.
And if Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji marry, as seems to be on the distasteful horizon, Lan Sizhui will almost be like Jiang Cheng’s…nephew.
He hears a voice to his right.
Lan Sizhui’s.
He stops and looks over.
White robes flash between the dense rows of trees as Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi pass by. They are too far away for Jiang Cheng to make out what they’re saying, but when he is about to continue on his way, he catches one name: “Wen Ning.”
They’re talking about Wen Ning.
As if I care.
He takes two steps toward Caiyi Town.
Then he turns around to silently follow the juniors, straining to pick up their conversation across the patch of forest, peering at them through breaks in the trees and burning with self-hatred for doing it.
“He seems fine when we’re on night hunts,” Lan Jingyi says.
Lan Sizhui doesn’t sound convinced. “That’s not the Cloud Recesses, though.”
“Well, I don’t blame him! It’s probably Lan Qiren’s fault for not letting him help with our training!”
“I think it’s more than that,” Lan Sizhui says solemnly.
“What’s the problem, then?”
To save himself at least some dignity, Jiang Cheng stops following and lets the juniors go on. He is above eavesdropping.
Lan Sizhui’s voice fades as the two boys continue up the path to the Cloud Recesses. “Wei-qianbei hasn’t even figured it out. It’s just, ever since we came back from Dafan Mountain…” The rest of the words slip away as Jiang Cheng stands in place, watching the white-robed figures disappear.
What would make Lan Sizhui so concerned about Wen Ning?
And why wouldn't Wei Wuxian know what's wrong?
The sound of humming echoes in Jiang Cheng’s memory. The melody holds more sorrowfulness he had noticed before.
Or maybe he’s just imagining things.
To remind himself that he doesn’t care, he turns back the way he was supposed to be going, walking even faster than before.
It’s a long trip to Caiyi Town. After a while, a stream meets his path and flows alongside it. Cold mist brushes him when the trail curves close enough to the water.
Cold…
What kind of life does Wen Ning live in the Cloud Recesses? What does he do all day, when Lan Sizhui is busy training with the juniors, and Wei Wuxian is either running around or fawning over his precious Hanguang-Jun?
Whom does Wen Ning have to keep him company?
The chill of lonely nights wandering through the halls of Lotus Pier rise unbidden in Jiang Cheng’s mind. Walking alone down long, dark corridors faintly lit by lanterns. Passing Wei Wuxian’s room and trying not to look. Passing A-Jie’s room and lingering in front of the door. Not passing his parent’s rooms at all.
Walking out on the docks with the breeze from the lake whispering in his ear, a wine jar in one hand, the Jiang clarity bell in the other. Looking out at the dark water and seeing a boat filled with lotus pods and people who would never come back to Lotus Pier, their ghost laughter echoing across the water like a dirge.
Does Wen Ning hum every night because he likes it? Because he wants to perfect a newly-restored ability?
Or…is there another reason for his songs?
The stream beside the mountain path has disappeared, and a sign for Caiyi Town sits on the edge of the trail, indicating that the village is finally less than two li away. It occurs to Jiang Cheng that he could have just flown his sword. He thought a walk would clear his head. It’s done far from that.
In his memories, the cold breeze of Yunmeng nights sharpens, transforms into the sensation of Wen Ning’s cold hands on his throat.
He was an outlet, wasn’t he?
He was an outlet for Wen Ning’s anger.
How much of that anger was for Jiang Cheng’s mistreatment of the Wens? How much of it was grief disguised as fury?
Did he really have to take all that out on me?
Rage bubbles up inside Jiang Cheng. He wants to let it rise, let it boil over, but it’s pushed back down by…by…
By what? Pity? Sympathy? Guilt?
Jiang Cheng had sixteen sobering years for his grief to dull, and even now it still haunts him.
Wen Ning’s consciousness was just restored a few months ago.
Has he had a chance to process everything?
…Has Wei Wuxian?
The forest opens up. Hazy sunlight shines on Jiang Cheng. Several roads converge to the shape of Caiyi Town in the distance, where there is much more traffic, the roads busy with pedestrians in plain robes, travelers with donkeys, and merchants with wheelbarrows. There’s more noise there, too.
A distraction.
He has a task to complete. He’ll buy the oil for Lan Sizhui, drop it off at the boy’s door, get his mail and reply to every letter, then train with his sword. He just needs to keep himself busy. Keep himself moving. It’s how he has always pushed the pain out of his mind.
Caiyi Town is as colorful and cheery as always. It’s still as lively as it was when he visited the Cloud Recesses to study, when he walked these streets with Wei Wuxian and A-Jie. The streets are still filled with countless passerby, merchant’s carts, and oarsmen trying to sell boat rides on the canals that wind through the town. The same trees still grow right out of the cobblestone.
No, nothing ever changes in Caiyi Town. The only things here that have changed are Jiang Cheng and the spaces beside him.
“Mai shuzi!” a street merchant calls. “Mai shuzi!”
Jiang Cheng stops in his tracks.
A man pushing a wheelbarrow of wood nearly rams into him. He snaps at the man and storms off toward an alleyway, searching for a less crowded street to walk on.
But before gets off the main road, he can’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder toward the call of Mai shuzi! still coming from a market stall. Upon the cart’s dark teal cloth is an array of polished, serrated wooden rectangles.
Of course there would be vendors selling combs here.
Of course.
This week-long trip to Gusu is beginning to feel like slow torture. He should have found someone else to go shopping for him. At this point, he’s just walking around aimlessly, stalling his visit to the store as he tries not to think about Wen Qing returning the comb to him in the Burial Mounds. The disappointment in her eyes. The regret that eats at him every time he thinks of that comb.
He could have vowed to protect Wen Ning, too.
Would she have come with him, then?
Would that have kept her and Wei Wuxian alive?
He reaches the dock where, years ago, he went out in a boat to investigate water ghouls with the Lan. Wen Qing and Wen Ning had joined the mission too.
Even from the beginning, those two had been different.
The water ghouls had been sent to Caiyi Town by the Wen Clan, another plot to subjugate others in their quest for power. And yet when one of the water ghouls slashed Jiang Cheng’s leg open, Wen Qing—Wen Ruohan’s personal doctor—jumped into his boat to treat his wound.
Wen Chao massacred the Jiang Clan, but Wen Ning rescued Jiang Cheng and recovered the bodies of his parents.
The Wen Clan left no survivors in Lotus Pier, but the last survivors of the Dafan Wen sacrificed themselves for Wei Wuxian when Jiang Cheng wouldn’t.
The hands of a Wen struck him with the disciple whip, incinerated his golden core, but the hands of a Wen healed his wounds and put a new golden core inside him.
Wen Ning killed A-Ling’s father.
Wen Ning saved A-Ling from Baxia.
And now here Jiang Cheng is, staring out at the water, back at the river where he had his first encounter with the two Wens who were different.
He never earned the help the Dafan Wen gave him. It was always Wei Wuxian they acted for.
Wei Wuxian. Always Wei Wuxian.
Zidian crackles on his fist.
Wei Wuxian won the hearts of Wen Qing and Wen Ning, gained their respect and trust, saved their family. He earned all the help he received.
Jiang Cheng received the help of the Dafan Wen and did nothing in return except to watch Jin Guangshan scatter their ashes.
He deserved everything that Wen Ning did last night, didn't he?
Everything but the sick pleasure it gave him.
Wen Ning had not meant to pleasure him.
He couldn’t have…surely…
Jiang Cheng should be angry. He should be so overcome with rage that he’s ready to strike with Zidian, to overturn a market stall or throw something into the river. Instead he feels only a quiet concern, a buzz at the back of his head and at the tips of his fingers.
Wen Ning hadn’t said anything when he left Jiang Cheng’s room. What had he been thinking, then?
The memory of the Burial Mounds returns.
We’re even now, Wen Qing had said when she held out the comb.
If Jiang Cheng had still entertained some deluded idea that Wen Qing returned his affections, it was shattered after that. The comb she returned was proof of how useless his meager gesture of kindness had been. Once the gift was back in his hands, it was a final send-off for him to go his own path, alone. A way for Wen Qing to claim that their scale was balanced when it never would be.
Was Wen Ning just completing a second turn of the cycle? Returning the tea, this useless gesture from Jiang Cheng, in the cruelest way possible? Finding his own twisted version of settling their debts so they never have to speak again?
If last night was a cruel parting gift…why does it hurt to imagine himself and Wen Ning never crossing paths again?
Over the past few months, they’ve often run into each in the shadows on the juniors’ night hunts. Jiang Cheng protecting Jin Ling, Wen Ning protecting Lan Sizhui…and Jin Ling, too. They’ve never exchanged words, only strained glances, but Jiang Cheng has grown used to Wen Ning’s presence on night hunts, begun taking relief in knowing that someone so powerful is now watching over his nephew.
Although he hates to admit it, he’s even grown used to falling asleep to the sound of Wen Ning’s humming.
He even enjoyed the feeling of…
His entire body tenses.
You need to get moving. How long have you been standing here?
He takes a deep breath. It’s warmer in the valley of Caiyi Town than in the mountains of the Cloud Recesses, but the air is still cold enough to clear his head. He leaves the port, walks back into the busy streets of the town, and finds a shop at which to buy the oil.
The shopkeeper takes her time getting the bottle of oil, doing about three times as much chatting as searching, apparently having decided that Jiang Cheng is a prime audience for her long-winded product introductions and rambling lessons about guqin maintenance. Because of course, in his Jiang Clan Leader robes, it’s only logical that Jiang Cheng would be a guqin player.
The shopkeeper is about to hand over the oil when, conveniently, she gets sidetracked and gestures toward a set of brushes. “Oh, and I must tell you, here we have—”
“Just give me the oil!”
The shopkeeper falters, her face falling a bit. Then she puts on an overly-enthusiastic smile again. “Well, if you’re needing oil to shine the wood, you surely need something to clean the strings, and these brushes are made of the finest—”
Jiang Cheng can’t take it anymore. He slams his fist on the counter, leaving behind a handful of coins. “Fine.” He nods toward the set of cleaning supplies. “The brush too, if it’ll make you stop talking.”
The shopkeeper glares at him, then grumbles to herself as she counts out more money than should be a reasonable price for a little brush.
“It costs that much?”
“It does for you,” she says without looking up.
He lets her take the entire pile of coins. She hands him a brush with a light brown handle.
"Not that one.”
She glares at him and picks up a brush with a black handle.
“Or that. No, not that one either—"
The shopkeeper huffs and puts them back. "Is there anything you do like?"
Jiang Cheng points to one in the corner of the display.
"Ah, I see. A good choice. This one will bring luck.” She holds out the brush, shaking her head. “With your temper, you'll need some."
Jiang Cheng leaves the shop feeling a little more ashamed than when he came in, but at least the pressure in his temples lifts as soon as he’s outside.
These merchants are nothing but scammers and chatterboxes.
And it’s a fine excuse for himself. That he caved and bought the brush because he’s a busy man with enough money to spend some extra coins if it gets him out of the company of incessant salespeople as soon as possible. Not because buying Lan Sizhui a bottle of oil that wasn’t his idea feels like…not enough.
He only bought it to get out of the shop.
That’s precisely why when he reaches Lan Sizhui’s quarters, relieved to find no one nearby, he leaves the oil outside the door and keeps the brush in his pocket.
════ 第六晚 ════
On the sixth night, there is no humming.
