Murder. Murder was definitely the best option.
Lan WangJi stepped towards him, placing his hand on Wei WuXian's shoulder. Wei WuXian glanced up at his husband. He was sure his eyes were glowing red. Fury surged through him. The poor messenger took a step backwards, though it wasn't his fault at all. Still, he was dealing with Wei WuXian, and even if society was now targeting Jin GaungYao's memory as the cause behind every rotten crop and rogue donkey, the rumors of the monstrous YiLing Patriarch lingered in memories. Especially in moments like these, when one look at Wei WuXian's face would tell you he would indeed very much like to unleash a hoard of corpses on a certain someone. But that someone was not this messenger.
"Can you tell us what happened?" WangJi asked, fingers tightening.
Wei WuXian let out his breath. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.
"Jin Ling survived an assassination attempt."
The moment those words were spoken, the wispy shadows dancing along the walls, prompted by flickering candlelight, transformed into grasping ghost hands and furious ghouls. Panic bit into Wei WuXian.
"I-I just know someone broke into his bedchamber," stammered the messenger. "And—and the young master told me to come here and—and tell you before you heard and came rushing over and made fools of yourselves, and he said to tell you that in those words exactly." The poor boy's shoulders slumped.
In spite of the situation, Wei WuXian let out a snort. He shook his head at his husband. WangJi's brows remained drawn together. "At least he hasn't lost his temperament."
"Someone probably tried to kill him for acting like a young mistress again," commented Lan JingYi. "Ow!" He clutched his shoulder.
Lan SiZhui had smacked him. He winced when WangJi's gaze fell on both of the boys. "My apologies. No matter what Jin Ling behaves like, that's terrible—he's the head of the Jin sect."
"Yes, and with the chaos, he's vulnerable," Wei WuXian mused. He clutched his forehead. And like it or not, the boy's personality hardly won him friends. Even if he was making progress. Progress was a slow climb, and somethings you got tired. Ask Wei WuXian; he would know.
It'd been six months since Jin GuangYao died, since the truth came out, since Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi married. And thanks to the reputation of Jin GuangYao's crimes, everyone was either expecting Jin Ling to be the good Jin spark amidst the snow, a shining bright yellow example since he was descended from a legal marriage as opposed to that disgusting rascal Jin GuangYao who crawled his way out of a brothel and muddied the Jin name, or they were expecting Jin Ling to be as rotten as his uncle, but concealed in a freshly painted coat.
It's too much for a boy his age. Wei WuXian swallowed. He thought of his brother, Jiang Cheng, when he'd become the leader of his sect too young, not much older than Jin Ling was now. "Is Jiang Cheng there?"
"Indeed. He wants to remove Jin Ling to Lotus Pier, but Jin Ling is—" The messenger twisted his hands. "Not having it."
It wouldn't be a good look, even if it was smart for his safety. Wei WuXian met WangJi's eyes. The people would surely say Jin Ling was merging more with his Jiang heritage from his mother, than the Jin sect was at risk of vanishing like the Wen sect, that they deserved to vanish after the tarnishing Jin GuangYao had said, and what was the life of one small boy if it meant the salvation of cultivators everywhere?
No one needed to study to excel in leaps of logic.
"What if we invited Young Master Jin to study here in the Cloud Recesses for a few weeks?" opined Lan WangJi.
Wei WuXian relaxed. People would still object, surely, but—it was less risky.
"Here?" squawked Lan JingYi, hopping to the side. "Ow! Stop kicking me, SiZhui!"
"I think it's a very wise idea, HanGuang-Jun," SiZhui said with a straight face. Firelight glowed orange over his cheeks. "We already night hunt with him, JingYi. Quite frequently."
"Yeah, but last time he called me a—" Lan JingYi saw WangJi's eyes narrowing and straightened. "Never mind."
"We should extend the invitation to Jiang Cheng as well," Wei WuXian pointed out, looking up at his husband. Because he'll be bitter if he thinks I'm doing it because I can protect Jin Ling better.
He couldn't protect him more, not really. And Jiang Cheng adored their nephew even if every other sentence out of his mouth was how much he was looking forward to breaking the kid's legs.
WangJi nodded. "JingYi, SiZhui, any more rudeness or violence and you'll be copying our sect's rules twice." He swept out of the room, Wei WuXian on his heels. They strode over the grounds. Two bunnies sniffed at their robes, darting around the grass and towards a tree.
