#i have nothing i wanted to say to him mY ASS JIANG WANYIN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wangxianslillotus · 3 years

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Au where Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang and Jin ZiXuan go to a haunted house into the forest of a mountain, in the middle of the night because ghosts won't show up during the day time.

Nie Huaisang hears that inside the house you can find incredible scary things such as talismans, bloody walls, screams at some point of the night, evidence of rituals. He even hears that there is a witch living in one of the rooms at the very end of the house.

Mostly, he knows that this is true due to pictures that one college classmate took a couple of days ago, but the pictures that people take of the witch always dissappear as if it was never there.

Indeed, it is a very creepy thing, but as Huaisang is SO curious about it, and Jiang Cheng is a good boyfriend, he comes along to protect him just in case.

And as for Jin ZiXuan, he comes along because his girlfriend, YanLi, is worried for his brother's well-being, knowing WanYin it's an actual scary cat. So yeah, he joins the party for the expedition into that damn haunted house.

When they arrive, they try to pry from one of the windows, just to prevent the immediate encounter with the witch. They see candles lighted on the ground that project weird shadows and shapes all around the place. As the rumors had said, the walls are full of talismans of all kinds, some drawings made with what they absolutely think that is blood, and there are hanging some papers from the ceilings above the bloody circle in the floor. They can't see more than that, and Huaisang hasn't satisfied his curiosity yet, he says. He wants to see the witch.

Jiang Cheng looks at Huaisang and wants to fucking kick his ass down the mountain, but instead just tells him how much he loves him to get a foot inside that eery ass house. They hold hands while entering the house, slowly and being the most careful they have ever been in their lives. The wood of the floor makes a scratchy sound as they walk into the first room, paper doors already long gone.

It is a very old house, at least that much they know. As they saw from the window, the room next to this one is the one with the papers hanging from the ceiling, but in the current one there seems to be some kind of altar, surrounded by more candles and incense that smells not so bad. They keep walking, looking at the walls of the window room quite closely now, amazed by how the witch has prepared so many things.

They are keeping it in by short, and it shows when they hear running footsteps in the next room. There is a paper door that's almost destroyed in between the two rooms, and they do catch a glimpse of a little shadow running into another further room from the spaces that were supposed to be covered with the paper.

Jiang Cheng mutters, "what the fuck?" Huaisang holding tighter onto his arm, and ZiXuan resisting the impulse that wants to make him run to hold Huaisang too, all of them scared to death.

They hear nothing now, but even so, they stay still for a couple of minutes. When nothing happens, they keep going further because Huaisang wanted to get a glimpse of the witch. And if Huaisang wanted, Jiang Cheng complied. And Jin ZiXuan wanted to leave them both right there.

ZiXuan opens the door after being pushed by Jiang Cheng, sliding it to the side with utmost silence. In this room there's only a table on the ground, full of scattered things that are just as gloomy as the first two rooms. They look like pieces of toys, and there are some tools too that Jiang Cheng recognizes from his sister's work, but that doesn't bring him any good feelings.

Suddenly a tug in his arm makes him turn, Huaisang pointing with his mouth full open to the door next room. Jiang Cheng looks, but doesn't see anything until he does, and then he's tugging at ZiXuan's arm with urgency.

"The... the... corner." He instructs, his voice being barely a tiny thread compared to his usual loud voice. ZiXuan doesn't even question it, he follows his instructions in case they need to run away. But when he does, he too, gets paralyzed at the sight.

There are two small hands holding the door that guides to the next room. Two small hands and the half of a child's face staring at them.

They stay still for what feels like ages, so when a big terrific shadow projects over their heads in the wall in front of them, greatly defined thanks to the thousands of candles lighted in the previous room, along with the happy kid's voice calling "papa" to something or someone pass them, they jump straight into different reactions.

Huaisang faints. He goes limp on the floor, and Jiang Cheng barely registers his fall, still frozen like a statue. ZiXuan runs towards the opposite wall to the one that projects the shadow, and turns around to confront it with a loud scream.

"Could you please be silent, you're scaring my son." The man speaks, already tired of the scene, even if he finds it hilarious. His voice is very chill, and he doesn't look much older than them. The little kid opens the door and runs towards him, hiding behind his legs.

Jiang Cheng turns around after gaining some of his soul back, ready to punch the man with all his strength until he turns him into a real ghost, but decides that his fainted boyfriend needs a little bit more of attention. He holds Huaisang closer as he speaks, "We are scaring him? He almost killed my man!!!"

The man chuckles, "You pretty much deserve that for coming into my home in the middle of the night." He states, patting the little boy's head with care.

"... your... home?" ZiXuan asks, confused. How could someone live in a place like this? It was insane. Jiang Cheng now tries to wake Huaisang up with a little slap on his cheek, but gets no response at all.

"Do I look like I am fond to repeat my words?" The man says, glaring at ZiXuan. The kid suddenly tugs at his father's pants, making grabby hands towards him, and with a smile, the man complies his son's wishes.

Jiang Cheng mutters, "This haunted place doesn't look like a home..."

"Ow, I'm sorry I missed the home-decor meeting, man." The man scoffs, making a half smile. "Now, even if you are intruders in my home," He paused, "I am a very good host, so unless you prefer to wait for him to wake up while you go down the woods to the city, you can bring him up to the living room."

He doesn't wait for an answer from the boys, and instead, he walks over the next room. They are quite surprised when they see him turn the lights on, and after sharing a look, they both take Huaisang, following the man deeper into the house.

They get into another room, laying Huaisang in the couch that the man points lazily as he dissappears into another room.

Jiang Cheng and Jin ZiXuan instantly get closer, and start discussing the current events.

"What the fuck?" ZiXuan starts, holding himself close by grabbing onto Jiang Cheng's shoulder.

"I don't know, what is going on, man..." he responds, sighing. "Wasn't this supposed to be a haunted house with a witch and all that?"

"Who said that? So rude." A third voice joins them with whispers too, making them jump again. They breat heavily, lips pressing while shooting glares to the man that returned from wherever he was.

"Can you stop?" Jiang Cheng barks, pushing the man with his shoulder without second thought. The man looks at him, eyes full of innocence.

"I'm not doing anything." He provides, disconcerted by the request.

"You're appearing out of nowhere, so suddenly... we're still kind of... getting our nerves back, you know?" ZiXuan explains the best way he can. The man makes an understanding gesture with his face, and apologizes in a whisper again.

They go silent a while more, just staring blankly at Huaisang, that shows no signs of waking up anytime soon. Until the man tries to break the ice.

"Since you're already here, and all that... what are your names?" He asks, taking a seat next to the table that matches the couch, on the floor. He looks at them with a sweet smile, looking almost happy for having them there.

"Uhh..." Jiang Cheng side looks at ZiXuan before answering. "Are you sure you're not going to like... throw a curse at us or something like that?"

The man laughs wholeheartedly at his words, grabbing his stomach and all, before answering, "Oh, no. You got enough already, didn't you?" He said putting his elbows onto the table, "But for you to be somewhat reassured, my name is Wei WuXian".

With that, the other two were indeed reassured. "I am Jin ZiXuan, he is Jiang WanYin... and this deceased one is Nie Huaisang. We are truly sorry for breaking in like this. And for scaring your son, too. He looks like a good child." He tries with a smile. With that, Wei WuXian seems to relax even more, as a proud father that he was.

"Oh, A-yuan is the best. He's sleeping now, but I promise that he is. Now, would you mind telling me who said that this was a Haunted house? I wouldn't want more people breaking in in my sleep, you know?"

"It was... one of Huaisang's college classmates. They came here the other night and took some pictures to show around." Jiang Cheng sits while talking, right next to Huaisang's legs. If he was going to be chatty, then at least he should be comfy.

Wei WuXian made a face at that information. That wasn't good at all.

"I see..."

They pause for another couple of seconds, until Jiang Cheng couldn't hold it anymore. He has a curiosity too, and just like his boyfriend, he's very often, not so good at containing it.

"Why do you live here?" He wanted to know since he realized that there was no witch, no ghost, but just a lot of awful choices with decorations, probably to scare away people in the first place, or something like that, and a little boy in his pajamas waiting for his dad to come back home.

Wei WuXian sighs, "I don't have money to rent a better place at the city, and with my current job I have enough to pay for a tuition for A-yuan. I'm searching, tho. For better jobs, and better conditions too, but... it's been pretty though. 23 years old, a child, no bank account or references and no other job experiences, people don't really want that on their heads when I do the interviews." He wishes he had a beer or something to talk about his problems with people he barely knew, but he supposes that that was exactly the reason why he could talk without saving himself some face, without having to pretend that he was not affected by what he couldn't control. They have already seen a lot, too. So what else could be saved.

Jiang Cheng and Jin ZiXuan felt for what Wei WuXian was going through. They weren't exactly the best empaths, but they knew how hard the things could be for some people.

Jiang Cheng had seen his mother after the divorce, refusing to accept the money his father sent them because she thought that it was the fastest way to get completely away from him and his lack of everything at their past relationship. He had seen her working hard to earn her place in the world, and had seen her distressed when they had no money to spare, not even for a toy. They were better now, way better. But he never forgot.

Not even now, seeing the same expression that his mom had at the time, plastered in Wei WuXian's face while he lets a sigh take away some tension.

You could... come with us. He wants to say. We have a spare room where you could live with your child for a while until you get some money. He really wants to say. But he doesn't find the words.

"How is your son doing with all this, WuXian?" ZiXuan asks, knowing the background of the thinking process that was going on inside of Jiang Cheng's mind. Wei WuXian wrinkles his nose a little bit, trying to pull some strength.

"He..." he sighs, changing his position, "He's trying his best. He doesn't like this place, we're not feeling safe here, and he has nightmares from time to time. But he studies hard even if he's tired, and eats whatever I can bring onto the table... he never complains." Sometimes, Wei WuXian wanted that his son complained, so that he could blame himself for everything that was going on. It was his fault, in the first place. But his son's smiles hurted him even deeper than any blame that he could phantom.

"It's been long?" Jiang Cheng finally got a grip on his memories, and he rejoins the conversation. "Since you live here."

Wei WuXian looks at him and thinks, has it been long? "Mmh... no more than six months."

"That's!!!" Jiang Cheng quarrels with a sudden scream. Wei WuXian looks at him surprised, and Jiang Cheng clears his throat before continuing, "that's a lot of time..."

"Indeed, it is." Wei WuXian answers, dry. It was already more than the "couple of weeks" that he said he needed to get everything under control. It was by far more than a couple of weeks.

When Jiang Cheng was about to offer him that he joined the Jiang house, Nie Huaisang made a sound in complain, making them jump onto their feets to check him.

"Babe... if you're so much of a scary cat to faint on the spot, then we shouldn't have come to a supposed haunted house." Jiang Cheng said, pulling his boyfriend's cheek when he confirmed that he was okay.

Nie Huaisang makes a pout but doesn't argue on that. Instead, he focuses on the unknown man in black at the side of his boyfriend, and offers a polite smile.

"How long have you been awake?" Wei WuXian asks, not being fooled by his smile. Huaisang presses his lips, he's been caught on the spot. The other two boys look surprised, was he faking it?

"... Since A-Cheng asked you why you live here..." he confesses, turning pink on his cheeks.

"A-Sang!" Jiang Cheng complains, frowning deep. "Why didn't you say something?"

"How could I just talk in the middle of all that?! You would have stopped right away... besides, it would have been the most uncomfortable thing ever. So spare me, A-Cheng!" He took his boyfriend's hand into his, pulling him to seat again at his side in the couch.

ZiXuan rolls his eyes and takes a seat in front of Wei WuXian, not wanting to pay attention to the couple. He knew better already. And it seemed that Wei WuXian could predict them too, because he just sat back on the floor. There where a couple of seconds more until the couple settles, finally paying attention to the previous conversation.

"So... you... live... alone with your son?" Huaisang asks, tip toeing the words, not so sure how would it sound once pronounced. Wei WuXian stares at him for a second, not really looking. It was more like he was looking at the past for a couple of moments, but he ends up smiling, stiff but deciding to answer.

"I do. We do. It's just A-Yuan and Wei Ying." He declares. It wasn't bad. It wasn't good either, in some terms.

It was good, because Wei WuXian loved every single day he spends by his precious son's side, he loves the way his little boy munches his food, the way he sleeps, the way he treats the world, he did his best everyday, even to random stray cats that showed up on their door, his son was the best and the cutest. He loves him. But... it wasn't good for A-Yuan, because these weren't the proper conditions for his son's health or education, nor to his well-being and growth. Wei WuXian knows it.

The other three boys didn't knew what to say to that, to be fair. They couldn't just avoid the feeling that something definitely had happened, but also they couldn't quite grab exactly what had happened, so they really didn't knew what to say in response. It wasn't like Wei WuXian wasn't sharing, or keeping secrets. He was being bare open to their questioning, but this... just seems way too personal for them to dig it up just like that.

Wei WuXian seems to catch the feeling in the air, because he agitates his hand in front of his nose, like fanning something, saying "Oh, no. Don't mind it. Really, it isn't something that hurts to speak of."

They breathe again, and look at him with expectation in their eyes. Wei WuXian is happy that he, now, has someone who will listen to his story, his and his son's. But it wasn't the moment, was it?

"He isn't really my son. He is, because I love him, and because I adopted him. But I'm not his biological father." He provided in a whisper, that being enough for now. "He doesn't know, so I'm not quite comfortable with saying it out loud here."

They all made an understanding nod, all with different expressions, but understanding nonetheless. Wei WuXian smiled warmly.

That night, the party left the haunted house with a new friend and a new trouble to be talked and solved. They arrived at the Jiang house, still talking about what or how would they ask Madam Yu permission for bringing their new friend, plus one little boy, under their roof.

Madam Yu wasn't quite enchanted by the full idea, of course, she wanted to help, but bringing a man into the house would be a little bit shocking to the people in the neighborhood, but she knew why his son was doing all of this. And they could say that it was a friend of Jiang Cheng, which was true. They sat sat the table until four am, talking about how would they live from now on. They even talked about making Wei WuXian a contract for rent, in case he needed it for any reason that could come up in the future. When they settled most of the things, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang went to the room that they were going to give Wei WuXian to prepare it, ZiXuan went to his own home, and Madam Yu went to her study to check out prices of furniture that the boy and his son would probably need.

..................

Later that week, WanYin and Huaisang went up the mountain again. They walk for quite a bit until they are in front of the house in the middle of the forest. Under the daylight, the house looks not so scary anymore, but instead just bad maintained.

There are some toys scattered on the side of the entrance, when they pass. Huaisang slides his hand onto his boyfriend's and smiles at him excitedly. They go further down the house until the actual main entrance, announcing their arrival with a loud voice, so that Wei WuXian doesn't get surprised, at least in the wrong way.

Wei Ying turns around with A-Yuan on his arms, smiling at his friends with happiness. "Guys! What are you doing here?" He asked, making an adorable face when his son waves at them too, offering a thooty smile. What a polite little boy.

Huaisang almost dies at the cuteness of this little one, so he immediately goes to him, while Jiang Cheng is left to give the big news.

"Well... actually... You know. There's a room." He says, smacking himself mentally at the eyebrow that Wei WuXian gives him, and the laugh that his boyfriend barely contains inside. "There's a free. A free room. It's not being used. The room it's at my house." He... is getting somewhere, enough to enlighten Wei WuXian's eyes when he connects the dots. But Jiang Cheng it's not a patient human being, so he just sighs before a bluntly adding, "do you want it?"

Huaisang looks at him with a smile, just too amused at the spectacle to make some additions, meanwhile Wei WuXian covers his face to laugh out loud.

"What is funny?" WanYin asks, red from head to toe.

"I do want it, WanYin. Thank you..." Wei WuXian says, pulling the other man into his arms for a hug. A tight hug. "Thank you so, so, so much."

.............

#wei wuxian #wei ying #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #mdzs au #mo dao zu shi au #jiang wanyin #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #jin zixuan #jiang yanli #a-yuan #our home will be wherever we are a-yuan

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spaceskam · 3 years

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rest in my arms, sleep in my bed

Summary: Jiang Cheng goes to Qinghe before a snow storm.

Tags: post-canon, fluff, implied sexual content, morning after

ao3

Nie Huaisang was a selfish man and he was willing to admit it.

Many things he’d done in his life were born of selfish desires and he was happiest at his most selfish. His disciples seemed to understand that and seemed to be content with it, though a part of that selfishness was making sure they were good, taken care of disciples and therefore it worked in their benefit. He couldn’t risk having shitty people that he was required to trust and rely on‒that would not be happening again.

Still, that selfishness had also led to him doing exhiliratingly dumb things like dragging Sandu Shengshou into his bed. It was absolutely a dangerous prospect and could’ve very easily gotten him killed or at least a few broken bones, but Nie Huaisang apparently had caught him at a good‒or bad, depending on how you looked at it‒time and he needed someone to go a little wild on who would also pet his head and call him embarrassing pet names just to see how red he could get.

That was a while ago now, though, and they’d fallen into a nice pattern of not seeing each other for months on end and then showing up when they needed a day of pretending they weren’t sect leaders with someone who was just as fucked up and unqualified as they were. It was pretty effective and gave Nie Huaisang a large amount of time and space to wallow in self-loathing. Granted, he was pretty sure Jiang Cheng did something like that too, so they were basically fated at this point.

Last night, however, the idiot himself had flown to Qinghe and stupidly misunderstood how weather worked. Nie Huaisang’s functioning theory was that he was so angry that he didn’t feel the cold because as soon as they banged it out and he got some fucking rest for what was probably the first time in a week, he was freezing. Nie Huaisang had wrapped him up in the thickest blankets he could find and cooed at the way he burrowed into them like an adorably angry baby.

Sometime during the night it only escalated and snowed so hard Nie Huaisang was beginning to think they might have to send a quick letter to Lotus Pier to let them know their fearless and highly feared sect leader was incapacitated by way of being scared of the weather.

“Fuck this fucking white shit,” Jiang Cheng grumbled in his heap of blankets on Nie Huaisang’s bed. It was usually made by now so it was slightly annoying that it wasn’t, but he could excuse it. For today, at least. Extenuating circumstances.

“Does it not snow in Lotus Pier?” Nie Huaisang mused from where he sat cross-legged on the other side of the bed. He had ink grinded and was working his way through a painting, one of a pretty tree in the snow. Part of him wanted to paint in Jiang Cheng pouting under said tree, but he assumed that would go as well as that time he painted Da-ge smiling with a flower. “Does it not get cold?”

“It does,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding like an absolute child from inside his pile, “But not like this! This is torture. Inhumane. Wrong. Lotus Pier gets, like, windy. A bit snowy, sometimes, yes, but fuck all of this shit.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“You are not allowed to talk to me like that!” Jiang Cheng snapped, but he didn’t move from his blankets and therefore it meant nothing. Truthfully, even if he had, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Jiang Cheng was just like that. It was part of why Nie Huaisang liked him so much.

“Seriously, this is nothing. You should come when it gets too cold to snow.”

“ Too cold to snow?” Jiang Cheng repeated, absolute disbelief and horror in his voice. Nie Huaisang found himself smiling.

“Darling, you’re adorable when you don’t know things.”

“Says the Headshaker,” he grumbled.

Nie Huaisang huffed a laugh and carefully put his ink and painting on his bedside table that existed solely for a place to put nightly paintings and ink. Once it was settled, he crawled back over to the lump of blankets and draped himself over it.

“If you’re truly that cold, I can think of a few ways to warm you up,” he said. Jiang Cheng grunted in disdain because he thought he needed to be manly and Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes.

“No offense, but I’m too cold for that. I’m pretty sure my dick has climbed into my body,” he said. Nie Huaisang rolled onto the other side of the mass of blankets, sliding his hand beneath them. “If your hand is cold, I’m going to fucking‒ Fuck! Why do you feel like ice?! What is wrong with you?! Are you even human?!”

Nie Huaisang laughed and dug under the blankets more to press his cold fingers into his skin. That was another reason that he liked Jiang Cheng so much. He made him laugh. That was something he hadn’t done earnestly in well over a decade.

“ Stop, ” Jiang Cheng whined, finally letting his stupid facade drop. Nie Huaisang felt motivated by it and started to make his way into Jiang Cheng’s blanket heap. “You’re so cold, what the fuck, you’re letting the cold air in!”

“You’re a cultivator, aren’t you warm naturally? Your core is so strong, can't you just get over it?” Nie Huaisang asked, easily slipping his foot to press against the back of Jiang Cheng’s thighs. He jumped and half-assed swatting at his leg. Nie Huaisang hooked his leg around him and pulled himself in. “Here, you big baby, I’ll tuck you in.”

He took a second to seal off any passageways into the blanket heap, closing them in together. Once he settled, he got a good look at Jiang Cheng’s pouty little face in the darkness of the blankets. Somehow, he still seemed to be glowing. As much as Nie Huaisang never cared to grow his own core, he couldn’t deny that it helped create some breathtaking men. That in itself was a gift.

“Do I need to get one of my disciples to take you back to Lotus Pier?” he asked. Jiang Cheng’s eyes slowly slipped across his face and then down between them where they were pressed together, more or less. Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow and waited for him to meet his eyes again. “Well? Do I?”

“I don’t need help. ”

“Yes, but it isn’t safe to fly on your sword in this,” he pointed out, “And it definitely isn’t safe to travel on foot alone. I don’t care how known and powerful you are.”

“What,” Jiang Cheng said, voice a bit quiet, “Are you actually worried about me?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes again. “Imagine the kind of attention we’d get if you died in the middle of nowhere from exposure and the last place you’d been was the Unclean Realm. I do not want to deal with your brother or either of your nephews, thank you very much.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him, eyes still squinted like he was trying to read him. Fortunately, that was something he’d been notoriously bad at for his entire life. It was a good thing that he was pretty and strong.

“You know, you’ve gotten pretty lucky that you’ve basically got your foot in every other major sect. You’re running YunmengJiang, your nephew runs LanlingJin, your other nephew is the last living QishanWen, your brother is shacking up with an important member of GusuLan, and you’re shacking up with the man running QingheNie. Look at you, making connections by chance,” Nie Huaisang said, patting him on the chest. Jiang Cheng blinked three times in succession.

“How did you know about Lan Sizhui being a Wen?” he asked, “I didn’t tell you that and surely Wei Wuxian didn’t.”

Nie Huaisang huffed a laugh and pushed further into Jiang Cheng’s space until they were nose to nose, twirling his hair around his finger. He was so dumb and so, so cute. Nie Huaisang should've taken advantage of him when they were young.

“Darling, when will you learn I know everything?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but he didn’t push him away. Instead, his hand pressed against his back and pulled him in tightly.

“No wonder you and Wei Wuxian get on so well. You’re both know-it-all assholes,” he said.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and poked him in the chest, deciding not to comment. He and Wei Wuxian got on so well because they knew different, complementary things. But it was less that they got along and more that they could respect each other for that‒and that they both knew what the other was capable of even if they didn’t know the specifics. That was enough to keep distance.