Jiang Cheng barely sleeps.
════ 未知 ════
Shadows and moonlight. Safflower, lobelia, mint.
Wen Ning waters the safflower and lobelia pots on his windowsill, loses his focus by the time he moves to the mint pot, and pours the water onto the floor. He notices the thin stream of liquid and jerks up the watering pot, nearly knocking the mint plant off the windowsill. He catches it just before it tips over.
It didn’t fall, he tells himself as he sinks down and sits next to the puddle of water he spilled. It isn’t a big deal.
But it came so close. These herbs are his comfort, his proof that he is not just a weapon, not just a tool for destruction—that he can create. That he can bring life from his dead heads.
Yet he could kill so easily when he is not paying attention.
His nerves have been close to snapping all day, and this little fumble is just enough to send him over the edge. He’s left on the floor with his face in his hands.
Of course, he cannot blame the plant for his fragile state of mind.
Only himself.
Only his sin against Jiang Wanyin.
He presses his fingers harder into his face, covering his eyes.
What have I done?
Why couldn’t death have taken away his emotions?
Death is supposed to put a man at rest. To rid him of his attachment to this life and send him to the next. But Wen Ning is still shackled by all of his anger, jealousy, guilt, grief, and now even this slumbering lust that has been awakened.
Jiang Wanyin had liked it. In some wicked way, he had even liked Wen Ning’s roughness, the roughness that was as much a product of the resentful energy holding Wen Ning’s body together as it was a product of his own anger.
But Jiang Wanyin was humiliated that he liked it. Humiliated that he could enjoy the Ghost General’s touch.
Because what else could Jiang Wanyin feel about it?
Wen Ning has finally found someone who likes his touch, and not only is it the one man Wen Ning is the most conflicted about—it is someone who will always be ashamed of this experience.
Anyone would be ashamed of it.
Yet that is not the cruelest part. The cruelest part is that this is what Wen Ning had wanted.
He's figured out Jiang Wanyin by now—the man is as starved for affection as Wen Ning is.
Wen Ning is not sure if it was his own idea, or if it came from the resentful energy that has been building in him, growing stronger the more he grieves his family and the more lost he feels—but the thought entered his mind the moment Jiang Wanyin explained what the tea was really for and he realized that nothing has changed in the way Jiang Wanyin sees him. What he sees him as.
He had been fooled into believing—twice—that Jiang Wanyin was reaching out in kindness, when in his eyes, Wen Ning is just a thing to be fixed.
His first thought had been anger.
His second thought: what painful revenge for his family—for himself—it would be to give Jiang Wanyin the affection he craves in a way that would repulse him and break him apart.
Wen Ning got his revenge alright. And what is he left with? What does he have now? A scolding from the memory of his sister that he should never seek to harm, only to heal. An incessant desire to touch, to kiss, to hold. To feel.
A glimpse of his body becoming something that isn’t only meant to destroy, that can bring pleasure—but only when that pleasure is mixed with fear. With pain. He is a tool for destruction, after all.
A tool of destruction does not deserve to feel.
The murderer of Jin Ling’s father does not deserve to feel.
His breath hitches. He drags his fingers down his cheeks, curling them into his skin.
What have I become?
Wasn’t it enough for death to leave Wen Ning with an ugly body?
Why did it have to leave him with an ugly mind, too?
════ 第七晚 ════
On the seventh night, there is still no humming, and Jiang Cheng still cannot sleep.
The air in the cabin is just warm enough to be comfortable for winter, holds just enough traces of the lotus flower sachet beside his bed for him to imagine that he is soothed by the scent. But despite the warmth and the fragrance, the night air of the Cloud Recesses is stifling when not softened by the song he’s grown used to falling asleep with.
Five nights. Is that really all it took? Five nights?
It’s ridiculous, that in five nights he’s become this attached to Wen Ning’s humming, and his sleep is still suffering on the second night without it. If he had insomnia before coming to Gusu, what he has now is simply hell.
How can he have become so dependent on Wen Ning’s song?
How can he crave a lullaby from someone who slammed him against a wall and humiliated him?
Those lips that hummed so sweetly have bitten his lips, have sucked on—
He groans. Flips onto his stomach.
Tomorrow morning he leaves the Cloud Recesses. He would tell himself that he’ll sleep better in his own bed in Lotus Pier, that the nights after this one will give him peace, but he wouldn’t believe it. He’s never slept well when he has unfinished businesses. Perhaps Wen Ning thinks they’re even, but Jiang Cheng is at the bottom end of their scale and is only sinking lower.
There are things he must take care of if he wants to sleep soundly.
He buries his face in the pillow and groans louder.
Fuck.
* * *
Five minutes later, he’s wandering through the forest searching for Wen Ning’s cabin.
The night is foggy, but the moon is bright through the haze. The forest floor is streaked with shadows stretching from tree branches like fingers spread across the blue grass. There is no cabin in sight.
Jiang Cheng has overhead enough conversations to piece together that the Ghost General lives somewhere on the outskirts of the Cloud Recesses, but he has no idea in which direction, and it’s a big mountain. It could take a while to find him.
What he’ll do once he does find Wen Ning…he has time to think about that.
By the time he holds his hand up to Wen Ning’s door, he has not thought of much. He pauses there, deciding whether to knock or walk away and give himself more time, when something makes him shiver.
Hmm, mm, hmmm, mm.
He lowers his hand.
The melody encircles him.
Suddenly he’s hit with how tired he is. Half of him wants to sink down right here, to rest on the ground with his ear pressed to the door, drifting asleep to Wen Ning’s lullaby, the sound soft like bedsheets wrapping around him, elegant even with its cracks and imperfections.
The other half of him wants to strangle Wen Ning for turning him into a sappy, desperate weakling, and that half wins. He bangs on the door.
The humming stops.
Jiang Cheng waits, but there is no sound of footsteps or tidying inside. He bangs again.
“Wen Qionglin!” he calls when there’s no reply.
The door slides open abruptly. Wen Ning stares down at him from inside, his face covered in shadow.
Jiang Cheng tries to speak as loudly as he did when the door was still closed, but his voice is thin. “I have business with you.”
For a few moments, neither of them move. Then Wen Ning steps aside, making room for Jiang Cheng to enter. His eyes never waver in their sullen glare.
Jiang Cheng hesitates, then steps inside.
The one-room cabin smells faintly of herbs. The space is small and tidy, and although there is a jumble of strange plants and spiritual items in the windowsill, even those seem to have some type of order. He expected to see some sign of recent activity—a book open on the table, a craft to work on or something to fix—but Wen Ning’s motley assortment of belongings are all tucked away in their proper places.
There are no lamps or candles lit inside. Wen Ning makes no move to light one, leaving only dim moonlight to see by.
Was he just sitting here in the dark and humming?
Something about that image is so pitiful, yet almost…almost—
“Please sit,” Wen Ning says quietly as he gestures to the tea table in the center of the room. He turns his back to Jiang Cheng, walks over to a table next to his collection of plants, and begins preparing something, cutting up herbs and roots and fumbling a bit with the knife.
Reluctantly, Jiang Cheng sits and tries to clear the uncomfortable thoughts from his mind. Soon he hears steam hissing from a kettle.
After a while, the hissing starts to grate at his ears. Surely Wen Ning is stalling, using the tea as an excuse to ignore him, because it doesn’t take this long to boil water and cut up a few leaves.
“What made you stop humming?” he blurts out.
Wen Ning pauses. His shoulders hunch up a bit.
He goes back preparing the tea.
“Didn’t have the face to come hum on my doorstep anymore?” Jiang Cheng says. He shouldn’t be snapping at Wen Ning like this, but he knows if he prods enough, he’ll get a reaction. Something to work with, because he can only stumble around blindly in this cold silence. “I see you’ve become a coward.”
Wen Ning turns around, his expression unreadable. He walks over and sets a pot and a tea cup in front of Jiang Cheng, then backs away. “I didn’t think Jiang-zongzhu would appreciate it.”
“So now you decide where to draw the line?”
Something flickers across Wen Ning’s stiff face, something almost…sad. “I’m sorry.” He puts his hands together and bows, hiding his eyes. “I w-won’t disturb Jiang-zongzhu anymore.”
This timidity is not what Jiang Cheng expected. It should’ve been easy to predict given Wen Ning’s personality, but it still catches him off guard, rattles him.
He really has to be sorry? Does he think I’m so fragile that he has to feel bad for me?
“Cut it with the ‘zongzhu’ bullshit,” Jiang Cheng says. “You still have the nerve to call me that?”
“I will keep my distance from now. So I will not call you much of anything.”
“You!—” Zidian rouses, sending faint electricity up Jiang Cheng’s arm. The undue apology felt much better than this dismissal, but at least now Jiang Cheng knows how to respond. “You…you feel guilty.” He draws out the word, feeding his spite into it.
Wen Ning’s lower lip twitches.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng says, reaching for the pot of tea. “Now sit.”
Wen Ning sits and watches Jiang Cheng pour himself a cup. “I’m s-sorry,” he says again. “If you want me to make up for it somehow, please just tell me what it is.”
It’s offensive, that Wen Ning is still trying to do things for him. He gave enough over the years with nothing in return, yet his confused form of payback was to service Jiang Cheng, and now he’s asking to undo that payback with yet another act of service.
“I don’t want anything else from you.”
Wen Ning visibly winces. Then he tilts his head slightly, as if to ask, Then why are you here?
Jiang Cheng should be the one apologizing, the one offering, but Wen Ning has already rejected his small gesture and dug Jiang Cheng deeper into this trench of the Wen Clan. He can’t apologize outright for his neglect back then, nor can he follow Wen Ning’s example and ask so bluntly what he wants, so all he gets out is, “I’m here to make us even.”
Wen Ning shakes his head. “We can’t be.”
“You think you get to decide? Once I say we’re even, we’re even.” A lie, of course. Jiang Cheng can’t bring Wen Ning's family back.
Wen Ning shakes his head again, turning away slightly. His words come out rushed and quiet. “I—I—at—Q-Qiongqi Path…please just tell me what you want me to do, Jiang-zongzhu.”
Great. Just perfect.
Wen Ning thinks he meant that he’s supposed to make them even. That Jiang Cheng came to take more from him.
What nerve, to put on this guilty act about Jin Zixuan’s death, when he was being controlled by a fucking flute? Jiang Cheng’s wrongdoings were at least of his own free will!
That thought grabs him like a hand clawing at his ribcage.
Wen Ning is a puppet.
A puppet enslaved to the will of anyone who knows how to control him.
Jiang Cheng has always had a sense of this, but somehow he has not realized it until now.
“How much of that was your fault?” he asks. His voice isn’t barbed enough to hide that it isn’t really a question.
Wen Ning meets his eyes, bewildered.
It’s terrifying, to pry his fingers off this grudge he’s held onto like a ship's anchor to stabilize himself for so long. The thought of pulling up the anchor and letting the wind carry him out to sea…
Suddenly he doesn’t want Wen Ning to answer.
But Wen Ning does answer. “It was my resentful energy. Even now, I…I…” He looks down at his hands with loathing. “I still don’t know how to control it.”
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Wei Wuxian hasn’t fixed that for you?”
Wen Ning’s fingers slowly curl into his palms, and Jiang Cheng knows he struck a nerve. Maybe if he gets Wen Ning angry enough, he will finally take something.
Wen Ning’s voice is thick with emotion. “Please just tell me what you want.”
