the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Twelve
Lan Wangji keeps watch over Wei Ying after Xichen's departure, meditating and playing gentle melodies on the guqin, at first while A-Yuan naps beside him and then afterward. The child did not want to leave, a desire he empathizes with, but Wen Qing insisted—he knows likely the Wens will discuss the child's new relationship with Wei Ying.
At first Wei Ying is as still in sleep as he was after the end of the war, during those days of worry, which tells Lan Wangji just how much the episode exhausted him. Within hours, though, he shifts in his sleep, brow furrowing, and he plays 'Cleansing' for him, hoping to remove any remnants the spirit may have left, followed by 'Rest,' and he settles.
A few hours later, Wen Ning brings a tray of food and a small table for him to use for his meal.
"I will bring more food for Wei-gongzi after you eat, Lan-er-gongzi."
His tone, oddly, brooks no argument though he knows the younger of the Wen siblings is generally shy and timid—but so, Lan Wangji ruminates, is Jiang Yanli, and her ferocious side had come out in the Phoenix Mountain hunt against Jin Zixun, in defense of Wei Ying.
For all that Wei Ying has been unprotected these past months, he has people who care about him, people who can be organized.
Lan Wangji has no talent for this; his strengths lay in being a sword, cutting through any who might bring harm. But Xichen has a talent for organizing, and in having brought him in, perhaps he has already ensured more can be done.
Wen Ning, in his insistence that Lan Wangji eat, is doing what he can on his part—telling him via action he must keep his strength if he is to protect Wei Ying. It is a language of silence and gesture he is well-acquainted with, and a message he cannot disagree with.
Wen Qing and A-Yuan accompany Wen Ning with Wei Ying's tray of food. A-Yuan immediately climbs on the bed, but is careful near Wei Ying, clearly aware he is injured. Lan Wangji can only guess it is one of many things discussed with the boy.
"A-Yuan ate dinner," Wen Qing tells him as Wen Ning takes Lan Wangji's tray. "And there's also another bowl of medicine on the tray. It will help relax his muscles and ease his pain, so he might sleep again—and he needs that."
He agreed with that; Wei Ying was already in questionable shape, exhausted and malnourished, when Lan Wangji arrived at Burial Mounds. The attempted possession only added injury to his problems. He remembers reading that most healing is done during sleep, and hopes to encourage his zhiji to rest.
She checks Wei Ying on the bed, but doesn't wake him.
"I'm making a salve to ease his muscles. I'm low on beeswax so it won't be as firm as I'd usually make, but you'll just need to rub it in better tonight—I'll have A-Ning pick some up at the market tomorrow."
Lan Wangji nods, surprised she won't be applying it herself.
"I'll show you how once it's ready, but it's a bit intimate," she says, and he feels his ears heat. "Which means it's a job for his husband."
Wen Qing sits on the bed beside Wei Ying and pats his shoulder gently. He stirs, murmuring, but stills again until she pats him a few more times. A-Yuan joins in, gently patting as well, and Wei Ying eventually blinks at them blearily.
"Qing-jie? A-Yuan?"
There is confusion in his voice and he makes an aborted attempt to sit, falling back with a hiss and a grimace.
"Right. Resentful ghost," he mutters. "Zewu-Jun left."
"It's time for dinner and more medicine," Wen Qing tells him. "Later I'll have a salve that may help, too."
"I'll go to town early tomorrow, Wei-gongzi," Wen Ning says. "A proper bath will help you."
Wei Ying nods tiredly.
"Take the cart," he says. "Buy more than one. Popo, at least, should have one too."
"Worry about yourself for once, Wei Wuxian. Let someone else handle the rest.
Wen Qing's smile is fond, as she clearly appreciates his care for her family, though her words seem harsh.
"You've done too much the last few days, and that possession was the final straw for your body. You're doing nothing but sleeping and eating the next few days, doctor's orders."
"Aiya, how boring. Lan Zhan, save me!"
"A-die rest and eat. A-die too skinny," A-Yuan weighs in, and Wei Ying's playful expression wanes.
Lan Wangji doesn't understand his reaction; he had so convincingly claimed to have birthed the boy in town, but faced with being called a-die and Wen Qing's blessing to adopt, he seems hesitant now that it's real.
"The others have given their blessing, Wei-gongzi," Wen Ning says, smiling as widely as he is able. "We explained it to him."
"A-Yuan is Wei Yuan," the boy adds, nodding. "Like a-die."
"You're sure this is what you want?" Wei Ying asks.