Jiang Cheng didn’t need to know that if he didn’t already.

“Ah, would you like me to get him to come here and lead you back? I bet he’d love that,” Nie Huaisang said. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes at him all over again.

“Asshole.”

“Mm, quite.”

Jiang Cheng made a little mocking noise and paired it with his hand carefully combing back Nie Huaisang’s hair. He was sure he looked a mess with all the blankets, but he could handle that later.

“How long will it snow for?” Jiang Cheng asked.

“Alright, when I said I knew everything, I didn’t mean I could predict the weather,” Nie Huaisang scoffed. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and gently flicked the base of his spine. Chills shot all the way up to his neck. “My guess would be it’ll stop by this evening, probably.”

“Then I will stay until the morning,” Jiang Cheng decided. Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You’re just going to invite yourself to stay another night? How hospitable of you, Jiang Wanyin,” he said. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and then gripped him a bit tighter before rolling him onto his back and placing himself on top of him. Nie Huaisang gave a mocking, “Stop it, you’ll let the cold air in!”

“Didn’t you offer to warm me up earlier? Has that offer been retracted?” he asked, lowering himself down until Nie Huaisang could feel his breath on his lips.

“Of course not, I have no intention to let my guest suffer.”

“Asshole,” Jiang Cheng said, but his voice was soft and he was smiling.

“Baby,” Nie Huaisang accused right back, but he was grinning all the same.

Jiang Cheng kissed him then, a way to silence him and a way to get warm all the same. And he would be staying another night, officially the longest they’d spent time together since this whole tryst began.

And perhaps Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be able to wait another handful of months before doing this again.

#sangcheng #sangcheng fic #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #the untamed #mdzs #my fic

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presumenothing · 3 years

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we’re doing it to ourselves (or so the saying goes)

(AO3)

Jiang Cheng swears up a storm and a half when he shoves open the investigation room door the next morning to find someone already there.

The red ribbon hanging long down Wei Wuxian’s back blends in so seamlessly with the red thread strung all over the murderboard that it takes slamming his hand against the wall switch to shatter the sudden imagination of his brother’s photo up there with the rest of the clues, just another person they’d failed to save from this case.

Wei Wuxian gives a hiss of half-startled annoyance, blinking from the abrupt brightness, but it frankly serves him right for standing in the dark like a burglar with only the corridor emergency lights filtering in. Had he even been able to see anything? Even demonic cultivation doesn’t give you night vision, last he checked. “Good damn morning to you too, Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you got in here,” he replies, because at least half of what he knows about breaking into places he’d learned after Wei Wuxian taught himself how to one boring rainy day in high school. “Tell me all this has nothing to do with you.”

He doesn’t specify what this is, because there’s no need to. Wei Wuxian hasn’t moved from his frozen stance in front of the board of clues, crimson lines running between the serial murders like a bloody taunt, a web Jiang Cheng has stared at long enough over the past week that the afterimage feels burned into his eyelids.

There’s nothing of Wei Wuxian’s usual brash overconfidence in the answering shake of his head. “No. I meant it when I said I’d never go vigilante again, Jiang Cheng. And I haven’t. I’ll swear it again on anything you ask.”

In a different time, Wei Wuxian would already have sworn up and down that the heavens should strike him down right then if he’d lied, but maybe that’s exactly the problem – he had already been struck down once, in almost every way that mattered, and worst of all is how it makes Jiang Cheng more inclined to believe him now.

It’s still not quite enough, though. “Swear it on Jin Ling’s life.”

He doesn’t need to see Wei Wuxian’s expression to know he’s not happy about that. Which doesn’t matter, because neither of them are; the space Jin Ling occupies among them has been almost sacred especially after they’d nearly lost Yanli-jie, but it’s also exactly why Jiang Cheng is asking him to swear on this. He can’t accept anything less.

Wei Wuxian has to know that, too, because he doesn’t argue, only says, “I swear on Jin Ling’s life that I don’t have any direct involvement with this case.”

Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow and pointedly does not look relieved. “‘Direct’?”

“Duh.” Wei Wuxian gestures, wide and too-careless, at the grotesque web on the wall. “You’ve got a copycat killer, and a surprisingly thorough one at that. I’d be surprised if the original Yiling Patriarch isn’t tied to this somehow.”

“Careful, they might not be able to see your ego from space,” Jiang Cheng bites right back, even though he’s been thinking the same for probably about as long as Lan Wangji has, for all that they hadn’t acknowledged it aloud until the day before yesterday. “How the hell did you even find out about this?”

“Wen Qing did most of the autopsies, didn’t she?” Wei Wuxian answers, pretty much as he’d been expecting. “And before you think about going to yell at her, she didn’t actually reveal any case details to me, just that you and Lan Zhan were investigating something that I might be interested in. Also that she might snap and add one or both of you to the body count if she has to mediate even one more argument between you two.”

How Wei Wuxian’s presence could possibly do anything except exacerbate that, Jiang Cheng has no idea, but it’s not like he can afford to alienate the best medical examiner they have across all the districts. (And he doesn’t want to, either; Wen Qing’s clear expertise had single-handedly silenced all of the brass who’d had issues with hiring a Wen, but there’s never any telling what might get them started up again.)

Still. “I wouldn’t call that mediating,” Jiang Cheng mutters.

Wei Wuxian laughs, because he still doesn’t have even half an ounce of self-preservation, even against someone who could and would immobilise people with just three well-placed needles. “Speaking of which, how much longer are you gonna lurk there, Lan Zhan? I thought the Gusu bureau had a rule against eavesdropping and all.”

Jiang Cheng gets a crick in his neck from how fast he turns, and sure enough – there’s Lan Wangji stepping out of shadows that had hidden him far too well for someone in so much white. (Even after having no choice but to work this case together with him Jiang Cheng still has absolutely no fucking idea how Lan Wangji keeps his clothes spotless even at crime scenes; he’s starting to suspect it’s some kind of cultivation-related trick designed specifically for this purpose.)

“Eavesdropping would require neither of you to be aware of my presence,” he says, like that isn’t just some bit of pedantry, and inclines his head. “Wei Ying. Jiang Wanyin.”

And that’s definitely intentional, putting his name last like Jiang Cheng cares what order Lan Wangji addresses people in. Which he really, really doesn’t, especially not before inhaling at least half the thermos of coffee that always resides in his backpack in avoidance of the acidic slop from the pantry machine.

Wei Wuxian smiles at Lan Wangji, because of course he does, but it’s strangely gratifying to note that he hasn’t put any effort in making it look convincing at all. “Well, Lan Zhan – do I need to swear my innocence in this case to you too?”

“Unnecessary. I believe you,” Lan Wangji says, bearing regal like he’s some monarch issuing a decree, and Jiang Cheng snorts. How easy for him to say that when Wei Wuxian hadn’t cost his bureau and family almost everything they’d been.

It doesn’t make the back of his throat taste any less bitter when Wei Wuxian’s expression warms a little at that, but at this point Jiang Cheng doesn’t think anything ever will. “Enough chitchat,” he snaps. “The paperwork?”

Lan Wangji retrieves a folder from his briefcase and slides it over to the centre of the table wordlessly, while Jiang Cheng crosses his arms and scowls at Wei Wuxian until it sinks through his stupidly thick skull that the paperwork is for him.

The answering groan, at least, is entirely sincere. “What the hell is that for? You know I hate paperwork, Jiang Cheng, I didn’t quit over it but I very well could have.”

Yes, he’s very aware of that, seeing as their weekly paperwork grudge-match marathons from before everything had gone to hell had been held in his office. “Just read and sign the damn thing, Wei Wuxian, it’s the only bloody reason I haven’t already arrested you for breaking into bureau offices ten minutes ago.”

And that has to be enough for Wei Wuxian to already know, because bureau policy hasn’t changed that much in the years since his defection except to get more annoyingly onerous, but still he looks surprised at the contents of the contract. “A civilian consultant?”

“You have a skillset that could be invaluable to resolving this case. It would be highly remiss not to bring you on board.” Lan Wangji still looks perfectly neutral, as far as Jiang Cheng can tell, but that’s more sarcasm-free words in a row than he’s ever heard from him since the start of this investigation. Possibly since their first acquaintance with each other.

“I wouldn’t call ‘being the prime suspect’ a skillset, exactly,” Wei Wuxian mutters, which is something Jiang Cheng can definitely agree with at least. Though the only reason this is possible at all is because there’d never been an official conviction in the original Yiling case, for a whole chaos of reasons including the public uproar in support of whoever had taken down Wen Ruohan and his cronies for good, and because they already had reasonable evidence to suggest Wei Wuxian’s non-involvement in this spate of murders.

The non-suspect in question is still flicking his way through the clauses of the contract, which Jiang Cheng would feel insulted by except he’d also gone through each and every one just as closely, taken his concerns to Yanli-jie who’d taken them to Jin Zixuan until they could be sure this arrangement wouldn’t jeopardise Wei Wuxian in any way.

He reaches the last page, and from the skip of his gaze Jiang Cheng knows instinctively what Wei Wuxian has to be looking at – the grid of signatures starting with his own and Lan Wangji’s as primary investigators of the case, dated clearly to two days before this conversation had even occurred, followed by Lan Xichen’s confirmation both as Lan Wangji’s superior and because Jiang Cheng can’t very well second his own recommendation even as the Yunmeng bureau chief, and finally a space for Wei Wuxian’s chickenscratch initials.

(It’s frankly mystifying, why someone who can draw talismans that flow like the finest art has never bothered with a more elegant signature, but it’s not a mystery Jiang Cheng cares to solve. Better that than the unmistakable signatures the Yiling Patriarch had left at his scenes, at any rate; even he has had nightmares about that.)

Jiang Cheng tosses him a pen, anything to break the sudden silence, and Wei Wuxian catches it without looking but of course doesn’t get right to signing, because that would be sensible. “What is this for, then? There are easier ways to keep an eye on me. Cheaper, too.”

“The forensic evidence is scant, and the culprit has done something to keep the victims’ souls beyond my ability to communicate with,” Lan Wangji answers without further prompting, which is probably more information than they should be giving out to a not-yet-contracted civilian but Jiang Cheng’s not the one with a stick up his ass about protocol in this room and anyway Wei Wuxian had already broken in here. “An alternative method might help.”

“Last I checked, no one likes the alternative when it means resurrecting th– ah,” Wei Wuxian cuts himself off with a flick of his gaze between them, and has the gall to look amused. “So the old coots are desperate enough by now that anything goes?”

“Not anything,” Jiang Cheng grates out, just to be clear. Wei Wuxian hadn’t been wrong; the investigation methods favoured by each bureau differ even just among the four major ones, but the dislike of the way Wei Wuxian had done things since somehow escaping being taken hostage by Wen Chao had been almost universal.

(There’d been a brief period when it seemed like things might work out after all, when Wei Wuxian had demonstrated how undeniably efficient demonic cultivation could be in comparison to their regular methods – even the Gusu musical techniques couldn’t beat speaking to the victim in the flesh, as it were. But then everything had gone to hell in a massive speeding handbasket and Wei Wuxian had been most of the one who’d sent it there.

Possibly Jiang Cheng is being monumentally idiotic in not assuming this time will turn out exactly the same way, but annoyingly enough Wei Wuxian is also correct in that they need this case solved, or everything might just go to chaos anyway.)

“I’m pretty much the definition of anything, I think,” Wei Wuxian retorts, which Jiang Cheng ignores like the obvious nonsense it is. “Don’t blame me if you lot regret this.”

“Pretty sure it’s already too late for that,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, swiping the thermos out from where he’d set his backpack down.

Lan Wangji can deal with filing that paperwork, if he’s just going to stand there in stoic satisfaction. Jiang Cheng needs his damn coffee.

#mdzs #mdzs fic #fanfiction #mine #long post #once again i blatantly plagiarise richard siken for a fic title #yes this was supposed to be the sort-of-pushing daisies au but things happened #/elaborate and unbothered shrug emoji

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: Friends with Tax Benefits

Characters: Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Yanli, Yu Ziyuan, Jiang Fengmian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji

Additional Tags: Family Dinners, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Announcements, Therapy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

Summary: This started because of a Discord joke, then I made a Tumblr post, then @bichen-suibian wrote “Friends with Tax Benefits,” and this is the follow up in which Wei Ying tells his family.

AO3 link

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“You proposed,” Madam Yu said, her voice devoid of emotion, “over taxes.”

Wei Ying managed not to flinch in anticipation of imminent yelling, nodding to cover any accidental movement.

He hadn’t been looking forward to telling his adoptive family. He’d caused them enough trouble, with his very existence threatening Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang’s marriage, and had moved out as soon as he turned eighteen in the hopes that what he had broken could be mended through his absence.

Even though there was a standing family dinner every Sunday, he hadn’t attended since he’d moved out. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he showed up with Lan Zhan out of the blue, having only really talked with his siblings in all these years, but he absolutely hadn’t expected that they’d have a place set at the table for him like they expected him to attend, or that they’d quickly set another place beside him for Lan Zhan.

If anything, it made him more anxious.

“Yep! I kind of borrowed his W2 to see what our taxes would look like if we were married and said we should get married, and he said ‘yes’ so fast, but then he was embarrassed.”

He knew he was babbling, a ball of nervous energy, though thankfully he’d gotten through the I-might-puke stage of it. Now he had nothing in his stomach, having not touched anything on his plate yet, so it was safe.

Lan Zhan squeezed his hand in silent support under the dinner table.

“So he had to be embarrassed for a reason, right? So I told him how I felt and, well… I’d already proposed, so I should take responsibility!”

He could see Lan Zhan’s ears turn red, the only indication that Wei Ying’s retelling had flustered him. He loved seeing the signs that everyone else missed, thinking Lan Zhan was unflappable.

Madam Yu let out a long sigh, her fingers twitching, and Wei Ying braced himself.

“Well, we all lost the pool.”

Wei Ying blinked. That… was not what he expected her to say.

“A-Li bet on last year. The rest of us figured you’d take at least another year.”

“I bet on you never getting your head out of your ass,” Jiang Cheng added helpfully. “I figured one of us would have to put you out of our misery and matchmake you.”

Uncle Jiang smiled fondly.

“None of us thought you’d jump straight to marriage, of course.”

“And over taxes!” Madam Yu muttered with a snort. “Guess the pool will go toward the wedding.”

“Congratulations,” Jiang Yanli said, looking thrilled. “I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. The way you talked about him, we’ve all known since you were thirteen.”

Wei Ying couldn’t think, could only stare at them uncomprehendingly. Had they even bet on how they would get together?

“You… bet on this?” he finally managed. “You’re not mad?”

Madam Yu sighed again, and exchanged looks with Uncle Jiang.

“I’ve been in therapy, with your uncle, as a prerequisite for meeting A-Li’s future children. I was, by unanimous vote, a terrible mother. And I treated you horribly enough that she didn’t want to inflict trauma on the next generation. I drove you away with my treatment of you, and it was inexcusable.”

He could only stare, open mouthed. She rolled her eyes.

“Really, you’re going to wind up eating a bug doing that, A-Ying.”

Calling him affectionately, even?

Wei Ying glanced at Lan Zhan, silently asking him if this was some sort of dream. His fiancé, being himself, assured him it wasn’t with a pinch on his thigh.

“Oh,” he said hoarsely.

“No apology is enough,” she continued. “We would have reached out, but our therapist thought it might trigger your trauma, and suggested we wait for you to be ready. I hope you’ll resume coming to family dinners, with your fiancé, of course.”

“And A-Cheng and I have wedding ideas!” Jiang Yanli said, standing to ladle more soup into his bowl despite her growing baby bump and the fact that he hadn’t yet touched it.

“Lan Xichen lost the pool, too, but he also has ideas. We’ve only been planning since high school,” Jiang Cheng muttered, stealing a pork rib from Wei Ying’s bowl.

“It will need to be at least as beautiful as A-Li’s wedding,” Uncle Jiang said.

“Absolutely,” Madam Yu agreed. “Nothing less will do.”

A sort of warmth spread through him, the kind that sent tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, as he realized this really wasn’t a dream, that somehow they still wanted him to be a part of their family, even though he’d broken it.

It would take him much longer to realize he hadn’t broken it at all, but tonight was a start.

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sheadre · 3 years

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Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part Five

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word Count: 3076

Warnings: fluff, romance, blood and violence, idiots in love

Previous Chapter - Series Masterlist

Preparations for the arriving attack were made and now you waited nervously for everything to play into completion. The calm mask you wore usually was nowhere to be seen, it was replaced with a deep frown on your delicate face. Jiang Wanyin haven’t said anything ever since you showed him your curse but did not treat you differently. It felt like he accepted that as a fact about you and that was that. The dark dragon’s powers provided you with the ability to use resentful energy for cultivation. It was a legend, a myth circling around the kingdom since decades. Your mother used to tell tales about the mighty dark dragon who protected the kingdom from the northern tribes’ attacks.

You remembered when you begged the Heavens to give you enough power to bring peace to the kingdom and stop your cousin and uncle in destroying it completely. That night was quiet when you decided to spend three nights and days praying in the temple. The last night was the hardest as you knelt there without eating or drinking anything. Your lips were chapped and dry, your bones hurting and your skin prickling with how long it’s been since you last washed your face properly. Your eyes kept drooping as you knelt, murmuring prayers to the heavens. Suddenly, the candles at the altar were blown out by the strong wind hitting you as well and knocking you off balance as you knelt. Tears that stayed unshed now rolled down your cheeks and you quickly wiped at them as you tried to get your bearings back. Suddenly, a hand reached out for your hand. A white, pale hand with slender fingers, a white sleeve ending at the wrist of the person standing in front of you. You looked up in surprise as the person seemed to almost glow. You were greeted with a handsome young man smiling softly at you. His face looked so feminine that you could’ve mistaken him as a woman if he would wear a nice hanfu and some make-up.

“I heard your prayers, your highness” he spoke softly, kindness radiating from his heavenly presence. His voice was gentle like velvet, caressing your ears with every word he spoke.

“W-Who are you?” you asked confused. “How did you get in the palace?”

“I am Xie Lian, your highness, I came in behalf of the Heaven’s Court” he explained patiently. You accepted his hand to help you up but pulled your hand back once you were standing on your feet.

“Why?” you asked again even more confused. Why was a heaven official here and what did he want? You prayed for inner power to defeat the evil, confidence in yourself and strength to move forward even when you’re knocked down. You were so confused, you didn’t even question if he was some lunatic or was talking the truth.

“You prayed for it yourself” another male’s voice scoffed from the side. Your head whipped to the figure who was leaning against a pillar lazily. He was dressed in red clothes, his hair let down freely and a black eyepatch hiding one of his eyes. His presence felt… dark.

“You wished for powers to protect the weak and I was sent to grant your wish” Xie Lian smiled at you gently. You took a step back unbelieving of what was happening. How could you be worthy of the heaven’s attention like this? You wanted will power, not real power. Seeing the frightened expression on your face, Xie Lian took a step closer and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “The Heavenly Emperor sent me himself and he has a good reason to do so.”

“What reason?” you asked curious. Imagining heaven to have no snakes in the court would’ve been a careless thought, outright stupidity but while people live on the earth, they only care about their petty lives. Xie Lian smiled uneasily and sighed.

“That is unfortunately-“

“You’ll realize how shitty is the afterlife, princess, once you pass on” the other man huffed his handsome face in a scowl interrupting the man dressed in white. You narrowed your eyes at him, eyebrows furrowed but only rolled your eyes in the end at how he was speaking.

“San Lang! Do not be rude to the princess!” the official scolded the red clothed man.

“It does not matter, I have been through worse…” you sighed heavily, tired of everything. You had no energy left as you have been feeling agitated these last few months. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t get everything back to the way they were. It seemed like everything was trying to bring you down. “What do I have to do?”

“Are you this willing to accept such a curse?!” San Lang huffed in disbelief, his eyebrow raising on his forehead high. His chuckle was both mocking and disbelieving as he shook his head. You smiled at him sadly and nodded.

“I may end up in a bad situation but I am ready to protect those who I care about” you said, your heart thumping hard in your chest with determination. You were ready, no matter what you had to do. You had nothing else to lose, your life was not a big prize in exchange of the lives of thousands. “The evil my uncle and cousin are trying to bring onto the kingdom needs to be stopped.”

“Close your eyes, your highness” Xie Lian said and you obliged. You felt the tip of his index finger press against your forehead in the middle before you felt energy surge into your body. You distinctly heard his voice murmur words but everything was a blur. The next time you opened your eyes and everything seemed normal was the next morning. You were woken up by Lili who ushered you back to your quarters while most of the palace was still asleep.

A hand on your shoulder made you jump with a start, surprising you out of your memories. You looked up to see Wei Wuxian look at you confused and worried. His dark eyebrows drawn together as his lips parted to say something in case you wouldn’t recognize him. Your lips pulled into a smile as you motioned for him to join you at the small table by the lake you chose to spend your breakfast at.

“Wei gongzi” you greeted. “Would you like some tea? Or… wine?” you pulled out a small bottle of Emperor’s Smile from your sleeve looking around. “Jiang sect leader forbid everyone from drinking in Yunmeng. But I asked Lili to stash away one for me.”

“Sometimes I do wonder if you’re truly a princess, your highness” Wei Ying chuckled as he accepted the bottle. “Have your highness left all manners of a lady behind in the palace?”

“Sometimes we have to leave manners when it comes to business” you winked at him before both of you let out a mirthful laugh. It was easy being around him, Wei Wuxian was nice and kindhearted even if he tended to hide his concern or pain behind indifference or jokes.

“What kind of business, your highness? Are you implying about asking for my brother’s hand in marriage?” he raised one of his eyebrows playfully. “His heart is already yours, your highness.”

“We always talk about me asking Jiang Wanyin’s hand but shouldn’t he be the one to ask for mine?” you sighed with a sad smile. For the first time in a while, you admitted to someone that you truly cared for the sect leader. Wei Wuxian’s eyes looked at you with curiosity.

“But would you?” his head was tilted to the side. “If his stubborn ass refuses to?”

“That is much more complicated than just a proposal, Wei Ying” you shook your head. “I’m a fugitive, sent into exile, a princess out of the emperor’s favors. Besides… I’m not sure I will live long enough to become a good wife.”

“In the end the only thing that matters is what you feel” the Yiling Patriarch smiled at you with a pain in his brown eyes you were familiar with. “Look at me and Lan Zhan, your highness. Even if I became the villain so others could live peacefully, even if I sacrificed everything, I ended up with the one I was meant to be with.”

“It is still not the same” you chuckled sadly. “Especially because it’s not a hundred percent sure that someone will resurrect me after I die.”

“Who knows?” he grinned at you and lifted his cup before downing its contents. “If you have a good enough reputation?”