Jiang Cheng wants to flip the table over. He settles for slamming a hand on it instead. “I don’t want anything from you!” He leans forward. “Don’t you get it? You should be telling me what you want!”
Wen Ning stares at him for a long time, unbelievably motionless in the face of Jiang Cheng’s outburst, and Jiang Cheng feels himself shrink up with shame.
Then Wen Ning's shoulders sag, and he finally seems to understand.
“There is nothing you can do.”
That should not hurt as much as it does.
It’s the only thing Wen Ning could say that would make sense, but Jiang Cheng can already feel the sleepless nights piling up if this is what he’s left with to replay in his mind from his visit to the Cloud Recesses.
“What other choice did I have?” Jiang Cheng asks, sounding more desperate than he’d like. “What did you expect me to do? Favor your clan over mine?”
And he hadn’t had a choice. If the Jiang had sheltered and protected the Wen, they would’ve turned the entire cultivation world against them. What authority did Jiang Cheng have back then? What power did his clan have in the face of that worm Jin Guangshan and his bottomless pockets and his sycophantic bastard son, who danced circles around Jiang Cheng until his death in Guanyin Temple?
But the feeling that he should have done more has never stopped haunting him.
“Tell me,” Jiang Cheng says, leaning forward, “what could I have done?”
Instead of telling Jiang Cheng that he could have saved their family, or spoken against the Jin, or at least saved his sister, Wen Ning looks away and says, “You could have just…cared about us.”
Jiang Cheng’s entire body goes numb. “Wh…what?”
“You could have cared about us. Like…l-like…” Wen Ning turns away, panicked, and presses his lips together tightly like he’ll die a second time if he opens his mouth.
“Like what?”
Wen Ning struggles, his mouth just barely opening and closing.
“Spit it out! You think I can’t take it?”
“Like others did,” Wen Ning settles for, sealing away whatever name was on his tongue.
Jiang Cheng can guess whom he means. He grimaces, lets out a sour snort of laughter. “I see. You’re right. No one can compare to Wei Wuxian.”
But by the look that Wen Ning gives him and then quickly hides, his guess seems…wrong. Like Wei Wuxian was not whom he meant.
But who else in the cultivation world showed any care for Wen Ning?
Suddenly Jiang Cheng’s breath feels like it’s been punched out of him.
A-Jie?
“You—you meant—” His fingers curl into the table, as though he could rip out a chunk of the wood. Zidian sparks violet. “Don’t tell me you dare to have meant my sister!”
Wen Ning nods, looking as broken as Jiang Cheng feels. His face shows everything he doesn’t say: that because of him, her son is an orphan, and he’ll likely forgive Jiang Cheng sooner than he forgives himself.
Jiang Cheng jumps to his feet, jostling the table and spilling the tea. “You dare speak of her?”
Wen Ning just sits, slumped over slightly, staring at the amber liquid running across the table.
Misery claws at Jiang Cheng every time he thinks of A-Jie, but the pit forming in his stomach is twice as deep as usual.
What if he’s right?
When he and A-Jie visited Yiling to let Wei Wuxian see her wedding gown, Wen Ning was there too.
Jiang Cheng locked him out of the courtyard.
But A-Jie found a way to bring him inside, however symbolic, bringing him soup when he did not need to eat.
And in Yiling, after Lotus Pier had been burned down, during the murky nights that drowned Jiang Cheng in the lingering sting of whip lashes and the agonizing emptiness of having no golden core—
How much time had A-Jie spent with Wen Ning and Wen Qing while they hid there? Had they become friends?
Even if they hadn’t…
A-Jie could not do anything to protect them, but it’s possible that she spoke to Jin Zixuan about the Burial Mounds, urged him to do something to help. Jiang Cheng can clearly imagine how the conversation might have gone, A-Jie’s soft but stern voice, her unyielding drive to sow peace, to stand up for those she loved, and…Jin Zixuan had shown signs of coming around, just before his death. Signs of accepting the Yiling Patriarch and his ragtag settlement.
Jin Zixuan had sought to embrace them sooner than Jiang Cheng had.
What does it matter? You’ve always been selfish, always—
It would have been suicide for the Jiang to support the Wen scraps in the Burial Mounds, but they could have quietly passed them resources, put up a few more protective enchantments around the mountain, been more skillful in their diplomacy with the rest of the clans…
If Jin Zixuan could have reached out, if only because A-Jie had wanted him to…why hadn’t Jiang Cheng?
He’s right, Jiang Cheng realizes, and his heart sinks. He’s right.
But that doesn’t mean it’s fair for Wen Ning to say this.
It isn’t fair to use Jiang Yanli’s name and prove how much of a disappointment Jiang Cheng is to her memory. He already knew that.
“I didn’t care about your people,” Jiang Cheng growls. He thinks of Wen Qing with a pang, thinks of Wei Wuxian with a force that grips his entire body, and he feels like a fool.
Because he has never been good at loving. It is easier to say he never loved than to admit the number of times he failed at it.
Wen Ning finally looks up from the puddle of tea now dripping onto the floor. “Then you can leave.”
Jiang Cheng snarls. “You think you can just dismiss me after—”
“Please.” Wen Ning’s lip quivers. “Please.”
Jiang Cheng is still taking from him. He’s taking just by standing in Wen Ning’s quarters. “I’ll come and go as I see fit. Who are you to tell me what to do?” he snaps, hoping to provoke Wen Ning enough to awaken the anger he knows lies dormant within him. To make him erupt.
To get him to take.
He lowers his voice, filling it with venom.
“Why would I listen to the words of a Wen-dog?”
Large, cold hands grab him by the shoulders and throw him at the door. Something small and light flies out of Jiang Cheng’s robes and lands in the space between them.
A small brush with a crimson handle.
Jiang Cheng’s heart misses a beat.
The fury disappears from Wen Ning’s face. “What…what is that?” he asks, slow and careful. His eyes are fixed on the brush.
Why didn’t I take it out before I came here? Idiot, fucking idiot—
Jiang Cheng snatches the brush and hurries to hide it in his robes, but it’s too late. Wen Ning saw.
Saw the guqin brush, with its red handle, its black rim and golden tassel.
The exact colors of the Wen insignia.
* * *
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!
Ch. 3 >
#jiang cheng#chengning#ningcheng#mdzsnet#mdzs fanfiction#cql fanfiction#the untamed fanfiction#mdzs fanfic#cql fanfic#the untamed fanfic#mdzs#cql#the untamed#seven nights to turn#wen ning#emilu fics#emilu creations
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I have found your blog and I love it!! Good look with it! Can you do headcanons for pregnancy and post-delivery for the juniors? (I see you write about them, and I don't know which other characters you are comfortable to write for). Thnkx~
I write for right about all characters! The Nies, the Jiangs, the Wens, the Lans, even all of the Jins (except Jin Zixun he can go be mean somewhere else) + Yi City power characters are all characters I write for ✌️ (I may have missed a few names) That aside, thank you so much for reading my stuff! I'm glad you enjoy them ❤️❤️ Aside from having 0 time management skills, running such a blog is so much fun! Here is your request about the Juniors being...well- themselves.
Ouyang Zizhen
You're what now?
OYZZ.exe stopped working.
Then he realised three fundamental truths at the exact same time. (if u get the reference, bless ✌️ )
Once the realization of the situation hit, his eyes watered and a loud, yet emotional whail escaped his lips, before engulfing you in a big hug. He was going to be a dad! You two were going to have a baby. And then realization hit him again.
Shit. He was going to be a father. A father to a baby - his baby. That was a lot of responsibility he was about to take. A lot of work, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of time and energy. Babies are hard.
And then realization hit him a third time. He was going to have an actual family with you. And you were the mother to his child. YOUR child. He almost couldn't believe it.
Cue OYZZ becoming 70 times more affectionate and careful. You want to go outside? By all means, but let your gentle lover accompany you. Just in case, y'know. You want something sweet? By all means, what kind of sweets does the queen desire? You need new clothes because of the baby bump? By all means, what kind of silk do you want? Colour? Pattern? Style? You want to sleep? 3, 5 or 50 pillows?
OYZZ is a walking panic bomb when it comes to your pregnancy. Conveniently, he also knows how to mostly hide said panic. But you being in pain, having morning sickness and and in general feeling off is not something he signed up for. So, he will dote over you as much as humanly possible.
But then judgement day arrived. And he was out of it. He somehow never considered the fact, that you were going to one day have to give birth to that baby.
You have never seen a more distressed looking man than OYZZ when he finally got the permission to see you. His eyes were puffy, his lips were quivering and he was so pale, he could easily pass for a corpse. It seemed as if he was the one giving birth, not you.
And he immediately dropped to his knees next to your bed, gently taking your hand in his. You were alive. You were alive and argueably healthy and that was what he needed to hear.
But then! In comes the medic, holding your child in pure white blankets, gently letting you take it. And the moment his eyes landed on that baby he knew, that his heart was stolen once more.
"Congratualtions! It's a girl."
Guess who is about to become "Daddy's little princess".
Jin Ling
"Hahahahahhahha. Funny. Oh wait, you're serious?!"
PaniK
What do you mean you're pregnant? When did that happen? When did you learn? How were you sure? Wait, you were how many months in?!
Give him time. It's not, that he isn't happy. He's just panicking like crazy. Of course, once the initial mental breakdown™️ wears off, he'd come up to you and give you the most emotional hug you've ever experienced. He'd hide his face in your hair, as he mumbled into you how incredibly grateful he actually is.
Now, as the Lanling Jin Sect's leader, of course it was expected of him to have an heir, so such news travelled quickly. Immediately this became the gossip of every household and ultimately led to you receiving a metric ton of gifts from all over the place. Jin Ling would also make sure you were living the most lavish, yet healthy lifestyle possible.
The truth is, he was utterly terrified. After all, he grew up without parents, lived only with his uncle and as a result was quite hot-tempered. More than anything, he wanted to be the best dad possible. He wanted his children to grow up in a loving family, with their parents next to them, with a mother to care for them and a father to teach them. And he was afraid whether he was capable of even being a good father. But of course, you knew he was going to be the best father in the world.
Now, speaking of hot-tempered, Jin Ling honestly would throw more hissy fits than you. In fact, he'd get more mood swings than you too. In fact, even when pregnant, you're the calm one. Because if you think he's snappy and over-protective of you usually, wait 'till you see him once he learns you're pregnant. Hoo boy.
He was at work, dealing with the pressures of leading a sect when one of Lanling's servants hurriedly burst into the room, giving him the news that made his tough guy act crumble in seconds - his wife was giving birth.
At the time, he was surrounded by now Sect Leader Lan Sizhui, (idk it's a hc), Nie Huaisang and of course - his uncle, who all ushered him to go see you. Thus, he stormed out, running towards the nursery like his life depended on it.
"What do you mean I can't enter yet, my WIFE is in there." You haven't seen scary until you've seen Jin Ling, amidst an utter mental breakdown, being held down by a few nurses, trying desperately to stop him from going in.
Once they DID let him in, he'd be by your side in 0.001 seconds, only to see you holding not one, but two babies.
"A-Ling, look. They're twins. Say hello to papa, little ones." For once, Jin Ling didn't mind the tears that began falling from his eyes, as he gently held one of his two sons in his embrace. Perhaps, being a father wouldn't be that bad after all. Not with you by his side.