There is an uncertainty to his voice, a hesitance in his eyes that makes Lan Wangji's chest tighten. Wen Qing pokes at his nose, frowning at him.
"Yes. Be happy about it. Keep on with what you've been doing with him. Now you're just his dad."
Wei Ying looks away and nods.
"Xian-gege wants to be a-die?" A-Yuan asks, his voice now as uncertain as Wei Ying's was, and a look of panic passes over Wei Ying's face.
"How can Xian-gege be worthy of being a-die to such a sweet little radish?" he says, his voice teasing but his smile forced.
So his hesitance was, as Lan Wangji had suspected, borne of his lack of self-worth. The idea that Wei Ying feels he must constantly prove he has worth is heartbreaking, but one he knows has defined his husband's entire life. He wonders if even the times when Wei Ying has seemed arrogant were simply overcompensation, a sort of pretense in the face of those who have assumed he has no worth, the arrogance just a mask.
A-Yuan frowns at Wei Ying, managing to look as exasperated as a child that young possibly can.
"A-die rescued A-Yuan and popo and gugu and everyone from the bad gold men. A-die helped shushu!"
The child's voice is adorably earnest in a scolding way, but Wei Ying still looks troubled. He hates that his zhiji thinks so little of himself.
"Wei Ying is Wei Ying. Wei Ying is worthy," Lan Wangji asserts.
"Mn!" A-Yuan agrees with a nod.
"Listen to your husband, you idiot," Wen Qing says brusquely, though her brow is furrowed in concern. "And you had better eat everything on that tray."
With that, she leaves the room. Wen Ning hesitates to follow.
"Wei-gongzi," he says hesitantly. "You don't need to p-prove your worth to anyone. You j-just are."
He bows before shuffling out, leaving A-Yuan in their care and Wei Ying staring after him.
Lan Wangji moves the table with the tray closer to the bed and settles beside Wei Ying. He requires some aid sitting, his muscles trembling slightly as Lan Wangji helps ease him into a comfortable position. The need for help clearly frustrates him, but he doesn't comment. Instead his gray eyes are stormy, his jaw clenched.
He is able to eat most of the meal himself, though his motions are shaky, his muscles clearly strained from the effort. A-Yuan babbles about the day, telling them about the dyeing he had witnessed and "helped" with, showing his hands, which are stained different colors.
Eventually Wei Ying grimaces in pain and one chopstick slides from his fingers as he tries to lift a bite to his mouth. Thankfully the food lands back in his bowl, and Lan Wangji helps him eat what little remains.
"Ah, I'm sure you didn't expect to have to care for me like an invalid, Lan Zhan," he says when they're finished, avoiding his gaze.
It's close to an apology, and Lan Wangji frowns at him in reproach.
"You would do the same for me," he counters. "Between us, there is no need for thank you or apology."
Wei Ying glances up at him, and his smile for a moment warms before he twitches and it disappears under a wince. Lan Wangji sets the empty bowl aside in favor of the bowl of medicine and helps hold it so he can drink; he feels helpless to do anything else.
"Don't look like that," Wei Ying murmurs, startling him. "It was better I fought her."
Lan Wangji hates the reminder that his husband was nearly possessed, but he nods and helps Wei Ying lie back down, covering him again with the blanket. A-Yuan had been so close to him during the attack—of course Wei Ying would fight to protect him, if not for his own sake.
"Gugu's medicine will help!" A-Yuan chimes in, blessedly only aware that Wei Ying is hurt, not the cause. "A-die go back to sleep?"
Lan Wangji wonders if the ease with which A-Yuan has switched to calling Wei Ying 'a-die' so consistently is an indication he's been thinking it for longer.
"Probably, my little radish. I'm boring tonight."
"Not boring. Hurt," A-Yuan says with a frown.
Wei Ying laughs shortly, then winces again.
"Ah, I only mean I don't get to play with you tonight."
"Get better, then play," A-Yuan insists.
"Aiya, how did I wind up with such a considerate child? You're sure he isn't your son, Lan Zhan?"
A-Yuan is starting to look upset.
"Wei Ying, don't tease," Lan Wangji scolds gently.
His husband seems to see A-Yuan's frown, and he reaches out to take the boy's hand.
"I'm sorry for teasing, A-Yuan. I know you were scared today, but I'll get better. Lan Zhan and your gugu will make sure of it."
A-Yuan's response is to carefully snuggle close, clearly mollified by the apology. Wei Ying seems to have zeroed in on the boy's main issue: the fear he'd had for him when he was under attack.
