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 Thirteen
Wei Ying, when Lan Wangji wakes him for breakfast in the morning, is alarmingly withdrawn. His eyes are hazy, unfocused. He barely reacts when Lan Wangji places his bowl of breakfast in his hands, and ultimately he feeds him. It is a slow process, Wei Ying sometimes needing prompting.
If not for his reluctance to leave his husband alone in such a state, he would go looking for Wen Qing. Instead he focuses on feeding him and having him drink the medicine Wen Ning brought with breakfast.
By the time she arrives, Wei Ying has slipped back to sleep.
"It's the pain, and probably one of his bad days on top of it," she tells him when he asks.
Wei Ying, he learns, often sequesters himself from the others, sometimes not leaving the cave for several days. He spends that time feverishly inventing cultivation tools.
"It's a distraction," she says, sounding tired. "Whatever is going on in his mind, he's trying to distract himself from it however he can—he'd probably numb himself with alcohol if we had it."
Nightmares, Lan Wangji is certain, and the trauma of his experiences, perhaps his own lack of self-worth driving a need to be useful through his inventions.
If Wei Ying is suffering today, the pain prevents him from using his normal coping mechanisms. And Lan Wangji would rather he not use drinking as one—and he suspects Wen Qing feels similarly, as jifu has brewed more fruit wine.
Since they're waiting for Wen Ning to return with the bathtub so the hot water can ease Wei Ying's pain a bit before they try their musical acupuncture experiment, Wen Qing leads him to a nearby stone "table" covered in papers. They're haphazard, scrawled half-ideas interrupted by new ones, occasional doodles, a true mess. There's no organization even within one page, only a sort of jumble of thoughts in smeared ink.
Lan Wangji hates the idea that his husband's mental state could mirror those pages on his bad days.
"He hasn't had one of his bad days since you came," she says, her tone approving. "You're good for him. Yesterday was just… a lot."
He can only nod in response; it had been difficult for him, as well, but Wei Ying had bared a secret he had not willingly told anyone, had made himself vulnerable—and at Lan Wangji's request. Even had he not suffered the near-possession, today may have been a bad day for him regardless.
"I'll put together a sachet for the bath, something to relax his muscles and ease the pain," Wen Qing says. "Let him sleep until A-Ning gets back."
He returns to Wei Ying's side when she leaves. He is pale and still as he sleeps, his lips parted slightly as he breathes, his breath easy and calm. The dark circles under his eyes are still prominent, and Lan Wangji hopes it is a healing sleep.
Lan Wangji spends a shichen meditating beside Wei Ying while keeping attuned to him in case his sleep is disturbed. Wen Ning returns, carrying a large bathtub already filled as though it weighs nothing, and carefully sets it down without sloshing the water over.
"I cannot use t-talismans anymore," the young man says, almost in apology. "Jiejie put a sachet in already. She said t-to only let him soak for a quarter shichen, then have him drink water."
"Thank you, Wen Ning."
He rises and bows, and Wen Ning makes a disgruntled sound.
"Y-you shouldn't bow t-to me, Lan-er-gongzi!"
Lan Wangji shakes his head.
"You are helping my husband," he says.
"I would help him anyway."
"All the more reason to show you courtesy."
Wen Ning seems to recognize Lan Wangji will not budge on this issue, and finally just nods.
"Jiejie said she would check on him in half a shichen, and to t-try the acupuncture idea."
Lan Wangji has little choice but to accept Wen Ning's bow before he leaves; protesting it would be hypocritical.
After affixing a warming talisman to the tub, he turns his focus back to Wei Ying. He tries to wake him pleasantly, with soft murmurs and touches, and after a few minutes rouses him enough to explain about the tub.
Wei Ying is barely able to help when Lan Wangji undresses him, only just awake. He frowns to find bruises on his skin that hadn't been there the night before. He hoped Wen Qing would know what had caused them.
He knows his robes will just get wet, so he strips himself to his zhong yi trousers.