Later ~

Dark clouds gathered up above Yunmeng when a disciple ran back through the gates with caution and urgency. He reported seeing the soon arriving army of the three generals. You chewed on your lip with your heart beating fast in your chest. Lili was still away and you had no idea if she managed to get a word with Xiao Pei.

Yunmeng alone wasn’t enough to defend the kingdom and stop the generals. The wait was excruciating as you stood with Jiang Wanyin in the main garden. Both of you were tense as the overwhelming silence stretched between you. It was similar to when you awaited the next showdown between you and your cousin. A sizzling, tight tension that could blow up in a second. Though this time you were standing on the same side with this man.

“Wanyin” you spoke up suddenly. Calling him by his name was not uncommon from you and it always drew his attention to you. Oh, how you loved it when his brown eyes found your form. You stepped closer to him when he turned to you with a frown on his handsome face. “If we survive this… you can ask anything of me. I will do as you say for I am already in debt to you. You’ve given me much help already and I want to express my gratitude.”

“Anything? Are you sure?” his lips pulled into a small almost invisible smile. “I ask you to stay alive. You have much to accomplish on this world, besides… who could beat a dragon, your highness?”

“It is a curse, A-Cheng” you scolded playfully. “Though, I have to admit you have a point. It would be much more easier if I could just scorch the enemy to death with my breath, no?”

You saw the excitement and childlike glee in his eyes at that idea making you laugh mirthfully. You’ve never been so smitten with another person like this. Wanyin was fascinating in every sense for you and you couldn’t help but want to explore all of his buttons by pushing them as far as you could.

“You’d like to see that, don’t you, A-Cheng?” you chuckled making his face grow red as he crossed his arms in front of his chest huffing in embarrassment.

“Just follow our plans, your highness and nothing will go wrong” Wanyin huffed impatiently making you smile fondly. His light blush covering his cheeks told you how embarrassed he was in your presence. Up until you revealed your true nature, Wanyin was struggling to figure out a good plan of attack, his only plans were of defense. Telling him about the full extent of your powers made him let you change some of the battle plans. As you looked at him, your heart started aching knowing that even if he accepted you for who you became, you could still not give him what both you and him wanted. You knew you were soulmates but this lifetime, you were fated to not have an ending together.

Your ears picked up the sound of drums and the marching of soldiers making your heart thump harder against your ribcage. Both of you unsheathed your swords, bodies tense, ready to attack any minute. The enemy soon appeared at the gates Yunmeng Jiang disciples trying to fight them back. Running through the gates, you were soon faced with the first attackers. They were wearing silver armor, crying out to urge themselves into battle while lifting their swords high. Dancing through the onslaught of soldiers was easy, cutting them fatally with every step. Blood splattered on your face and clothes as you moved forward. You were aware of how far you’ve broke into their forces, a lone flower in the sea of weed. Most of the soldiers just went forward without really noticing you unless you were right in front of them. You glanced back at Wanyin when you had a moment to gasp a breath of air in without anyone attacking you.

He nodded at you from afar signaling for you to make your next move. Sheathing your sword, you quickly raised a dark black fog as wide as you could around your form. It was one of your abilities, the HeiWu 黑雾 was one of your favorite tricks. It was harmless but made the enemy blind as long as they were surrounded by the fog. You watched the soldiers of the enemy lose their sense of direction and walk around aimlessly, their faces shocked and terrified. You didn’t need to do anything because the moment they noticed someone get close to them, they cut down their own comrades. Leaving them to kill each other, you walked out of the fog to see Jiang Wanyin still struggling to keep the enemy back. There were many casualties on both sides and a sense of regret filled your heart. So many lives lost to a handful of people’s power hunger. Taking out your erhu, you started playing E’meng keeping a bunch of soldiers behind an invisible wall. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched them hold their heads in agony from the notes of your song. Fortunately, the song’s effect was only strong enough to make them pass out.

You suddenly heard battle drums play out a new rhythm and a new wave of soldiers ran out from the enemy’s side. Your eyes widened knowing that they were too close or rather you were too close to the enemy. You wouldn’t have time to retreat back to your side. You were about to start a new song when you were pierced through the chest with an arrow. You blinked a few times in shock until the pain registered in your senses. You lifted a hand to the bleeding wound, your fingers painted with your blood. Before you could do anything, you were yanked backward, strong arms circling your torso, pulling you into a firm chest. The smell of magnolias and the imperial court’s luxurious oolong tea – that was specifically made for only the royal family – filled your nostrils.

“Xiao Pei” you mumbled surprised as you clutched onto your old friend while he held you. He was flying through the sky back to Jiang Wanyin but his hold on you was stable. His handsome face turned to you and a small smile graced his features as he looked back at you.

“I am here, Ran’En” he replied.

Jiang Cheng’s PoV.

The sect leader panted heavily as he slashed down another soldier charging towards him. Using Zidian helped him to thin the lines of the enemy. General Zhou, Li and Huang was attacking relentlessly. He was doubting those three really thought over what they were starting with a rebellion. Overthrowing the power of the emperor was not an easy feat, especially if they were doing it so openly by marching through the kingdom.

They were out of time, the enemy’s lines seemed to be never ending, soldiers swarming the place. Blood was staining the lotus pods’ water while dead bodies littered the courtyard. Yunmeng’s forces were pushed back that they were now trying to defend the walls and gates. He remembered the day the Wen sect massacred his family. Seeing his parents’ bloodied motionless bodies lying in front of Wen Chao’s feet. His hand clenched around the handle of Sandu as he gritted his teeth. The only difference between the past and the present was the fact that he was the one massacring an army that attacked Yunmeng.

“Jiang Cheng” Wei Wuxian pointed in front of him with furrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips. Wanyin couldn’t determine if his brother was truly this stupid or just fooling around. They were in the middle of a battle and Wei Wuxian decided to point at the sky. He reluctantly looked up to see a man dressed in exquisite clothes fly through the sky with a woman in his arms. It took him a moment to realize who that woman was. He took a deep breath at seeing that she was safely back but cursed himself for letting her in on the planning. He never liked her idea of going into the enemy’s lines so far but her reasoning eased him into the idea.

The man dressed so expensively landed a few feet away from them. The princess pushed away from him and tried to stand on her feet but was clearly not able to. Wanyin looked at the woman in shock when he saw the arrow piercing through her chest. Everyone stood in shock as she fell to the ground coughing up blood. Wei Wuxian was the first to gain his bearings back and hurry over to help her.

“Ran’En!” the unfamiliar man’s voice thundered as she lied there. Wanyin turned to the newcomer who was wearing clothes from fine fabric showing how high in rank he was. The man crouched down to the princess and took her in his arms, lifting her up easily again. Wanyin had to admit, the stranger was handsome, an ethereal divine being from a fantasy novel. Thump. His heart clenched uneasily as he watched the man hold the princess in his arms like she was the most precious thing in the world. He couldn’t stand seeing the princess being so close to that man and Wanyin struggled to find an answer to why.

“Xiao Pei… Thank you for coming” the princess said weakly as blood dripped down her chin.

“Say no more, Ran’En” the man, Xiao Pei shushed her gently before turning to Wei Wuxian. “Get a healer! Now!”

Wanyin just stared at the two of them without his brain processing much of what was happening around him. He was the reason the princess was in that condition. He should’ve helped her, not nearly sacrifice her!

To be continued…

#jiang cheng x reader #jiang cheng #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan wangji x wei wuxian #wangxian #romance #fluff #idiots in love

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angelrider13 · 3 years

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A Sea of Lotus Flowers: Leviathan Extra

I finally finished it!!!

So I meant to have this up before the holidays were over - obviously that didn’t happen - and then real life hit that crazy post-holiday rush and I didn’t have the spoons to finish this out, but it is done!!!!

Admittedly, I got a little carried away with this one. I started and was like ‘it’ll be a short oneshot, maybe ~2,000 words. Well here we are, 12,482 words later.

This is a reply to @hamelin-born‘s reply to my post from a while back (I’m sorry it took so long!!!!) and I saw your post the other day about needing a pick me up, so I hope this makes your day better. Technically not canon in this verse - it’s 100% indulgent and I had fun with it and I guess it could be canon if you want it to be.

A little clunky in some places because I didn’t edit this and I kinda half-assed proofreading so forgive me any errors!!!

Lan Wangji resists the urge to step between Wei Ying and Jiang Wanyin as they argue. He’s come to understand that arguing is largely how these two communicate, but that does nothing to change the fact that his hand twitches toward his sword every time Jiang Wanyin says something biting or Wei Ying flinches.

He’s been lectured by multiple people, both subtly and blatantly, that their relationship has nothing to do with him. As a third party, it is not his right to interfere. He may advise and support, but he has no say in whether or not the relationship exists. He is, contrary to what these people lecturing him seem to think, aware of this. If Wei Ying wishes to have a relationship with the man he still considers his brother, then who is Lan Wangji to stop him?

He would never.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to allow Wei Ying to face the man alone.

Despite Wei Ying’s many assurances, he does not trust Jiang Wanyin with Wei Ying. Jiang Wanyin cast him aside before, hurt him before, and Lan Wangji has seen no evidence that he would not be willing to do so again.

So he watches.

It helps that their reason for being here this time is the Discussion Conference. It means they are less likely to be thrown into the lake – though he knows that such a small reason will not even register to Madame Jiang. Still, it means that Jiang Wanyin doesn’t have the authority to throw him out should something happen. As much as he detests political maneuvering, he will concede that sometimes it has its uses.

Wei Ying is punching Jiang Wanyin’s arm as he laughs. Lan Wangji can’t stop his twitch when Jiang Wanyin shoves him in turn, scowling as he opens his mouth to say something Lan Wangji is sure he will disagree with on principle when the Sect Leader’s eyes catch on something over Wei Ying’s shoulder. His face shades through confusion to alarm to horror in the span of a second before he’s shoving past them.

Wei Ying blinks, turning after him, “Hey, Jiang Chen – ”

But he cuts off, eyes widening as he sucks in a sharp breath and Lan Wangji turns just in time to see Lan Yun shoving a glowing array against Madame Jiang’s chest.

There’s a single moment where everything is completely still.

And then Madame Jiang drops like a stone.

The world explodes into motion.

Jaing Wanyin is screaming, Lan Yun looks stunned, and Madame Jiang is so horrifically still where she lays collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“What did you do?!” Jiang Wanyin roars as Jiang disciples converge on Lan Yun.

“I – I didn’t – it wasn’t – ” Lan Yun stutters out as his arms are grabbed and his swords taken. “It wasn’t supposed to do that!”

“And what was it supposed to do?” Sect Leader Jiang grits out.

“It was just supposed to reveal the truth!” Lan Yun blurts out when the disciples holding him wrench his arms back, violent glints in their eyes and mouths pressed into grim lines.

“The truth?! What about this looks like the fucking truth to you?!” Jiang Wanyin yells, Zidian sparking furiously up his entire arm.

He looks like he could go on, but Madame Jiang’s body suddenly twitches before it starts convulsing.

Lan Wangji only has a second to register the building energy before he’s moving, intercepting Wei Ying from running towards his brother and wrapping his husband up in his arms just as the energy explodes outwards in a wave that nearly bowls him over. He manages to turn so that his body is shielding Wei Ying’s, but there is nothing he can do but ride the wave out. He’s distantly aware of Wei Ying screaming his name, but he just tightens his hold.

The energy is vast. Deeper and richer and far, far larger than any reserve of energy – spiritual or demonic – Lan Wangji has ever felt. It is as if someone cracked open an egg and an entire ocean spilled out, flooding the entirety of Lotus Pier in a matter of seconds and drowning all of them under the sheer weight of its might.

Just when Lan Wangji thinks he can endure no more, he feels the wave of energy pull back, condensing inwards and shooting towards the sky. The crushing pressure on his lungs releases and he drags in a ragged breath, Wei Ying gasping in his arms.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes, hands frantic as they check him over, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

Wei Ying huffs at him. “Don’t do that, Lan Zhan. I’m fine, you know! But what was that? What –?”

Lan Wangji watches as all the color drains from his husband’s face and his voice comes to a strangled halt. Worried, he follows Wei Ying’s gaze. And promptly feels his heart drop into his stomach. Lan Wangji is well aware that he has seen many impossible things in his lifetime, even for a cultivator. At this point, such a thing is not unexpected.

That does not mean he is in any way, shape, or form prepared to be facing a dragon suddenly in the center of Lotus Pier.

Its body is long and sleek, scales a deep, rippling blue, with fins and spines flaring out around it’s towering form. Molten gold eyes stare down at them – eyes that Lan Wangji has seen hundreds of times before today, eyes that he has never thought twice about meeting, eyes so familiar they make his heart move up to his mouth.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers, “You see it too right? You see the dragon?”

“Mn,” he manages, throat too tight for anything else.

“Oh, okay then,” Wei Ying wheezes faintly, “Does this mean I’m not crazy? Or are you also crazy? And I just want it on record that this is absolutely not my fault.”

“You dare?” Madame Jiang breathes out, voice a deep, rumbling growl, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth as her burning gaze finds Lan Yun below her.

The man is paler than Lan Wangji has ever seen him. He hadn’t known it was possible for a living person to be that color. But Lan Wangji cannot find it in himself to feel any remorse for him – not even pity. A senior disciple of the Lan should know better.

“You idiotic little fool,” she snarls, fury practically dripping from her voice even though she’s holding herself oddly still, “Were I any less than I am, you would have killed every person here. All of Lotus Pier, every cultivator here for the conference, every civilian in town. Every. Single. Person. All those lives. And for what? So you could win an argument?”

Lan Yun seems incapable of speech, mouth flapping uselessly, before he seems to give up, collapsing into the arms of the Jiang disciples that are still restraining him despite the wave of energy that had been crushing them only moments before.

Madame Jiang sneers, disgust obvious. “I don’t expect any better from you Lan at this point, but this?”

She throws her head back in distain and Lan Wangji can’t even summon the usual offence that her open contempt of his sect would bring. Not when a member of said sect just tried to kill her within her own home – or not kill, so much as…reveal, he thinks, Lan Yun’s words echoing in his head.

It was just supposed to reveal the truth!

Lan Wangji looks up at the dragon towering above them and suddenly feels so very small.

“Hairong?”

He turns to see Sect Leader Jiang looking up at the dragon, concerned, but not surprised. In fact, none of the Jiang disciples seem surprised. Shaken, perhaps, but not shocked by this turn of events. Did she tell them? Did the Jiang Sect know that they were harboring a dragon this entire time? It would explain their deference to her despite her disrespectful behavior. Though, if this is in fact Madame Jiang’s true form, then perhaps it was not really disrespect at all. Lan Wangji cannot imagine having the gall to demand a dragon of all beings bow to him just because propriety dictated it.

Madame Jiang shifts to look down at them. “Little Lotus,” she replies, her voice gentling, “This is unexpected, but not…unwelcome, despite the circumstances. It has been a very long time since I wore my scales.”

Jiang Wanyin’s eyes narrow. “Can you change back?”

There’s a pause as Madame Jiang seems to consider this, head tilting to the side. “No,” she says after a moment, “I am as trapped in this form as I was in the other.”

Jiang Wanyin scowls, turning back to the disciples holding Lan Yun, who appears to have passed out. “Find out what he did,” he orders, “Figure out how to reverse it.”

The disciples bow as best they can while holding an unconscious person between them before dragging him off. Lan Wangji makes no move to stop them. None of the Lan do, not even Uncle.

“In the meantime,” Madame Jiang drawls, “I’m certain that the Lan will be more than happy to pay for the damages Lotus Pier has incurred from this little incident.”

Ah, Lan Wangji thinks as he follows the length of her body and sees the broken buildings, buckling under the sudden weight of an entire dragon atop them.

“And, of course,” she continues, “There will be reparations for any injuries sustained as a result of the Lan’s carelessness.”

The implied or else is so heavy in her tone, it is like a physical weight.

“Oh, they will,” Sect Leader Jiang agrees darkly, glaring at any and all Lan cultivators within his line of sight.

“Da-jie doesn’t need to be here for that though, does she?” Sect Leader Nie suddenly cuts in, fan fluttering in front of his face. His eyes are shrewd despite the tentative levity in his tone. He has been acting the part of the useless headshaker less and less these days, but it’s still rather difficult to get anything of substance out of him. “She should go for a swim.”

Madame Jiang chuckles. “What a splendid idea, my little hunter. A swim sounds lovely,” she says. Rather than make to leave, however, she carefully folds in on herself so that she can lower her head without shifting her body. “Will you be terribly upset if I leave you to deal with the mess?”

Jiang Wanyin huffs, reaching up to place a hand against the line of her jaw, seemingly lowered for the sole purpose of being within the Sect Leader’s reach. As if the action of touching a dragon is something simple and easy and common. Though, Lan Wangji supposes, given the way Madame Jiang has a tendency to drape herself over people she likes, perhaps it really is that easy.

“I always deal with the mess,” Jiang Wanyin retorts.

“That’s not true,” Madame Jiang pouts. Pouts of all things, as if she is still a small, young woman with a delicate face rather than a towering being of legend. “Sometimes you never know there’s a mess to begin with.”

“That’s terrifying,” Sect Leader Jiang says flatly, “Go away.”

“Very well, little love,” she says, nudging him almost playfully with her muzzle, “I will be in the lake.”

She straightens up, fins flaring out as she delicately lifts herself. Wood splinters and glass shatters with every movement as her coils lift out of the rubble. Madame Jiang glides easily through the sky, circling over Lotus Pier. Lan Wangji can hear the exclamations from town, they are so loud. They have good reason to be. It’s not everyday that a dragon passes overhead.

They watch Madame Jiang fly over the lake. She circles for a moment, scales glinting in sunlight, before diving straight down. She cuts through the water easily, not a single wave displaced despite the large body entering it, the only sign of her passage an echoing ring of ripples.

Lan Wangji had never known silence could be so loud before.

“Well,” Sect Leader Nie cuts through it cheerfully, “Let’s get this sorted out, shall we?”

“Seclusion?!” Jiang Cheng asks incredulously, face thunderous.

Privately, Nie Huaisang agrees. The Lan seem to solve everything by shoving the problem in seclusion. Not that it ever seems to work. It seems to be an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ solution more than anything. If the Lan don’t have to see the problem, they can pretend it doesn’t exist.

“Lan Yun,” Jiang Cheng says with a forced calm, keeping eye contact with the idiot who had confidently announced Lan Yun’s punishment. Lan Qiren doesn’t seem inclined to save him, Nie Huaisang notes with amusement, “attacked a member of my sect, a member of my family, in the middle of our home and you think sticking him in seclusion to reflect on his mistakes is a just punishment?”

Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that, Jiang Cheng.

“It is our way,” Elder Idiot says, apparently completely oblivious to the furious sect leader that is two seconds away from going straight for his throat.

“Hairong could have died!” Jiang Cheng snaps.

“And had she, the punishment would be much more severe,” is the reply, “But she did not. Therefore, seclusion will suffice.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrow. “If Lan Yun ever shows his face in Yunmeng lands again, his life is mine. In the meantime, it seems the Jiang Sect needs to make some revisions to its trade agreements with the Lan. You’ve demonstrated a reduced need for Yunmeng goods. Does that suffice?”

Oh look, the elder is turning red. It’s always fun when someone manages to make a Lan lose their cool, Nie Huaisang muses, fanning himself. It makes things much more interesting.

“Enough,” Lan Qiren cuts in, “The exact details of Lan Yun’s punishment have yet to be decided by the elders of our sect and it will, of course, be pending Sect Leader Jiang’s approval.” He holds up a hand to stall the protests of his clan members. “As the Sect Leader of the one who was wronged, it is his right. Now, onto the matter of the damages.”

Trust Teacher Lan to steer things back on course without causing an explosion. Though usually, he is the one doing the exploding. Perhaps dealing with Da-jie and Wei-xiong has finally tempered him some? Nie Huaisang eyes the tension around the old man’s eyes, the grim set of his mouth, the tight line of his shoulders. Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps he is simply well aware that Jiang Cheng is not making idle threats. He really will cut off the Lan Sect if he feels it justified. And he has both the power and the means to do so without it hurting his own sect.

The Jiang Sect has always kept largely to themselves, even before Jiang Cheng became Sect Leader. The benefit of maintaining such a stance is that most people tend to leave you to yourselves and, as a result, stop paying attention to you. From a purely technical stand point, Nie Huaisang would consider the Jiang Sect the most powerful sect – even among the Great Sects. The only reason they aren’t considered as such by the world at large is because of the above-mentioned isolation stance. The last time the Jiang Sect was publicly entrenched in politics was the Sunshot Campaign and the period of rebuilding that followed. As soon as the disaster that was the battle at the Nightless City happened, the Jiang Sect had all but withdrawn from the cultivation world. If it weren’t for little Jin Ling being a Jin and therefore outside of the Jiang Sect’s jurisdiction, Nie Huaisang is willing to bet that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have even shown up to the Discussion Conferences all Sect Leaders were expected to attend, or in the rare cases they were unable to, send a representative. Before Da-jie showed up, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have been surprised if Jiang Cheng had one day decided to never step outside of Yunmeng again. The cultivation world hadn’t given him much reason to want to.

Now, though, he has reasons to want things.

And Lan Qiren knows it to.

Most of the Lan may be content to think themselves above the petty politics of the cultivation world, but Lan Qiren can’t afford to. He was the unofficial Sect Leader Lan for decades after his brother’s seclusion and he has once again been unofficially thrust into the position. Lan Wangji may help, but most of his attention these days goes to either Wei-xiong or his duties as Chief Cultivator and with Er-ge – with Lan Xichen still in seclusion, Lan Qiren must once again contend with sect politics.

Nie Huaisang isn’t sure how aware Teacher Lan is of Jiang Cheng’s power as a sect (There are, after all, many an incident with Jiang Cheng’s children that prove just how very many people don’t pay attention to the Jiang Sect even though they really should.) but he knows that the old man is shrewd enough to realize that favoring his own clan in this will hurt them more in the long run. Better to suffer a blow to your pride now than to lose it all later.

What follows is an intense round of haggling that he and most of the other Sect Leaders in the room are only witnesses to. The conflict is between the Lan and the Jiang after all – minor sects would have no say regardless and the Jin and the Nie are officially uninvolved. (Everyone knows that the new Sect Leader Jin will side with his uncle. If anyone is actually paying attention, they’ll know the Nie will side with him too. Nie Huaisang has never taken threats to his older siblings well.) The list of damages is impressive both because of how much it is – Nie Huaisang doubts Lotus Pier has been in such a state since the Sunshot Campaign, something that is likely making Jiang Cheng twitchy – and because of how little it is – Nie Huaisang saw how big Da-jie was and he might not be a great cultivator, but even his little spark of ability allowed him to feel the veritable flood of power that is now living under his Da-jie’s skin.

A budget is set and a contract is drawn up and signed, before the meeting is dismissed. Nie Huaisang finds himself walking with Jiang Cheng, Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng’s head disciple, Xia Lian, trailing behind them.

