Three years later

"Gege, I'm home!"

Lan Xichen smiled. "Welcome back, A-Yao. How was the market?"

"The same as ever," Meng Yao dismissed. "Although, I did find a treat. Catch!" He tossed something at Lan Xichen, who caught it unerringly. Meng Yao looked very pleased with himself. "Eat up."

Lan Xichen looked down at his hands and felt a pang in his chest when he recognized the object in them as a loquat. He rolled it between his hands instead of eating it, and Meng Yao's face began to fall.

"Is something wrong? Do you not like loquats?"

"Nothing's wrong," Lan Xichen assured him quickly. "It's just…"

It was foolish, Lan Xichen knew, to get so upset over a fruit. He should have had better control over himself. Normally, he would, but today… Well, today marked three years since the destruction of Lan Xichen's home and the deaths of his family, and he always found himself feeling fragile around the anniversary. The smallest thing could be enough to send him spiraling into grief.

Lan Xichen set the loquat down before his grip accidentally tightened so much that he crushed it. "Loquats were Wangji's favorite fruit."

Comprehension flashed over Meng Yao's face, closely followed by sympathy. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Lan Xichen did his best to force an approximation of his usual gentle smile. "There's no way you could have. You meant it as a treat. Thank you for thinking of me."

"Gege-"

"It's alright, A-Yao," Lan Xichen interrupted. He knew that was rude, but the mere thought of having to talk how he felt was painful, and he wanted to avoid it as much as possible. "I'll be alright in a few days. I always am."

Meng Yao nodded, although he didn't look entirely convinced. "It's getting late. I'll start making dinner in a minute."

Normally, Lan Xichen did his best to help Meng Yao with dinner, something he'd gotten much better at doing over the past three years, but at that moment, the house felt too small to contain Lan Xichen and all his grief. "Do you mind if I take a walk instead of helping?" he asked, feeling selfish even as he spoke the words. "I'd like some fresh air, if that's alright."

"Go ahead," Meng Yao assured him. "Just be careful."

"I know. I will."

Meng Yao offered Lan Xichen a small smile, which Lan Xichen did his best to return. He'd been rude, he knew, and being upset was no excuse. He'd have to make this up to Meng Yao later. He'd figure out some way to do it when he felt less like he was about to drown.

Lan Xichen slipped out of their little house into the dusky twilight. He turned away from the little village where Meng Yao did his shopping and instead towards the woods that bordered it. He wanted his solitude, and even if he didn't, Lan Xichen never went into the village unless he had to. Allowing himself to be seen by other people was an unnecessary risk. It was unlikely that any would look at him, wearing patched secondhand robes with no hairpiece or forehead ribbon, and recognize him as the missing Lan Sect heir, but there was always a chance. Meng Yao kept a lookout for anyone who might be allied with the Wen Sect, but he wasn't infallible. And given that, as far as he could tell, the Wens were still tracking down the last living member of the Lan Sect, Lan Xichen had to keep his head down.

That was why Meng Yao did all the shopping, and why Meng Yao was the only one who went out to find work. He would pick up odd jobs from anyone who needed anything in the village, from mending to washing to transcribing. Lan Xichen could transcribe things flawlessly, and he'd learned how to wash clothes without ripping them, but he was still hopeless at sewing, so that job was left solely to Meng Yao. Lan Xichen wished there were more he could do to help, but there was only so much he could do without interacting with other people, and until the Wens stopped looking for him - assuming they ever did - Lan Xichen had to be careful. Ever since he'd started living with Meng Yao, he had only spent time with a handful of other people, and only if absolutely necessary. He hadn't spoken to anyone other than Meng Yao in months. It was lonely, but at least it was safe.