Lan Jingyi
*dramatic gasp*
For once the loud, wild Jingyi was left speechless, unmoving, utterly starstruck by the news. He'd never admit it, but for a while he'd been dreaming of having a family with you. So, when you told him the news, his heart skipped a beat. His dream was coming true.
And then, with the biggest smile on his face, he'd lift you up, carrying you to your now shared room, stating how you shouldn't strain yourself and how he'd take care of everything you need.
"Er-gege, I'm only 3 months in, it's barely noticeable yet, I can take care of myself."
Denial.
Lan Jingyi will be there for you at the cost of right about everything, even if it meant breaking Lan's rules, much to yours and everybody's dismay. Macho man™️ will protect his darling flower. What he wasn't ready for was how complicated pregnancy actually is.
Whenever you're more moody, he'd be quick to anger as well, so small and pointless arguments wouldn't be uncommon. But for every little argument, there is also a sleepless night where he'd cuddle you, whenever your stomach would hurt, or you'd feel uncomfortable.
Now Lan Jingyi is a cool dad. He is a cool dad before he is officially a dad. Whenever you two are alone, lying in bed, he'd lean in to rest a hand on your stomach. And he'd always give a happy yelp whenever he felt his little one move. And gosh, how much he'd talk to the baby. He'd tell your stomach stories of his great adventures, he'd joke around and believe me, he's planned every family outing for next 10 years.
Absolutely everybody thought it was going to be a boy. Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling even bet on it, OYZZ being ABSOLUTELY sure it would be a boy.
Giving birth was a whole new adventure. He'd wake up much too early for his liking with you frantically shaking him awake.
"The baby is coming." "Who's coming?" "The baby." "THE BABY?!"
Cue, Lan Jingyi losing his damn mind. He'd be up and running in a blink of an eye, casually scaring the medics and waking up the entire Cloud Recess in his hurry. Don't run in Cloud Recess? He's not running. He's SPRINTING. Do not shout in Cloud Recess? He's not shouting, he's SCREECHING. Do not speak out of turn? FOR GOD'S SAKE MY BABY IS COMING. And he'd be like that the entire time, until he's allowed to see you. He'll write the rules a thousand times if he has to later. He won't, Lan aren't heartless.
Seeing his healthy little baby, he was right about ready to pass out. He almost didn't hear you joking how your little girl was a loud crier and was about to be just as wild as her dad.
" Wait. It's a girl? We have a little girl!" Cue Ouyang Zizhen screaming in misery, as Jin Ling victoriously smirks his way.
Lan Jingyi on the other hand couldn't have been happier.
Lan Sizhui
QWQ
"This is the best day of my life, I can't believe we're going to have our own family!"
With a bright smile, he'd pull you in for a sweet kiss, shaking with excitement. Honestly, he'd have the best reaction out of all the Juniors. He's a family guy, who gets to witness true love everyday around his fathers, so having a child of his own with you was one of his long-term goals. He was old enough and wise enough to be absolutely ready to embark on an adventure through fatherhood.
Lan Sizhui would be so loving and gentle with you. You'd have him wrapped around your finger, he'd respond to your every beg and call. He'd minimize any work-related travelling to make sure he could be as close to you as possible.
When he wasn't there, he'd assign his cultivation partner and trusty bestie Lan Jingyi to take care of you and look after you. Did you necessarily need it? No. But you understood his worry, so you let him be.
He'd be there for you when you were feeling down, through your mood swings, morning sickness. He never complained, never fought with you, never gave you anything short of his unconditional love.
In fact, he was so SO compassionate, that he'd get pregnancy cravings WITH you. Nothing like the two of you, sitting awake at 2 am, (uncommon for him) eating chocolate-covered cucumbers and apricots.
Similarly to Lan Jingyi, everybody were already 100% sure the two of you would have a little girl. With Sizhui's sweet soft-spoken behavior and big warm heart, having a little gentle flower to spoil rotten seemed like the obvious outcome.
Lan Sizhui, on the other hand, refused to give into all of those "what ifs". Only time could tell. Besides, he'd be just as happy and proud no matter what gender the baby would be.
With his careful planning and skillful avoidance of any travelling, thankfully he was there when the due date was up. On the outside, he remained as calm as physically possible, but oh, on the inside it was a storm. Few could see through his façade, but by the trembling of his fingers, discreet chewing on the inside of his lip and eyes darting all around him, his true feelings came to light.
And when he finally got to see you, you've never seen him more unlike himself. With a worried expression and hasty movements he'd make his way to you, trembling hand reaching out to cup your face. He'd leave a gentle kiss on your forehead, before turning to the newborn in your hands.
"Sizhui. Say hi to your son."
A single tear rolled down his face, carrying the weight of all of his love in it. One look at his child and his heart was pierced by a million arrows. At that very moment he vowed, that he'd protect this child with all he's got, teach him all he knows and love him with all of his heart.
Thank you for reading~
#grandmaster of demonic arts#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#mo dao su zhi#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#the untamed lan sizhui#the untamed#the untamed x reader#mdzs x reader#mdzs fanfiction#lan sizhui#lan jingyi#lan juniors#ouyang zizhen#jin ling#jin rulan#cql fic#cql#mdzs headcanons#mo dao zu shi x reader#mo dao zu shi headcanons#the untamed headcanon
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Drabble (1)
Lan Yuan couldn't really remember anything, he knew his name was Lan Yuan and that was all he knew about himself, he also knew that he shared a bed with a man who laid on his stomach and looked as if he were in a lot of pain with bandages soaked red on his back. He also knew that something must be wrong with him because when doctors came to see the man they looked at him as if he were a grave mistake.
Lan Yuan later learned that the man on his stomach was his father and that he has no mother, that when his father first awoke he cried while he held his hand and mumbled something over and over. As a young child who was still recovering from illness, he wasn't allowed to go outside but that didn't stop the pretty blackbirds from visiting him.
In the very back of the child's mind, he found images, of empty vast fields, of a pretty man sitting in front of an audience of black ink and playing the flute all pretty like. Just as soon as the image came into focus the blackbirds call out to him from the window and it breaks into his mind.
From there everything was slow. His father is slow to recover. He was slow to grow out of the shell that had grown around him, he was slow to understand that there was nothing wrong with him, specifically but that no matter where you were, people loved to talk.
Only the birds with the call that was more a cry and feathers made of ink remained consistent and smooth in the slow passage of time in Cloud Recesses. They would land next to Lan Yuan when he played with the bunnies, taking in how the child was careful with the animals and followed suit if only to please the human. Sometimes they would bring him small gifts and when his father asked where he got these seemingly valuable things, the child would say the birds gave them to him. It caused his father's face to tick into something Lan Yuan could only describe as confusion, it also meant that the man watched him play with the bunnies until the ravens came.
Never had Lan Zhan seen something like it, the birds were so gentle with not only his son but also the bunnies, almost as if they were conscious that in that very moment, they were not eating, not to harm. He laid witness to the birds dropping small things in front of Lan Yuan's lap.
There was only one explanation, "Wei Ying." The name slipped into the air, happy to be free of the confines that had him chained in his heart.
Lan Zhan didn't see it as anything negative, not for a long time, after all, he never bothered about the opinions other people had about him. Such was not the same about his son, no one was allowed to talk shit about his son and thus no one did. The problem arrived for Lan Yuan to make friends, there was definitely a period in the child's life when he suffered from loneliness but luckily Jingyi was a very accepting child. His liveliness reminded Lan Zhan of a young boy from long ago and if it was a little difficult for him to look at the child for some time, no one had to know.
"You know Sizhui... I think that if anyone sees you like this they would think you were a sorcerer," Jingyi was watching his dear friend cradle a couple of fluffy raven chicks in his arms, two fully grown ones perched on his shoulders, he was cooing at the birds, all soft smiles and gentle eyes. Like one would a litter of kittens. "Or not... Hanguang-jun would probably beat the shit out of them before they did."
"Hm?" Sizhui lifted his head a little, but Jingyi had become a master of mumbling so he denied saying anything. "I mean, probably." They were resting in the forest, Hanuang-jun had agreed to take them on a night hunt, as long as they didn't involve themself and now the two teens were waiting for the man to get back from... where ever he had gone off to. "But it's always been like this."
Going into his robes, Jingyi pulled out a dark blue pouch, opening it so that seed spilled out into his palm, holding his hand out he let the bigger birds eat. "I know," it had taken a while for the birds to understand that he meant no harm—in fact, he was there to feed them, "I'm your best friend." Putting the pouch away he lifted a knee and settled his hand on his, his chin in his hand. Given that he was still young, Jingyi's baby fat squished.
Sizhui looked at him, giggled softly at how the younger boy appeared to be transfixed, if not a little bored with the birds eating from his hand.
"Yes. Yes, you are."
as i said. a little something on the wwx can talk to corvids (raven’s and crows ive decided!) but less of wwx and more on sizhui b/c... idk... :]
#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#the untamed#cql#lan sizhui#lan jingyi#lan wangji#lan zhan#should i like.... make my own take???#muere writes#there!
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Sizhui is settled beside a small stream in one of the numerous clearings in the mountains around the Cloud Recesses. The sound of the river is soft and soothing, and the spring sunshine overhead is bright and warm. Sizhui picks out a soft melody on his guqin, and he can hear the soft sound of birds singing in the distance.
It’s incredibly tranquil, and that’s why Sizhui came here, but there’s still anxiety twisting his stomach into knots. His emotions have been chaotic ever since he learned that he was born a Wen. The fragments of memories slotting back into place are frustrating, and the nightmares he can’t seem to stop are worse.
However, it’s the slew of emotions- confusion, fear, anger, guilt, anxiety- that bother him the most. No matter how much meditation he does or soothing songs he plays, he can’t seem to find his calm.
There’s a whole basket of questions and worries, but the one he’s currently turning over and over in his head is how to tell Jingyi all of this. Jingyi is his best friend, the person Sizhui can always confide in. It feels wrong to keep a secret from him, and Sizhui could really use his comfort.
The soft sound of footsteps on foliage catches Sizhui’s attention, and a moment later, as if Sizhui’s thoughts had summoned him, Jingyi appears at the edge of the small clearing.
Sizhui’s heart jumps in his chest at the same time his stomach twists anxiously.
“Thought I might find you hiding here,” Jingyi says, with a bright smile, one that never fails to make Sizhui’s heart flutter.
“I’m not hiding,” Sizhui says; it’s only kind of a lie. If he really didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t have come to a place where the two of them have spent so much time together.
“Sure,” Jingyi says, coming to sit on the grass.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the library?” Sizhui asks mildly. He’s fairly certain that Jingyi has been assigned to copy the rules again.
“I was worried about you,” Jingyi says.
Something inside Sizhui softens and his anxiety lessens slightly.
“You’ve been acting oddly since everything with Senior Wei happened,” Jingyi says.
Sizhui has to look away from the earnest concern in his eyes.
“Sizhui,” Jingyi says, and his tone is unusually calm and serious. “You know that I love you right?”
Sizhui’s head snaps up and his heart flips over. There’s no way he heard that right.
“What?” he asks faintly.
A familiar expression crosses over Jingyi’s face: it’s not quite horror or mortification, but it says that he’s spoken without thinking and is regretting it. But then that expression shifts to determination.
“I love you,” he says.
For a second, Sizhui just stares at him, but before Jingyi’s determination can give way to anxiety, a brilliant smile spreads across Sizhui’s face.