“So who won the bet?” he asks, glorying in the way Jiang Cheng sighs the sigh of a man who suffers far too many fools. Xia Lian snorts and Jin Ling almost manages to stifle his laugh in time.

“Huaisang,” he warns, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“A-Cheng,” he returns with a smile.

“A-Sang,” Jiang Cheng glares at him.

Nie Huaisang pokes him in the side. “Come on, tell me, tell me! Who won the bet?”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Guess.”

“Grandma Ming,” Jin Ling says immediately.

“We’re still checking the books,” Xia Lian says with an easy shrug, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. The way it pulls at the scar across her face is really quite fetching. He’ll have to ask her to let him paint it later. “But Grandma Ming is a pretty good guess.”

“Grandma Ming always knows,” he muses.

Jiang Cheng scoffs and rolls his eyes again, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips as he stalks off to undoubtedly check on his people, so Nie Huaisang will call it a win.

“Young Mistress!”

Jin Ling immediately feels a stab of annoyance.

Ouyang Zizhen chuckles next to him as he raises a hand in greeting. “Lan Jingyi! Lan Sizhui!”

Lan Sizhui smiles at them as they draw near, falling into a proper bow. “Sect Leader Jin,” he greets.

Oh. No. Nope. Absolutely not.

“Never call me that again,” he snaps, pushing the older boy up from his bow.

Lan Jingyi snorts. “He prefers ‘Young Mistress.’”

“I prefer my name, you absolute disaster of a person,” Jin Ling shoots back.

Lan Sizhui’s smile somehow becomes warmer without his expression shifting at all. “Jin Ling,” he corrects.

“How are you?” Ouyang Zizhen asks, “Neither of you showed up with the rest of the Lan for the conference. Did something happen?”

“Nothing serious,” Lan Sizhui reassures, “We were on a night hunt that ran long. A restless ghost. He wasn’t…malicious, but he very much did not want to rest.”

Lan Sizhui’s slightly strained expression implies that the night hunt was more complicated than that and did not even slightly go according to plan.

“Forget the night hunt,” Lan Jingyi cuts in before Jin Ling can ask, practically vibrating out of his skin, “Are the rumors true?!”

Ouyang Zizhen blinks, head tilting to the side. “Rumors?”

“Gossip is forbidden,” Lan Sizhui sighs in such a way that implies he has said this many times in the last few days.

“Little Mother says that all rumors are based on something. The important part is checking your facts,” Lan Jingyi immediately retorts. “This is me checking my facts.” He grabs Jin Ling by the shoulders. “Is your aunt a dragon?”

“Oh that,” he says as blandly as he can manage.

Lan Jingyi starts shaking him. “Oh that? Oh that? Explain, you stingy – ”

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui admonishes.

Lan Jingyi obligingly stops shaking him but his glare does not diminish in the slightest.

“She’s in the lake,” Jin Ling offers after a long moment of aggressive staring, “We can go visit her if you like.”

Lan Jingyi makes an embarrassingly high pitch sound in the back of his throat, even as Jin Ling starts nudging him in the right direction. “Oh my god, your aunt is a dragon!”

“How did that happen?” Lan Sizhui asks, eyes wide as he moves to follow them.

Ah. Hm. Right. Is there a polite way to say that one of your sect members tried to kill your aunt?

Ouyang Zizhen makes an awkward sound that might have been a laugh in a different situation. “Are either of you particularly attached to Lan Yun?”

Jin Ling snorts. Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui exchange bewildered looks.

“No?” Lan Sizhui offers after a moment. “He’s not in our generation so we’re not really familiar with him.”

“Oh good,” Ouyang Zizhen says brightly.

“What did he do?” Lan Jingyi asks eagerly, leaning forward.

Jin Ling crosses his arms. “He attacked Jiuma in the middle of Lotus Pier,” he says flatly.

He watches the Lans’ mouths drop open in shock and Ouyang Zizhen immediately launches into the story. He’s good with words and makes it sound like an adventure rather than the heart stopping moment it really was. Jin Ling pointedly doesn’t think about the way his aunt looked when she collapsed, limbs splayed awkwardly where they fell and oh so frightfully still. Lan Jingyi is hanging on every word, gasping at all the appropriate parts which only seems to egg Ouyang Zichen on. Lan Sizhui, on the other hand, looks concerned. There is a furrow between his brows and a frown tugging at his lips.

“What happened after?” he asks, “Is everyone alright?”

“There were a few injuries, but nothing too serious,” Jin Ling answers, “Most of it was property damage.”

“And your aunt turning into a dragon,” Lan Jingyi adds.

“And Jiuma turning into a dragon,” he agrees.

“She’s always been one though,” Ouyang Zizhen points out, “She just had a different shape before.”

“About that,” Lan Jingyi says, “Can’t she just change back?”

“Nope,” Jin Ling answers, “She says she’s stuck.”

“Do you know what array was used?” Lan Sizhui asks.

He shakes his head. “Only that it had some sort of truth element to it. Lan Yun claimed it was to ‘reveal the truth’ whatever that means. Senior Wei has been working on reversing it for the past few days and he says it’s not that straight forward.”

“Well, if Senior Wei is working on it, I’m sure it’ll turn out fine,” Lan Jingyi says. Privately, Jin Ling isn’t convinced. But he does concede that if anyone can figure it out, it would be Senior Wei. “But what happened to Lan Yun? Sect Leader Jiang wouldn’t have taken any of this lying down.”

Jin Ling snorts. “Oh, he didn’t. Lan Yun’s currently in a cell with his spiritual powers sealed and his sword confiscated. Even he isn’t really sure what he did, so he hasn’t been much help in reversing it.”

“I thought for sure Sect Leader Jiang was going to gut the Lan Elder that suggested seclusion as punishment,” Ouyang Zizhen pipes in, because as heir of the Ouyang Sect, he had the pleasure of front row seats to the disaster that was that meeting.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jin Ling scoffs, “Jiujiu would never do that in the middle of a meeting.”

“But he would absolutely do it elsewhere,” Lan Jingyi drawls and Jin Ling doesn’t disagree, “Was anything actually decided or did everyone just shout at each other?”

“The Lan are paying for the damages,” Ouyang Zizhen answers, “They’re covering the cost of the materials and half of the labor costs.”

“Good,” Lan Sizhui says firmly, disapproval over this entire situation heavy in his voice, Lan Jingyi nodding his agreement. It makes something in Jin Ling uncoil. Not that he was worried either of his Lan friends would be upset over the backlash the Lan would likely face for this, but it was still nice to have the confirmation that neither of them agrees with the actions that were taken against his family.

“As for Lan Yun,” Ouyang Zizhen continues, “No official punishment has been decided yet, but it’s pending Sect Leader Jiang’s approval.”

“Well,” Lan Jingyi says after a beat, “It’s a good thing neither of us are particularly attached to him. We’ll be sure he gets a proper burial.”

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui tries to sound disapproving, but the slight upward tilt of his lips gives him away.

Soft laughter cuts through their conversation. Startled, they look up to see Sect Leader Nie grinning at them. They’re passing by the pavilion he’s been using to observe the lake. Jin Ling has seen his paintings of his aunt’s dragon form. They are very beautiful. Jin Ling has already extracted a promise from the sect leader for one of the paintings, he just has to decide which one.

“Jiang-xiong wouldn’t kill him,” Sect Leader Nie says with an amused smile.

“…I’m pretty sure he would?” Lan Jingyi says slowly. Lan Sizhui elbows him in the side and he adds, “Sect Leader Nie.”

Sect Leader Nie’s smile widens. “Oh, to be young and innocent,” he sighs fondly.

“Stop trying to be vague and mysterious, Nie-shushu,” Jin Ling says, crossing his arms, “It doesn’t make you look wise.”

“I’ve no idea what you mean, A-Ling,” he replies airily.

Jin Ling snorts. “What are you doing? Did you make another painting?”

“Mm. I just finished one. Would you like to see?”

Ouyang Zizhen’s eyes go wide and pleading. “Can we? Your paintings are so beautiful, Sect Leader Nie!”

Nie-shushu waves them in with his fan. “Don’t touch though. It’s still drying.”

“Sect Leader Nie has been painting Little Mother,” Ouyang Zizhen explains as they enter the pavilion, “They’re really quite lovely pieces.”

Jin Ling walks over to the table, ignoring the others that have been hung up in various spots. He’s seen them already. This new one has been done entirely in blue inks – a blue dragon dancing gracefully over a lake. The dragon is a darker blue, cutting through the water with an elegant ease. The lake seems to rise up to join in the dance, tendrils of water curling around the dragon’s form. It’s a scene that Jin Ling has seen often these past few days. It’s breathtaking.

“Nie-shushu, I want this one,” he whispers.

“Mmm? You’re certain? I might paint another one you like more,” Nie-shushu replies.

“I’m sure. I want this one.”

Nie-shushu smiles. “I’ll set it aside then.”

“Did this actually happen?” Lan Jingyi interrupts loudly.

Ouyang Zizhen is already nodding. “Every day,” he insists.

Jin Ling turns. They’re looking at the painting of Hairong sunning herself in the shallows of Lotus Cove. She’s taken to doing so every afternoon since this entire thing started. Pretty much all of the younger disciples and all the children in town have taken to swimming around her, climbing her coils and using her fins as slides. It’s fun and it makes Hairong laugh, though she isn’t above shifting suddenly to knock them into the water just because.

“Do Lans even know how to swim?” he asks dubiously, because he’s a little shit as his aunt fondly informs him, and he likes to tug at Lan Jingyi sleeves just as much as the older boy tugs at his.

Lan Jingyi puffs up in offence exactly the way he thought he would. “Of course we do!”

“Then you should join us!” Ouyang Zizhen says.

“Ah,” Lan Sizhui says, “Maybe not.”

Right. Lan Sizhui got boat sick.

“You could just sit with Jiuma,” he offers, “She keeps herself close to the shore and tells stories. Jiujiu meditates on her head sometimes.”

Lan Jingyi’s jaw dropped. “He does not.”

“Sometimes he even naps on her head,” Nie-shushu adds shamelessly, always ready and willing to embarrass Jiujiu at any given opportunity.

“You’re lying,” Lan Jingyi says as Ouyang Zizhen claps his hands over his mouth to hide his smile, “There is no way Sandu Shengshou takes naps in public.”

“I’m not very familiar with the Lan rules,” Nie-shushu says mildly, which is a lie if Jin Ling has ever heard one, “But I’m fairly certain that lying is forbidden.”

Lan Jingyi squints at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says, because apparently even he will not call a sect leader a lying liar who lies to their face when Lan Sizhui is standing right next to him. “Speaking of, no one has actually shown me a dragon yet and I demand proof.”

Nie-shushu blinks. “Proof?”

“Gossip is forbidden,” Lan Jingyi informs gravely, “So I have to find out for myself.”

“A sound policy,” Sect Leader Nie agrees, “She’s in the lake.”

“That’s what I said,” Jin Ling huffs.

“Best get on that, then,” he replies waving them towards the entrance of the pavilion, “You’re burning daylight.”

“Like she wouldn’t be around at night,” Jin Ling grumbles.

“Ah, but little Lans have bedtimes.”

“We do not!” Lan Jingyi protests.

“You kind of do,” Ouyang Zizhen says.

“Let’s just go down to the lake, shall we?” Lan Sizhui starts herding them out, “Apologies for disturbing you, Sect Leader Nie. Thank you for letting us look at your paintings. Zizhen was right – they are very beautiful.”

Nie-shushu just smiles. “Thank you, Young Master Lan.”

Jin Ling lets Lan Sizhui drag them out of the pavilion and down towards the water. Lan Jingyi is urging them on, anticipation bright across his expression. By the time they reach the docks, he’s all but bouncing in place.

“Where is she?” Lan Jingyi asks, looking out at the lake, “I see no dragon.”

Jin Ling rolls his eyes and kneels so he can dip his fingers into the water. “Jiuma?”

He can feel the confusion pouring off the Lans, but between one blink and the next, Hairong is raising out of the water. Instead of towering over them, only her head breaks the surface and she grins at them.

“Nephew,” she replies, taking in his companions, “Little storyteller. And little Lans too. Have you come to visit me?”

Since Lan Jingyi’s jaw seems to be somewhere around his ankles, Jin Ling answers for him. “Jingyi is fact checking.”

That seems to amuse her. “Oh?”

“Apparently there are rumors everywhere and since Lans don’t gossip, they’re here to see with their own eyes.”

She chuckles. “And what do your eyes tell you?”

“You’re a dragon!” Lan Jingyi suddenly erupts. “Why didn’t you tell us you were a dragon?!”

Her eyes are bright and Jin Ling can hear the laughter in her voice. “I never told you I wasn’t,” she says.

That’s true – Jiuma is always frustratingly vague. Jin Ling has never cared personally, but he’s overheard many people ask Hiarong who or what she is before and always, always, her reply is non-answer. She never confirms any guesses, but she never denies them either.

“Besides,” she continues, “You never asked.”

Lan Jingyi splutters.

“I apologize on behalf of the Lan Sect, Madame Jiang,” Lan Sizhui says, going into a perfect bow – one suited to the spouse of a sect leader rather than one for a legend. Jin Ling didn’t think it was possible, but apparently he can like Lan Sizhui more than he already does.

“I do not need, nor do I want, your apologies, little star,” she says, “The wrong was committed by one and they alone hold the blame. The only apology that is appropriate is one from him. Children should not shoulder the blame for the faults of their elders.”

Lan Sizhui looks conflicted, but he nods after Lan Jingyi tugs his sleeve and Ouyang Zizhen gives him a supportive smile.

Jin Ling isn’t sure how to make Lan Sizhui not feel guilty by association, but he can at least distract him. Jumping onto Jiuma’s head and demanding a story seems to do the trick, if Lan Jingyi’s shouting is anything to go by. But Hairong just laughs fondly, indulging them as they lay back against her scales.

He falls asleep under the afternoon sun surrounded by friends and his aunt’s voice.

Wei Wuxian sighs as he leaves the library, rubbing a hand over his face.

Over a week and he still hasn’t found a solution. He’s almost there – he can feel it. He’s got most of it figured it out. There’s just one element he can’t decipher. The array Lan Yun used shouldn’t have done what it did; at least that’s not how it was intended to be used. Which means there’s no actual transformation element in the array and therefore nothing for Wei Wuxian to reverse. If he can get past this one hurdle, he’s certain he can create an array that will fix this entire mess.

The problem is that he has no idea who to get past this hurdle.

Lan Zhan would tell him to step back and rest, to try again in the morning, but he has too much anxious energy in his system to sleep right now. If he tried to join Lan Zhan in bed now, he’d only disturb his husband and he doesn’t want that.

He’ll take a walk to clear his head. That should help.

“What are you still doing up?”

Wei Wuxian spins around. “Jiang Cheng!” he exclaims and then winces at his own volume.

Jiang Cheng scowls at him. “It’s late. What are you still doing up?” he repeats.

“Aaaaah, well you know me, Jiang Cheng,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I get sidetracked when I work on a project! I have too many ideas to sleep!”

“Are any of them good ideas?” Jiang Cheng asks, eyes boring into him.

He feels himself deflate. “No, sorry,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I keep getting stuck on the transformation aspect of the array. That’s not written into the original function, so I have no idea where it came from which means the only ways I have of reversing it are all guesswork at best and I don’t think any of us are comfortable risking everything on a guess we aren’t sure will even work.”

Fuck, he’s babbling.

“Anyway, what are you doing up?” he attempts to redirect, though from the flat look Jiang Cheng gives him, it doesn’t work.

“Can’t sleep,” Jiang Cheng admits easily.

Ah. Right. He imagines he’d have a hard time sleeping too without Lan Zhan in his bed after his husband had been attacked.

He places a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll figure it out, Jiang Cheng, I promise,” he vows with all the sincerity he can muster.

Jiang Cheng just rolls his eyes though and knocks his hand aside and Wei Wuxian tires not to flinch. “That was never in question,” he says, and oh, he hadn’t realized that, that Jiang Cheng thought like that, that Jiang Cheng would put such faith in him, and it makes him ache in his chest for an entirely different reason.

“But you’re stuck, aren’t you?” his brother continues, snagging his sleeve and tugging him along, “Why haven’t you asked Hairong?”

Wei Wuxian blinks, caught off guard and lets Jiang Cheng drag him down to the docks. “Uh. No?” he admits, “She’s not a cultivator, so I hadn’t thought to…”

Jiang Cheng is giving him a flat look and Wei Wuxian kind of agrees with him now that he’s thinking about it. Hairong may not be a cultivator and may have no interest or ability to cultivate herself, but that doesn’t mean she’s clueless.

“When was the last time you slept?” Jiang Cheng asks bluntly.

“…two nights ago,” he admits. He’s pretty sure at least. Lan Zhan would never let him neglect himself like that, even if he was neck deep in the middle of a breakthrough. “But it’s not that bad, Jiang Cheng, really! Lan Zhan brings me meals and makes me take naps and doesn’t let me get lost in my head. I’m fine, I promise.”

Jiang Cheng looks at him skeptically, and yeah, okay he deserves that. But he’s telling the truth this time!

“Someone has to look after you, I suppose,” he grumbles after a beat, “Come on.”

They walk in silence and Wei Wuxian tries not to fidget. They’ve gotten better. They’re still not – good. But they’ve talked and they been doing better. He thinks they have, at least. He knows that Lan Zhan doesn’t like Jiang Cheng and that the feeling is mutual, but Hairong is always here with a smile that’s filled with far too many teeth, ready to pounce should Lan Zhan cross over a line she has decided he has no business being near. Wei Wuxian is glad that his brother has someone like her in his corner; someone who will take his side no matter what. It’s good for Jiang Cheng to have someone like that in his life.

He knows that Lan Zhan is mostly angry on his behalf, but he wishes he wasn’t. Lan Zhan shouldn’t have to shoulder that burden and Jiang Cheng has every right to be angry with him. (He tries not to think about that time Hairong had found him drunk on the roof and he had been far, far too honest. She had looked at him blankly for a long moment and then carefully pushed back his hair and told him oh so gently that yes, Jiang Cheng had every right to be angry. But he had every right to be hurt by that anger. It was the softest she had ever been with him. He doesn’t know if he believes her.)

If Wei Wuxian is being honest with himself – and he tries to be these days – he’s been avoiding Hairong. He hasn’t gone down to the lake at all since she took up residence there. He’s seen her from a distance, lounging in the shallows with the children, arching over the lake, sunning herself on the rocks. But he hasn’t approached her directly. He’s not scared – he just. Doesn’t really know what to say to her. It’s easy when she’s just Hairong, his little brother’s wife who sometimes-passive-aggressively-sometimes-aggressively bullies him into communicating with Jiang Cheng like the two of them are real, functional adults instead of jagged, broken pieces of pain and trauma held together in the vague shape of a person through sheer, stubborn willpower.

When she’s a dragon, it’s. Well, it’s a bit different.

So he isn’t really sure what to expect when Jiang Cheng leads him down to the docks, but Hairong singing isn’t it. In hindsight, it’s a rather foolish thought – Hairong is a performer. She loves singing and dancing and storytelling. Why should that change just because her shape did?

There a different tone to it though. A different element to it that Wei Wuxian has never witnessed before.

Hairong glides through the water with the ease and grace of long practice, twisting in the air with water curling around her form as she dances over the center of the lake. Her voice echoes across the water, haunting and joyful and longing all at once. He doesn’t recognize the language, but he doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything by not being able to understand the words.

It’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful.

“You’ve never seen her do this before?” Jiang Cheng murmurs from his place beside him. Wei Wuxian had entirely forgotten he was there.

He shakes his head, unable to look away. “I’ve been mostly holed up in the library. Haven’t really had the time,” he answers softly.

Jiang Cheng makes an amused sound. “I didn’t mean recently,” he says, “This isn’t a new thing.”

As he says it, Wei Wuxian can picture it – Hairong as the woman he knows, small and lithe and so full of life, dancing across the waves, head thrown back and a grin on her face.

“Oh,” he says dumbly, “I hadn’t thought – but that makes sense.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “She wouldn’t mind if you watched, if that’s what you’re worried about. She’s more shameless than you.”

A fact Wei Wuxian is well aware of. He hadn’t thought he’d ever meet such a person, but here they are.

“…she doesn’t like me,” he says.

“She likes you fine,” his brother immediately shoots back, “She just won’t let you avoid your own bullshit.”

Wei Wuxian makes a vague hum of acknowledgment. Hairong doesn’t let anyone avoid their own bullshit. But that doesn’t mean she likes them. Still…Jiang Cheng knows her best. “I’ll take your word for it,” he says.

“You could just ask her.”

“I could.”

He knows without looking that Jiang Cheng is rolling his eyes at him.

Hairong twists on the surface of the lake, arching up towards the sky before she falls still, her song ending, the last note fading into the night. Jiang Cheng kneels and dips a hand into the water.

“What are you – ?” he starts to ask, brow furrowed, only to be interrupted when Hairong suddenly collapses, sinking beneath the surface of the lake.

He’s left little time to wonder about if because twin spots of glowing gold appear in the water by the dock right before Hairong raises up in front of them.

“Little lotus,” she greets, “Little innovator.”

Wei Wuxian will never admit that he likes it when Hairong calls him that.

“Wei Wuxian has hit a wall,” Jiang Cheng announces like a traitor.

He twitches. “Jiang Cheng!”

Hairong just chuckles. “There are always obstacles in the road. It’s just a question of how you are going to get around them.”

She looks at him, expectant.

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Okay,” he says, “I’ve figured most of it out. The original array wasn’t so much meant to reveal the truth as it was to reveal hidden things. I mean, there’s an honesty compulsion to ensure that the things revealed are true, but that’s not really the purpose of the original array. Which would be simple enough to reverse on it’s own because we’d just have to switch the ‘revelation’ components to ‘hidden’ and – ”

“You’re babbling,” Jiang Cheng cuts in, “If you’ve already figured that part out, then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that there’s no transformation component in the original array,” he admits.

Jiang Cheng blinks. “What? But – ” he gestures at Hairong, expression incredulous.

“I know,” Wei Wuxian says, “But I’ve deconstructed the array at least six times and there’s nothing that should prompt this kind of reaction there!”

“You are approaching the problem from the wrong angle, I think.”

Wei Wuxian stares up at Hairong. “What do you mean?”

Hairong shifts, sinking slightly to be closer to their level. “What was the intent behind the array?”

Jiang Cheng frowns. “Lan Yun maintains that the array’s purpose is revelations of truth,” he says glancing Wei Wuxian.

“It’s really not,” Wei Wuxian confirms.

“The purpose does not matter in this instance,” Hairong says.

Now Wei Wuxian is frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Truth is…a very odd thing,” she says, “When most people think of it, they think of something that is always true no matter how it is picked and prodded. It is not something that can be changed. It is objective.”