"He won't be attacked while asleep again," Lan Wangji adds, pointing to the talisman. "This will prevent it."
"Ohhhh. Rich-gege's gege did that," A-Yuan recalls. "Is Pretty-gege coming back?"
Lan Wangji nods, though he watches Wei Ying; Xichen would return following his shijie's wedding. He knows his husband is upset he will miss it. But Wei Ying doesn't react, his eyelids already drooping again. His sleep will hopefully be healing.
When he moves to rise, intending to settle on the cave floor to play his guqin, Wei Ying grasps his sleeve.
"Stay?" he asks softly.
Lan Wangji would deny his husband nothing, certainly not a request so small; he can play for him later, healing songs that may help even without a golden core. After all, infusing songs with his own spiritual energy had helped Wei Ying after the war.
He settles back on the bed, sitting near the headboard, and takes Wei Ying's hand in his own, caressing the back with his thumb. Wei Ying tilts his head, leaning it against Lan Wangji's thigh in a casual intimacy he has come to welcome.
"I will stay. Rest."
Wei Ying smiles at him, and he decides to hum 'WuJi' for him, to help ease him into sleep. If nothing else, perhaps the song will stave off nightmares. He is asleep by the time he's finished, breathing even and deep.
A-Yuan watches quietly from where he's snuggled against Wei Ying's side.
"A-die will be okay?" he asks quietly, his voice tremulous.
"He will," Lan Wangji says, hoping he sounds reassuring. "He will recover."
The child quiets, watching Wei Ying. Lan Wangji wonders how many others he watched get hurt or ill at the labor camp, how many he saw die. The horrors A-Yuan was exposed to so young must make him fear all the more for Wei Ying.
"Wei Ying is strong," he tells the boy softly. "Wen Qing and I will make sure he gets better."
A-Yuan nods, accepting that, then busies himself tracing the blanket's embroidery with his fingers.
This amuses him until popo shuffles into the cave to retrieve him for a bath. He goes without fuss.
Wen Ning comes to take the tray, bringing with him his qiankun pouch.
"I p-put the old bedding and Wei-gongzi's clothing in there for you," he said. "I hope you don't mind."
Lan Wangji shakes his head. With everything that had occurred during the day, he had not considered that their belongings were in another part of the cave still.
"Thank you."
Wen Ning moves the table closer to him, and offers a weak smile.
"In case you want to play for him."
Lan Wangji bows his head in thanks; Wen Ning, sentient raised corpse or not, is perhaps as caring as his brother, someone who feels for the world. As caring, perhaps, as Wei Ying.
"Songs of healing, when I infuse them with my qi, helped him recover after the fall of Nightless City," he says. "I hope they will help now."
Wen Ning cocks his head, clearly interested. He was, in life, an expressive youth, Lan Wangji remembers from Cloud Recesses. Now, his facial expressions are stiff; others might find that difficult, as many rely on such to interpret emotions and meaning. Lan Wangji has never been terribly expressive, and so it does not bother him—there are other cues to pick up on.
"I d-don't know if jiejie knows about that. Together you could find a way to maximize t-treatment."
Though the youth's voice is hesitant, his intelligence shines through. Though many might see Wen Ning as weak, his awareness of others' strengths is in itself a strength. He has the ability to see connections others may not.
Lan Wangji hadn't considered that Wen Qing might not be aware of what it took for Wei Ying to wake after the final battle, may not even be aware that he fell unconscious and lay in a coma for days. Truly, that knowledge may be of use to her, to them. Wen Ning's suggestion could enable them to use qi to boost Wei Ying's health even with his lack of a golden core.
"I will tell her," he murmurs, lost in thought. "Thank you."
Wen Ning's smile at his gratitude is slight, but would likely be almost a grin if he still had finer motor control. Lan Wangji wonders if perhaps there could be a remedy for that, as well, if he works with Wen Qing and perhaps Wei Ying.
He manifests his guqin and begins to work through a medley of healing songs, infusing his qi into each note, concentrating on directing it toward Wei Ying as much as possible. He knows 'Clarity' is of value, but he is in need of healing more than cleansing now. He is vaguely aware of Wen Ning entering and leaving again, several times, but gives it no thought, too focused on his task.
Time passes, only noticeable in the shifts from song to song. Lan Wangji does not pause when Wen Qing enters, finishing the notes to the song before transferring his attention to her.