Wei WuXian raced towards the rabbits, catching them. "Look, look—hey!" One of them bit his finger. He dropped them, holding his hand up. Red dribbled down. "I'm bleeding."
"Your fault," responded WangJi.
"Oh! So you choose a bunny over your husband?" Wei WuXian feigned offense. "Ah, WangJi, you cruel—" He shut up.
WangJi turned. Behind him, his uncle scowled at the both of them, disapproval seeping out of his very existence. Even the stars twinkling above dulled, as if not to offend the man's contented misery and self-righteousness.
"Uncle," WangJi greeted him.
Lan QiRen's scowl deepened, fists curling, the reminder that his protege had run off and married the world's villain who had no concept of discipline hitting him like a strike from a whip.
"We received word that—"
"About Young Master Jin? I heard."
"I believe it'd be wise to invite him to—"
"Visit his uncle?" Lan QiRen's eyes bored into Wei WuXian, who managed a sickeningly sweet smile. The man's hatred had never bothered him. Lan QiRen hated anything with dents in it which, unfortunately, was literally everyone.
"Train with SiZhui, JingYi, and our other disciples," WangJi stated, straightening as if to stand up even taller than he usually did. Wei WuXian shivered. WangJi looked even more magnificent, bathed in moonlight. "We might invite Jiang Cheng as well. It would show the cultivation world that the other sects do not see fault in the Jin sect as a whole, but merely in the person it belongs—"
"Very well," Lan Qiren said.
Wei WuXian blinked. The man had backed down rather easily, not even protesting that all the sects would be gathering in the Cloud Recesses for a discussion conference the next month. In all likelihood he hoped that having Jiang Cheng around might keep Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi quiet at night. Nice try, no chance. He clapped his hands together, rushing over to clasp WangJi's shoulder. "Thank you, Lan QiRen."
The man looked at him like a decaying snake.
"You do know what inviting Jin Ling here means," WangJi commented.
Wei WuXian frowned, standing on tiptoe. This new body was so frustrating sometimes, like when he had to peer up to meet his husband's eyes. "What?"
"Fairy will be coming along." WangJi regarded him.
Wei WuXian couldn't hold it back. Not even the threat of Lan QiRen was enough to compare to this level of fear. "Oh, fuck."
He's doing this to show me up.
Ha. As if. Jiang Cheng knew that wasn't the case, and the mere fact that it wasn't the case and that thought popped into his head anyways meant that he was, in fact, shown up. Without Wei WuXian even trying.
Fuck!
But they would go, of course. Because there was no better option, even considering Lotus Pier, and judging from the glower on Jin Ling's face, if he dragged the brat there his nephew would just run away anyways. Jin Ling did what he wanted. Then again, Jiang Cheng supposed he could. He was the leader of the Jin sect, after all.
When Jiang Cheng became leader of the Yunmeng Jiang sect he was desperate for someone, anyone, else. To tell him what to do, to show him, to listen to him even. And no one, not even Wei WuXian, was there.
Of course Wei WuXian wasn't there because of he'd given Jiang Cheng his golden core. Jiang Cheng's hand drifted towards his chest. He resented it. And yet, he needed it.
The conundrum chaining him to his brother all his life, dragging gratitude out of him when it was never demanded. I wish you had demanded it.
"We'll leave in the morning," Jiang Cheng said. "Keep Fairy with you." And set him on your other uncle if you can when we get there.
Fairy barked at hearing her name. She wagged her tail, trotting behind Jin Ling. She'd apparently bitten the people who broke into Jin Ling's bedroom, taking out one of their throats. It was a shame both of them had died, because that way they couldn't interrogate them, find out who really was behind it. Jiang Cheng sincerely doubted two servants of Jin GuangYao's were the masterminds. Then again, the whole scheme seemed so poorly planned out that who even knew anymore?
"And what would you do if I hadn't killed them?" Jin Ling had shot back. "Torture them like you used to torture everyone you thought was Wei WuXian?"
Brat. Jiang Cheng had no patience. Maybe it was good to be taking him to the Gusu Lan sect.
No. He wanted to be patient with him. He watched Jin Ling storm back to his room, Fairy on his heels.
You liked Jin GuangYao more.
And now you like Wei WuXian more.
And it's my own fault.
If only the fact that he knew that also fixed things. Instead it just made things worse. There wasn't really a way to dig yourself out of the Burial Mounds you'd thrown yourself into unless, of course, one was Wei WuXian, and Jiang Cheng, despite having his brother's golden core, was definitely not.