Wei Wuxian raises a brow, interested. “But…?”

Hairong grins at him. “They aren’t wrong. But most everyday truths that people face are not objective. They are subjective.”

“How?” he asks.

“Because they depend largely on your point of view,” she answers, “Something you should be more than familiar with, Yiling Patriarch.”

“Ah,” he winces.

“You mean people manipulate the truth to suit them,” Jiang Cheng says.

She shakes her head. “No. They believe it to be true with all their hearts – but that doesn’t mean it is. For you, midday is when the sun is high in the sky. But for the owl who hunts at night while you sleep, midday is when the moon is high in the sky. So which is the truth?”

“Both of them,” Wei Wuxian says, mind working, “Lan Yun’s intent was to reveal the truth regardless of the actual purpose of the array. But he was as surprised by the results as the rest of us.”

Hairong looks pleased. “Indeed. I have many shapes, little innovator. Some human, some animal, some that are in between. All of them are still me. And yet, of all of them, this is the form that was revealed. Why?”

Wei Wuxian exchanges a look with Jiang Cheng. Hairong has a point. He knows that her relationship with the Lan has been…contentious at best and for one of them to actually act against her, in the middle of Lotus Pier no less, it would not be with the intention of revealing her to be a dragon. That would only prove her to be in the right and make the Lan lose face in the process. Which is exactly what happened. Lan Yun would not have intended for this to happen – had looked surprised when it did. So…

“Hairong,” Wei Wuxian says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, “Are you a dragon?”

She laughs softly, an amused gleam in her eyes. “In your culture? Who’s to say? In mine?” she grins, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. It should be terrifying and yet Wei Wuxian can see her all but radiating mischief. “The dragon has always been my brother.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Oh, well if you’re related to dragons,” he mutters, crossing his arms as he shoots a searching look at his wife, “Lan Yun wanted to reveal you as a monster.”

Her smile dims into something more solemn at that. “And he got one.”

There’s a pause.

Hairong is many things, but monstrous is not even remotely close to anywhere on Wei Wuxian’s list. He’s seen her with people. The juniors, the elderly, the children, civilians, cultivators, prostitutes, sect leaders. He’s seen her in all kinds of situations – he’s seen her be kind and cruel, gentle and harsh, proper to the point of pain and so shameless that even he is red in the face.

Wei Wuxian has known monsters.

Hairong is not one of them.

“I think we have different definitions of what a monster is,” he says flippantly.

She huffs at him. “Oh? And my appearance doesn’t do it for you?”

“More than half the people here are tripping over themselves just to bow to you,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

Hairong clicks her tongue in disapproval. “Then what of the fact that I’ve killed more people than are currently alive?”

Wei Wuxian stares. “…How old are you?”

“Don’t you know to never ask a lady her age?” she asks coyly.

“Even if that’s true,” Jiang Cheng starts, his tone and expression conveying that he knows very much that it’s true, “What the fuck does that have to do with us?” he asks gesturing between them.

“I’m really not in a position to be throwing stones about that anyways,” Wei Wuxian adds softly, crossing his arms over his chest. The events of the battle at the Nightless City are more like bloody fragments of jagged glass than actual memories, but that doesn’t mean he has no clue what happened. He’s all too aware. He knows what he did. What room does he have to criticize another for the murder of thousands? And he knows that’s what it was. For Hairong, it doesn’t matter if it was in self-defense or cold blood, if there was a good reason or not. Killing is killing is killing. And he, someone who has more blood on his hands than he cares to think about, understands that very well.

Hairong hums and Wei Wuxian gets the distinct impression that she’s shrugging even though she doesn’t have the appropriate body parts for such an action.

“I am what I am,” she says, “Your feelings on that are yours and yours alone.”

“As if you don’t already know what they are,” Jiang Cheng scoffs.

Hairong giggles of all things and dips down to nuzzle her husband. Jiang Cheng leans into her, resting his forehead against her scales.

…Is this how Jiang Cheng feels when he and Lan Zhan are together? This is terrible.

“Anyway,” he says loudly and Jiang Cheng pulls back to scowl at him, “Don’t worry, Hairong, Jiang Cheng still loves you a lot.”

“He does,” Hairong agrees and Wei Wuxian watches with barely hidden glee as Jiang Cheng turns bright red, but then she turns to him. “And what of you, little tease, do you love me too?”

She even bats her eyes at him, which is all kinds of strange when she’s reptilian.

He splutters and he can feel himself flushing.

Hairong throws her head back and laughs, long and loud, the sound echoing over the water.

“We are getting off topic,” Jiang Cheng cuts in, blush still high on his cheeks. He turns to Wei Wuxian. “Did this help?”

He blinks and then mentally redirects. “Ah. Right. Well, if we don’t have to worry about a transformation component, then I suppose I’ve already reversed the array. We just need someone with the right intent to cast it.” He eyes Hairong speculatively, hand absently coming up to rubs his nose as he thinks. “If you were a cultivator, I would just give the modified array to you and have your intent cast it, but…”

“But she’s not a cultivator,” Jiang Cheng finishes.

“Lotus can cast it.”

Wei Wuxian watches Jiang Cheng whip around to face her. “What? No!”

“You know me best,” she says simply.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll do it right!” he snaps back.

Wei Wuxian watches, bewildered, as his brother argues with his wife over his ability to reverse the array correctly. Jiang Cheng could do it, he knows. He’s the best candidate for it – Hairong is right, Jiang Cheng knows her best. Wei Wuxian just can’t understand why he’s refusing.

“Don’t ask me,” Jiang Cheng grits out, “We have a difference of opinion on this. I don’t want mine to have any influence that might effect yours.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t get it, not at first. But then Hairong goes still and her eyes go impossibly sad and soft.

Oh.

Hairong isn’t a cultivator.

Jiang Cheng is.

Hairong is going to die long before he does.

Wei Wuxian knew that, he did. But he’s never really stopped to think about it before, about what it means that Hairong doesn’t have a golden core. He knows what it means. (He knew what he was subjecting himself to when he gave his away.) Yet, it’s never before occurred to him what it meant for Hairong specifically. And considering he’s not the one married to her, but his first instinctive reaction is a violently visceral no, he can understand Jiang Cheng’s refusal.

He can’t make his brother do that. Not to his wife. Not to someone he loves.

So he needs to find a different solution. Hairong can’t cast the array, but she as the correct intent needed for it. Jiang Cheng won’t cast the array, but has the spirit energy needed to activate it in the first place. He tilts his head to the side, turning the idea over in his mind, shifting the pieces until they slot together neatly. It could work – a slight adjustment to compensate for dual casting, but with a single power source.

It should work.

“Okay,” he says loudly, clapping his hands together and pasting a bright smile onto his face as he pushes through the heavy atmosphere like it isn’t there, “Jiang Cheng’s spiritual energy will power the array, but Hairong will be the one to actually cast it.”

“…Will that work?” Jiang Cheng asks skeptically.

“I will make it work,” he says.

“Thank you, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian stares up at Hairong with wide eyes. Something he’s long noticed about Hairong is that she doesn’t use names. Ever. This is the first time he has heard her use one and it’s his.

Her gaze is heavy and he feels it like a physical weight on his chest. He understands.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

It isn’t until he and Jiang Cheng are on the way back to their rooms that he remembers to ask the question that has been burning in the back of his mind for the entire week.

“So you married a dragon? What’s that like?”

“Wei Wuxian!”

Lan Qiren feels as though he has aged forty years over the course of a single week.

The last conference that had devolved so badly was the one when Wei Wuxian’s return was revealed to world after the then Madame Jin, Qin Su, had committed suicide and started a chain of events that shook the cultivation world so hard that they were still recovering. Lan Qiren thinks this one might be worse. The last one was – regrettable. But understandable once everything had come out. This though…

This time, he isn’t certain how to even begin wrapping his head around these new revelations. This time, it is the Lan that have lost face, not the Jin.

The Discussion Conference has more or less come to a standstill in the wake of Lan Yun’s actions. They still meet daily but little of what is actually discussed is actually what they are meant to be discussing. It’s mostly become nothing more than an attempt to subtly interrogate Sect Leader Jiang about his wife. Jiang Wanyin is not known for his patience, but Lan Qiren really must give the younger man credit for enduring such nonsense without snapping – that’s not to say Sect Leader Jiang is taking things lying down. He’s had no problem making his displeasure known and Zidian is almost constantly throwing off sparks.

It’s a wonder no one has been struck down by the lightning Sect Leader Jiang wields so naturally.

When Wei Wuxian comes up with a way to reverse what has been done to Madame Jiang, Lan Qiren is not surprised. As much as it galls him to admit it (and he will never do so out loud), for all the he is an undisciplined deviant, Wei Wuxian is brilliant. Which is way they’ve all gathered at the docks today; to witness his work in action and hopefully revert Madame Jiang to human form. Wei Wuxian seems confident it will work and he doubts that Jiang Wanyin would let any such array near his wife if he was not confident in the same.

Lan Qiren does not allow the general unrest in the air to affect him. The Jiang Sect are the only ones completely unsurprised by recent revelations and he has decided he will reexamine that fact at a later time – preferably in private far away from the stress that seems to follow the Jiang Sect like a shadow. The Nie and the Jin are surprised, though their Sect Leaders are noticeably not. The Lan were completely caught off guard. He has been completely caught off guard. In his defense, he’d never expected a member of his sect to have the audacity to attack a member of another sect completely unprovoked. Lan Yun has much to answer for when they return to the Cloud Recesses – and not just for his attack on Madame Jiang. His entire approach to the situation was wrong. Lan Qiren cannot take the risk that Lan Yun would not have acted in a similar fashion with someone else who disagreed with him. Contrary to what some of his contemporaries seem to think, seclusion is the least of what Lan Yun deserves. His actions will have lasting consequences, not just for him, but for the entirety of the sect.

At the very least, Madame Jiang herself doesn’t seem inclined to take action against them. He’s seen Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi sitting on the dragon’s head with Sect Leader Jin and the Ouyang Sect heir multiple times since they’ve arrived. And Sect Leader Jiang has been almost alarmingly reasonable about the entire thing – though Lan Qiren has no doubt that if he’d failed to bow his head to the younger man, that would be an entirely different story.

The gathered cultivators watch as Wei Wuxian ducks in close to explain something to Jiang Wanyin. The Sect Leader nods and Wei Wuxian retreats back to Wangji’s side.

Madame Jiang, who has been waiting silently in the water near the docks, carefully lowers her head.

The soft glow of spiritual energy shines between husband and wife as Sect Leader Jiang applies the array. He steps back and Madame Jiang sinks into the lake.

Lan Qiren can sense the energy in the air – heavy and potent and vast in a way that is honestly terrifying – building similarly to the way it had at the beginning of this entire fiasco but in a far more controlled manner.

Madame Jiang emerges from the center of the lake, shooting into the sky without displacing a single drop of water. She glides through the sky as easily as she did that first day for all she has not left the lake since she entered it. She dances through the air with a grace that would look unnatural on any other creature, coils twisting and turning, scales glowing with a golden light far brighter and purer than sunshine. That golden light builds and builds and builds until it is too bright to look at. The energy begins to compress, sinking in on itself until it becomes a single point of light.

And then it falls.

That single point of condensed energy crashes into the lake, waves rippling outwards. Golden energy bleeds out with the ripples, expanding until the entire lake shines like the sun, soft waves of light lapping at the docks.

The light slowly fades, leaving the water looking exactly as it was before and yet Lan Qiren cannot help but feel that something has changed. He blinks the spots from his vision and ignores the whispers that have risen around him as Jiang Wanyin approaches the edge of the dock.

Just as the Sect Leader reaches the end, a hand reaches up out of the water, slapping down on wood before a human body hoists itself out of the lake.

A very naked human body.

The whispers turn into loud exclamations and Lan Qiren pointedly turns his gaze away, forever lamenting the fact that his peers are apparently incapable of rational thought in the presence of improperly clad woman. Or an un-clad woman, as the case may be.

“Hairong,” Sect Leader Jiang’s voice cuts through the noise, aggrieved and resigned in equal measure.

His wife simply laughs. “Did you expect my clothes to survive that?”

Jiang Wanyin heaves a put-upon sigh. “It would have been nice,” he says, followed by a rustling sound.

“I don’t know what the fuss is about,” Madame Jiang says, “I’ve little need for clothes. My scales are fine enough.”

Lan Qiren is suddenly struck by the realization that Madame Jiang’s constant disregard for what is considered appropriate attire is because she doesn’t consider it worth her attention. After all, why should a dragon worry about how many layers is proper for what occasion?

Even though he’s been doing so all week, Lan Qiren is going to have to reevaluate every interaction with Madame Jiang.

“You don’t have scales right now,” Sect Leader Jiang replies flatly, “You have fragile human skin and you are soaking wet. If you don’t wear clothes, you’re going to get sick.”

“Fine, fine.”

“There. You’re decent.”

Carefully, Lan Qiren turns. Jiang Wanyin is adjusting the way his outer robes lays across his wife’s shoulders. It’s a hopeless endeavor – the robe is far too large for her small frame, and though Sect Leader Jiang has managed to tie it in such a way that it won’t fall right off her, the sleeves still cover her hands and the robe pools at her feet.

“I’m always decent,” she says, lightly bating his hands away and walking down the dock towards the assembled cultivators watching her attentively.

The robe drags along the ground revealing a highly improper amount of leg, but Lan Qiren does not allow his eyes to stray. He can not say the same for many of his fellows.

She stops before them in an overly large robe, legs on display, hair unbound and in complete disarray and dripping wet, completely soaking her clothes. Her expression is serene and distant, eyes half-lidded as she looks over them, still glows with residual energy, golden light shining brightly.

She looks like an empress.

“Lan Yun,” she says, golden eyes locking on where he stands bracketed by Jiang disciples, voice echoing and far too large for her small frame, more suited to the towering creature of legend Lan Qiren now knows her to be. “Are you satisfied?”

Lan Yun falls to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground.

“A thousand apologies, Madame Jiang,” he says, “This lowly one begs your pardon. He acted foolishly in his arrogance and delivered harm upon both your person and your home. This one swears on his sect and his sword that such a thing will never happen again.”

Madame Jiang scoffs.

“What pretty words,” she says. There are glowing points of gold across Lan Yun’s shoulders where her gaze bores into him. She flicks a sleeve and the Jiang disciples haul Lan Yun to his feet so she can look him in the eye. “Are they for Hairong, the mortal woman who speaks her thoughts freely without censure? Or are they for the immortal legend you worship as if it were a god?”

Lan Yun visibly flounders. “I – they are for you – ”

Madame Jiang sneers at him. “You were willing to use spells and trickery because I did not agree with you. You could have killed me over a difference of opinion. What value do words have when they come from a mouth such as yours?”

Lan Yun cannot answer, face red with embarrassment and shame, nor can he retreat held in place as he is.

“If you ever use such methods again, no matter how mundane or mild you think the situation to be,” she continues, “I will find you. And I will rip your throat out with my teeth,” she says calmly, simply.

It is not a threat.

It is a promise.

And Lan Qiren realizes, with a cold, sinking dread, that the woman they have known for over the past decade, the woman who openly questions their ways, who sincerely and eagerly debates their philosophies, who flaunts her impropriety in their faces without shame every chance she gets, who constantly drives their sect to its wits end trying to deal with her – that all of that shameful, improper, aggravating behavior was her being polite.

And her patience is now at an end.

“Do you understand?”

Lan Yun gives a shaky nod, trembling from head to toe.

“Excellent. Get out of my sight.”

The Jiang disciples release him and Lan Yun makes a hasty retreat.

Madame Jiang casts her gaze over the assembled cultivators and Lan Qiren notes with growing unease that she seems to linger on anyone in Lan colors.

“I am a patient woman,” she says after a moment of heavy silence, “But even I have my limits. I have grown tired of dealing with spoiled children who throw temper tantrums whenever the slightest thing doesn’t go their way. As things stand, I would be within my rights to declare war over this, would I not?”

She turns towards Sect Leader Jiang, head tilted in inquiry. Jiang Wanyin raises an eyebrow in question, but nods in acknowledgment.

“An attempt on your life was made,” her husband answers, “We would be in our rights to retaliate.”

She laughs. “Oh, the Yunmeng Jiang would not be going to war,” she says, turning back to them with a smile that looks far more like a baring of teeth, “It would be me.”

Her words land amongst them like a stone, heavy and blunt and shocking. Lan Qiren feels as if he cannot breathe.

“That’s how things work amongst you lot, isn’t it?” she asks, head tilted in earnest curiosity, “You tried to kill me so I kill you back? That’s what I’d do if I was like you. Oh, but I forgot,” she muses thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t stop there, would I? The Lan are dangerous. They attack individuals for the simple act of having thoughts. Such a dangerous sect to leave unchecked. They are a threat and must be dealt with. Isn’t that what I would think, if I was like you?”

There’s a pressure in the air, pressing down on his shoulders, squeezing around his lungs. Lan Qiren’s heart is in his throat. He has not felt fear like this since the Sunshot Campaign.

“I could, you know,” she continues, “It would be easy. You’ve all done it countless times and never batted an eye. If I was like you, it would be easy. The Lan are a threat to me and mine – too dangerous to be left alive. If I was like you, I would wage war, wouldn’t I? If I was like you, I would claim each cultivator’s life in retribution. But not just yours, right? If I was like you, I would slaughter you all. The oldest, most feeble elder down to the infants in their cradles. The servants. The non-combatants. The children. That’s what I would do, if I as like you.”

Her pause is like a physical weight, her glowing gold gaze piercing straight through them. Her voice has gotten quieter, softer, as she spoke and yet it echoes across the entirety of Lotus Pier. Her next words are little more than a whisper, but they strike Lan Qiren to his core.

“Aren’t you so very glad that I am not like you?”

And then the pressure is gone.

The energy that saturated the air has vanished and Lan Qiren pulls air into his lungs as if he had been drowning just a moment before. He’s not the only one. All around him, cultivators are gasping, staggering as if released from a great weight.

The Jiang Sect’s First Disciple, Xia Lian, steps from the crowd and offers Madame Jiang her arm, completely unruffled by the scene she just witnessed.

“Come, Little Mother,” she says, “You must be tired, no need to linger. Sect Leader can deal with the guests.”

Madame Jiang huffs. “Don’t call them guests,” she says, voice once more that of a mortal woman, as she threads her arm through Xia Lian’s, “That implies that they’re wanted.”

“As you say, Little Mother,” Xia Lian replies, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Except you, little hunter,” Madame Jiang flaps a sleeve in Sect Leader Nie’s direction as they pass, “You’re an angel and we’re all thrilled you’re here.”

Nie Huiasang just smiles, leisurely waving his fan. “Always a pleasure to be here, Da-jie.”

Jiang Wanyin snorts before stepping forward. “Alright, show’s over,” he says pointedly, “I’m sure we all have far more important things to do.”

Lan Qiren has never been more glad for a Discussion Conference to come to a close.

Jiang Cheng is not surprised when Hairong slides into his bed.

She plasters herself to his side, head resting on his chest, hand over his heart. He curls an arm around her shoulders, fingers smoothing down the soft fabric of her sleep robe. The first few times this had happened, Jiang Cheng had nearly bodily thrown Hairong from the room. Sometimes, he still doesn’t welcome it. But sometimes, times like tonight, he silently yearns it.

“Are you angry at me?” Hairong asks, tracing patterns on his chest.

A sigh explodes out of him. He should be. Her little show earlier had spun the sects into a whirlwind – half of them tripping over their own feet as they beg him to reign in his ‘wife’ and the other half demanding to know if they need to prepare for war. Lan Wangji had been visibly unnerved, but Wei Wuxian seemed to have been the only other one in the room to understand what had just happened. But with three of the Great Sects firmly in agreement that no war preparations were necessary, there was little that could be said.

Nie Huiasang pointed out that Hairong had every right to be upset about what happened and nothing she said was untrue.

Not a statement that had helped really, but it got the point across.

As it stands, Jiang Cheng isn’t feeling particularly charitable to any other sects at the moment. They only care now that Hairong’s ‘true’ form has been revealed as opposed to just last week when they would have been content to slander her name and gossip as soon as her back was turned. Now they are going to fall over themselves to flatter her, to gain her favor, when before they would have ignored her existence. They will fear her and revere her and Jiang Cheng is almost looking forward to watching her put them all in their places.

But more than all of that – more than the damages and the other sects and politics of it all – Jiang Cheng keeps seeing that moment Hairong hit the floor.

All week, every time he closes his eyes, he sees her there, sprawled out on the ground, still and limp and lifeless. He sees her, Hairong, his friend, his family, collapsed in a heap, dead, in the middle of Lotus Pier. While he stands there, helpless unable to stop it. He’d told himself, years ago, that Lotus Pier would never again be filled with the bodies of people he cared about. He’d promised.

And yet.

“I’m not angry,” he whispers into the quiet between them.

Hairong hums. “But you are upset.”

He breathes, closes his eyes, sees her body seared into the backs of his eyelids.

Hairong is patient, hand over his heart, fingers taping out a mindless beat. She doesn’t prod or pry. She merely waits.

“You were dead,” he says after a long silence, “For that single moment, you were dead. And I could do nothing.”

The tapping over his heart stops. Hairong pushes herself up and braces herself over him, elbows on either side of his head and looks him in the eye. He meets her gaze and lets everything he won’t say, everything he doesn’t know how to say, show in his eyes.

Her face softens and she dips down to press her forehead to his.

“My death will never be your fault,” she says firmly, “Regardless of the how or why or when. Regardless of if you are standing right next to me or on the other side of the world. My death will never be your fault. Do you understand?”

“Logically,” he replies, because he does. He understands what she’s telling him. But emotions rarely follow logic and Jiang Cheng has never been particularly inclined to listen to logic when his emotions run wild.

Hairong pulls back enough that he can see the rueful smile quirking her lips. “Fair,” she says as she settles back against his side.

They breathe together for a moment and now Jiang Cheng waits. He knows what’s coming next.

“I am going to die, Jiang Cheng,” she says quietly, “And it will not be your fault.”

He pulls in a breath, holds it for a moment, and then releases it all at once. “I know,” he answers, “And part of me will hate you for it.”

“I know,” she echoes back at him, “But just because I will be leaving you in however many years does not mean I’ll never see you again. Death isn’t a goodbye. Just a see you later.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he can’t help but grumble.

She huffs a laugh against his throat as she curls into him. “No,” she whispers to him as if imparting a secret, the weight of years in her voice, “It is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

Jiang Cheng gives in and turns, wrapping himself around Hairong’s smaller form. “Then why do you keep doing it?”

She smiles, small and sad and fond, hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Oh, A-Cheng, nothing is forever. I would have rather loved and lost than never loved at all. You know that.”

“I do.”

And he does. They’ve had this talk numerous times over the years. It never gets any easier. He understands all too well what Hairong means when she says death is something that happens to the living. It makes him cling that much harder to the things that are his.