She looks thoughtful, and he wonders if Wen Ning has already spoken with her; he would not begrudge him if he has—all of them care about Wei Ying's health.
"Wei Wuxian won't like my suggestion. He hates needles, you know."
Lan Wangji inclines his head to show his attention, his suspicions confirmed. Wen Ning has spoken to her, and she has come to assess the options.
"Acupuncture. The music, carrying qi, could resonate through the needles into his muscles more efficiently. A Tǔfān Bön medical technique uses the resonance of bowls made of a specific mix of the seven sacred metals, or sometimes quartz, but we don't have the resources for that…"
Wen Qing trails off, clearly deep in thought, and then sighs.
"But silver needles should do the trick. Infusions of qi will help his muscles now, and later… It's possible the damage of the resentful energy could be undone."
Hope surges through Lan Wangji, and he tries to temper it.
"Explain," he requests.
"I don't want to get his hopes up, or yours. I recall reading that the resonance of singing bowls can help clear energy blockages, and can even aid in the breakdown of scar tissue."
Lan Wangji can't stop himself from inhaling sharply, remembering Wen Qing's comment, his first night here, about the probability that Wei Ying would be prevented from forming a new golden core due to scar tissue.
"His scarring is… extensive," she clarifies. "When Wen Chao had him beaten, the sutures from the core transfer surgery tore. He could do little to fix them trapped as he was in Burial Mounds. I don't have access to the materials I would need in order to research even the possibility. Not here. I'd rather not even tell him the possibility until it's more concrete."
So even the possibility is still out of reach, he realizes, still just a distant hope. Though tantalizing, they must reach for what is currently possible, and shelve what is not.
"But for now acupuncture and musical cultivation could help him heal," Lan Wangji offers, letting out a breath.
Wen Qing nods, lips pursed thoughtfully as she watches Wei Ying sleep. There's a sort of fire in her eyes, what looks like the spark of dawning hope.
"Your music likely already helped some. Tomorrow, we can try to amplify it."
She crooks a small smile.
"This is potentially a medical breakthrough, I hope you realize. The ramifications…"
Lan Wangji cares little for the larger ramifications, he realizes, only for how it could help Wei Ying. How it might save him. He knows this is selfish, but it is nonetheless the truth. He trusts that Wen Qing will consider the larger ramifications.
"Perhaps it could help Wen Ning gain more control of his fine motor functions," he offers, as much of an apology for his selfishness as he can.
Her head snaps to him, and her smile grows.
"That," she says, "is genius. Once Wei Wuxian is healthier, I'm sure he would be willing to help."
He bows his head in thanks. Wen Qing gestures to the other side of the bed, at a table he assumes Wen Ning brought in while he was engrossed in the music. A basin of water and stack of rags are atop it, as well as a large jar.
"I finished the salve. Topicals aren't always as effective as oral medicines, but they can be more locally applied. They can work in tandem with oral medicines as well, which is the goal here."
Wen Qing gestures toward his guqin and he dismisses it. She moves the jar to the closer table.
"Unrelieved pain inhibits healing, so we're just trying to ease it so his body isn't straining trying to do both. He's already weakened by malnutrition, though that will hopefully get better with time."
She is gentle in waking Wei Ying, just as she was earlier. This time, however, he wakes with a startled jerk as soon as she touches him.
"Wei Ying?"
His eyes focus almost immediately, and the bit of panic that had been in them ebbs.
"Dreaming," he murmurs. "Startled me."
Lan Wangji knows well enough that Wei Ying hides the truth or obfuscates, but he doesn't pursue it, only brushes the back of his fingers against his forehead in a gesture he hopes will offer comfort.
"I made that salve," Wen Qing says, her clipped tone betraying her concern.
Wei Ying shifts, then blinks in surprise.
"It doesn't hurt as much."
He sounds much like he did back in Qishan after Lan Wangji had played 'Cleansing' for him when he first woke, surprised that he could feel better. Knowing what he knows now, it should have been a clue.
"Your husband played healing music for you. We'll try more of that tomorrow, too. For now, strip."
The order receives token complaints from Wei Ying, but he still needs help sitting up even if he does feel better. He pulls his belt off and opens his outer robe, then glances at Wen Qing.
"Not all the way, right?"
She rolls her eyes.
"Just robes and undershirt. The rest your husband can take care of."
Wei Ying blushes. Wen Qing snorts.
"Please, like we all don't know what you two have been up to every night."
Lan Wangji feels his ears heat, particularly when Wei Ying catches his eye and he realizes his blush isn't from embarrassment but desire.