He doesn't bother trying to get Wei Ying to walk once he is undressed, just scoops him into his arms and carries him to the tub. Wei Ying lets out a soft moan as Lan Wangji lowers him into the hot water and settles him, careful to keep his braided hair out of the water. Wei Ying grabs his arm before he can completely withdraw from the water.
"Stay?"
Lan Wangji can deny him nothing, so nods, settling beside the tub and holding Wei Ying's hand under the water. The rising steam has an earthy mint aroma, and he hopes the bath and Wen Qing's sachet of herbs are helping ease his pain.
"You're always here for me," Wei Ying murmurs, his voice distant, sleepy.
"I have not been before."
He regrets that, seeing the pain his husband, his zhiji, has endured. He thinks perhaps it will always be a regret, having waited too long to support him.
Wei Ying frowns at him, his eyes hazy. He draws Lan Wangji's hand to his chest over his healed brand scar, over his heart.
"You have. Here."
"Wei Ying," he breathes, overcome by the gesture.
"Like that. I heard you, the first time. When I was here."
Lan Wangji frowns, confused. Wei Ying's eyes slide shut and he sighs softly.
"I thought it was the end, when they dropped me here. All that resentful energy howling at me all around, asking if I wanted revenge. I was ready to give up and just… let it end. But I heard you call my name. Your voice. I wanted to try to see you again."
Wei Ying's voice is barely audible at the end, and after several breaths Lan Wangji realizes he's fallen back to sleep. He feels raw, knowing this, knowing Wei Ying tried to survive for him, to return to him, just to see him, expecting to be hated for what he had to do to survive.
He curls closer to the tub and kisses the top of Wei Ying's head, burying his face in his hair.
"I'm glad you did, Wei Ying," he whispers. "I'm so glad you did."
There is moisture in Wei Ying's hair, and it takes a moment for Lan Wangji to realize it's from his own tears. He has never doubted Wei Ying loves him, but the depth of his love is overwhelming, that Wei Ying refused to give up in the face of certain death for the chance to see him again. Even the spectre of Lan Wangji had comforted him in his lowest moment.
Lan Wangji simply holds his husband, as much as is possible separated by a wooden tub, and tries not to think. Tries not to wonder what might have happened had he not discovered Wei Ying's secret, had he walked down the mountain and returned to Gusu as he had intended, had he left Wei Ying to suffer alone. Tries not to be angry with himself for having been so willing to abandon his husband for the sake of rules—what rule is worth more than Wei Ying?
Finally, he estimates it has been quarter shichen and he hooks an arm under Wei Ying's knees, the other around his back, and lifts him out of the tub.
Wei Ying shivers in his arms, wrinkling his nose and letting out a whine at the chill of the air. Lan Wangji sets him on the embroidered blanket on the bed, wrapping him in it—the material will absorb the water, and he can hang it to dry later. Wei Ying's features smooth over, and he stirs, murmuring his name.
"I am here, airen. I will not leave you."
Never again, he promises. Every time he leaves Wei Ying, terrible things happen to him. He will defend him, care for him, and keep him safe.
Wei Ying smiles sleepily at him.
"Did they get a tub for popo, too?" he asks.
Lan Wangji wants to clutch him close, this man who cares so much for others and yet so little for himself, but instead he pets his hair and leans in to kiss him softly.
"I did not ask."
Wei Ying huffs softly, turning his head into Lan Wangji's touch.
"Hope they did. Bath was nice."
He wonders if Wei Ying remembers what he said, his revelation, but he doesn't address it. It does not need to be addressed. He knows now, and he will not forget.
"Wen Qing added an herb sachet. How is your pain?"
"Tolerable," Wei Ying murmurs with a soft hum.
Lan Wangji knows that could just as easily mean it is intolerable, but Wei Ying won't admit it even if that is the case. Regardless, he must be feeling at least slightly better than before the soak—he is more present now.
He remembers he was to have Wei Ying drink water and he pours a cup from a nearby ewer. He lifts Wei Ying into a sitting position and helps him drink, refilling the cup a couple of times until he's sated.