“You’re not allowed to die of anything other than old age,” he announces.

He can feel her smile against the hallow of his throat.

“I will do my best.”

It’s not a promise. Hairong never makes promises about things out of her control and Jiang Cheng loves her for it. She never promises impossible things. Still.

“You’re a Jiang,” he grumbles at her, closing his eyes and settling more firmly against her. “Attempt the impossible.”

A breath of laughter warms his chest.

“As you say, little love.”

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drwcn · 4 years

Text

discordance!verse part 8(2/2): there are consequences to their actions, consequences they can’t avoid.

in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair.

[8.1] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis] OR

see [discau tag] or [discordance navigation page] for all installments

Both 8.1 and 8.2 are posted on AO3 Chapter 4

The verdict came at dusk.

Yinzhu, Madam Yu's handmaid and bodyguard, bows to Jiang Yanli, "Da-xiao'jie, Wei-gongzi's presence is requested."

Over at jingshi, a senior Lan disciple does the same. "Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun's presence is requested."

"Not to worry, A-Xian, we will go together."

"I shall go with you, Wangji."

"Da-xiao'jie -"

"Zewu-jun-"

"- the Elders request that he goes alone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Wei Wuxian arrives at the Lan family's sacred ancestral hall, Lan Wangji is already there, kneeling alone before the altar, flanked by Gusu and Yunmeng's elders and their stern and silent gaze. He braves it without any signs of distress. His back is straight, his posture unbent and his spirit unbroken. Like him, Lan Zhan is dressed down in a plain white robe, no guan to hold up his hair, only a bare strip of white cloth.

To see him relatively well, Wei Wuxian releases the anxious breath he's been holding high in his chest. The last thing he remembers is passing out in Lan Zhan's arms in front of Songfeng Shuiyue. They were beating Lan Zhan with the whip…they were… And then Zewu-jun had arrived.

Of course Lan Zhan is fine. He is Hanguang-jun, Gusu's Second Jade, the second ranked cultivator of our generation…Lan Zhan is fine… he's fine…

Shijie tells him it's been seven days. Has it really? He wonders. Only just? Why does it feel like a lifetime has passed?

Eyes turn on him as he makes his first step into the abbey, and he's never more thankful for the potion the healers fed him pre-emptively than at that moment. He knows he must look a sight, as much as shijie has tried to clean him and make him proper. It could be so much worse; at least he is walking independently instead of being hoisted by disciples. The mixture of milk of poppy and cannabis extract dulls the fire burning along his back just enough for it to be bearable.

Shijie was none too unhappy that he has to trek all the way to the ancestral hall by himself, but Wei Wuxian is not so bothered. When one decides to bed one's husband's brother, it is only natural that one must prepare for the possibility that one's ass is going to get flayed. The situation as it is, his affair is a thing of public knowledge and his reputation is in tatters. Once, he had boasted to Xue Yang that if he, Wei Wuxian, is the second most shameless person in the cultivation world, then nobody would dare to be first.

It was truthfully a bit of an exaggeration, for he had been a beloved ward of Jiang Fengmian, Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, the son of Cangse Sanren, and the fourth ranking cultivator of his generation.

Now… now he's just a problem. Even His mother would be ashamed.

Wei Wuxian stumbles, and the sound of his shuffling steps has Lan Wangji whipping around, eyes growing wide at the sight of him.

Do I really look so awful?

"Wei Ying!" He pushes to his feet but a single pulse of spiritual energy from an elder strikes him in the leg and forces his back onto his knees again. His porcelain mask crumbles and the raw pain underneath bleeds through.

A tinge of red seeps through the white of his robes, like a plum flower blooming amidst snow.

Wei Wuxian is suddenly acutely aware of the waning of Lan Zhan's cheeks and the pallor of his skin. Lan Zhan seems subdued somehow, almost as if… he's still confined by spiritual locks.

Without his cultivation, his wounds won't heal.

Worry lances Wei Wuxian in the chest, hot and sudden. Beneath his breast-bone, his physical heart aches within its cage. Struggling another three steps, he falls gracelessly onto his knees. His breath shakes, beads of cold sweat breaking across his temple and clinging to his hairline. The potion's numbness is starting to wear off, and the wave of pain rising inside him is almost enough to topple him to the ground. Still he holds on. He squeezes his eyes shut and gathers his breath, but he knows he must appear pathetic like this, half wasted before the Lan and Jiang Elders, Uncle, Madam Yu, and all of Gusu Lan's ancestors. No amount his usual shield of devil-may-care attitude could protect him now from his own sense of embarrassment.

"Wei Ying." Someone whispers his name. A firm grip finds his elbow, pulling him up.

Lan Zhan has shifted closer, so close in fact their thighs are almost touching. Cool, gentle fingers caress his face. He holds Lan Zhan's hand out of need and desperation.

Inexplicably, the elders allow this, but it doesn't bode well. Rather than perceiving it as leniency, Wei Wuxian is seized with dread.