Lan Xichen had thought he'd known loneliness before. He'd always been set apart from the other disciples in the Cloud Recesses by virtue of being the heir, and given that all of the various sects tended to keep to themselves, he'd only rarely met people from outside the Cloud Recesses. He'd had his uncle and brother, but those were the only people he'd ever been allowed to be close to. He'd thought that made him lonely, but after living alone with Meng Yao for three years, he'd discovered that he hadn't been lonely before at all. Perhaps he hadn't been close with many people, but at least he'd been able to see others. At least he hadn't been entirely alone. Now… Well, he had Meng Yao, but as much as it made him feel thankless to think it, sometimes that didn't feel like enough. Sometimes, he wanted to speak with someone else, anyone else, so badly that it almost hurt.

Today wasn't one of those days, though. Today, there were only a few specific people Lan Xichen wanted to speak to, and he would never be able to speak to them again.

He wandered deeper into the forest than he usually did, ignoring the darkening sky. He couldn't go back, not yet. He couldn't return to his little life, which may have been lonely but was more than anyone else in his family had gotten. He couldn't pretend everything was alright, not right now.

His forehead ribbon was wrapped tightly around his wrist, high enough that his sleeves normally covered it. It was a risk, perhaps, but one Lan Xichen was willing to take. In moments like this, he was glad of it, as he compulsively rubbed at the ribbon, wishing he could tie it around his forehead where it belonged. At least he still had it. The safer thing probably would have been to get rid of it entirely, but Lan Xichen couldn't stomach the thought. There were only a handful of things he had to tie himself to his family, and he wouldn't ever get rid of even one.

Shufu, I'm sorry, he thought as he rubbed the ribbon. Wangji, I'm sorry. I should have been with you. I should have protected you. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I hope you didn't die alone.

The sky had grown almost entirely black above him, and Lan Xichen sighed heavily before turning back towards home. He'd ended up in a denser part of the forest, but he knew it well enough to find his way out. He was just starting to do so when, a little ways ahead of him, something broke with a snap that echoed through the night.

Lan Xichen froze, eyes darting around. The sound was too loud to be any of the smaller animals that were most common in the forest, and Lan Xichen doubted any of the larger predators would make so much noise. The most likely option was that it was a person, and that thought made Lan Xichen begin to back up slowly, trying to stay as quiet as he could. Perhaps it was just a child from the village, and he had nothing to fear. Perhaps it was a Wen soldier, and he was about to die.

He was entirely weaponless, so if it were someone looking for him, Lan Xichen had little hope of fighting them off. He rarely carried Shuoyue with him, after all. It would be recognizable as a Lan-style sword to anyone who knew anything about swords, and even to those who didn't, it was clearly expensive. Carrying it around would prompt too many questions. Besides, Lan Xichen was safest if no one even knew he was a cultivator, according to Meng Yao. He kept Shuoyue in good condition, but he hadn't actually used it in years. He almost never brought it out of the house.

Right now, he was regretting leaving it behind.

Even as Lan Xichen slowly and quietly backed away, he could hear footsteps coming towards him. They sounded strange and shambling, and Lan Xichen decided it was almost definitely not an animal. It didn't sound much like a human either, which was about equally as worrying as the thought of it being one. If it was neither human nor animal, Lan Xichen wasn't sure he liked his chances of making it out alive, especially when he was unarmed and had barely cultivated in the past three years.

It was ironic, he thought as he began to move a little faster, that he'd spent so long hiding from the Wen Sect, but now he was about to be killed by something he probably could have defeated if he'd been prepared. If he had Shuoyue, or even some protective talismans, he would have at least been able to put up a good fight. As it was… He looked around for something he could use as a weapon and spotted a thick fallen tree branch that might make a halfway decent club. It was no substitute for a real weapon, and Lan Xichen swore to himself that he'd never go out completely unarmed again, but at least it was something. Perhaps he could use it to get away. He didn't think he'd be able to run, not with the shambling noise getting closer and closer, but if he could fight off whatever was coming for long enough, perhaps he'd be able to escape then. If he could just distract it…

And then a fierce corpse shuffled out from behind a tree, and Lan Xichen's heart plummeted. The fierce corpse was large, and Lan Xichen could practically feel its resentful energy from here. He doubted his club would do much, but he refused to die without at least trying to fight.

