happy mid-autumn festival!!! i hope it's a day of good fortune and reunion for everyone! i yearn for the day in which i am able to eat a mooncake.
much to my chagrin this drawing appears very different on desktop and on mobile but oh well. i think i'll take a crack at writing an ID for this one, just because there are a few characters! including xunyang 83 everyone else is offscreen lol but they're there i promise
[ID: a scene depicting a moonlit picnic to mark the start of mid-autumn festival, featuring several characters from MDZS, as well as two of the artist's own characters from a fic titled Dawn Chorus. in the bottom left corner sit Wen Zhuliu, Wang Lingjiao, Mo Xuanyu and Wen Chao. they are conversing pleasantly. the bottom right corner hosts Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan and Jin Ling, alongside a puppy version of Fairy. Jiang Yanli has brought her famous soup, as well as some spring rolls. Jin Ling is lying down and holding a lantern as his mother strokes his back. Jin Zixuan has a loving arm around his wife's torso. behind them, Jiang Cheng is attempting to wrangle Fairy and keep her from eating their food. above and to the left sit the Dawn Chorus characters Wen Xun and the fic-specific version of Xue Yang, who has his arm around him as he laughs. they've brought wine. in Xue Yang's lap sits an infant, Hexie, who is reaching out to a fruit gleefully offered to them by Standard Edition Xue Yang, who is sitting a bit ahead with A-Qing, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, who smile at the scene while drinking tea and eating. they've brought a platter of crab. to the right of them sit Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, who are happily holding Lan Sizhui between them. their snack is watermelon. behind them, just arriving, are Mianmian, who is carrying her daughter in her arms, and her husband, who is carrying their lantern and food. behind them is Wen Qing, who is calling out to Wen Ning, who is rushing up to her with a smile and a box in his hands. the corner of a blanket in the top left and the top of someone's head in the bottom right suggest there are more people at the gathering. a few white flowers bloom on the grass everyone sits on, predominantly around Wen Xun. every picnic blanket has mooncakes, and most characters brought lanterns. many other lanterns are seen floating by and up into the sky, towards the full moon. the atmosphere is friendly and lighthearted. /end ID]
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For wen!wwx: "I may have made a mistake in taking you to Nightless City, A-Ying" were the last words Wen-shushu had spoken to him, a little more than a fortnight after he was slain in battle. Contrary to popular belief, it was Wen Zhuliu who saved A-Ying and took him to Nightless City. Wen Rouhan raised him to be a weapon, but Wen Zhuliu raised him as a son.
(link to part 1)
By the winter Wei Wuxian turned thirty-six, Qishan Wen had been at war for two years; but in those two years, very little had changed behind the walls of the Nightless City.
The wine ran as freely as it always did, and even the lowest-ranking guest disciples were allotted more treasures and fine foods than most well-to-do commoners would see in a year. The rare few of the clan who had spent time in the halls of the mortal emperor—Wei Wuxian among them, for his master wanted the emperor to know something of the raw power that lurked in Qishan, in case he ever thought of claiming even an inch of Wen territory for his own—were aware Wen Ruohan's sect banquets were far richer than anything the imperial court had to offer: and even if the war were to last another decade, the cities clustered around the great Sun Palace in Bu Ye Tian would flow with gold for ten times that span at the least.
Strength counted for much in the Jianghu, and for a great deal more outside it—and Wen Ruohan treasured the cultivators who labored for him as he treasured his own saber, so long as their younger selves had proved loyal enough to be permitted to reach adulthood.
Of the four children Wen Zhuliu brought back to Bu Ye Tian some thirty-odd years ago, only one had achieved that honor: the youngest, Wei Ying, plucked from the streets in upper Yiling some months before his fifth birthday.