Kindness is something one shows to a prisoner sentenced to die.

~~~

Lan Wangji is terrified.

The fact that the elders of Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang are able to deliberate and come to a consensus within half a day, that Yu Ziyuan and Lan Qiren can peacefully tolerate each other's presence without devolving into a shouting match, that neither xiong’zhang nor Jin-xiao-fu'ren are permitted to attend - are reasons for his frightful premonition.

There are candles and oil lamps lit all along the hall, illuminating the tomb plaques stacked neatly one row above the next up the wall of names.

With a nod from Madam Yu, Uncle rises from his seat and approaches him and Wei Ying. His expression is sullen and sad.

"Wangji, Wuxian. The Elders have discussed at length. Initially we had considered xiu'fu to be the most direct solution, but Yunmeng Jiang Sect has made it clear a divorce is not acceptable. After some convincing, Gusu Lan Sect concedes. Despite the rumours and the gossips, we recognize that you are both equal participants in this affair. Neither one is more guilty than the other…and in any case, Xichen himself is not the least bit bothered by any of this. The dissolution of your marriage, Wuxian, is not why we've summoned you both here today before our family's ancestors."

With a permissive gesture, Uncle beckons a Lan healer to enter the hall.

Lan Wangji's blood grows cold as the healer stops before him and Wei Ying, bows once, hands a tray to Lan Qiren containing two identical jade cups filled with clear liquids, and shuffles out without glancing once at either of them.

He hears Wei Ying inhale sharply, the fingers laced between his own squeeze impossibly harder.

So this is what it shall be.

Two cups of poisons to end the scandal, to wash them of their sins, and to restore honour to its rightful place.

Lan Wangji looks to the man he loves with his entire being, and finds Wei Ying's equally panicked eyes staring back at him.

This can't be real.

"Shufu -" Lan Wangji inches forward on his knees. Wei Ying has already taken three hundred and one lashes for him and nearly lost his life in process. He's never owed Lan Wangji anything, and even if he did, surely the debt's been paid in full and then some. He doesn't deserve this. "Shufu - shufu, forgive Wei Ying! This is my fault - "

Lan Wangji is the instigator. Since that first night at the wedding banquet, he's lost control of himself. Wei Ying annoyed him, yes, but only a little. Even since day one, Lan Wangji was able to recognize that Wei Wuxian from Lotus Pier has wit, spontaneity, and heart. His talent with a sword impress even those that disliked him, and he wields it with a sense of right and wrong that is fluid and innate, and has nothing to do with the rigid precepts carved in stone.

Lan Wangji fell without realizing, without warning, slow and sudden all at once.

He envied Lan Xichen who had all of Wei Ying and didn't know it, didn't treasure it. He envied Jiang Wanyin who held Wei Wuxian's sworn loyalty as brother, as family. He envied Jiang Yanli, who could draw the light to Wei Ying's eyes with a simple well-wishing letter and a smile from his lips that was warmer than the hearth in a winter storm, than the sunrise on a summer day.

He envied them because they had so much of Wei Ying and he had so little and wanted so much, but now he has everything…

…and what a price his desires demand.

"Shufu - Madam Yu -" Lan Wangji turns to the matriarch of Yunmeng Jiang and knocks his forehead to the ground. "Please believe me, this is entirely Wangji's doing. Wei Ying is innocent! If anyone is guilty, it is Wangji!"

"No! Lies!" Wei Ying protests, pushing Lan Wangji out of the way to say, "Don't listen to him, it's my fault- I -"

"That's enough." Lan Zonghui interrupts the youngsters' panicked tirade, always the cold voice of reason. "Perhaps you should allow your uncle to finish."

Lan Qiren grimaces, as though he can't make himself continue. Tightening his grip on the tray, and he says, "This transgression goes beyond the breaking of vows or the marriage of two individuals. The dignity of two great sects are at jeopardy. Since you are the ones who started it, you must be the ones to finish it. You must've known the consequences of your sins when you both chose this insane course of action, so we ask nothing but that you find the decency and courage to face them. Neither Gusu Lan nor Yunmeng Jiang are the deciders of your fates. As you are both equally at fault, to blame one over the other would be unjust. Therefore," He presents them with the cups.

"Only one is laced with poison. Which one you choose to drink is entirely up to you."

Lan Wangji's head is light, and he barely thinks before he asks out right, "Why not both?"

Lan Zonghui tilts his head curiously. "Do you think you deserve to die together?"

Of course not. That would be too kind.

Wei Ying closes his eyes as tears fall.

"What do you intend to do with the other?" ask Lan Wangji, glaring up at Lan Zonghui with mutiny in his eyes.

"Seclusion, to repent for your sins -"

"Wei Ying!"

Lightning fast, Wei Wuxian has already swallowed the content of cup closest to him and is reaching for the second cup.

It did occur to Lan Wangji earlier that if he moves quickly enough, he can grab both and drink both, but while he wrangled with how to best execute his plan, Wei Wuxian is already in motion.

Lan Wangji shouts something incoherent as the others in the room gasp. His powers may be sealed, but Wei Wuxian is carrying the wound of three hundred lashes. Even now, they are evenly matched. Lan Wangji knocks his hand out of the way at the very last second, stealing the second cup right out from under his reach and downs it in one go.

The drink tastes like nothing. Like water.

No…

He stares at the cup in hand then up at Wei Ying, assuming the worst, but Wei Wuxian is staring back at him with equal terror, seemingly not in any kind of danger. He must've tasted water too.

Was it… was it a test?

Lan Wangji dares to hope. He looks to his uncle, "shuf-", but then he feels it.

It's not pain, but he feels it, crawling up from his belly and overtaking him inch by inch. He lurches forward, falling onto his palms, the jade cup clattering to the ground.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying collects him in his arms and shakes him furiously. "Lan Zhan!! Stop fooling around! You can't die, they're not going to let you die, I'm not going to let you die, so - stop it! Stop messing with me!! Stop pretending - Lan Zh- Lan Wangji if you die now I will never forgive you!!"

Lan Wangji tries to say something, but he can't. Death is heavy, like a woolen shroud coiling tighter and tighter around his body. He's already lost sensation of his limbs, and even his vision is starting to blur. Whatever the poison is, it works fast.

Wei Ying is full on sobbing now, all pretenses of composure gone.

Wei Ying… I couldn't protect you when I should have.

He wishes he could speak these words aloud, or to touch that lovely face one more time, but he is relieved nevertheless that fate chose him. It is the intolerance of their world that demands one of their lives, but Lan Wangji finds he cannot regret his actions, despite his life coming to an end. To have met Wei Ying was a gift, to have loved him was a blessing, and to die for him now is an honour. Even when he's gone, he knows Wei Ying will be taken care of; xiong'zhang would ensure that much even if he is powerless to stop the will of the Elders.

It should shock Lan Wangji how quickly he's made his peace with death.

Wei Ying's cries drown out his senses, and he wishes again that he could somehow comfort him. Of all the things that has happened since Su She discovered them in the back mountains, his own demise is one which he willingly accepts. Above all else, he refuses to go with a broken heart, because then it would all have been for naught.

Lan Wangji smiles. To spend the last moment on this earth in Wei Ying's arms is indeed not so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wei Wuxian feels it the second Lan Zhan grows still in his arms. Eyes closed, a smile lingers on his peerless face.

"L-Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan!! Lan Zhan!!"

He's still warm, pliant. Soon, soon he won't be. No, no Wei Wuxian refuses to let this be the end. It just can't.

Still holding onto Lan Zhan, he lunges forward and grasps onto Lan Zonghui's robe hem beseechingly. "Elder, elder please help him!" But Zonghui shakes him off.

Wei Wuxian glances frantically back and forth at the stone faces around him, desperation and despair brewing into hysteria inside him. Then, he finds it, the one pair of eyes not glaring at him in cold condemnation but pity.

Gently setting Lan Zhan on the ground, Wei Wuxian tries to get up, but his body does not obey. The back of his thin white robe is already soaked through, the vigor of his earlier movement having undone all of the healer's work. Too far gone to care now, Wei Wuxian crawls forward on his elbows and knees until he reaches Yu Ziyuan.

"Yu-fu'ren, please, please I’m begging you, give Lan Zhan the antidote! There has to be an antidote, right?! There can still be a chance - I'll die- I can die right now if you want me to! But save Lan Zhan, save him please! He is Gusu's Lan-er-gongzi, Gusu's Second Jade, my husband's little brother! I've already ruined my marriage, my reputation, my standing amongst the cultivators! Zewu-jun is kind and magnanimous, but even he won't want me now, especially if Lan Zhan is dead because of me! What is the point of letting me live?!! There is no future for me anywhere, but there still a future for Lan Zhan! Yu-fu'ren - no - shimu, shimu please, A-Xian has never begged you for anything in this life, please, if for nothing else than the fact I have been raised under you wings, help me save Lan Zhan, please…"

Madam Yu slowly bends down, hooking her index finger under Wei Wuxian's chin and lifts it up. "You would die for Lan Wangji?"

His face blotchy and snotty from sobbing, Wei Wuxian hiccups. "I - I would. Right now if you wish it."

There's a beat.

"Wangji isn't dead."

It is Lan Qiren that speaks. Yu Ziyuan releases him. Wei Wuxian twists around to see Uncle's hand pressed against Lan Wangji's left carotid. "Just out cold. You'd know if you thought to check instead of letting appearances fool you."

Disbelieving, Wei Wuxian struggles back to Lan Zhan's side to verify for himself. With trembling hands, he turns Lan Zhan over and gathers him in his arms. Though he knows there is nothing to fear, he still can't help pressing two digits to Lan Zhan's neck, checking to make sure the precious pulse is still there. Sure enough, Lan Zhan's heartbeat is strong and his breathing deep and unlaboured.

Alive.

Wei Wuxian blinks, still reeling from the mental whiplash of the sudden revelation, but the steady thrumming beneath his fingertip coupled with comforting sight of that warm, flushed cheeks give him the courage he needs to face what is to come.

Lan Zonghui steps up to him and says, "You said so yourself. There is no future for you. Now you understand now why it always has to be you." From his qiankun sleeve, he retrieves a small porcelain bottle.

The real poison. Wei Wuxian realizes, sagging in relief. The irony of his emotions is not lost on him.

"What did you actually give us?"

"A strong anesthetic."

"Then… how come I'm not affected."

"The antidote to the anesthetic was laced into your pain medicine, which the healers gave you before you were summoned," Lan Qiren explains.

Sleeping…he's just sleeping. Thank god, oh thank god.

Lan Zhan is alive. He's going to be fine. But…Wei Wuxian grows worried again, imagining how Lan Zhan will react to his death once he comes to.

"What will you tell him? When he wakes up, he's going to realize you've tricked him." Lan Wangji can be the most stubborn when he's fixated on a goal. There's no telling what he would do. "You have to… you have to protect him from himself."

"He won't know. We will tell him that one cup had the poison and the other an anesthetic. The poison is slow acting while the anesthetic is fast."

"He will question it. Why the anesthetic? Why the smoke and mirrors?"

Lan Zonghui looks from him to the boy lying unconscious cradled against him. "Does he really want to be awake to watch his lover die in his arms as you just assumed you did? We will tell him it's mercy, so that the remaining party won't have to watch the process happen. He will be allowed to say goodbye to you at the sect funeral. We will grant him that."

"Sect funeral?" Echoed Wei Wuxian, surprised. "You… Gusu Lan Sect would bury me with honour? Even after…"

"That is the compromise." It is a Jiang Elder - Jiang Liliang, Wei Wuxian believes - who explains to him. "The Lans will recognize you as one of their own. No ceremony will be spared. In death, you will be given all honours and decorum befitting the husband of Sect Master Lan. The action of an individual should not affect the relations of two sects. This is a stance the elders of both our families unanimously share."

Wei Wuxian nods, understanding, finally calm after all that crying.

"I'm still worried about Lan Zhan. You must swear to -"

"Wangji will be under guard at all times until the funeral, after which he will be sent to sealed seclusion for three years. He won't have access to his powers or means to harm himself. Time dulls all pain. So too will Wangji's. Someday, you will just be a mistake of his youth."

A mistake of his youth…

Indeed.

Lan Zonghui picks up the cup Wei Wuxian had discarded on the ground and pours the content of the vial into it.

Wei Wuxian wonders what it actually is.

"Do you have any more questions?" Lan Qiren asks him, sullen but not unkind.

"None."

"Requests?"

Requests? Ah yes. Last rites. At least they let him have that, and if he may, there is in fact something he'd like to do.

"One."

"You may name it."

"Turn around."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'd like to kiss Lan Zhan. One last time. So unless you'd rather watch me do it, turn around."

"Look around you, you insolent scoundrel!" One Lan Elder whose name he can't recall cries out in anger. "You're in the ancestral hall, Wei Wuxian! How dare you?!"

But Wei Wuxian hugs Lan Wangji close and swallows his pride. For what seems like the thousandth time since he arrived, he begs, not for himself, but for Lan Zhan.

"Please."

He expects that even after his death, he would be the smear in Hanguang-jun's otherwise pristine history, but he doesn't want to be just that, not completely. This, he will leave with Lan Zhan. Even if only one kiss out of their thousands is sanctioned, it will still be better than nothing.

One kiss, just one.

Perhaps they understood him, for Lan Qiren and Yu Ziyuan turn away without further protest, and Lan Zonghui too. Grumbling, the rest of the elders follow suit, displeased and somewhat disgusted by his shamelessness, but Wei Wuxian is due to die any second now, so they allow him this one offense.

"Sleep well, Lan-er-gege, I've gotta go now," he whispers for no one to hear.

Their last kiss is slow, chaste, and Wei Wuxian prays.

Lan Zhan, for yourself sake, I hope you can slowly feel less for me. I would hate to know you spent the rest of your very long life sad. But maybe...don't forget me completely? How does that sound? Or else I'd be a very sad ghost…

Lan Zhan... next life, let's not be brothers-in-law, hm? If you want, I'll wait for you, however long it takes I'll wait. When we meet again, I hope it's still at night. I never did tell you how beautiful you were under the moon.

I promised, I would never leave you, so I won't. You have me, as long as you want, you'll have me. As long as you want me with you, I am not gone.

Wei Wuxian says none of those things out loud, but the soft expression on his face as he smiles down at Lan Zhan must've spoken volumes. This is a man close to death, and yet his smile is kind, soft, and sincere.

Lan Qiren makes a low cough in the back of his throat, telling him time is up.

Wei Wuxian presses his lips one last time to Lan Zhan's forehead, and lets him go.

"I'm ready."

The healers on standby transport Lan Wangji's body to the infirmary.

Lan Zonghui stands before him with the solution to this disaster.

Wei Wuxian knows that as long as he dies, all of this can end. A decision unanimously agreed upon by Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, to all those who hear of his story, his death will not be an unfair sentence. There is no bias. No undeserved blame. It is...it is Wei Ying's lot in life to be the one chosen by fate to die. The gods must've seen that Lan Wangji is good and worthy of redemption. As long as he dies, faith and righteousness will be satisfied.

"What is it?" He asks Elder Zonghui curiously. 鹤顶红? Crane's crimson crown? Probably. That is the most likely.

"天子泪."

Emperor's Tears. Wei Wuxian almost laughs. Of course, of course it is.

"It tastes like Emperor's Smile, but it is not. It is a gentle poison and will take some time to take its effect."

It's funny, Wei Wuxian muses as the jade cup is presented to him, how such a lovely thing is to be the instrument that ends his life. He accepts it with both hands, obediently, bringing it close to his lips. The familiar aroma of the clear liquid makes him smile.

He bows thrice, properly, his forehead meeting the marbled ground with a dull thud each time.

Wei Wuxian takes his last drink with the same vigour as he took his first. Eyes closed, savouring every drop. Then, clasping his hands before his chest, he draws all the energy in his body and rights himself onto his knees, facing the altar.

"I, Wei Wuxian of Gusu Lan, repent before the forefathers. May you forgive my transgressions and release me from my mortal sins."

And protect Lan Zhan. He prays. For I will no longer be able to do it.

Briefly, he wonders if there are Gusu Lan forefathers with a sense of humour. For all this to play out front of them, surely the less uptight ancestors must be thoroughly entertained by the dramatics of it all. Death, he imagines, must get boring after a while. In any case, he'll find out soon for himself.

"I'd like to spend my last moments alone."

Lan Zonghui looks to Yu Ziyuan and then to Lan Qiren. An unspoken agreement passes between them. One after another, elders of the Lan and Jiang clan vacate the ancestral hall. The heavy doors grind against the hinge, a low somber moan, as it is pulled shut, leaving Wei Wuxian kneeling amongst the candlelight.

The slow poison is not so slow. Perhaps in his reduced state, its effect is amplified, for soon after he is left to himself the air in his lungs begins to burn. A gush of blood surges up his throat filling his mouth.

If he's honest…okay, he's a little scared. Just a tad.

Hey demons, it's me. Eighteenth level of hell here I come…

In his last conscious moments, his thoughts linger on the sweet tang of Gusu's Emperor's Tears, and of Lan Zhan that very first night standing alone under the eave, away from the wedding festivities, an ethereal figure basked in the moonlight. There is a force pulling him down, and he collapses under the weight of it, right there in front of the altar.

The world is dark before he even hit the ground.

He does not hear the clash of Shuoyue's energy against the entrance, blasting open the doors, but he does perhaps hear the fainting voice of his sister calling his name.

A-XIAN.

Dusk falls, night arrives, and Wei Wuxian is gone.

---

Note:

[shimu 师母] - shi = teacher, mu = mother. The wife of one's shifu

#the untamed #wangxian #discordance #discau #cql #I'M SORRY #not really #lan xichen blew the door down #just fyi #but erm #too late #jiang cheng is not going to be happy #so this is chapter 4 on AO3 #after this it's gonna be a really really really long flash back from the beginning #the following part will be part 4 the wedding and then chronologically from there onwards

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rocket-fort · 3 years

Text

Broken soul

(unedited)

He blamed himself. How couldn’t he notice before? It was so obvious, the tired look on his face, his uncommon non-treating responses, that ugly black bags under his un shining eyes, his beautiful cinnamon skin almost as pale as a jade. He carefully squeezed the spirit-trapping bag closer to his chest as his eyes shined, irises turning a bright shade of red.

A light touch pressed his shoulder, a delicate hand with slim fingers, trembling. Wuxian turned his head, his ruby orbs returning to the silver-grey tone they should be, tearing up his face fell to reveal a painful expression that tried to show how much he was suffering, but no face he put would demonstrate how much misery he felt inside, Wei Ying opened his mouth to speak

—JieJie— the cultivator’s voice broke in the end as he veered to face his sister, could he even still call her like that? After all, it was his fault that she was suffering, he was the cause of her sorrow.

“—Wei Wuxian, why don’t you listen?— the younger man said, his tone low and cautious —You can’t keep this path it will hu- he was cut off by his brother

—A-Cheng..— Wuxian didn’t rise his voice, but his tone was severe, proving that he was getting (if he wasn’t already) mad —We had this conversation already—

—Yeah but you didn’t listen!— an exasperated voice, volume increasing a little bit but still being an almost whisper

—Jiang Cheng!— Wei Wuxian roared angrily, startling his brother, he was about to reach his breakpoint, resented energy rapidly taking control, numbing his senses —Stop being so childish! I- We made a decision and now we’ll pay the consequences, you left me, YOU choose your sect over me because you were a scared child and a weak brother to stand for and by me—

Jiang Cheng would be lying if he said his brothers words didn’t hurt, because they did, they burned in his damaged heart like hell. Just a week had passed since Wei Ying deserted, Jiang Wanyin came back to try to make amends with him and ask him to come back, it obviously didn´t work.

—You´re right, I´m sorry. I’ll be leaving now— voice fading, he knew it was the resented energy making him react like that but he couldn´t help it, he knew Wuxian wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t thought it, after all the demonic cultivation path destabilized your mind but his thoughts were his, or that’s what he thought, because this way of cultivation was really new and people barely knew about it except that it affected your body and mind, if he only knew better, if he only saw the regret in Wei Ying’s face when the energy left as Wanyin did.

As quickly as it came it quickly left him, left him with nothing but pain and regret of hurting his brother, he didn’t meant it, but people didn’t knew that “affect mind” also meant hearing those voices that did nothing more than whispering horrible things about others, especially the ones that weren’t exactly nice to him, it ruined him way worse than they knew, than he would admit.

—Jiang Cheng!— he tried to call him, screaming from the entrance of the Demon-Slaughtering cave but his shidi was already to far to listen if he wanted to keep listening, he ran trying to catch him, to late to work because the Jiang jumped on his sword and flew away as fast as possible.”

How couldn’t he notice? It was so obvious than even a blind would have noticed, the pain, the tired and kind of messy look, it was the reflect of a agonizing soul, a broken one. How much pain Jiang Cheng must have hidden from them?

“He always had always buried his pain until it was to many to handle, he exploded after his parents death, it was a wound that would never heal, he obviously blamed himself for been weak, useless and haven’t done something more, now he lost someone even more important to him and yet again even after promising himself to always look up and protect his family, it was still his fault for not being strong enough.

One week had passed, one week he had suffered like he was in hell, one week, seven days, days he had been the support to his sister who was going trough the same pain (‘if not more’ he thought) than him, he was the shoulder for her to cry, Wanyin tried to avoid her the firsts days, she didn’t knew about the duel and he didn’t had the courage to tell her, Cheng told his sister everything was fine but that Wuxian wouldn’t come back ‘for now’ after his first visit, in the third day when Yanli hugged his little brother and heard him whine as if he was in pain she got really worried, so she asked his brother what was wrong and Jiang Cheng did have the strength to lie to her again

—A-Jie, Wei Wuxian and I had a duel and he... he deserted— Jiang Yanli now looked ashed as if she was about to faint, guilt building up in him as he saw Yanli’s teary eyes, now he wished to take back his words or at least had sugar coated them

—W-What?— her voice low, she knew her brother would never lie to her but she was just so shocked that she couldn’t help to ask

—A-Jie, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault— he said trying hard not to cry

—Shh it’s okay A-Cheng it’s not your fault— as reliving this was, it also made the younger feel worst, even now her sister cared for him, even now that his family was tearing apart once again, all because of him, even now, even if her heart was broken she was consoling him. They hugged each other, trying to comfort and steady themselves.”

Jiang Yanli blamed herself too, she could always read her little brother like an open book. An uneasy feeling and bitter taste in her mouth, she was so focused on spending time in a fantasy with Zixuan that she didn’t realize how much his brother needed her. She thought he was fine “how couldn’t she realized every time she visited lotus pier?”, now she realized how wrong she was, life once again was proving how cruel it could be, once again she was falling a part but it wasn’t the time, her other brother was suffering too and she would make sure to be his support ‘I won’t fail him either’.

“A week quickly became a month, the uneven feeling of lost didn’t disappear but increased instead, his sister seemed better, his husband make sure to make her happier with gifts and surprise dates ‘he´s not as useless and careless as I thought’ Jiang Cheng told him about the situation so the peac- Zixuan looked after her sister when he couldn’t (which was most of the time since she lived in the Koi Tower and he returned to Junmeng to attend his responsibilities as a sect leader) and to make sure she knew how much he loved her and make her happy so she could forget or at least not thing too much about his shixiong, if he could still call him like that (yes he could, no matter what happened between them, he will always be his older brother but he wouldn´t admit it out loud, maybe in part because of how much it hurts).

He tried to distract himself too, overworking was his best choice, he had so many thing to do to reconstruct his sect but no matter what, the pain didn´t left him

—What do you think Wei Wu— he stopped, looking at his empty side feeling uneasy and worst than he already felt

There were so many things to do and he almost finished them all in 2 weeks. He was so tired, working his ass off until fainting, yes, he was tired physically but not as tired as mentally, his chest just felt tighter and tighter every second it passed, he was just tired of pretending to be okay, trying to be okay, tired of keep it up, he just wanted to rest... so he grabbed a pen and started writing a letter”

It was the dawn when Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan arrived at the burial mounds by sword, Wei Wuxian wasn´t in a mood for visitors (or in a good mood in general after Jiang Cheng left) but when he realized it was his Shijie, he rushed in. Wei Wuxian stopped abruptly when he saw her red cheeks and puffy eyes before running even faster to her

—Shijie! What’s w—

—A-Ying, A-Cheng he— a sob cut her off, Wuxian’s face turned paler, grabbing Yanli softly from the shoulders and shaking her slightly, his heart racing with anguish

—What happened to A-Cheng?— his tone as gentle as he could so as not to alter her even more

—He’s- A-Cheng is...— no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t say it, so she looked back at his husband, the latter nodded to her wife and said as calmed as he could, he knew about the consequences about demonic cultivation and as seconds passed by he could see it with his own eyes as Wuxian aura became dangerous and he seemed really annoyed and worried

—Jiang Wanyin is dead— a dry laugh was heard

—You’re lying— Wei Ying said bitterly, forgetting for a second that his Shijie was also there —You shouldn’t lie about such thing unless you want to make me angry— he smiled madly

Yanli rapidly grabbed his wrist to caught his attention —A-Ying.. A-Xuan wouldn’t lie about something this delicate— her voice was shaky but she managed for it to not break nor cut by her sobs

—No— Wuxian said simply —No, no, no, it can’t be!— he screamed, grief in every word that his mouth produced —I wanna see him, A-Jie— the Wei started to act impulsively but Zixuan knew it would be hard to calm him down at this moment and that A-Li also wanted to see him, so all he could do is taking both of them in his sword

—Get up— Zixuan said as he boarded his sword and helped his wife to get up holding both of her forearms

Wuxian nimbly jumped on the sword.

They arrived at Lotus Pier at midday, Wei Ying hoped off of Suihua and rushed to the room, if Yanli could, she would have done the same, but she waited to her husband to help her before practically disappearing in seconds as she touched the floor, he knew it was a family matter so he decided to not interfere for now.

There he was, as beautiful as he can be, he remained the same except for the fact that his beautiful cinnamon skin now was pale, white and cold flesh, eyes closed. He looked so calm, as if he had been in a endless hole of disgrace and suffering and now he was finally in peace.

The brothers hugged each other slowly kneeling on the floor, Yanli put her brother’s head in her chest softly patting his head in a maternally way. They stayed there for long enough for their knees to feel numb, sobbing and comforting each other.

—We are going to bury the body—

—No— said Wei Wuxian

—A-Xian please— Yanli begged

—No, a-jie, we can’t just let him go— he looked really exasperated, urgent —n-not like this— the last part was briefly a whisper

Yanli hugged him tighter, Wei Ying let himself be lost in the embrace for a little, then

He snapped back his attention to her sister, looking up at her he frowned, her sister seemed to have accepted the reality and it broke his heart so much, but he knew there was something to do, after all, it wasn’t the first time he did something like this

—I know, XianXian but we can’t do anything—

—I have an idea— he whispered placing his head back in Yanli’s chest, feeling her heart beat, hearing it rise a little at those words

Yanli’s chest tightened, heavy, she thought it was impossible to bring him back but she trusted her brother too, Wei Wuxian always attempted the impossible, both of her brothers did, that was why she was so proud of them, yes, she trusted A-Xian, she broke the embrace a bit so she could see Wei Wuxian in the eyes, then she quickly whipped her tears with her sleeve

—What do you have in mind?— determination could be read all over her face

Wei Wuxian imitated her action, his face looked exactly like hers too, he putted her arms down, reaching for Chenqing afterwards

—I will bring him back A-Jie, I’ll make him if I have to— he smiled in a strange way, eyes turning a vermilion-like color again

Wei Ying put the dizi in his lips and started playing, it was a low and frightening melody but not unpleasant, dark fog started covering him and his brother’s body.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once the melody ended, Wei Wuxian covered his shidi’s body with talismans and let him rest

—It will take time, but I’m sure he’ll wake up... he has to—

After that nobody said anything else.

In the meantime Yanli took over her brothers duty after explaining everything to his fiancé, they somehow managed to bring Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants to Lotus Pier, not without a lot of dirty looks and disgusted faces. After a month, Wen Ning woke up, which finally took away the worries and doubts, their brother was going to wake up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost blooming season, the lotuses were growing and growing. Somewhere, in a room away from people of lotus pier, a pale figure opened his eyes.

—He’s awake!— a loud and urgent scream came from the hallway that lead to the chamber

Upon hearing this, Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian ran as fast as they could towards the place where Jiang Cheng was. Once they were there, they entered the room without any previous announcement. There he was, there with his once cinnamon tanned skin was now an ashy color, almost white, his lips seemed dry and a bit purple, his freckles lost color too, now they were almost unnoticeable, but he was still their brother and he was there, awake and... alive?

Jiang Cheng felt colder than he ever felt when they hugged him, unlike his usually sunkissed skin and warm body, rigid but that could have been her imagination or maybe just because he was lost. They didn’t talk, they couldn’t, none of them had the strength, Yanli felt his brother slightly tremble under them, he was crying, but when she saw his face not even a single tear was there nor any expression, her heart broke once again thinking what he did and what he must be thinking right now, but once again, words failed her, so she just hugged him tighter.

He was broke, they all where, but they were going to try to fix him, to make him feel the love he couldn’t feel in his last moments, he was a broken soul but they were going to try to put the pieces together once again, after all they only had each other in this world.

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WAAA I finally finished this after MONTHS. This was for JC love month day 25! (reflection) tbh I read this again and feel so cringe, but I still wanted to finish it and publish something lol

I thought of making this a two shot but seeing how much it took me to finally finish the first part even after reducing it a lot I think I might end it here but it’s not a sure thing, still tried to make a fairly closed and happy ending in case I don’t make another part.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading <3

#jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #angst #mdzs angst #i’msuperlatelol #finallyfinishedsomethingibeenworking

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Note

From the Fluff prompt list #1, for MingCheng? “Could you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice.”

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t describe himself as vain, but compared to Nie Mingjue he feels absolutely inadequate.

It’s not like Nie Mingjue ever shows him that he thinks the same—quite the opposite really, with how much Nie Mingjue dotes on him—but sometimes Jiang Cheng can’t help but to notice the difference between them.

Nie Mingjue is an active martial artist who likes to lift some weights, too, and it definitely shows. He’s huge and muscular but also light on his feet and Jiang Cheng feels so, so untrained next to him.

And it’s not even like he doesn’t do anythingsakdjfanything. He used to be a swimmer—right until his parents demanded that the trophies he brings home have to be golden or otherwise he’s a failure—so he still has the wide shoulders, but he doesn’t pack much muscles.

He doesn’t have to—being a rhythmic gymnast and all—but sometimes he can’t help but to think that he’s lacking, especially compared to Nie Mingjue.

“I just wish Huaisang would lift some weights every now and then,” Nie Mingjue sighs, and Jiang Cheng tunes back into their conversation. “It would do him some good. He’s all wobbly with no support and he complaints about backpains all the time.”

“That’s true,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he hopes they can drop this topic soon enough.

If they keep talking about this then it’ll only make Jiang Cheng feel worse and he wanted to have a relaxed Saturday. He doesn’t want to have to worry about the fact that his own boyfriend probably thinks him to be absolutely useless when it comes to physical activity.

Jiang Cheng isn’t quite ashamed of the fact that he enjoys gymnastics, but his parents called it a girlish sport often enough that he got self-conscious of it. Not to mention how strangely it’s still regarded to be a male in that sport. He’s not actively keeping it a secret, but he’s also not talking about it, either, and especially not with people who lift weights for fun.