He took a deep breath and reached into his core, trying to coax it into waking. He had one of the most powerful golden cores in his generation, or so his uncle had always told him, but even still, there were consequences to ignoring his cultivation for so long. He didn't know that he had enough spiritual energy readily available to hold off a fierce corpse. He didn't know if he had enough spiritual energy to do anything, honestly. He'd try, but he doubted he would succeed.

And then, before he even had a chance to do anything, a thick blade beheaded the fierce corpse from behind.

Lan Xichen froze, hands still gripping the tree branch. The fierce corpse fell, and a tall, muscular cultivator emerged from behind it. He wore gray robes and had elaborate braids in his hair, and his sword appeared to actually be a saber. That would most likely make him a member of the Nie Sect, Lan Xichen thought, casting his memory back to the lessons his uncle had given him on the other sects. He didn't think the Nie Sect was traditionally allied with the Wen Sect, but he had no idea if that had changed.

His grip on the tree branch tightened, but he knew that, if it came to a fight, he would be hopelessly outmatched.

"Are you alright?" the cultivator asked, shocking Lan Xichen out of his increasing panic. "Did the fierce corpse hurt you?"

"N-no," Lan Xichen stammered, taking a step backwards. "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" the cultivator asked, sheathing his saber. "You're shaking."

Lan Xichen took another step back, lowering his makeshift club. "It didn't hurt me. I'm alright."

"I'm glad to hear it," the cultivator replied, something in his face softening slightly. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I live nearby," Lan Xichen replied, hoping there were enough villages within a reasonable radius that he hadn't just told this man where to find him. "I was taking a walk."

"In the woods at night?" the cultivator asked dubiously.

"Perhaps it was foolish," Lan Xichen allowed. "Thank you for saving me."

"Of course." The cultivator eyed him for a moment, then asked, "Would you allow me to walk you home? Or at least to a safer part of the forest?"

Lan Xichen's heart picked up speed. "I can find my way on my own."

"I'm sure you could usually, but I think there may be other fierce corpses in this area. I'd feel better if I knew you weren't going to be attacked by one."

Lan Xichen hesitated. He couldn't lead the cultivator all the way to his home, but perhaps if they just went to a safer part of the forest, that would be alright. After all, he doubted he could manage to fight off another fierce corpse on his own. He probably would have been killed by the first one if this cultivator hadn't saved him.

"I would appreciate the protection, then. Thank you."

"Which way are you going?" the cultivator asked. "I'll follow you."

"This way," Lan Xichen replied, heading vaguely in the direction of his house.

The cultivator fell in step next to him. "Do you often walk around in the forest at night?"

"Not normally this deep. I was lost in thought."

The cultivator hummed. "What about?"

"My younger brother," Lan Xichen replied without really meaning to. "He died a few years ago. I-I miss him."

Instantly, the cultivator's face turned sympathetic. "I'm sorry. I have a younger brother as well. I can't imagine how it would feel to lose him."

"What's your brother like?"

"He's annoying, is what he is. He never wants to practice with his saber, and he always just spends his time lazing around with his friends or painting his fans. But I love him. He's been my responsibility ever since our father died. I know I'm probably not the best older brother, but I try."

"You sound like a good older brother to me," Lan Xichen replied, doing his best to ignore the ache beneath his breastbone. "You love your brother. That's the most important part."

"What was your brother like?" the cultivator asked. "If you don't mind talking about him."

"My brother was…" Lan Xichen trailed off, trying to think of the best words to describe Lan Wangji. "He was serious, and he always looked so solemn, but he felt things very deeply, even if he tried to pretend he didn't. When he was little, he used to follow me around everywhere he could. He didn't have many friends, and neither did I, but we had each other, and that felt like enough."

"It sounds like you loved him very much," the cultivator says. "I bet you were a good older brother too."