He heard whispers as he passed through the hallways at Koi Tower. Some whispered Jin GuangYao might have come back just like Wei WuXian had. Some murmured that maybe the person who hired those ragtag assassins was Wei WuXian, and maybe that was why Jiang Cheng was going to the Cloud Recesses—to question the Yiling Patriarch in person. Others added those were definitely Jiang Cheng's thoughts, but coated it with a sardonic laugh, implying they thought Jiang Cheng half-mad.
Was this how you felt, Wei WuXian? Jiang Cheng wondered, locking himself in his room. The air felt cold, and the fire in the fireplace had burned mostly to ash. Only a few embers glowed tangerine. They all fear me, and at the same time, they mock me.
I thought that was what I wanted, and—
Power was, as it turned out, about as comforting as a plate of dog shit after a day of hard work.
He slept with Zidian around his finger, and his other hand clasped around his finger. When he woke, he slipped into Jin Ling's room. Fairy bounded up to him, panting.
At least you're happy to see me. He scratched the dog behind the ears. "Let's go, Jin Ling."
Jin Ling yawned. "Whatever."
"Don't be so rude or I'll break your legs."
Jing Ling heaved Fairy into his arms. No small feat since Fairy appeared to hardly be missing out on meals. Jiang Cheng remembered always sneaking scraps of roast meat for his puppies, before his father gave them away.
They flew off on their swords. Jin Ling sighed. "Why does it take so long to get there?"
"Complain again and I will turn these swords around," Jiang Cheng responded.
Jin Ling ignored him. He looked so much like his father. But when he laughed—rare for Jiang Cheng to hear—he sounded like his mother.
I miss you, Shijie. But I'll keep him safe. I promise.
They landed in the Cloud Recesses. They'd have to get jade tokens to allow them passage in and out. Jin Ling's lips curled as he took in the four thousand rules carved into the rocks, proclaiming the Gusu Lan sect's righteousness and shaming everyone else. Bragging rights forever embedded in their headquarters. Not that it kept them from getting burned down once, but it wasn't like Jiang Cheng could judge a place by having been burned down once.
He hated the smell of smoke to this day.
The sun broiled overhead as they entered. Jiang Cheng had taken two steps before he heard Jin Ling shriek, and then Wei WuXian screamed.
He'd gone to hug Jin Ling. And then Fairy jumped at him, friendly. But Wei WuXian cowered behind his—well—his husband.
Husband. Someone who committed to him for life. Life.
"Lan WangJi," Jiang Cheng ground out.
"Fairy!" howled another voice.
"Jin Ling!" exclaimed a third. Those two disciples appeared, one of them running unceremoniously towards Fairy and grasping the dog in a huge hug, and the other smiling politely at Jin Ling.
"Now Fairy is preoccupied, so please grace us with your presence," said Jiang Cheng sourly.
Wei WuXian looked skeptical, peeking out from behind Lan WangJi's shoulder. "I'm glad to hear you're both okay."
"I wasn't at risk."
"But you went to save him. That's—"
"My duty as his uncle."
Lan WangJi's eyes narrowed. Jiang Cheng swallowed. It wasn't that he was intending to be so rude. He just—he just—
I've fallen and I can't get up. I don't have your talent, brother.
"I don't think the threat is—dealt with," Jiang Cheng said, changing the subject. "Though whoever set it up clearly wasn't very intelligent."
Lan WangJi nodded. "We agree."
We. Of course. The two of them. Married. Together. Two men, married, together, happy, sleeping in one bed, married.
Despite the sun and the warmth of the cup of tea soon ushered into his hand by Wei WuXian as the three disciples ran off to chase rabbits with Fairy, Jiang Cheng still felt cold.
"I see," commented his brother.
Lan WangJi sighed, pushing his cup of tea away from him. Jiang Cheng had gone to speak with Lan QiRen, and Wei WuXian was off chasing rabbits with the kids—or more likely, planning some kind of night hunt. Lan WangJi was not as dense as he might seem. "I hope we're able to figure it out soon."
"You will," assured Lan XiChen.
Lan WangJi slid his eyes around the room. It was devoid of cheer, devoid of his brother. It reminded him of how his father lived in his seclusion.
He never saw the man laugh. So Lan WangJi swallowed his laughter too, until Wei WuXian helped him remember it. He never saw the man break a rule, so he kept them until he learned the man had loved one who broke a fundamental one. His father punished himself all his life, and Lan WangJi followed in his steps, atoning for what, he didn't know, and never lightening his father's burden. Nor his mother's.