Wen Qing seems to have the same realization.
"Wait until after I'm gone, please."
Wei Ying smiles, not looking the least bit contrite.
"Yes, Qing-jie," he chirps.
She helps him shrug off his inner robe, then unties his zhong yi shirt and opens it. Wei Ying, Lan Wangji notices, shivers slightly in the cool air of the cave.
Wen Qing uses acupressure on his chest, clearly evaluating.
"Better than earlier," she says. "The music helps. Lan Wangji and I will experiment with a combination of that and acupuncture tomorrow."
Wei Ying makes a face.
"Needles? I hate needles."
"It may be a technique that can be reworked to help Wen Ning gain better control of his finer motor functions," Lan Wangji offers as a distraction.
Immediately, Wei Ying is interested, looking between them expectantly.
"We'll experiment with you tomorrow, so you'll see how it works, and then you can consider adaptations," Wen Qing tells him. "You might not have time for it right away. Once you've recovered we need to prepare for your siblings' visit."
Wei Ying flinches at the reminder, and Wen Qing frowns. Lan Wangji knows he's thinking about the discussion he intends to have with Jiang Cheng.
"I need to tell Jiang Cheng," he says finally.
Wen Qing lets out a small breath, and nods. Surprisingly, she looks unbothered, as though she's been expecting this, or hoping for it.
"I'll let A-Ning know. You weren't going to be able to hide it forever, you know."
Lan Wangji puts his arm around Wei Ying when he shivers again, though he knows it's not from cold. His husband swallows hard, jaw tight.
"He's going to be angry. Mostly at me."
She reaches forward and pats his arm, smiling gently.
"At me, too. I operated on him without his consent, and I deserve his anger. But it's better not to have a secret between you. He's still your brother."
Wei Ying nods, leaning against Lan Wangji's shoulder. He leans forward and brushes his lips against his forehead.
"I will be with you. You need not speak to him alone."
That gets a crooked smile.
"I have to tell shijie. I lied to her, too."
His voice is resigned, and Lan Wangji understands; there is something about the disappointment of an older sibling that makes even omissions feel like outright lies. He felt it himself, in not telling Xichen of the handfasting. But Xichen had forgiven him immediately, had understood and supported him.
"She will forgive you," he says, certain.
"But do I deserve it?"
Wen Qing glares at him, flicking his nose. Wei Ying lets out a startled yelp.
"You don't get to decide that," she tells him, irritated. "And the answer is yes, regardless. She's your big sister, and she'll always forgive you. Take it from another big sister."
She pulls his arm from the sleeve of the zhong yi, and opens the jar of salve, quickly showing how to apply it using Wei Ying's upper arm.
"Aiya, that's cold!" Wei Ying murmurs, barely a complaint; he seems lost in thought.
She ignores him, instead demonstrating to Lan Wangji how to feel the muscle and gently rub the salve in.
"Where should it be applied?" Lan Wangji asks as she stands.
"All over," she says with a laugh. "Good thing you're here to do it."
The curtains slide shut behind her. Wei Ying stares after her blankly. Lan Wangji cups his cheek, and tilts his head up for a kiss, relieved when Wei Ying's gaze clears.
"Time for our every day, Lan Zhan?" he asks, his voice bright in a way he knows must be forced.
Lan Wangji frowns at him.
"You need not pretend with me, airen."
Wei Ying grimaces, curling against him, and Lan Wangji shifts to hold him more securely.
"It was just a long day," Wei Ying says softly.
His breath tickles Lan Wangji's collar. He agreed wholeheartedly with his husband; today was not only long, but exhausting. There are likely more long days ahead to navigate, as well, something Wei Ying is almost certainly thinking about.
"We will face what comes together."
In other circumstances, were Wei Ying not hurt, he would be happy to press him into their new bed and help him forget his anxieties. At the moment, he is more interested in easing his pain, so instead he helps his husband lie back and starts applying the salve, taking care to be gentle when he rubs it into Wei Ying's skin.
His skin, in the candlelight, has a golden hue, and though Lan Wangji knows he's still pale, since he arrived his husband's color has turned healthier. He can feel, touching him now, that he is at least starting to gain some of the weight he lost, though he has a way to go before he's fully recovered.