“I love you too, Jingyi,” Sizhui says. His heart is pounding, and he really hopes that he’s reading this moment correctly.
Jingyi’s eyes light up, and he grins. He reaches out to take Sizhui’s hand and squeeze it. Sizhui threads their fingers together, still not quite believing that this is real, that revealing the feelings he’d buried for years had been that easy.
Sizhui looks at Jingyi, at his lips. He wonders if Jingyi would let him kiss him. He wants to.
“You can tell me anything, Sizhui, I hope you know that.”
Just like that, the bubble of happiness shatters, and the sick feeling is back in Sizhui’s stomach.
“Yes,” Sizhui says, but his voice isn’t confident.
He stares into Jingyi’s brilliant grey eyes and tries to find his courage. How can he tell Jingyi that he’s a Wen, when the Wens had burned down the Cloud Recesses and killed Jingyi’s parents, when Jingyi still has nightmares about it.
Jingyi squeezes his hand comfortingly, and Sizhui takes a deep breath. He can trust Jingyi; he always has.
“Senior Wei told me about my birth family,” he says quietly.
Jingyi’s eyes search his face. “You don’t seem excited?”
Sizhui shakes his head slowly. “Jingyi, my parents were Wens. I was- am- Wen Yuan.”
Jingyi’s expression goes completely blank, and Sizhui’s stomach clenches so tightly he almost leans over.
“That’s not funny, Sizhui,” Jingyi says, letting go of Sizhui’s hand.
“I’m not joking,” Sizhui says, then more quietly, “I wish I was.”
Jingyi just stares at him as Sizhui quietly explains what little he knows about how he ended up in the Cloud Recesses. When Sizhui stops talking, the whole clearing is silent except for the discordantly cheerful burbling of the stream.
The expression on Jingyi’s face is shifting from shock to something between hurt and betrayal, and Sizhui clenches his hands into the fabric of his robes to resist taking his hand again.
“You- You’re- You’re one of them,” Jingyi says, and Sizhui can almost see the memories in his eyes.
“No,” Sizhui says. He’s not, not really, but then, “yes?”
Jingyi pulls away from him, and panic rises in Sizhui’s throat, making it hard to breathe.
“Jingyi?” He says, leaning forward.
“Don’t-” Jingyi says, pushing himself to his feet. Sizhui looks up at him with wide eyes. “You aren’t who I thought you were.”
“I am!” Sizhui protests. “I’m the same person!”
I can’t even remember them , he wants to scream. I don’t know who they are. I’m a Lan, not a Wen.
Maybe, if Jingyi’s expression was angry, he would have. Maybe if it was derision or scorn he saw there, he could be angry back. Instead, Jingyi looks hurt, betrayed. He takes another step away from Sizhui.
“Jingyi, please!” Sizhui says. Please listen to me. Please understand. I need you to.
But for the first time in years, Jingyi doesn’t understand. Sizhui is so used to communicating with Jingyi without words, that they get all tangled up on his tongue as Jingyi takes another step back and then another.
“The Wens… Your family, they murdered my parents. They burnt the Cloud Recesses to the ground. They… They were monsters.”
What is the son of a monster but a monster? Sizhui has been asking himself that question since he learned the truth, and he can hear it behind Jingyi’s words.
“I didn’t-” Sizhui says. He was hardly old enough to talk when the Sunshot Campaign began.
“Don’t,” Jingyi says, shaking his head and turning away. “Just don’t.”
He walks to the edge of the clearing, the same way he’d come, and Sizhui watches him in mute shock. He can’t figure out how things had gone so wrong so quickly. He can still feel Jingyi’s hand in his. A distant part of his brain tells him that Jingyi is hot-tempered and that he will cool down and this will turn out okay, but it is a very very small voice.
Jingyi looks back at him.
“I wish,” he says and shakes his head. “Right now, I wish I’d never met you.”
With that, he turns and walks away.
Sizhui opens his mouth to call after him, but the words get stuck in his throat as something inside of him breaks. At first, he’s frozen, staring at Jingyi’s retreating form.
Jingyi. His best friend. The love of his life. The person he’d thought was his soulmate.
And he threw Sizhui away just like that.
Just like everyone else.
His shoulders start to shake, and he realizes there are tears on his face. He’s sobbing, tears of loss and anger and guilt all welling up.
He raises his hands to cover his face, to stifle the sound of his sobs.
And jerks upright, tears on his face. He blinks at the sudden darkness around him. His room. He’s in his room.
“Sizhui?” Jingyi’s voice is sleepy and half-muffled.
Sizhui takes a deep, shaky breath. A dream, it was just a dream. Its moonlight is filtering through the window, not sunlight, and the sky outside is still pitch black.
Sizhui tries to wipe the tears from his face, and he hears shuffling on the other side of the room. He looks up to see Jingyi padding towards him in the semidarkness.
“Another nightmare?” he asks, and Sizhui can only nod. “You okay?”
Sizhui just shakes his head. There’s no point in lying about his feelings when Jingyi can read him so well. Jingyi drops down on Sizhui’s bed next to him and pulls him into a hug. Even as Sizhui presses his face against Jingyi’s shoulder, he feels guilt rising. He still hasn’t told Jingyi about his Wen heritage.
“I’m sorry,” Sizhui whispers.
“It’s okay,” Jingyi says, rubbing Sizhui’s back. “Nightmares happen.”
Jingyi’s presence is so comforting. Sizhui feels warm and safe in his arms, and he can feel his breath and heartbeat returning to normal. But as the emotions from the dream fade, very real guilt and anxiety assert themselves. He feels like he’s lying, letting Jingyi comfort him when Jingyi doesn’t know.
“Sizhui,” Jingyi says, quietly.
“Yeah?”
“You know that I care about you right?”
The words are so close to the words of Sizhui’s dream that he almost has a disconcerting sense of deja vu.
“You can tell me anything,” Jingyi says.
“Yes,” Sizhui says, but his voice is small.
“I don’t know what happened, but something has been bothering you since the stuff with Senior Wei. You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m always here for you, okay?”
Sizhui nods. He needs to tell Jingyi, and he needs to do it now, but the betrayed expression on the Jingyi of his dreams is seared onto his mind. He’s not sure he can handle that expression twice.
“Senior Wei told me about my birth family,” Sizhui whispers.
Jingyi is still holding him, and Sizhui should really sit up and give him space, but he can’t seem to force himself to.
“Okay,” Jingyi says, carefully.
“Jingyi,” Sizhui’s voice is shaky. “My parents were Wens.”
The words hang in the darkness between them, and Sizhui’s heart leaps into his throat, but Jingyi doesn’t shove him away, doesn’t even pull away.
“That’s what’s upsetting you?” Jingyi asks, and Sizhui pulls back to look at him.
It’s hard to see his expression in the dark, but there’s no sign of anger or pain in his expression, only concern.
“You… don’t mind?” Sizhui asks, cautiously.
Jingyi shrugs, “it doesn’t matter who your parents are, A-Yuan. Lan Yuan, Wen Yuan, it doesn’t matter. You are still the same person, still my best friend.”
The knot of guilt and fear eases so quickly that Sizhui almost feels heady as he stares at Jingyi. Jingyi, who has never cared that Sizhui didn’t have parents. Jingyi, who always stands up for him. Jingyi, who never complained about Sizhui’s nightmares. Jingyi, who is Sizhui’s best friend.
“Jingyi, I love you,” Sizhui says, and the words surprise him. He can feel his own eyes go wide.
Jingyi’s expression is unreadable in the dark.
“Do you mean?” He asks, and is that hope ?
“I mean,” Sizhui says and pauses. There’s no possible way for him to convey the way he’s feeling right now: the warmth of it, the sheer overwhelming force of it.
Instead, he reaches out, surprised to find that his hand is completely steady, and pushes Jingyi’s bangs out of his face before leaning in to kiss him. Sizhui’s heart is in his throat, but Jingyi doesn’t pull away and doesn’t push Sizhui away. Their lips brush together, and Jingyi kisses him back . It’s hardly a moment, but Sizhui’s heart leaps in his chest.
Sizhui can’t help the smile spreading over his lips, and he watches as a matching one spreads across Jingyi’s.
“I love you too,” Jingyi says and leans in to kiss Sizhui again.
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For renouncement verse. LWJ must have cousins (since Jingyi exists) so what about some of his extended family seeing WWX "cruelly rejecting" their cousin's affections and scolding WWX for it/trying to comfort LWJ and give him advice about how to fix his marriage?
“You must never let the sun go down on your anger,” one of his sixth cousins advises him. “If you fight with your husband, you must make up with him before you go to bed. Neither of you should ever have the chance to sleep on it.”
“I do not fight with my husband,” Lan Wangji says, bemused. “I have never fought with him, not since the Sunshot Campaign.”
And then, a little smugly, he adds--
“The only thing we quarrel over is my attentiveness to him. He thinks I dote too much, and I believe I do not treasure him enough. But I have swayed him on that subject every time, so it is irrelevant.”
His third cousin, Lan Liu, throws up her hands in dismay. “Wangji! It breaks my heart to see him reject you so cold-heartedly--for heaven’s sake, at least listen to us! Of course an outsider would know nothing about the strength of a Lan’s love, so I do not mean that he is in the wrong exactly, but still--how can you bear it?”
Wei Ying, rejecting him! Lan Wangji nearly laughs out loud--how could anyone say that Wei Ying rejects him, when his hands began to grasp for Lan Wangji’s sleeve the moment he leaves their bed in the morning, and when he quivers like a crimson maple leaf whenever Lan Wangji touches him? If anyone--anyone at all--ever saw the way Wei Ying glows when Lan Wangji praises his cooking, or takes a second helping of it, or fusses over Xiao-Yu, how could they even dream that Lan Wangji’s love was being rejected?
Marriage has been everything Lan Wangji ever dreamed of and more (save for the worrying development of his husband’s increased lethargy in the evenings and the way anything too sour or spicy seems to make him ill--but the cure for that turned out to be bland, plain foods and plenty of rest, thank heaven) and he is so heart-breakingly happy that Xichen can hardly keep himself from laughing out loud at the sight of him.
“Being married to him is bliss,” he says softly, his lips trembling at the memory of Wei Ying combing his hair for him that very morning, and helping him dress it and tying on his ribbon before kissing him goodbye. “I am happy, Liu-jie. So much so that I can scarcely hold it.”
(meanwhile, on the other side of the Cloud Recesses:)
“Lan-san-gongzi!” a little voice shouts at the gate fencing off the rabbit field, as Wei Wuxian sits on the other side of it with Xiao-Yu and a heap of baby rabbits piled up in his lap. “I’m here to--to challenge you!”
Wei Wuxian squints against the afternoon sun and jumps at the sight of one of Lan Zhan’s little cousins glaring down at him.
“Little Lan Li? What are you doing here?” he asks. He recognizes the little boy from Sizhui’s infant calligraphy lessons, and then bites back a snort before deciding to go along with whatever chip the child seems to have on his shoulder. “And challenge me, A-Li? What for?”
“For breaking Hanguang-jun’s heart, and flouting all the laws that govern a good and happy marriage! Now stand up and fight me like--like a true, honorable and chivalrous gentleman!”
“Eh?!”
