#like... idk what the morla of this story is supposed to be

[drwcn]

discordance!verse part 5: after five months of being presumed dead, Lan Xichen returns home to Cloud Recesses. In his absence however, his widowed husband We Wuxian and his younger brother Lan Wangji may have gotten closer than they should have... 

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

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis]  OR

see [discordance navigation page] for all installments  

(9 weeks before the whipping in part 1,2)

Jingshi is Lan Wangji’s Jingshi once again.

Within half a day, the disciples have moved his belongings back to his previous lodging and returned Wei Ying’s to Hanshi, the house he will be sharing with his husband tonight and all the nights to come.

Within half a day, Lan Wangji’s world has been upturned. Again. Numbly, he steps into the vestibule and stood there in the dark, taking in the shadows and shapes of the windows and pillars, of the furniture and drapes.

Hadn’t there been a pot of orchids on the table? Hadn’t there been a string of little paper men hanging by the bed? Hadn’t Wei Ying’s favourite charcoal grey outer robe been draped over the clothing rack? He is sure he’d seen it just this very morning when he left to sneak back to hanshi.

Lan Wangji scans the room, trying desperately to find a trace of evidence that Wei Ying had ever been there, but he finds none. He doesn’t know when he had started associating Jingshi – the silent room – with Wei Ying’s laughter, with the smell of spilled ink on parchment, with unmade bedding left rumpled in the aftermath of their coupling.

It is as though nothing has changed. This is his house, the house that carried the memories of his childhood, the memories of his mother, his sancta sanctorum, his refuge. Even without light, Lan Wangji can tell that it is exactly as he remembers it. Every edge, every curve, every blurry form in the dark is exactly as he prefers it.

Jingshi is still his house, but without Wei Ying, it is no longer his home.

This Jingshi feels displaced, out of time, a remnant of the past that haunts him. This Jingshi belongs to the Lan Wangji before he moved to hanshi, before life thrust upon him responsibilities he didn’t think he’d ever have to shoulder, before circumstances unlocked the desires behind his inhibitions and allowed his demons to whisper in his ears that he could have more, that he could want more, that he could seek and take and claim...

But Hanshi was never his. And Wei Ying was never his.

The news came at a quarter past noon. Zewu-jun is alive, exclaimed the disciples, running amok through Cloud Recesses, throwing rules and cautions to the wind. He has come home!

Lan Wangji ran too, all the way from the Library Pavilion where he had been reviewing reports with senior disciples to Uncle’s study.

He dashed through the doors of the courtyard, skidding around the corner, and the first thing he saw was Uncle, whose wide smile and wet eyes were enough to make him stop abruptly in his track. Beside him, he saw the object of Lan Qiren’s joy. The shape of his brother’s tall frame and wide back was such a familiar sight, engrained so vividly into his boyhood memories that he did not need Lan Xichen to turn around to know right away that the disciples had spoken the truth.

His xiongzhang is alive, his xiongzhang has come back!!

But then… over the paralyzing vacuum of his dizzying elation, Lan Wangji had realized that his brother was slightly hunched over, hugging someone. Over Lan Xichen’s shoulder, he found Wei Ying’s wide eyes staring into his.

It should be a crime, thinks Lan Wangji, that such a joyous blessed gift – his brother! Alive! – could wrought such horrible, heart-wrenching pain.

To see Wei Ying in his brother’s arms when barely hours ago he had been in his is akin to being tossed to the highest cloud in the heavens and let fall into the deepest pit of hell.

Lan Wangji hates himself, is absolutely disgusted with himself.

I must be the most deplorable person in the world, he curses silently and doesn’t understand where his decency has gone. How he could be anything less than grateful that the universe has shown mercy and returned his beloved brother back to Cloud Recesses?

They ate dinner together, a family reunited. Over the most indulgent meal the kitchen was allowed to offer and Gusu’s finest tea, the three of them listened to Lan Xichen recount his last five months, and through his narration, tried to piece together what Jin Guangshan had plotted to do.

Uncle was so overjoyed by it all that he even called Wei Ying “A-Xian” accidentally. Wei Ying’s jaws dropped open, and Lan Xichen laughed, but in his seat beside his brother, Lan Wangji felt as though he was being slowly seared on a low burning fire.

It took everything he had to school his face into the “reserved but pleased” expression that he knew he should be feeling. So many times, he was sure he would give himself away because xiongzhang could read him better than anyone. Yet, Lan Xichen seemed oddly distracted, like he was keeping in more details and thoughts than he was sharing with them. More than once, his warm eyes appeared glazed over, distant, as though it was only his physical body that returned and not his soul. 

Lan Wangji did not have the capacity to ponder on what could possibly be the cause of this. He was just relieved that his brother couldn’t detect his internal turmoil from his face and realize that his little brother deflowered his widowed husband just months after his supposed death…

The hours went by; shen-shi turned to you-shi, you-shi pushed to xu-shi, and as the night drew closer and closer to hai-shi, the anxiety which gradually built up inside him threatened to explode.

Lan Wangji kept the conversation going, terrified what would happen if they were dismissed for the night. It wasn’t a difficult task, for indeed he had so many questions. Eventually, however, Uncle announced that they should continue this discussion at another time. Rising from his seat, he ushered them out of his study and bid them to rest for the evening.

Or rather, he bid Wangji to rest. To Xichen and Wei Wuxian, Lan Qiren said with an uncharacteristically soft look in his eyes,

“Xichen, your absence has been hard on the family, but especially on Wuxian. Take some time to yourselves and be reacquainted. The rest can wait. It’s been a rough half a year.”