He did not want Lan XiChen to follow that same path. Because Lan XiChen smiled.
He was the only one who did, after Mother died. And while Lan WangJi never did, he found comfort in those laughs.
What happened with Jin GuangYao was not your fault.
But it wasn't so simple, was it?
"You're thinking of Father, or Mother?" questioned Lan XiChen. He shifted on the bamboo mat he sat on, crossing his legs.
"Both," Lan WangJi replied. He could never hide anything from Lan XiChen. He was a language only Lan XiChen was able to read. And Wei WuXian, now.
Lan XiChen almost smiled then. Lan WangJi watched. "I suppose both of us are more like both of them than Uncle would have liked."
Mother was a murderer.
Mother was their mother. She kissed him, she held him, she wanted to raise him, she played games with him, she read to him, she teased him even when he didn't know how to laugh. He knew she loved him, she and Lan XiChen. And when she was gone, he focused on trying to make Lan QiRen and his father focus on him, love him too, even if he never acted like it. If he was good enough.
Until Wei WuXian showed up and changed everything.
"You're happy," commented Lan XiChen.
Lan WangJi nodded. "I'm married." His words came soft. He wouldn't say this with anyone else. He was married, and every day Wei WuXian reminded him of this fact. Every night, they slept in each other's arms. Every day, he was loved, and he got to love.
"You deserve this kind of happiness, Lan Zhan," said his brother, reaching out and clasping his wrist. "You and Wei WuXian. No matter what Uncle says or does. As it turns out, you were not the one who was close with a rabid murderer after all."
"He did murder," replied Lan WangJi.
"It was more Jin GuangYao's fault." Lan XiChen closed his eyes. Outside, the light from the windows dulled to a mauve with magenta tips. "Will Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng survive under one roof? Or, more accurately, will the Cloud Recesses burn down again? I'm afraid I don't want to be living in the woods again." A joke.
Jin GuangYao helped you when you ran. Lan WangJi shook his head. "Jiang Cheng does not hate Wei Ying."
"I know." Lan XiChen sighed. "I'm not sure he knows that, though."
"Wei Ying does."
"I meant Jiang Cheng." Lan XiChen rubbed his chin. "Ah, what am I saying? I'm the least likely person to be able to give solid advice or insight right now. I'm supposed to be concentrating on my own—"
"How 'dreadfully boring,'" said Lan WangJi. "According to my husband."
His brother arched an eyebrow. "You like saying that. 'My husband.'"
"Mnn." He couldn't deny it.
Lan XiChen laughed. "I'm glad. But, in truth, I just think of Father and Mother constantly."
"Did she ever tell you what she felt?" The question burst out before he could consider how rude it might appear.
Lan XiChen frowned. "No. I wonder. Often."
Did she feel guilty, for the life she'd taken?
Did Father feel guilty for loving her? For fathering two sons?
Did he wish they didn't exist? Did he wish he'd killed her? Did he wish he didn't love her? Or did he just accept?
Lan WangJi never once felt guilty for loving Wei WuXian. Except when he was first coming to terms with how he felt, long before Wei WuXian became the grandmaster of demonic cultivation.
"I miss them," admitted Lan XiChen, and Lan WangJi opened his mouth to agree, and then realized he wasn't sure whether XiChen was talking about their parents, or about Nie MingJue and Jin GuangYao, his sworn brothers who'd killed each other.
Perhaps it didn't matter.
Lan XiChen sat in silence, Lan WangJi with him, counting his heartbeats. The sky outside turned dark, and still no one moved to light a candle.
Lan WangJi knew the feeling well. Moving would be to acknowledge one was still alive, still able to move, able to do something, but not able to save the ones that mattered most. He'd felt it for so many years after returning from the Burial Mounds. But at least he had SiZhui, Wen Yuan, Lan Yuan, to raise.
Maybe they should encourage the disciples to converse with XiChen. Lan WangJi resolved to mention it to Wei WuXian.
"Is it hard to trust?" Lan WangJi inquired.
Lan XiChen's lips curved. "Not you."
There are things you'd like to ask them. But there was no way to ask his brothers. And no way to ask their parents either.
And yet, Lan WangJi had long since learned burying the dead did nothing to stop the questions, the whispers, the hope from seeping out, infecting the living. The things more powerful than resentful energy, because the dead never stayed buried for long, even if they did not turn into spirits like A-Qing or return like Wei WuXian.