"We will attempt that musical acupuncture cultivation idea when Wen Qing comes," he says, easing him back down.
Wei Ying nods, but grimaces.
"Wei Ying?"
"Hate needles," he murmurs. "That's all."
"I will be here with you."
It is all Lan Wangji can promise, but when Wei Ying smiles softly at him, he hopes perhaps it is enough.
Lan Wangji makes sure Wei Ying is dry within the blanket, then helps him into his zhong yi trousers—reluctantly, after Wei Ying looks at him through long lowered lashes and asks if it's time for their every day. Had they had the time for it, without the threat of Wen Qing walking in on them, he wouldn't hesitate.
He does not hesitate to kiss him breathless, to hold him close, and he hopes it is enough for now.
He knows acupuncture will require Wei Ying to be mostly nude, so he only bothers him with the trousers for now, wrapping him back in the blanket and kissing him soundly.
He is just finishing with the belt over his outer robe when Wen Qing enters carrying a basket.
"You look better than this morning," she tells Wei Ying bluntly, and he laughs softly.
"Your medicine and the herbal bath helped, Qing-jie."
That elicits a smile from her, and she settles beside him on the bed.
"He has bruises."
Lan Wangji pulls back the blanket to show her, and is relieved when she only nods.
"His muscles spasmed violently when he was fighting the possession. They'll heal, but there was damage."
She turns to Wei Ying.
"You made it worse for yourself, you know."
Wei Ying looks away, frowning.
"I didn't know if she would hurt A-Yuan. I couldn't risk it."
Wen Qing's expression softens, but she still huffs at him irritably.
"And you wonder why he adopted you as his dad."
She pulls a set of acupuncture needles from the basket, and if Wei Ying intended to protest her comment, he thinks better of it, eyeing the needles distrustfully.
"I want to work on your back first," she tells him. "Since we don't know the effects, we'll start slow and be careful. You need to let us know if it hurts, Wei Wuxian."
He nods, still eying the needles. Lan Wangji helps him turn over, pooling the blanket over his lower body and tucking it around him to give him at least some warmth. He holds Wei Ying's hand, hoping to offer comfort as Wen Qing inserts her needles.
Wen Qing stays fairly quiet as she works, simply letting them know she's targeting muscles rather than meridians for the first stage of the experiments, hoping to determine whether a directed distribution of qi will accelerate the healing process.
"I don't want to try the meridians just yet," she says eventually. "It may flush out the resentful energy, and I don't know how that would affect you. It might make you feel better, but..."
Lan Wangji thinks perhaps he understands her recalcitrance; Wei Ying has been cultivating resentful energy for so long, flushing it out could be a shock to his system. And, living in Burial Mounds, surrounded by resentful energy, it could easily just make him more vulnerable.
He wishes he could take Wei Ying from here, take them all from here to a place less tainted by death. Perhaps that can eventually be accomplished, but for now he can do nothing.
"I can't lose hold of it," Wei Ying murmurs. "Not and control the seal."
A chill washes through Lan Wangji at the reminder of the weapon, that terrible dark tool that had won the war for the cultivation world, while making Wei Ying a target for the power-hungry. Lan Wangji knows such a tool must be hard to control—even spiritual tools can harm the user when a wielder cannot keep control.
Wen Qing makes a face.
"I wish you'd destroy that awful thing."
"Can't. It's a deterrent. And the backlash from destroying it would be pretty bad."
Wei Ying sounds almost grieved, as though he would prefer to destroy it.
"If we could ward against the backlash?" Lan Wangji asks.
"It's the only thing keeping us from being massacred at the moment," Wei Ying says bitterly. "Otherwise I'd be all for it. The seal recognizes no master, and it's too dangerous to exist."
Lan Wangji frowns at the information, concerned. He wonders how much energy Wei Ying has been using to keep it under control—hasn't, in fact, seen it since his arrival in Burial Mounds. He hopes his husband doesn't carry it around with him.
Wen Qing finishes placing her needles and stands, and Lan Wangji squeezes Wei Ying's hand before letting go to pull out his guqin.