Reacquainted.

Teased by their uncle’s words, Wei Ying lowered his face and hid his blush. An appropriate response, for Lan Qiren actually chuckled – chuckled –  and nodded approvingly when Lan Xichen took Wei Wuxian by the hand and strolled with him back to their residence.

Lan Wangji watched them go, rooted to the spot, his mind screaming for Wei Ying to look at him, give him a sign, tell him to put a stop this.

But Wei Ying did not look at him.

No, and why would he? His husband was back, the husband he had very much enjoyed being married to -

“You know, when Madam Yu said she was going to marry me off, I was afraid she’d find someone the likes of The Peacock or worse – barf – Jin Zixun, but thank god it’s Zewu-jun. I mean… he is ranked number one in our generation. I didn’t even dare to hope for such a good match. I know, I know Lan Zhan, you don’t think I’m good enough for your brother, you don’t have to keep glaring at me like that. I’ll be a good husband, I’ll love him to my very, very best ability. I promise! I swear!”

- the husband whose attention he’d spent months agonizing over how to catch -

“I don’t understand why he won’t sleep with me, Lan Zhan! It’s been weeks since the wedding! Look here, be straight with me Lan Zhan: I’m attractive, right? Pretty, one could even say? If you were my husband, you’d want to sleep with me, right?!”

- the husband he’d almost succeeded in seducing that day at the Cold Pond had Lan Wangji not given in to his maddening selfishness and spoiled the moment.

Wei Ying’s torn inner robe floating on the water, xiongzhan’s disgarded clothes on the shore, two bodies entwined together in the mist.   

Lan Wangji opens his eyes – when did he close them? – and finds himself alone in the darkened Jingshi once again. There’s no Wei Ying.

Wei Ying is gone.

Woodenly, he walks to his empty bed and lies down on it. The disciples had forgotten to change the bedding and the sheets, which they’d slept in together last night and made love on this morning.

Was it really this morning? Surely, surely a lifetime has come and gone. But Wei Ying’s scent is still there, faint, lingering, and if he closes his eyes and imagine it, he could still hear his own name whispered breathily against his ear.

Lan Zhan.

In all their time together, Lan Wangji has never asked Wei Wuxian which of two Jades of Gusu he preferred better: himself or his brother. He wondered, but he never asked. Asking would be tasteless and cruel, not to mention inappropriate. Lan Xichen had meant something significant to the both of them, and Wei Ying is entitled to his past, his feelings, and he owes Lan Wangji nothing.

What matters is the future that awaits us, Lan Wangji used to muse on the nights he lay awake remembering the brother he lost, with Wei Ying asleep peacefully curled at his side. We will discover the truth and bring xiongzhang’s killer to justice. Avenge him. Put his soul to rest.

And then…and then they will live. Even if Uncle and the Elders never allow them to marry, he and Wei Ying will have each other, and that would be enough.

Those were his dreams, and this, this is just awakening.

Lan Wangji can’t sleep, too afraid to close his eyes again. Uncle’s words turn and turn and turn in his head: reacquainted reacquainted reacquainted. He’s not so naïve that he doesn’t know what Lan Qiren was hinting at.

Memories of the Cold Pond come rushing back in suffocating torrents of sounds and images, and Lan Wangji is drowning. Drowning because he remembers Xichen's teeth biting into Wei Ying's shoulder, Wei Ying's bare back under his brother’s large hands, his whines and moans as Xichen pressed him against the stone edge and -

Lan Wangji yanks his blankets to the side and shoots up from bed, the back of his neck clammy and his eyes stinging. He wonders if he goes barging into Hanshi right now if he would be too late to stop them, or if he would see Wei Ying's legs wound around Xichen's waist again, if this time... they'll finish what they started.

His imagination draws up an explicit image and he could hear Wei Ying's breathless voice murmuring another's name.

Lan Huan.

Lan Wangji almost doesn't make it to the wash basin before he vomits up his dinner.

Please, please don’t take him from me. The gods must be laughing now, laughing and judging. He’s committed a horrible sin and this is just his punishment. 

Everyone at Cloud Recesses thinks their Hanguang-jun is strong, untouchable, one step away from the enlightened state of immortality, but Lan Wangji is not a god. He is just a man, and even the strongest man has his breaking point. And this may just be his own.

When his stomach has nothing left to retch up but stomach acid, Lan Wangji forces himself to return to bed. But instead of lying back down again, he lifts the floorboard underneath and pulls out a jug of Emperor's Smile. It’s supposed to be Wei Ying's; they'd smuggled it in after a night-hunt because Wei Ying had begged, batted his eyes at him very prettily and called him his "Lan-er-gege."

Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.

Yes, well, so is fucking one’s brother/sect master’s husband. Lan Wangji laughs bitterly. He’s never understood Wei Ying’s preference for drink, but he knows there is no way he will survive tonight sober.

Lan Wangji uncorks the bottle and downs the content in one go.

What happens afterwards is anybody's guess.

~

[part 6]

*this was originally gonna include wwx and lxc’s side too, but it got too long. I’m posting that one separately today or tomorrow :)*    

#discordance #discau #cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen #i have no regrets #although i both want to pat lwj on the back and laugh in his face #like... idk what the morla of this story is supposed to be #wait more than 5 months after your brother dies to sleep with his widower #don't sleep with his widowers #lwj you're screwed #i meant technically - you're not being screwed anymore but #semantics #corie fics