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Summary: Wei Wuxian is determined. After seeing his Lan Zhan yawning, yawning of all things, he makes it his mission to let his husband take a rest. Though, as with many things in life, it doesn't go according to plan. Many years had passed since the esteemed Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch had found themselves stuck in a cave on death's doorstep, confessing deeply rooted traumas to each other. Wei Ying would give everything he had and more to never let it happen again. Never. He was going to cherish Lan Wangji like he deserved, until the day he died.
Ship: Wangxian
Word Count: 5397
Author’s Note: This story is a result of MDZS/CQL frankencanon, and may contain differences in titles and ways of addressing due to subtitle variations. This work may not be completely accurate to Ancient Chinese and Xianxia culture. If something has been written inappropriately/offensively, please let me know!
This chapter contains:
Exhaustion, Hypothermia, Delirium
"IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE!!! HUG ME LAN ZHAN!!!"
The snow was fierce, blowing in strong gusts of wind that changed directions every few seconds. Thick snowflakes sat in everyone's hair, from the lovers leading to the group, to the juniors being nearly blown away trailing behind. Clearly (or rather, unclearly- it was very hard to see), this day was not going as Wei Ying had hoped. Had it, and they might've been dancing through the white-coated streets of Caiyi, where the sky was calm now, and the sun shone to melt some of the snow. A blizzard in Yuanwei was certainly not in his planned itinerary for the day.
They'd been sent off when Zewu-Jun arrived back in the Cloud Recesses, visibly distressed with several delayed letters of aid coming from the townspeople. A blizzard of questionable origins had been raging for about two days now, judging by the dates on the papers. A collection of them had been found just outside the borders of the place. When recalling the events of the night before to the Lan Sect Leader, the worst was feared. Had the people been... were they gone?
If so, they were dealing with something, or someone, much more dangerous than they'd hoped.
So Zewu-Jun sent out his brother, accompanied by Wei Ying, and a group of their finest junior disciples to look for survivors, or bodies of the dead. Whatever was left at this point. Though, what had yet to be explained, was why Jin Ling was trotting around and rolling his eyes at Wei Ying snuggling against up his lover.
"Roll your eyes all you want! I'm cold! What are you even doing here?!" The former Jiang disciple hissed, head half-covered by Wangi's long sleeve he'd been wrapped in. "Shouldn't you be doing Sect Leader things?! If we needed a Sect Leader, Zewu-Jun would've come with us!"
"Mind your business!" The teen snapped back, crossing his arms. "I'm studying in Gusu right now! Did you forget? We literally see each other every day!" Jin Ling... in the Cloud Recesses? That would explain why a wild Jin would be wearing white. But it wasn't exactly ringing a bell. "Why didn't you dress warmer anyways? You knew where we were going!"
"I am dressed warm! I have my warmest clothes on mind you! But it's still cold!"
"Then you're a baby."
"A-Ling... Maybe fighting with Senior Wei isn't worth it?" Sizhui intervened, giving the softest nervous smile he could. "All of us are still cold, the temperatures are below what most of us are used to. We should try to get this done as soon as possible."
So it was A-Ling now? Interesting... He and Sizhui would be having a talk when they got home. Wangji seemed to pick up on this too, sharing a look with the other before nodding.
"Well said Sizhui!" Wei Ying exclaimed, pacing around the group. "What a polite disciple! You should try to be more like him! Your uncle has corrupted your brain to be so aggressive! It's scary!" He jumped back to his lover in exaggerated fear when Jin Ling practically growled at him as a response.
"Can we get going now? Some of us would like to keep all our fingers and toes by the end of this." Jingyi complained, sarcasm being second nature to him. It was almost impressive. "It's cold, and this place is almost buried. I don't wanna be buried with it."
Normally, the Second Jade would at least point out the rude behavior. But the boy was right. People's lives could be on the line. So he took off his outermost layer of winter robes, gently placing the clothing around Wei Ying's shoulders. His husband's golden core was still weak in comparison to what it used to be, Wangji could manage in the cold if it meant swaddling the other. White was not his color, but seeing Wei Ying with embellished clouds covering his typical black and red combination reminded him of their student days back in Gusu. Back when they were carefree teenagers.
They had to move now.
So they walked. Trudging through knee-deep snow as wind whipped their faces, snow blurring their vision, and hoping they were still headed towards the right direction. Wei Ying tried to protest giving the extra layer back, but would only be met with, "You need it more." At least, it was something along those lines. Perhaps it changed, Wei Ying didn't focus on it too much. All he wanted was for his beloved to be taking a break.
They hadn't slept in. There was no time for naps or any trips out to Caiyi. No buying loquats in the marketplace or relaxing by the cold pond (too cold to go in!) or catching up over a meal with the kids. It scared him. Wangji looked exhausted; scary to think about, scarier to see.
Is this what it felt like? Being worried for your one true love? Did Lan Zhan go through this all the time? Standing there, watching, knowing he's too stubborn to ask for help or properly take a rest? They were more alike than Wei Ying would like to admit... and that was... Miraculous. Even through his worry, Wei Ying couldn't help but be enamored by the graceful beauty Wangji had. Intoxicating in the best way.
Thick, frosty flakes sat in his hair, looking so natural. So pristine, so tranquil. "Lan Zhan! How dare you look like a regal, captivating snow prince while the rest of us look like drowned rats!" The Yiling Patriarch whined. He wasn't wrong, damp, half-frozen hair clung together wildly in almost everyone's face. Yet Lan Wangji was immune, so to speak, still looking as handsome as ever. Even tired, he was radiant.
"Mn. Not true." The Second Jade replied.
Ah, an opportunity. "Oh? Is that so?" Wei Ying smirked, bringing his palms to rest cutely onto his frigid, rosy cheeks. "So there's an exception then? Someone who gets to be labelled as breathtaking as Hanguang-Jun? I envy them~"
"Sizhui."
Eh!? "LAN ZHAN!!!" Wei Ying cried, throwing his arms back down in a fuss. He could already hear the muffled snickers coming from the juniors still following behind. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ME!!!"
"Lying is forbidden."
"WHAT!?!? LAN WANGJI!!!"
Oh how they laughed. The lot of teens quite honestly couldn't contain it anymore. Senior Wei had just been delivered a critical blow- that was hilariously overdue. Anyone could hear the moment Jin Ling dropped to the ground with a loud thump, sinking into the fresh powder as hysterical laughter spread throughout the group. Jingyi was barely hunched over on his knees, trying his very best to stay upright in the frenzy, huffing loudly every few seconds to get more air. The ever-mannered Sizhui only meekly turned away, giggling in a sort of shame.
But Hanguang-Jun took a hand to his husband's face. "Wei Ying is too bright. Too warming. He cannot be a snow prince. Has to be the sun. "
The Yiling Patriarch smiled brightly, spitting out a "take that!" to the group. "Is it because I make you melt, Ji-xiong?" He asked, playfully sticking out his tongue.
Still laying in the snow, Jin Ling covered his eyes. "Ew. I did not want to see that. Please never do that again."
Hanguang-Jun didn't seem outwardly amused, but Wei Ying could tell he was snickering at the remark (on the inside!). That is, until the Second Master Lan stepped forward once more. "No time for this. Advance."
With that, the disciples scurried back and followed. Even his husband seemed to get the message that his teasing time was regretfully over. Maybe Lan Zhan WASN'T laughing on the inside? Actually, he seemed so tense all of a sudden. Stiff as a board. When they'd arrived, he was his usual smittenly sweet self. Now it was like he was in a cultivation conference listening to the nonsense being spit by anyone who craved a sliver of attention. But he had seen him amused by it! So what just happened?
Sizhui, covertly speeding up behind Wei Ying, tugged on his sleeve. If he hadn't been half-expecting the kid to notice, he might've flinched. But A-Yuan was attentive. The subtle frown on the teen's face, the way his eyebrows lowered, and his lip sunk just a bit- Sizhui was worried too. And maybe, just maybe, Wei Ying was close enough to now be able to decipher his kid too.
Before either of them could try to get to the bottom of this, a quiet thunk was heard. Thunking wasn't the typical crunch of the snow now was it? Heads turned to Lan Jingyi, the origin of the sound. At the disciple's feet, something was peeking out. The group gathered around the unidentified object like ducklings, before digging into the fresh powder.
"It's... It's some kind of box?" Someone announced. Three of them lifted it up, but whatever was inside was buried at this point. Tipping it over, parcels containing cloths and pendants fell out. Many of them held the same, if not similar design to the tapestry previously hung in the Jingshi, and the symbol on their map.
"Well!" Wei Ying bent down, grabbing one of the pendants and sweeping snow off its print. "At least we know we're getting close!" He perked up, "And this wasn't buried deep. Someone was carrying this recently. Maybe even a few hours ago. Could've been a merchant, could've been a shopkeeper desperate to preserve their valuables. But it was abandoned here within the last 24 hours, so there's at least one person nearby."
Wangji nodded. But he kept the grim look on his face. It was always a possibility, but no one was happy when he added, "Check for bodies."
They dug around. No bodies. That was a relief. Whoever was out here, well, hopefully this meant shelter was somewhere, and still intact. Townspeople didn't have golden cores, they wouldn't make it long in this.
So they kept going. Wei Ying kept his eyes on Lan Wangji, and through his peripheral vision, watched as Sizhui and now Jingyi seemed to fret at the sight of their beloved Hanguang-Jun. If Jin Ling had any suspicions, he was doing so from afar, trailing behind with the very end of the group.
What was especially concerning, was that Lan Zhan didn't notice them. Really, Lan Wangji wasn't noticing their not-so discreet eyes piercing into him. He just kept walking.
But a hut, a hut on the hill, would draw attention away from that. A hut on a hill with a fire nonetheless, as smoke came out of the side of the place. The teens cheered, scurrying up closer, but never going past their Second Jade, who kept his simple pace. Luckily he seemed relaxed at the sight. Thank goodness, it was unbearable to see that side of him! Oh Wei Ying was definitely having a conversation with his lover about this later.
Wangji lightly knocked on the door. The loud screech of the bitter wind nearly drowned the voices inside the cabin out. But the door swung open. A woman put a hand to her chest, sighing with relief. "The cultivators have arrived!" She cried out. "Oh you're here, we're saved! We're saved!"
She pushed the door out wider. Groups of people could be seen sitting on the floor, the younger of which appearing to be swaddled in thin, scarce blankets. There was enough people crowded in this tiny house to... To fill a village! Oh!
All of them huddled around a tiny bundle of wood lit aflame in the middle of the floor. Just barely, it seemed, as it was more of a flicker than a flame. The Juniors were already taking care of that, a fire talisman sweeping through the air to get a brighter flame on the already charred wood. "Jingyi, Jin Ling, gather some wood." Lan Wangji instructed. "Sizhui, keep feeding the flame as best as you can."
The three nodded, immediately doing as they were told. Sizhui shielded the fire when the other two had opened the door. Still, the fire wavered, hanging on by what could best be compared to a loose thread. "Miss, what happened?" Wangji asked, in as few, few words as possible. At least that was normal.
"Hanguang-Jun," She started, slowly. "Hanguang-Jun, a few days ago, one of our youngest here, A-Bao, had wandered off. When he came back into town, he said he'd met a little girl." The woman's breath hitched, eyes welling up with tears. "H-He said this girl was friendly, and she wanted to play with him. A-Bao talked to her and... and he mentioned he liked snow. So the little girl promised she'd make it snow for him the next day."