He had grown up well, Wen Zhuliu thought, as he watched Wei Wuxian move across the banquet hall with a double-eared wine cup in his hand. The handmaidens at the Wei-fu had braided his hair with gold, so that the full, shining mass of it reflected the light from the lamps on the walls like a mirror; and though Wen Ruohan recalled him from Langya nearly six months ago now, he had not yet lost the watchful bearing of a general waiting under cover of darkness for his enemy to strike.
"Zhao-shushu," he said, toasting him with his half-empty cup of wine as Wen Zhuliu drew closer. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since..."
"It's been nearly a year, I think," Wen Zhuliu replied, inclining his head. "When we were stationed together in Jiangling."
A shadow crossed Wei Wuxian's face; and too late, Wen Zhuliu remembered that Jiangling was where his erstwhile ward bore witness to the execution of Yu Hengshan, in spite of Wen Zhuliu's best efforts to ensure that he was occupied elsewhere at the hour of Yu Hengshan's death.
He was absurdly soft-hearted for a man who had spent the last two years between war fronts and Wen Ruohan's great strategy chamber, and it discomfited Wen Zhuliu immensely.
"How is A-Yuan?" he said softly, for Wei Wuxian's yang son was one of the few subjects they could speak of without stirring the dreadful shuttered look in Wei Wuxian's eyes—though that had been present in some form or other from the day he was sworn into Wen Ruohan's service, and would likely never leave him throughout the remainder of his life.
"He is well," Wei Wuxian answered, nodding towards the artificial stream carved into the ground of the garden adjoining the feasting hall. Wen Zhuliu turned and saw a gaggle of youths and young girls kneeling by the water's edge, scribbling verses of poetry onto plain white lanterns; and then, following the line of his ward's outstretched hand, he saw that the boy at the front of the group looked like a smaller, light-hearted version of Wei Ying.
"How old is he?"
"Eighteen." Wei Wuxian's hand tightened around the base of his cup. "He's nearly old enough to wear a proper guan, if you can believe it."
Ah, Wen Zhuliu realized, with no small amount of pity—for if the war did not end within these next two years, Wen Yuan would be among the new soldiers sent to war, perhaps as part of his own father's regiment.
He reached out and grasped Wei Wuxian's arm.
"A-Ying," he said urgently. "This war will not last long enough to draw your A-Yuan into it. You know Lanling Jin cannot endure for much longer, what with Meng Yao—and once Lanling falls, Yunmeng will crumble soon after. Yu Hengshan was Yunmeng Jiang's greatest backer, and now that he has been slain—"
"Yes, but what then?"
Wen Zhuliu paused, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Once the Jianghu has been brought under our colors, what then?" Wei Wuxian murmured, before taking a long drink of wine. "The Jin might live peacefully under Junshang's rule—they will have no choice, for they are not strong enough to do otherwise—but the Jiang will abandon their clan seat if needs must, and flee to rebuild elsewhere. And once they rise to prominence again, what will our lord do next?"
And what will you do? his eyes seemed to say; and though Wen Zhuliu had vowed to murder Yu Hengshan when he was a child of sixteen, his ears were suddenly filled with the screams of the civilian woman who had discovered the man's decapitated corpse in a rowboat on Lake Lianhua.
He had not lingered long enough to listen to the screams of Yu Hengshan's sister, for fear that his heart would break at the knowledge that Yu Ziyuan grieved this brother of hers despite all he had done to them both—but now, the echoes of her cries were so clear in his mind that he was half-convinced he had heard them in truth, all those months ago.
"I will do whatever Wen-zongzhu commands me to do," Wen Zhuliu said at last. "I was sworn to him for life, just as you were."
In answer, the fingers of Wei Wuxian's right hand rose and fluttered restlessly over his shoulder: the left shoulder, where his wide collar hid the set of obedience sigils that Wen Ruohan carved into his flesh on the day he came of age.
"Yes," he whispered, his gaze straying once more to his son. "I am sworn to him for life—just as you are."