He decides to start with a minor healing song, something not terribly invasive, instilling his qi into the notes. Wei Ying's breathing quickens, and Lan Wangji tries to keep his attention on the music, reminding himself that Wen Qing is the one with medical expertise, is the one monitoring. And, he notices, is directing the spiritual energy into the acupuncture needles.
"Pain?" she asks.
"No," Wei Ying says, his voice strained. "It's… warm. Good."
Lan Wangji lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and turns his attention to the music, letting all his focus go to the task. Wei Ying is always cold, and he idly wonders if that's what resentful energy feels like—cold. He remembers him shivering with fever in the cave after the battle with the Xuanwu, and wonders if that was more than fever, if perhaps that was in part the cold of the resentful energy from the sword.
Wen Qing eventually touches his shoulder, and he stills his strings. She gestures toward Wei Ying. At a glance, he can already see the bruising has faded. He takes Wei Ying's hand again and finds his husband is sound asleep, his face utterly relaxed.
"I'd call that a success, at least tentatively," Wen Qing comments.
She takes Wei Ying's other wrist, clearly examining his meridians.
"It didn't clear out much resentment, but that's expected given we were targeting his muscles. It may have cleared out some of what's seeped into his body, which would be good."
"It's seeped into his body?" Lan Wangji asks, trying not to be alarmed.
She nods, sighing, and begins the process of removing her needles.
"It's damaging, of course. He doesn't complain, but we try not to ask him to do too much. He's probably in some level of pain constantly, and the possession made it worse. I hope this helps."
Lan Wangji wishes he had known, but also knows there's little he could have done if he had. Throughout the war, he had watched Wei Ying, taken in his increasingly pinched features, his tense posture, his temper. He had worried it was the resentful energy, and he finds it doesn't make him happy to have been right. Wei Ying had felt he had to suffer it alone, and now remains quiet about his pain. Perhaps his constant pain contributes to his bad days, as well.
He can see the difference now, how his muscles are relaxed in a way they haven't been even when Wei Ying slept.
"I think letting him sleep before another session is best," Wen Qing comments as she removes the last of her needles. "It will allow us to see the impact later."
He nods, and pulls the blanket up around Wei Ying's shoulders, tucking it around him—even if the qi warmed him, it would be temporary.
Wen Qing placed the needles back in her basket and stood.
"If he's up for another round in the afternoon, we'll try it. I'll sterilize these just in case."
She bows, and Lan Wangji returns it as best as he can seated beside Wei Ying and holding his hand.
"I'll send A-Ning with lunch later. Also, I think one of the aunties will be by to fit you for clothing."
"Is there anything I can help with?" he asks, though he's reluctant to leave Wei Ying.
Wen Qing quirks a smile.
"As I told you when you said you were staying, I want you to help Wei Wuxian. He needs your help more than we do."
He nods, and she leaves, closing the curtains behind her.
Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying sleep for a long while before deciding he can perhaps help him in other ways. He leaves the alcove and returns with a sheaf of Wei Ying's disorganized and messy notes, setting it on the table beside the bed. Within minutes he transforms the small table into a desk, fresh paper and ink ready for him to work.
At the very least, he can rewrite Wei Ying's notes, using separate sheets of paper for the different ideas so he can work with them more easily. He has copied and rebound books for the library at Cloud Recesses, after all, and Wei Ying once complimented his calligraphy. Even now, the memory makes his ears heat, as it was very shortly followed by the porn incident.
Of course, they've done what was displayed in that book multiple times, so the memory is less embarrassing and more arousing.
With one last glance at Wei Ying peacefully slumbering next to him, he gets to work.
Intended to get further in this, but was at a good stopping point and already over 3K words.
We don't know a whole lot about Wei Wuxian's time with the Wen in Burial Mounds. While it's unlikely he dealt with near-possession, the shift of Lan Wangji staying changed a lot of things. They could afford more crops, so he had to clear the resentment from more land. That combined with the emotional exhaustion from talking to Lan Xichen left him open. Unintended consequences.