It sounded like a fairytale, almost. "We thought... we thought it was a joke. But the snow came the next day. At the time, it was a coincidence to us. It's winter, we don't usually get a lot of it but it's not uncommon. But the snow never stopped!" She cried out, causing a few gathered by the fire to groan, or cover their ears. "It never stopped! We tried sending requests for aid. But every time we sent someone out, they came back, halfway to death's doorstep! No one could bear the journey! The last person to go out never came back! Sang Meng, our most talented in cultivation! A-Bao is his brother... So he went to fix his mess! Oh please, please!" The woman was kneeling now, gripping her dress, tightly. "Please help us, Hanguang-Jun! The boy might've died! We can't last like this!"
A spirit, most definitely. No curse could do this, and last he'd checked, Wei Ying wasn't aware of any large scale weather changing talismans. However, it would be unlikely this spirit would attempt to freeze over the town, and send a signal while its people were still alive. If it was out to kill, no warnings would be given. Therefore, it was not the spirit to have burnt the tapestry last night. Wei Ying's eyes glimmered with a realization. "Has Sang Meng ever created any original talismans?"
The woman nodded, vigorously. "He's been working on an altered fire talisman last I'd heard. Why?"
"He's alive, or, was. Last night. He could still be out there."
Everyone gasped. Some pulled each other close, some remaining more distant. The juniors were surprised, especially. But hope, hope was in the eyes of the townspeople. It was an all too familiar feeling. Wangji nodded, catching onto what his husband had eluded to. "Incident in the Cloud Recesses." He confirmed, though giving no other details. "Sang Meng could be alive. Most likely with the spirit now. I need to go."
...I? When had there ever been an I with them? The one person Wei Ying did not want of this house, and he was volunteering. "Lan Zhan-" He tried, but honestly, it was no use. He also, in good conscience, did not want to send the kids out in this, possibly to retrieve a body. Besides, his husband was already halfway to the door. "Lan Zhan!!! I'm coming with you! Wait for Xian-gege!"
"Wei Ying will stay here."
"Wei Ying absolutely will not. Silly Lan-er-ge."
They were both impossible to sway from these kinds of things. Righteousness was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. The Second Master Lan sighed, taking his beloved's hand. "Wei Ying is cold. The juniors are cold. They will stay here and help keep warm." He insisted,
Wei Ying huffed. Were they fighting? Was this a fight? No, Wangji was looking at him with those sweet big eyes of his. Guilt trap. It was a guilt trap, do not fall for it. They weren't fighting, Lan Zhan was worried. The other hated that. "Lan Zhan is cold too, he just won't admit it. This Yiling Patriarch is coming with you, and you cannot stop him!" With that, he continued for the door.
Wei Ying was set on this. These kids were absolutely not going to fight whatever was able to plague this whole place with a blizzard. It was definitely not the best idea to bring them, now that they had an idea of what was going on. But they could still help these people, hopefully not freezing in the meantime. "Oh, and A-Yuan, you're in charge. None of you are allowed to come with us, just make yourselves useful here. We're gonna go get the bad thing now! Don'tdoanythingstupidokaybyebye!" He beamed, ignoring the near horrified face of their son, and stepping out into the snow. His soulmate was already ten paces ahead.
Lan Wangji, just what was he not telling his A-Ying?
-
The woman, who Lan Sizhui now knew as Feng Jixiao, turned to face him. "So, are they always like this?"
A-Yuan laughed, timidly. There was only one word that came to mind to answer that, his beloved Hanguang-Jun's favorite phrase in the world. "Mn." He answered, closing his eyes. The disciple couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong, and that he was missing something very important here. But what...
-
Wei Ying panted, holding himself up on his knees. "Lan... Zhan... not so fast." He mumbled, getting no response. Or rather, if he did get one, he couldn't hear. The wind had grown louder since they'd gone inside. But it was just the two of them out here now, and Wei Wuxian was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with his husband. In this case, it had to come first. Spirit, rescue, whatever they were doing, his soulmate came first- and Wei Ying did not have a good feeling about this. No, not at all. Was Lan Zhan swaying?
They'd been walking for about an hour. Honestly, they probably strayed far away from their original direction long ago. Luckily, the two had a teleportation talisman to use if they started to freeze. Over an hour now, and still no sign of a boy. No taunting whispers of a spirit either. If they couldn't find this spirit, they would have to call for additional aid from the clan and evacuate the townspeople. The only reason they hadn't, well, those without a core had a slim chance of surviving long enough to get to safety. Yuanwei would bury itself, something that Wangji understood, and absolutely would not accep- Was Lan Zhan swaying?
No, Wei Ying couldn't give in to paranoia. The winds were strong, and his vision was blurred with snowflakes that would fall from his eyelashes as he blinked. He definitely was not seeing his husband sway as he walked. He wasn't noticing the way that his soulmate clenched his hands, stretching them in and out. What was it? Had he found A-Bao's brother? Was the sight too terrible to see? Wei Ying took his eyes off Hanguang-Jun for a moment, a fraction in time, to try and organize these frenzied thoughts of his...
Thud.
If a thousand snowflakes had fallen last evening, then the Heavens should be happy with what they'd brought down. The will of no deity or divine being ever deserved to take Hanguang-Jun down with it. But he was falling. By sheer adrenaline, Wei Wuixian was moving. As fast as any rules would forbid, he was moving. Across the sea of dusty white, he was going. But today, Wei Ying couldn't move fast enough. The Second Jade hit the ground, any and all color drained from his face. Lan Wangji was on the ground... a ground that began crackling and crunching underneath him. Snow didn't crackle like that. The Earth did not crackle.
They were walking on a lake. A fucking frozen lake for who knows how long. A frozen body of water they somehow had defied fate on until now. But now his soulmate was unconscious. He looked like he had DIED. How far out were they?! The ice was buried under the snow, Wei Ying couldn't tell! He couldn't see- FUCK!
"LAN ZHAN!"
An earth-shattering scream rang out, and god did he run. Wangji dipped below the surface and he ran. Wei Ying didn't even feel as though he was running. No, he was flying, as fast as humanly possible. The ice cracked beneath his feet as he ran, but he would not falter nor slip. The Yiling Patriarch did not stop as he dove just his hands into the freezing water. Thousands of needles shot through his every nerve, barely registering the white cloth he'd gotten ahold of. But once he saw it, he didn't hesitate. Wei Ying pulled. 'Please don't just be the headband,' he thought, desperately. He pulled and pulled with all the strength he'd worked to regain. Come on... come on! Lan Zhan!
Wei Ying fell back with a limp body in his arms. The former Jiang disciple didn't have time to even check if he was still breathing. They had to- he had to keep running! This ice absolutely not going to hold much longer. The teleportation talisman wouldn't be fast enough! He'd fucking play a life and death game of hopscotch across glaciers if he had to. Lan Wangji just fainted on him. He should've stopped him from coming. He should've said something sooner! This was all his fault!
Bichen. Wangji still had Bichen with him. Wei Ying was too weak to ride a sword, he didn't bring Suibian. But goddammit he was gonna ride this sword. WITH Lan Wangji. Unconcious. There were no other options. Bichen already had let him wield them once, a long time ago, so Wei Ying was eternally grateful when he was able to unsheathe the sword again. He threw it straight out, shaking hands gathering up the Second Jade, and hopping on.
Of course, he'd nearly fallen off right then and there. Bichen had taken a sharp swerve left to keep them on. Wei Ying adjusted his footing, and they were going at breakneck speed, on a dizzying, unclear path. He was on a moving tightrope, and could only hope when they eventually got to the ground, it was real ground. Solid, snow-covered ground. The wind hurt as they flew, but any pain in his hands was completely blocked out by frostbitten numbness and sheer determination.
They weren't high. He didn't feel like breaking any bones if they DID get lucky enough to not die from this. Wei Ying could only swing helplessly back and forth, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Eventually, he'd more or less gone dry of spiritual energy and lost his momentum, and they tumbled off the sword, which came to a halt. Wei Ying wasn't sure if he closed his eyes, or they'd done that by himself. He really didn't want to watch himself die again.
There wasn't any cracking. So, one eye peeked back open. Trembling, he slammed down on the ground with his arm. Not slippery. Hard. No cracking sounds. No breaking. Lan Wangji was in his arms. Panicked relief swept over him as though he'd never experienced before. He could cry, hell, he was already close. But it was too cold. Icicles hanging off his face wouldn't help. "Lan Zhan." He whispered pushing his body over to his husband, turning the Lan on his back. His voice was raspy, and god was he tired. "Lan Zhan." He shook. "A-Zhan. Wake up."
He didn't. Wei Ying hunched over him, breathing hard. He took his finger's to the other's wrist, hesitantly. He really, really couldn't feel, though. The Yiling Patriarch's hands were ghostly white. Was Lan Zhan breathing? He thinks so? Fuck it, he'd do it anyway. Wei Ying used his entire body to press into the other's chest. Deep, strong rounds of pushing, with the scarce bits of spiritual energy he had left being infused into his husband.
Before he could do any mouth to mouth (much to his dismay), a pained groan escaped the Second Jade's throat. Wei Ying quickly moved back, gasping. "Lan Zhan?" He asked, lacing his fingers into his soulmate's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to smack him too, but mostly kiss him. Instead, Wangji just turned over, harshly coughing. A small trail of water he'd breathed in fell onto the ground.
Glazed-over eyes stared back at him. The typical strong, striking gaze of the Lan's golden eyes looked more like they were dripping in honey. Wangji blinked, looking confused. "Wei Ying?" He asked, quietly. Wei Ying only nodded, bringing his unfeeling hand to Lan Zhan's face. Wangji looked as though he wanted to say more, but was simply too out of it. It didn't take much thinking to know that he was ice cold, colder than he was, even if Wei Ying couldn't feel it. They had to find shelter.
There was a tree nearby. Wei Ying trudged over with his own tired and bitterly freezing body and snapped off a thick, long branch. Leaning most of his weight onto his new walking stick, he swung Wangji's arm over his shoulders. "Lan Zhan, I'm going to carry you on my back, okay?" He spoke. Switching which hand he held his stick, he got the Second Jade's other arm around his neck. "Hang on for me, please."
Wei Ying had never said a genuine please in his life.
Wangji gave him no answer. Luckily, he seemed to comply, trying to hold his feet up, just a few centimeters off the ground, so they didn't drag. It was enough. Ideally, Wei Ying would be able to hold his legs, or just cradle the other bridal style in his arms once again. But this was not ideal, and he was exhausted. Wei Ying wasn't sure he'd stay upright without leaning against the stick. That, and he refused to stand on the ice again. If they were getting close, the stick would be the one being plunged into the frozen lake. Never would anyone think the Yiling Patriarch would be hunched over, stabbing the Earth with a walking stick with a frozen Hanguang-Jun on his back all those years ago. Yet here they were.
There was nothing to see but white. If only Wei Ying had more spiritual energy. The teleportation talisman they'd brought was just about useless now. Neither of them would have enough to use it- Lan Zhan's was far too important in keeping him alive. No signals would work in the blizzard either. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision for them to come alone. Then again, if all those kids had fallen into the ice... Wei Wuxian would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive himself for this.
...Wangji had closed his eyes again, head buried into Wei Ying's back as they walked. Was it a relief? Or was he- no, Wei Ying couldn't think about that. He was fine, for now. He WOULD be fine. When this was all over, fuck it, they were going on a break. A year-long break far away from any of this. No night hunting, no cultivation world. The Sects would just have to learn how to live without him and Lan Zhan solving all their problems. The world owed them it's kindness.