Wei Ying is oddly quiet, though his breath hitches at times, his eyes closing as though in pleasure. When Lan Wangji hooks his index fingers in the waistband of his zhong yi to pull them down, he can already see his husband is half-hard. He is tempted to abandon the salve and touch him properly, but he can feel the tension in Wei Ying's muscles, how they tremble beneath his fingers, the way Wei Ying's jaw tightens when that happens. His first duty to his husband is to see to his health, then to his pleasure.
So he focuses on spreading the salve, helping Wei Ying turn over when it's time. The scars across his back from zidian are thankfully surface-level, he can feel now as he traces the muscles beneath the skin. Wei Ying is trembling lightly by the time he reaches the curve of his ass.
He pauses in his ministrations, and finds tears on Wei Ying's face, realizes the shaking has been his attempt to suppress it.
"Wei Ying."
Lan Wangji sets the jar aside, lies beside him and pulls him into his arms, flush against his body. Wei Ying trembles against him, breath hitching as he hides his face against Lan Wangji's robe.
"Airen."
"I'm just tired," Wei Ying says eventually. "There's always so much. I'm sorry."
Wei Ying, he knows, has been struggling alone so long, has been drowning in his own pain and exhaustion and the secrets he felt he needed to keep, in the sense that he must always help others. To accept help from others, to reveal weakness, must be difficult after so long floundering alone.
"No apologies," Lan Wangji reminds him. "I will always help shoulder your burdens, airen."
"Ah, but I'm such a mess, Lan Zhan."
Lan Wangji kisses his hair. He knows Wei Ying means more than physically.
"You'll get better. I will help."
He lets his hand wander, tracing the gentle curve of Wei Ying's hip, and is rewarded with a half-lidded look, the inviting tilt of his throat.
"Will you let me help you?" Lan Wangji asks softly, tipping his head toward Wei Ying's.
Wei Ying breathes a shaky, "yes," against his lips, surges forward to meet them with his own.
Time seems suspended as they kiss, as Lan Wangji lets his hands explore the curves of Wei Ying's body, as Wei Ying tries to fumble aside the layers of Lan Wangji's clothing. He doesn't make it easy for his husband, distracting him with caresses, kisses, light nips against his throat.
By the time Lan Wangji comes back to himself, Wei Ying is almost drowsing against him, a contented look on his face, no tension in his jaw from pain or anxiety. But he's also beginning to shiver, and so he forces himself to move, finding that Wei Ying's robes beneath them caught the mess instead of the bedding, at least.
He's gentle when he removes the soiled garments, when he wipes them both off with talisman-warmed water from the basin, when he dresses Wei Ying in fresh zhong yi and underrobes. He dresses himself, then helps his husband sit so he can attend his disheveled hair, combing his hair out properly and weaving it into a fresh braid. His ministrations leave Wei Ying nearly asleep.
Lan Wangji is just pulling the bedroll blanket from his qiankun pouch when he hears tiny footsteps in the cave beyond, and he's unsurprised when he opens the curtain to find a stumbling and sleepy A-Yuan seeking them.
"A-die," the boy murmurs. "Want a-die."
Wei Ying stirs, and coos at him as Lan Wangji lifts him onto the bed. A-Yuan immediately snuggles into his arms.
"I'm here, baobei."
He unfurls the Gusu blanket over them, followed by the blanket embroidered by the aunties, then slips under to curl against Wei Ying's back.
"Warm," Wei Ying murmurs. "You're nice and warm, Lan Zhan. A-Yuan, too."
Lan Wangji rests his head against Wei Ying's hair, the metal of his own forehead ribbon pressed against his cheek, and inhales the scent of his own sandalwood hair oil in his husband's hair, listens to the softening of Wei Ying's breath, of A-Yuan's.
It is, perhaps, the most at home he has ever felt.
Tǔfān is an older Chinese name for Tibet, normally referring to the Tǔfān empire, which started in the 7th century. Since mdzs seems to be a combination of various points in Chinese history (or rather none of them because magic), I decided to use it—another name is Tǔbō, but I kind of liked the other one by how it seems similar to other place names in the series like Qishan and Dafan. Bön is the name of the Tibetan religion from which singing bowls originated.
I kind of stumbled upon the connection to Tibetan singing bowls as I was writing the chapter and researching how the resonance from healing music, acupuncture needles, and qi might come together. Which itself was the result of deciding to have Wen Ning converse with lwj, which was not a planned thing. It just kind of happened and a piece of the plot fell out of the conversation.
This took forever to write because wwx has gone through a lot in one day and is anticipating more stress. It took a while for him to finally be able to let it out, and the tension of his emotional state was difficult to write.
But happy birthday to Wei Ying!