Nie Mingjue will probably think it stupid, too; he complaints enough about the fact that Nie Huaisang watches dancing for Jiang Cheng to be absolutely certain of that.

“Anyway,” Nie Mingjue says and shoulders his bag and Jiang Cheng tries to make it look like he was paying attention all along. “I’m off to the gym. See you later?” he asks and when Jiang Cheng nods he drops a kiss to his head before he’s out the door.

Jiang Cheng tries to not mind that Nie Mingjue doesn’t even ask him if he wants to come along.

He didn’t think Nie Mingjue would think him so useless and such a hindrance, but Jiang Cheng guesses this is only fair.

~*~*~

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue asks, sitting back up in bed and switching on the light.

“Nothing?” Jiang Cheng unsurely asks and stops in his tracks. “Why would something be wrong?”

“First of all, you’ve been strange for a few days now. And second; look at you!”

Jiang Cheng does look down at himself, and then back at Nie Mingjue.

“What?” he defensively asks and Nie Mingjue gives him a look.

“You’re wearing a shirt and pants. To bed. When you normally only sleep in your boxers. So please do tell me what’s wrong, because this cannot be comfortable for you,” Nie Mingjue says, waving his hands around and Jiang Cheng fights the urge to simply turn around and run away.

“Nothing is wrong,” Jiang Cheng tries but he knows that it’s futile.

And it’s not even like Nie Mingjue is wrong.

Usually Jiang Cheng can deal with the fact that Nie Mingjue is absolutely jacked—is into it, even—but lately he feels so damn insecure next to him.

He doesn’t have a six-pack and he doesn’t have that many visible muscles and it’s not like he could lift Nie Mingjue. At least he doesn’t think he could, cause he never tried but that’s beside the point.

The point is that Jiang Cheng is a slob compared to Nie Mingjue and surely it must bother him.

“My heart, I love you, but that is absolute bullshit. Something is very wrong and I want you to tell me. We promised to be honest, right? So be honest. Just tell me what has you all worried and we can work on it.”

“There’s nothing to work on,” Jiang Cheng snaps and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m not a—” he cuts himself off but Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

“Not a what?” he prompts him when Jiang Cheng doesn’t go on.

“A gym rat,” Jiang Cheng says with a whisper and can’t bear to look at Nie Mingjue. “I’m not even that athletic.”

“So?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng throws his hands up.

“You are!”

“Okay, and?” Nie Mingjue asks, because he clearly doesn’t get it.

“Why do you even like me?”

Nie Mingjue looks obviously confused.

“For many things and none of them have to do with how active you are or aren’t,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Yeah, because I’m not active.”

“And I’m not bothered by it,” Nie Mingjue gives back. “And besides, that’s not entirely true, right?” he then asks and Jiang Cheng freezes.

“What?”

“I mean you are kind of fit, so you must be doing something. And you might not be as muscle-y as I am, because you are more the lean type anyway, but you definitely pack some muscles, not even to mention your flexibility. Clearly you are doing some kind of sport. I can’t say I understand why you simply won’t tell me, but I respect it anyways.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, but it doesn’t really make him feel better.

“You wouldn’t—it’s nothing,” he tries to appease but now that they started talking about this, Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem to want to drop it.

“You can tell me, you know that, right?” he asks and Jiang Cheng doesn’t quite manage to keep back his scoff.

“Yeah, right,” he mutters and Nie Mingjue looks offended.

“I would never shame you for what you do, no matter what it is.”

“I wish I could believe that but you shame Huaisang plenty for liking dancing,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says.

“I’m not—is that what you think of me?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and he sounds hurt. “That I would shame my brother for liking that?”

“Well, you do,” Jiang Cheng defensively says but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“I don’t. I shame him for only watching it instead of doing it himself; his health isn’t the best and he’s so interested in that sport, but he can’t be bothered to do it himself. Dancing would be great for him; it would enhance his endurance and he wouldn’t get too many muscles which would ruin his aesthetics or whatever he claims and he would get to wear all of his fancy outfits. I just don’t understand why he won’t give it a try.”

Jiang Cheng is so perplexed by this that he simply blinks at Nie Mingjue.

“What now?” Nie Mingjue snaps after a minute, clearly getting defensive himself. “Anything wrong with what I said?”

“You don’t mind if he would dance?”

“Of course not. Why would I? It’s a sport like any other sport. I just want him to get some workout.”

“I do rhythmic gymnastics,” Jiang Cheng blurts out and then presses his lips together.

“Ah,” Nie Mingjue says in surprise. “I guess that makes sense. You do have the body for it.”

“But I don’t compete,” Jiang Cheng adds, feeling like that might be important, too, even though he’s afraid that Nie Mingjue will find fault in that.

He is a very active martial artist after all and he has more than one gold medal.

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue gives back and then pauses. “Wanyin, is this what you’ve been worried about? That I would shame you for that?”

“I—maybe?” Jiang Cheng hesitantly says but he also finally makes his way towards the bed. “It’s just—you’re so—” he gestures at Nie Mingjue. “And I’m not.”

“Just because I like to lift weights doesn’t mean you have to as well. Even if you would, for my sake, it wouldn’t matter, because there’s no sense in doing something you don’t enjoy. If you hate lifting weights but love rhythmic gymnastics, then that’s perfectly alright.”

“And that I don’t compete?”

“Why should you? Sport is something you do for fun; as long as you do have fun during training that’s enough. Competing is just more pressure. I enjoy that, a lot; the whole atmosphere is amazing during a competition but there are enough people in the studio who stated very clearly that they would never ever compete. Even though I’m pretty sure most of them would kick my ass, but it’s perfectly alright that they don’t want to.”

“Is it really?” Jiang Cheng mutters, and it feels a little like he’s floundering at the moment, but he was so certain that Nie Mingjue would take offense that he doesn’t know what to do now that he doesn’t.

“Yes, my heart,” Nie Mingjue says and drags Jiang Cheng up the bed so he can hug him. “It’s so absolutely, perfectly alright. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He pauses. “Why did you keep it a secret that you’re doing rhythmic gymnastics?”

“It’s just—I’m a guy,” Jiang Cheng says and Nie Mingjue makes an understanding sound.

“I guess it’s not quite that accepted, right? There aren’t that many male gymnasts, correct?”

“Yes. And my parents—” Jiang Cheng trails off but of course Nie Mingjue can fill in the gaps.

“I see,” he mutters and then presses a lingering kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head. “Well, I don’t mind it at all. I would love to see it, actually, if you are comfortable with that, but no rush. I don’t mean to pressure you. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly alright, too.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t even know what to say to that, because no one wanted to see him perform yet, but in the end he gives a short nod.

“Eventually,” he says, because he feels like he’ll need time to prepare for that.

“No problem,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and then kisses him softly. “Now go change out of these clothes, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable.”

Jiang Cheng chuckles, because Nie Mingjue is right and he only gets up to be able to shed the clothes before he’s climbing into bed with Nie Mingjue, who pulls him into his side.

“No more worrying, okay?” Nie Mingjue asks, already sounding sleepy and Jiang Cheng kisses his chest.

“Promise,” he gives back. “I love you.”

“Mh,” Nie Mingjue hums. “Could you say that again?”

“Are you already asleep? Or are you simply not listening to me?”

“No, I am, I just like hearing your voice. Especially saying that,” Nie Mingjue gives back and curls a little bit towards Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng has no retort for that, because his heart is too busy beating out of his chest with how happy he is with Nie Mingjue and he vows to do better in the future.

It should be easy with how supportive and understanding Nie Mingjue is anyway.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #mdzsbingo #established relationship #modern au #fluff #hurt/comfort #insecurities #how fucked up is it that artistic swimmers and rhythmic gymnasts need to be female #otherwise they are not allowed to compete at the olympics #i'm kinda mad about it

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luhanvirus · 3 years

Text

Nothign to fix

In which Wei Wuxian attempted to kill his brother-in-law for knocking up his baby brother.

N/A: Idk what I’m doing, I just wanted to read overprotective Wei Wuxian. Mention of male pregnancy. (Edited, sorry I was sleepy when I wrote this, OTL)

For the #CultivaTober2020, another Xicheng story with trans!JC that no one asked me.

Day 25: Alcohol

"Please, tell me that you used a condom last time we had sex.”

Xichen would like to answer, but he doesn’t remember anything because he was drunk in Wangji’s wedding and his silence only seemed to add fuel to the volatile bolts in the apricot eyes before him.

Honestly, he doesn't know why Wanyin looked like he want to murder him. They had sex a few of times before and he never did a big drama about it.

Unless he mean...

“I... Wait, did I give you a STD?”

Xichen flinches at the thought of even himself having a STD, should he call to his last sex partners??

That’s why Wanyin was mad?

“This is worse than crabs”, Wanyin crossing his arms. “You knocked me up asshole!!”

Xichen was shocked at the news.

Xichen’s mind was a mess full of questions that begged to be asked, but he couldn’t even focus to form a coherent sentence because this whole conversation didn’t seemed to have any sense to him.

Did he knocked up Jiang Wanyin?

He was going to have a child in less than nine months...

What?

“Excuse me if I sound rude, but how are you even pregnant? You’re a man.”

Wanyin narrowed his eyes, thinking hard before to chose to share some information to illuminate Lan Xichen. “Long short story. I- I’m a trans male, I don’t have a lower surgery yet and I wasn’t supposed to be having sex with anyone before the surgery.”

Xichen didn’t knew what to do with that information.

Half of him was relieved that Jiang Wanyin only had sex with him, but the other half was ashamed for being so careless.

Was he that drunk that he didn’t noticed something like that the five times that they had sex?

“So, it's mine.”

Wanyin nodded, blushing a little as he showed him three different pregnancy tests.

All the tests were positive.

“I’m sorry, Wanyin. I- I don't know how to fix this.”

“Who said nothing about fixing anything?”

“But you...”

Jiang Wanyin sighed deeply.

“It’s not like it’s all your fault, I didn’t communicate my own boundaries when I consented to have sex with you”, Wanyin cooled down and he didn’t have that murder look in the eyes anymore. “Look, I’m not asking you to marry me or something like that, but we need to figure out how to make this work for the kid.”

“We will figure something, don’t felt pressured.” Xichen was glad to know that Wanyin referred to their child as the kid and not as an unwanted thing that must be aborted soon. “I’m taking responsibility.”

“Good to know, I wouldn’t want to sue you or you family for maintenance” he says, easing after listening his answer.

“You don’t have to, it’s my child too. I want to be part of their life.”

“Good, because I was wondering if you would join me on my first appointment next Wednesday” Wanyin blurted out of his mind, . “Only if you have the time, of course.”

“Sure, where it is?”

“In Yunmeng clinic at five.”

Yunmeng was too far away from Caiyi, thought Xichen. “Okay, send me the location and I would be there.”

“Really?”

“Of course, they will be my firstborn. I can’t miss it!” he says, enjoying the soft smile in Wanyin’s lips.

Wanyin looked better with a smile on his face.

“Anyways, I’m not letting you drink alcohol around me anymore” Wanyin clarifies. “One child is enough for me.”

. 　 · ✦

Xichen came at the main house with a radiant smile on his face after Wanyin’s appointment. According to the doctor, his baby was healthy and uncle Qiren didn’t died when he told him the news and showed him the ultrasound.

He watched the video of the baby’s heartbeat that he recorded, thinking about the lullabies that he will make for his child.

He felt inspired today.

Perhaps he could start to improve a little.

The thing was that Xichen was thinking about musical notes when he went to the kitchen for some cold water and then he saw at his brother-in-law with knife in the hand, smiling. But there was no joy in his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I got the news this morning, so I’m cooking something to celebrate tonight!”

For an unknown reason, Xichen had a bad feeling.

Wangji never let his husband go near the kitchen without supervision because he can’t cook without killing you in the process and now Wei Wuxian was telling him that he was cooking something with the same crazy look in the eyes that he had last year when Jiang Yanli announced that she was expecting, like he would kill someone. Preferently Jin Zixuan.

But this time, it felt like he wanted to kill him instead of Jin Zixuan.

Never mind, don’t assume things. He tell to himself.

Xichen smiled before to ask:

“Sorry, but what are we celebrating this time?”

“Really, brother Xichen? You have the nerve to ask me that when you were the one that knocked up my baby brother on my wedding party?”

Wei Wuxian was cutting vegetables, fiercely.

“It could have been anyone that night! Why did you have to chose him?”

Xichen gulped as he stepped back a few paces, putting all the prudent distance that he could get between Wei Wuxian and him without looking rude.

“It just happened.”

“Just happened my ass, you were lurking my baby brother a long time. Didn’t you? Then you got the balls to fuck him that night!”

Xichen felt offended, he wasn’t that kind of person. “I wasn’t the first time we fucked!”

Wei Wuxian looked him, astonished.

How you dare??

“Say your last words”, he said as he pointed him with the knife and started to approach.

“Wei Wuxian, take off that knife!”

“Start to pray to someone, Lan Xichen!”

Xichen started to run out of the kitchen. He couldn’t die, not now that he had his own little family to care off.

He wants to hold his tiny son or daughter in his arms.

“You can’t kill me, I’m your brother-in-law!!”

“Can’t I?” Wei Wuxian questioned, with a ‘oh just look at me’ expression on the face.

“If you kill me, Wanyin will be a single parent and Wangji will be sad.” Argued Xichen, taking a good distance between him and Wangji’s husband through a sofa. He didn’t wanted to fight with his brother-in-law. “How would you face my child when they asks for his dead parent??”

Wei Wuxian doubted.

That seemed to be a good argument and he can’t argue with that logic. Damned Xichen! He was a smarted thinker.

“Okay, you have a fucking point. But it wouldn’t kill you if I cut your dick.”

“That wouldn’t change anything!”

“Yeah, but I will feel better!”

#MXTXLATAM #CultivaTober2020 #MoDaoZuShi #Mo Dao Zu Shi #GrandmasterOfDemonicCultivation #Xicheng #Jiang Cheng #Jiang Wanyin #Zewu-Jun #Zewu jun #Lan Xichen #Lan Huan #Wei Wuxian #Wei Ying #trans male character #trans Jiang Cheng #October Challenge 2020 #idk what I'm doing #Wangxian

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bettydice · 4 years

Text

I didn’t expect you to be lonely (too)

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated

Chapter 1

When Jiang Cheng opens the window in the morning, crisp, cold air hits his face. The leaves on the tree in the courtyard of the apartment complex are turning colours.

When did that happen? When did summer end?

It’s a new semester, a new season, and Wei Wuxian still hasn’t returned. Hasn’t called, hasn’t messaged. Jiang Cheng had thought… had hoped…

He should’ve known better.

The wind picks up and raises goosebumps on his skin. A leaf, dark red, is torn from a branch and flutters through the air.

He used to like autumn.

Jiang Yanli was spring, Wei Wuxian was summer, Jiang Cheng was autumn. Winter was them together, because it was cold and they had to stick close.

Jiang Cheng scoffs and closes the window. There’s no use in remembering or hoping. He has work to do anyway.

He makes himself an unsatisfying breakfast that consists of instant coffee and - oh, there isn’t really anything else. Of course the fridge is fucking empty.

He goes jogging, but he’s hungry and it’s cold and he hates jogging.

He takes a shower, but the water is either too hot or too cold.

When he sits down at his desk and opens his writing program, it doesn’t fucking work. Because of course not.

Error #234871FUCKYOUJIANGCHENG

“I don’t even know what that means, I’m not a fucking COMPUTER SCIENTIST!”

Like some people. Some people, who betrayed and abandoned him and moved in with some random-ass people to look after a random-ass child for no good reason and left him all alone. Now he has no one to share his meals with, so there’s no point in making sure his fridge is full, and no one who also hates jogging, so they can suffer together, and no one to fucking help him with fucking computer issues and this is all fucking bullshit.

Jiang Cheng slams his laptop shut.

Fuck you, Wei Wuxian. This is all your fault.

Another headache creeps up his temples. He’s already completely done with this day. At 9:37 AM. Fuck. He has a fucking essay to write about some bullshit topic he doesn’t care about, but how is he supposed to do that when his laptop hates him as much as everyone else does and his head feels as though it’s splitting apart?

His phone rings, and the sound feels like someone is applying a power drill to his brain. And of course it’s not on his desk but far away on the counter. Because nothing in his life can ever be easy or convenient, oh no. He stretches his arm and then his whole upper body to try to grab it from the counter without having to get up from his desk and then there’s a TWINGE and oh no, that’s not good. His shoulder feels as though it’s on fire and… yep, he can’t fucking move his head.

FUCK. FUCKING FUCK SHIT BALLS CRAP FUCK SHIT. FUUUUUUUUCK.

And his phone keeps ringing.

Everyone ignores him for DAYS but NOW when he’s literally DYING and can’t reach his phone, they want to talk to him.

He gets up, ignores the pain shooting down his right arm, carefully shuffles towards the counter, and answers the phone with his left hand.

“WHAT?”

“A-Cheng?”

It’s his sister. Jiang Cheng’s stress levels automatically lower by about 13% as soon as he hears her voice.

“Jiejie, hey. Sorry, I just…” He switches his phone to the other hand and then gets a painful reminder that this side is fucked. “Fuck, ow.”

“A-Cheng? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing! I just... pulled a muscle or something.” He sits down again and bites his lip to suppress a wail of agony. “Why did you call, Jiejie?”

He can basically hear Jiang Yanli’s gentle, slightly concerned, smile through the phone. “Ah, then I’m calling just at the right time. You’ve been struggling with tension for a while now and as you know, your birthday is coming up and -”

“Don’t remind me. That’s still over a month away. And I’m not struggling!”

“- and I have the perfect gift for you. You don’t have to wait until November to do it either. And I think it would be so good for you, A-Cheng, especially now with your pulled muscle.”

“And what exactly is ‘it’?”

“Do you remember Lan Xichen? He’s a friend of Nie Mingjue, and his uncle is Lan Qiren. I think we met him a few times during one of those large business-people dinners we used to get invited to, when father…”

Was still alive.

“I don’t remember anyone I met there, because I was bored out of my mind.” Because Wei Wuxian wasn’t invited to those. And because they were fucking boring. “What does this have to do with my mysterious birthday present anyway?”

“Ah, well, it turns out he works as a physical therapist and I guess you could call him a sort of life coach. Massages, yoga, meditation, physical therapy. He has his own little studio in his apartment, so it’s very private and intimate, and he spends a lot of time with every client, it’s not just a twenty minute massage and then you’re done.”

His sister speaks with rare urgency and Jiang Cheng feels a little bewildered by having this just thrown at him. “So, you want me to-”

“I met him recently, such a lovely man, and asked him whether he had time to take on another client, and he does! So I booked you ten sessions and the first one is Thursday, 5 p.m. We were going to meet that afternoon, so I know you have time, and we can just reschedule our meeting!”

“Jiejie! Ten sessions… I don’t… I’m not a massage person! I don’t want some stranger touching me!” This is all really very sudden, so of course his first instinct is to say no.

His sister, of course, is used to that, and expected it. So she laughs softly and continues convincing him. “Ah, but he’s not a stranger, he’s Nie Mingjue’s best friend and as I said, I met him recently - he’s very kind and sweet and he doesn’t just do massages. I’m sure he’ll be willing to listen to what you’re comfortable with and figure out what’s best for you. A-Cheng, why don’t you just go to the first meeting and see what happens, hm? It’s my present for you.”

As if he could ever actually say no to his sister. Nobody can.

“Alright, alright. But if it’s not my thing, you’ll use the rest of the sessions, okay? I could watch A-Ling while you go get pampered a little.” His sister deserves this much more than he does anyway. Not that she would agree with that.

“Just go and meet with Lan Xichen first, before deciding that it’s not for you.” She’s using her stern voice, oh no.

“I will! I’m just saying!”

“Alright. Let me know how it goes then.”

“I will.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

“Good. Remember to drink tea or water, too, not just coffee.”

“Yes, Jiejie.”

“And-”

“I’ll call you after I’ve met with Lan Xichen,” Jiang Cheng interrupts, before she can shower him with even more care. “And thank you. I… could probably use some… relaxation.”

“Great! I’ll text you the address in a bit.”

They chat a bit more about A-Ling and what shenanigans he gets up to now that he can walk, and when Jiang Cheng ends the call a while later, his mood has significantly improved.

His phone makes a noise again. He looks at the screen, expecting a text from his sister with Lan Xichen’s address, but... Fuck. He unlocks the screen and stares at his daily Wei Wuxian selfie. Today he’s wearing a bathrobe so fluffy, it seems to swallow him, and he’s making… duck lips. Jiang Cheng’s mood plummets to the ground.

Why can’t he delete this stupid alarm or app or whatever his brother has infested his phone with? Why doesn’t he just change his fucking number, get a new phone? Why does Wei Wuxian keep up this nonsense, even though he’s obviously not interested in being in contact with Jiang Cheng anymore? Why torment him with these little glimpses into a life that he lives without his brother? The selfies don’t arrive at a set time every day and it’s a new one every time, so it’s pretty safe to say, Wei Wuxian takes them and sends them himself every day. They used to arrive between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m., but recently he sometimes gets them as early as 9 a.m. On one shocking occasion it was 6:45 a.m., though Wei Wuxian did look very sleepy. Since when does Wei Wuxian get up that early?

He also seems to be spending a lot of time at a place that is not the flat he moved into with the Wens. Not that Jiang Cheng spends a lot of time analyzing the background of the pictures. Because he does not care what Wei Wuxian gets up to. Wei Wuxian does not care about him anymore either, beyond annoying him like this.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head to make his brain stop thinking about useless things. Immediately, pain shoots down his arm, burns in his neck.

Fuck.

Maybe he should just go back to bed. Clearly getting up was a mistake.

Thursday

Lan Xichen lives on the outskirts of the city. Not quite the suburbs, but in one of those areas where rich people enjoy having a garden, or at least a balcony, and less busy streets, while the city centre is still only a few subway stops away. The kind of area where his own family once lived.

Jiang Cheng checks the house number again and rushes towards the building, wrapping his jacket closer around him. It is colder now, he’s known this and yet didn’t take that into account when getting dressed.

He enters the building, takes the elevator to the 2nd floor, finds the right door and rings the doorbell.

He doesn’t have to wait long until Lan Xichen opens him.

Oh.

“A-Sang… who… who is that next to your brother?”

“Huh? Aaah, that’s Lan Xichen. Da-ge’s best friend. Why do you ask?”

“No reason!”

“Oooooh, I see.”

“Shut up!”

“Well, now I finally know your type, Cheng-Cheng. You’re into impossibly beautiful people who you’re too scared to talk to.”

“I said shut up! I just asked who it was!”

“First Wen Qing, now Xichen-ge… But don’t worry, he’s super nice. Now, his brother on the other hand… So hot, but-“

“I’m leaving!”

Fuck.

“Hello! You must be Jiang Wanyin.”

Lan Xichen smiles at him and yep, yep, Huaisang was right, impossibly beautiful. Fuck.

Oh shit, he still hasn’t said anything.

“Ah yes, that’s me. Hello. Nice to meet you.” Jiang Cheng couldn’t be more awkward if he tried. Except he can, because then he bows, way too low.

Lan Xichen seems to be too polite to laugh at him, but his eyes sparkle as though he wants to, while he invites Jiang Cheng inside.

The apartment is large and bright and… full of plants. Lan Xichen leads him into the living room, where a pot of tea and two mugs are waiting for them on the coffee table. Jiang Cheng sits down on a very comfortable chair, next to a large houseplant with beautiful green and red leaves. All in all, the surroundings help him feel way more relaxed than what would be appropriate for the situation. The situation being: Sitting across from the man Jiang Cheng has seen maybe three times, back when he was 17, from afar, and whom he used to spend quite some time thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. More than three times. The same man who is supposed to give him a massage.

“Is tea alright? Would you prefer something else?”

“Tea is lovely, thank you.” Jiang Cheng hurries to take a sip and hopefully smiles instead of grimacing.

Lan Xichen picks up a notebook and a pen, rests it on his legs, then takes a deep breath. Despite his gentle smile, and the soothing smell of jasmine tea, and the literal urban jungle he’s sitting in, Jiang Cheng thinks he can pick up a hint of nervousness from Lan Xichen. But no, he must be imagining it.

Lan Xichen opens his notebook and looks at Jiang Cheng. “So, your sister already told me that you’ve been dealing with a little tension and stress. If you’re comfortable with it, I would like to ask you a few questions and make myself an overview of where you hold your tension and how it affects you, so we can think about how to best help you.”

Jiang Cheng only smiles and nods.

“This is only a preliminary meeting, so I already know how to best proceed, once we start our sessions.”

Lan Xichen asks him a few questions about his daily schedule (repetitive), whether he does any exercise (yes, well, sort of, sometimes), is he sleeping well (eeh), does he often have headaches (yes), and so on. Jiang Cheng answers as best as he can, and even though Lan Xichen shows no judgment at all, it is mortifying for him. His life is a mess and clearly he’s responsible for all of it. Why doesn’t he do more exercise? If he has headaches all the time, he should be doing something about that!

“Mhm, have you ever tried Yoga before?”

“No.”

“Can you touch your toes?”

“I don’t know? Why would I need to touch my toes?!” Jiang Cheng regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth but Lan Xichen only looks amused.

“Excellent question.” Lan Xichen puts the notepad he’s been using back down on the table and stands up. “Would it be okay if I touch your neck and shoulders to have a closer look at your tension?”

“Yes, yes. That’s alright. Sure.” Jiang Cheng puts down the mug and rests his hands on his knees, trying to project that he’s totally casual and relaxed and that he never spent even a minute wondering how those hands might feel on his skin. Why do these things happen to him? Why can’t he even nurse a schoolboy crush for a few months and then forget about it without suffering consequences???

Lan Xichen’s hands are warm, but not too warm. Perfect temperature for being touched, really. His fingers are long and smooth and it feels really good, the way they’re digging into his muscles and-

“Fuck!”

“Sorry. Looks like I found a sore spot.” Lan Xichen strokes his fingers in a soothing apology over the spot and that’s almost worse, because it feels really good.

“I, uhm, apologise for the… rude language.”

“Oh, haha, I’ve heard worse from clients. No need to hold back, I’m of the opinion that it can be beneficial to find release.”

“Right.” This is like one of Jiang Cheng’s dreams that starts out beautiful and turns into a horrible nightmare halfway through. Will he make it through this without horribly embarrassing himself even further and/or offending Lan Xichen in the process?

“You’re really... “ Lan Xichen runs his hands up Jiang Cheng’s neck and slightly presses his thumbs into a spot between his ear and his jaw. Jiang Cheng groans. “You’re very tense. In a lot of places. Do you grind your teeth at night? Or clench them?”

“Maybe?”

Lan Xichen rests his hands on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders for a second, then sits down opposite of him again. Jiang Cheng immediately misses the warmth of his hands, which is ridiculous and he needs to get a grip.

“Alright, well, I think for the beginning we will be focusing on relaxing and loosening your muscles. So, massage, thermotherapy, some gentle stretches. I’ll also help you find things you can do at home to destress and relieve tension. Does that sound good?”

“Uhm, yes. It does.” Jiang Cheng kind of tuned out after Lan Xichen said ‘massage’, because… He has this dreadful feeling his schoolboy crush never went away and instead just laid dormant until right now. Which is so fucking inconvenient, of course it’s happening to Jiang Cheng. “Thank you, Lan-ge… uhm… Lan Xichen.”

How should he address him? Apparently, he’s sort of a family friend (Where and why did Jiejie even meet him? Why didn’t he ask?) but now he’s also taking care of Jiang Cheng in a professional, sort of medical sense...

Lan Xichen is, of course, not oblivious to his discomfort, but smiles and pours him some more tea. “Whatever you feel comfortable with. Laoshi is fine, too.”

Lan Xichen then goes through a few formalities with him. He informs him he’s being paid per session, not by the hour, so they’ll never have to hurry. They exchange phone numbers, in case someone needs to reschedule or Lan Xichen wants to send him some exercises or something. Jiang Cheng only smiles and nods and agrees. When Lan Xichen proposes they have the first session tomorrow afternoon, Jiang Cheng smiles and nods, too.

After, Lan Xichen escorts him to the door, wishes him a lovely evening, says he’s looking forward to their sessions and Jiang Cheng should remember to wear something comfortable. When he smiles again, Jiang Cheng almost walks into the door.

As soon as Jiang Cheng arrives home, he calls his sister.

“A-Cheng! How was it?”

“Uhm, fine, but that’s not why-”

“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“I… what? Why… why would you bring that up?” Jiang Cheng gives his phone a side-eye, even though his sister can’t see it.

“Well, it’s impossible to not notice. And he has such a lovely personality, too.” Jiang Yanli says this as casually as though she’s talking about the weather.

“Yes… I guess.” While both of those things are true, it’s unlike his sister to bring it up. Or at least, to bring it up so quickly and directly. “Jiejie, how do you know Lan Xichen again? Where did you meet?”

“Oh… he came over for tea recently.”

“And why did he do that?”

“Because I invited him.”

Well, his sister clearly is keeping something from him, something connected to his old-new crush and physical therapist and Jiang Cheng hates not being in the know when other people are clearly keeping secrets from him.

“How did you meet him? Why did you invite him? Why do you not want to tell me?”

“A-Cheng…”

Oh, of course. “Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Yanli sighs audibly, probably frowning in the way she always does when they skirt around the topic of him and Wei Wuxian not talking. “Yes. Lan Xichen is-”

“I don’t want to know!” Of course this has something to do with Wei Wuxian. Because he can’t have anything in his life without Wei Wuxian. Are they… they’re not dating or anything, right? That would just be… actually that would be fucking typical.

“Jiang Cheng!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Is his sister… getting cross with him???

“I just… he misses you.”

“Yeah? I don’t see any evidence of that!” His headache is back with a vengeance.

“Because you’re not looking. Because you’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t!” It’s rare for Jiang Yanli to raise her voice, and compared to Jiang Cheng, she still sounds gentle. But he can hear her frustration, hear how tiring this is for her, and… He sometimes forgets he and Wei Wuxian aren’t the only people who are involved in this. Who suffer.

“Then why doesn’t he call me? He obviously still has my number!”

“Why don’t you call him?”

Because he doesn’t want to call someone who doesn’t want him. Because he doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to come back because he feels pity or obligation. Because he’s scared Wei Wuxian would still not come back.

“He’s the one who left.”

“It’s been over a year. Can’t you… I’m so tired of holding louder than normal conversations with my husband in the kitchen while one of you is in the living room, so you know the other is okay without actually asking for it.”

“A-jie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I… It’s just… “ Great, now Jiang Cheng feels mad at Wei Wuxian, guilty for upsetting his sister, who should never be upset, and sad… because he misses his stupid brother, doesn’t he.

“I can’t force either of you to make the first step, but… you’re both suffering. A-Cheng, I just want you both to be happy.” Now she just sounds resigned. Fuck.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I promise.” If only because his sister deserves better than this - being stuck in the middle between them.

“Thank you. I love you, A-Cheng.”

“… Love you, too.”

“Now, tell me about your meeting today. Did you already get a massage?”

Right. Lan Xichen. “Jiejie… is Wei Wuxian dating Lan Xichen?”

Jiang Yanli laughs. “No. No, no. He’s dating his brother. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worrying! Just… wanted to know how you met.”

“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“Stop asking that! That’s not why I… you know what, I have to go. I have… university… stuff. Talk to you later!”

“Bye!”

He can hear his sister still laughing when he ends the call. Mortifying. Why did he have to ask?

Wei Wuxian is dating Lan Xichen’s brother… That’s… Why is the world so fucking tiny? He couldn’t have picked anyone else?

Not that it matters. It’s not like Jiang Cheng was ever gonna do anything about… Lan Xichen is attractive and nice and lovely, which is simply a fact. Like his sister said, it’s impossible to not notice. Doesn’t have to mean anything. Jiang Cheng will only concentrate on… being less tense and maybe having fewer headaches.

And maybe… thinking… about… contacting Wei Wuxian…

“He misses you.”

Jiang Cheng is not convinced.

But…

#Xicheng #mdzs #cql #the untamed #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen #background Wangxian #Modern AU #angst but not too angsty #they're also very soft #betty drabbles #To Meet You verse

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