Heh, if he wasn't so blind, maybe things would be different. Maybe he could've married Lan Zhan all those years ago. Maybe the Burial Mounds could be the Yiling Wei Sect by now. Maybe Wen Qing and Granny Wen and Uncle Four would be sitting around a table as they feast. Or maybe they'd all be in the Cloud Recesses. Wen Ning would be perfect for this job, considering he's dead. He wanted to call him, in a desperate attempt, but Wei Ying knew he was in Lanling right now.
Maybe if he'd gotten Jiang Cheng out of that damn Wen prison earlier... They'd both have their cores. Maybe he wouldn't have walked his single-plank bridge. He could be sitting in Lotus Pier right now, and Shijie...
A cave. A cave?
He was hallucinating. That definitely wasn't the entrance to a cave. Oh, but it was too good to pass up. For Lan Zhan's sake, he'd have to hope it was real. Slowly sweeping through the mountains of white wet shit, Wei Ying put a hand to the outside rock wall of the hallucinated cave. Solid. Solid? It was real.
The inside was dark, damp, and depressing. Not the first cave they'd be stuck in, unfortunately. This one at least looked a little different, ice hanging from the ceiling in certain spots. But the cave- it was also deep. Deep enough to hide away from the whirring wind outside, and finally sit down with the Second Jade. He didn't waste a moment to pat his hand on the other's cheek, even if his own bones screamed at him. "Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, you can't sleep anymore." Wei Ying spoke, soft, and hurriedly. "Lan Zhan. Open your eyes."
Those golden, honey glow eyes fluttered once more. "Wei Ying." Lan Wangji repeated, as if picking up where he'd left off before. Just by the way his head rested off the cave wall, Wei Ying could tell he was dizzy. "What-"
"I'd like to ask you the same question, Mister 'I'm fine I don't need a break' and 'let's faint on my husband'." The other bit, not exactly meaning to be harsh about it. Still, it probably came off that way. "You. You fainted. What the hell have you been doing? Why won't you talk to me?" Stop. He wasn't angry. Why was he saying these things?
'I'm sorry.' Wei Ying thought, his breath hitching. 'I'm so sorry for not doing something sooner. I let you fall.'
"I..." Wangji really, REALLY looked tired. But Wei Ying couldn't let him sleep. No, not until he warmed up, even just a little. Otherwise, he might never wake up again. "I can't tell... Wei Ying. I can't tell him." The Second Master suddenly shot upright, grasping at Wei Ying's clothes. "You won't tell him, will you? Please don't tell him."
Oh, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. Deliria? "...I won't tell him." Wei Ying answered back, sadly. He shuffled on the floor. That walking stick was about to come in hand. "I won't tell him anything... but we need to get you warmed up." Snapping the stick into three... four smaller sticks, he sprinkled them on a dry spot. Luckily, there was another tree right outside the cave entrance. So Wei Ying had taken Bichen once again, the sword being much heavier this time and chopped up bundles of logs. He came back to the same, mumbling Lan Zhan seated in the exact same place.
He had a fire talisman. Not that he couldn't start one on his own, but this was way easier. Plus, he didn't need spiritual energy for this one. A bit of his tinkering had come to the rescue. Fire talismans were one of the easiest to alter, he'd found. But if that kid had sent a strategic fire all the way to the Cloud Recesses, well, he was a bit of a genius. His rescue would have to wait, though.
The fire caught, blazingly. Sticking his hands over it made them feel as though they were melting back to some degree of normal. "Lan Zhan, I'm gonna move you closer to the fire, okay?"
He didn't get a verbal response. But he did get a pout, and puffed out cheeks. That couldn't help but make him laugh. "Ah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," He spoke, carrying his lover and plopping him on the ground, for him to then lean against Wei Ying's body. "Is Lan Zhan five? No, that can't be it. How about three?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.
What didn't Wangji want to tell him? He couldn't be sure. All he could do was gather them up and throw them into the fire. Dissipate, burn and disintegrate and fly away. Make like a bird and fly away.
Hanguang-Jun was down. They had no idea where the spirit was. The Juniors and all the townspeople were waiting for them. Sang Meng's survival was looking less and less likely by the minute.
Lan Zhan was down.
"Shijie," He looks up, frowning, "Xianxian doesn't know what to do now."
#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#cql#the untamed#wangxian#lan wangji#wei wuxian#lan zhan#wei ying#lan sizhui#a-yuan#wen yuan#hurt/comfort#frankencanon#tw delirium#tw exhaustion#tw fainting#tw hypothermia#yes i threw him into a lake#what about it#hurt/comfort and angst children come get your food#you too wangji stans
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WIP Juniors-Centric Fic
This is the same scene I posted before but this time with Lan Jingyi playing witness to Ouyang Zizhen instead of Jin Ling and with context. The Juniors have been accused of the equivalent of Manslaughter. Sect Leader Yao’s Son’s death was an accident, but if they tell the truth they’ll have to expose Lan Sizhui’s parentage to Sect Leader Yao who will absolutely want to kill him. So Ouyang Zizhen lies to protect him and claims that he’s solely responsible for Yao Ji’s death.
“We have multiple and very different accounts of what happened that night.” Zewu Jun says, full of the most tranquil fury. “Though much of that might be because of Tongqing Jun and Sect Leader Jin’s injuries.” Lan Jingyi winces. It’s strange hearing Lan Sizhui’s title come out of Zewu Jun’s mouth. “The former’s injuries were especially grave. He will need intense meditation to recover his golden core.” Lan Qiren “hm”s in agreement. For all intents and purposes, he’s Lan Sizhui’s intermediary while Hanguang Jun maintains vigil at Lan Sizhui’s bedside. So really, he’s serving the exact same purpose as Sect Leader Yao. “You will be taking responsibility for their injuries as well.”
“They’re as much victims of your ineptitude as my son.” Sect Leader Yao blusters. Lan Jingyi tries not to sigh in relief. That doesn’t mean they’ve been declared innocent.
“Your transgressions are as follows: Fighting on the premises of Cloud Recesses, Disobeying Orders during A Night Hunt, Breaking The Sacred Northern Ward, Disturbing the graves of Lan Sect Cultivators, allowing the resulting resentful energy to taint the Honored Guardian Zhanze Kan, Breaking the Guardian Taboo, The Negligent Death of Second Young Master Yao Ji, Grievous Bodily Harm to two fellow Cultivators and the manipulation of resentful energy. What say you to these charges?” They sound like criminals. Lan Jingyi is at a loss. He wants to say something to defend himself and Zizhen like: “Yao Ji is the one who botched the night hunt” or “Zhanze Kan was tainted before they got there.” But would they believe him? They still did break the ward, after all. Yao Ji is still dead. And it is Lan Jingyi’s fault Jin Ling got so injured. He opens his mouth to say something but Zizhen - the giant fool - beats him to it.
“Zhouyue Jun is not at fault for any of this. He was only trying to stop me.” Lan Jingyi’s heart sinks so quickly he almost gags. Zizhen has never called him by his title before. “He pleaded with me to consider what I might be doing but my anger, spurred by my rivalry with Yao...I mean Second Young Master Yao, blinded me. I don’t know how he got behind the ward but I broke it to continue our fight.”
Jingyi has never heard such a cacophonous silence.
“This is quite out of character for you.” Seclusion has not been kind to Lan Xichen. Raw from lack of use, his voice is so different from the kind, gentle man everyone remembers. “They call you Shan Tuisuan because of your heroism during the Huangshan Calamity. It’s hard to believe anyone can push such a famously level-headed young man to make such a foolish decision.” Lan Jingyi knows when he’s being provoked. He almost chokes on the blood pouring from his bitten lip. Ouyang Zizhen looks up into Lan Xichen’s hardened expression.
“Anyone can be pushed to the edge.” A bold thing to say but effective. Lan Xichen turns his back for a moment. He could be thinking, but Jingyi knows that he’s just trying to maintain his composure. It’s been a while since he’s had to do this with someone outside of the Lan Sect.
Lan Jingyi wishes he could say what makes Zizhen so bold in this moment. He wishes he could speak up and take some of the blame but the words stick in his throat. If Jin Ling was in his place, he would never shut up. He would insist that they punish them both. Yet Lan Jingyi finds himself silent. Afraid. He’s never felt like such a coward, but he supposes that’s just his true nature coming out. He’s studied a lot of history. BRave men rarely live long.
“Zewu Jun.” Sect Leader Yao clears his throat. “It’s true. While Ouyang Zizhen and my son once shared a near brotherly relationship, this turned adversarial in their adolescence. I thought it was simply childish whims and would improve over time but with the…” He trails off looking dubiously at Lan Wangji and back to Lan Xichen. “...second siege of the Burial Mounds I began to lose hope for a reconciliation. Despite his reputation, A-Ji was a good boy and exemplified the Yao Sect. He never quite agreed with Ouyang Zizhen’s habit of talking out of turn.”
“I never agreed with the way he treated Nie Hualin.” Zizhen doesn’t even sound like himself. Lan Jingyi can’t remember the last time Zizhen was visibly angry. He can’t help but stare. He has every bit of the tranquil fury Lan Jingyi pretends to have.
“Don’t be so cocky, boy! Just because you managed to curry the favor of the Head Cultivator, doesn’t mean you were entitled to his heir’s hand in marriage.” Sect Leader Yao never cared for the Nie Sect anyway, what he cares about is the potential filial tie to a major sect being lost.
“I never intended to marry Nie Hualin. She was simply a good friend and I wouldn’t consider myself a good man if I didn’t defend her honor.” Zizhen’s voice is level and calm but he’s shaking. “She lied so he could save face. I warned him that I wouldn’t be so kind.”
“So you have no remorse for your actions?” Sect Leader Yao bellows, horrified.
“I regret the collateral damage. Zhouyue Jun knew what could’ve happened if I went past the barrier and for my grudge against Second Young Master Yao Ji. He tried to stop me. It was foolish to involve the people of Caiyi and Northern Gusu and to severely damage Zhanze Kan even if unintentionally. But if you are asking me if I regret what happened to Yao Ji? No. I don’t.”
A realization washes over Lan Jingyi Sect muting Leader Yao’s enraged shouting. This isn’t just a selfless act. Is Zizhen willing to go this far just for pride’s sake? He’s never heard anything so foolish. This giant idiot, this selfish bastard, this…!
“Zhouyue Jun?” Lan Jingyi involuntarily flinches. He’s still not used to being called by his title. “Can you corroborate Ouyang Zizhen’s testimony?”
Stuck between being an innocent child and full-grown adult, they have a lot to prove as the new cultivating generation. Some call them mavericks, other’s new fangled idiots but at their core, they are friends. They made an oath to each other to help fight each other’s battles. Zizhen’s battle with Yao Ji is one that’s nearly a decade old. Is this about wounded pride? Is it about avenging Nie Hualin? Saving Lan Sizhui? He doesn’t know anymore. What Lan Jingyi does know is that he made a promise. Lan Sect precepts dictate that your word is your bond. Even if he hates every second of it.
“Yes.”
#The untamed#mo dao zu shi#lan jingyi#Lan Sizhui#Ouyang Zizhen#Jin Ling#the juniors#Lan Xichen#Sadly Lan Xichen is kind of the antagonist here.#He's...not in good health.
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