They parted not long after that, for Wen Zhuliu had only come back to the Nightless City for Wei Wuxian's birthday banquet, and he was due to return to Hejian early the next day. He had other generals to greet, and Wei Wuxian had gone off to judge the results of the winding-stream contest taking place in the garden; but shortly before dawn, Wen Zhuliu sought Wei Wuxian out once again and drew the younger man into his arms.
"Happy birthday," he said. "May you have ten lifetimes' worth of them, my child."
Wei Wuxian smiled tearfully—and suddenly, Wen Zhuliu was certain that after tonight, he would never lay eyes on this ward of his again.
"I wish it had not been like this," he blurted. "If I had not brought you back to the Nightless City all those years ago, then perhaps..."
Wei Wuxian's eyes flickered toward the throne at the front of the hall.
"What other purpose could I have served than this one?" he said quietly. "You had your revenge, and I was given the honor of serving Junshang. That is the end of it."
And with that, he kissed Wen Zhuliu on the brow, and vanished into the night.
Wen Zhuliu never did see him again, for he met his death on the Hejian front within the next fortnight; and when his jian was brought back to the Bu Ye Tian, it was sent to Wei Wuxian's residence, the High General's manor, where it would remain until the Wei-fu went up in flames with its master still locked inside it.
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"As for Wen Zhuliu...he owed Wen Ruohan a debt of kindness for his recognition. So much so that he changed his surname to join the Wen Clan and carried out Wen Ruohan's orders to protect his precious little son."
What a perfectly twisted shadow of Wei Wuxian's story. Both owe a debt of kindness to a father figure, tasked with serving as a body guard for that man's son.
But only Wen Zhuliu treats it as sacrosanct, even to the point of and hurting others. (WWX: "And why must others pay the price for your debt?") And only Wen Zhuliu changed his name—perhaps he's gone so far in repaying the debt that he lost his own self?
Wei Wuxian, otoh, while he might destroy himself to repay his debt... still remains his own person with his own moral judgement.
oooohhhh my god as I'm writing this I realize Wen Zhuliu melts other people's golden cores while Wei Wuxian gave up his own.
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I love AUs where Wen Zhuliu ends up a good guy for whatever various reasons but most of them do Not capture this man’s comedy potential. Wen Zhuliu doesn’t tell Wen Chao jack shit. Wen Zhuliu willingly drinks the wine he KNOWS Wen Ning spiked because it’s not lethal and therefore Not something he has to care about. He knows full well WWX doesn’t have a golden core and just stands there letting Wen Chao threaten to have him destroy WWX’s golden core. Like. The sheer overworked minimum wage employee energy this man exudes.
And I know, okay, I know that we’ve all collectively decided that it’s because he fucking hates his job, he hates Wen Chao, he hates the Core Melting Hand, but he feels honor-bound to deal with it, so he is going to do The Bare Minimum to comply with his personal code of loyalty and not a fucking shred more. Presumably, if he were working for someone he actually liked, who’s ideals he supported, he would be more engaged and enthusiastic!
But I still don’t think he’d tell anybody anything. I think he’d be more proactive and even more protective and compassionate (yes, compassionate, Wen Chao didn’t deserve it but the man was downright tender when treating his wounds; he clearly is capable of gentleness and even kindness) but I also think that if somebody tried to hurt you you would be the last person to know.
It would be like six months after the fact and you’d be like “Huh where did this stain come from?” And he would be like “yeah sorry I tried to get the blood out but that assassin flopped all over the floor I guess I missed a spot” and you’d be like “ASSASSIN??!” And he’d be like “yeah here I brought you tea” and then just Never Elaborate.
“I know this sounds crazy but these robes that look exactly like my favorite robes are Not my favorite robes and Cannot articulate how or why”
“Oh yeah the laundress was paid to soak them in poison so you’d die the next time you wore them. I threw the old ones out, commissioned an identical pair, and then killed the laundress and the guy who paid her.”
And you would just have to be like “Oh. Okay. Got it… thanks?”
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