Lan Xichen knew he hadn't been. He'd tried, but what sort of good older brother would run away and leave his younger brother behind? He should have found Lan Wangji and brought him away with him, or better yet, he should have stayed and fought alongside his family. He shouldn't have run. He should have ignored his uncle and stayed, should have-

"I've upset you," the cultivator said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"I wasn't a good brother," Lan Xichen said. His voice sounded distant to his own ears. "I tried to be, but I wasn't. If I had been, I would have protected him."

The cultivator shook his head. "You can't always protect people. And you can't blame yourself for things that weren't your fault. Your brother's death is the fault of whatever killed him and that's it."

Lan Xichen wondered if this cultivator would feel the same way if he knew the whole story. If he knew who Lan Xichen was, how he'd run, would he still say he wasn't to blame? Lan Xichen couldn't tell him, of course, but he still wondered.

He looked at the cultivator, and something told him that no matter how much he knew, the man's feelings wouldn't change. Something also told Lan Xichen that this cultivator could be trusted, but he still wasn't going to risk it.

"Would you tell me more about your brother?" he asked tentatively. "You said he likes to paint?"

"He paints fans, yeah," the cultivator agreed. "I don't really know anything about art, but it always looks nice to me. He thinks I hate his painting, but I don't, I just hate that he hides away and paints when he knows he's supposed to be training. And he always whines when I track him down and drag him out to the practice field, like I'm the one being annoying. He's got responsibilities! The fact that he hates them doesn't change that!"

Lan Xichen did his best not to laugh. He hadn't thought that would be a problem today, but this cultivator's description of his brother was so vivid, and the frustration he felt came through so clearly. Despite that, Lan Xichen could also hear the affection in the man's words, even if it was a slightly exasperated strain of it. As different as this cultivator and his brother seemed to be, Lan Xichen had the feeling there was a great deal of love between them.

"I spoil him, honestly," the cultivator continued. "He's my little brother, you know? I've been taking care of him since our father died, and I still remember how hard that time was for him. He hardly smiled for months. So now, if he likes painting and, I don't know, catching birds, I like to see him smile. And I know he doesn't want to be a fighter, and I'd let him just be an artist and do what he wanted if he didn't have other responsibilities, but he does. We both do. I can only let him get away with so much."

"It sounds like you're doing your best," Lan Xichen offered. "You're clearly trying very hard to balance things for your brother. I… I know what it's like to want to protect your younger brother from having too many responsibilities. At least my brother didn't avoid them as much as your brother does. Quite the opposite, actually. My brother always wanted to take on responsibilities, if it would mean helping me. He worked so hard, I had to make him relax sometimes."

"If my brother had a fraction of your brother's work ethic, I'd be much more relaxed," the cultivator huffed. "He drives me crazy."

"You love him, though. I can tell."

"Of course, but he still drives me crazy."

Lan Xichen found himself smiling. Strangely enough, speaking about Lan Wangji made it hurt a little less. The pain was still there, of course, and he still missed him, but speaking about Lan Wangji made Lan Xichen feel closer to him than he had for a long time.

"Are we getting near to your home?" the cultivator asked. "We're nearly out of the forest now, aren't we?"

Lan Xichen looked around. They were fairly close to the edge of the forest, and close enough to Lan Xichen's home that he didn't think the cultivator should go any further with him. "We're close. I can go the rest of the way by myself. You can go back to your night hunt."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Lan Xichen bowed deeply to the cultivator. "Thank you for saving me, and for protecting me on the way back. And thank you for listening."

"Of course," the cultivator replied. "But wait, before you go, you didn't tell me your name."

Lan Xichen wished he could tell him. He couldn't.

"Never mind my name. Thank you again, and good luck with the rest of the hunt."

He fled before the cultivator could say anything else, purposefully heading in a direction that wasn't quite right. He was too close to his home to lead the cultivator too off-track, but he could do his best to confuse him at bit.

There was no sound of anyone following him, so slowly, Lan Xichen started to angle his way back towards home. It took a little while, but finally, he reached the door and went inside.

"Gege!" Meng Yao cried immediately. "Where were you? You were gone for so long! I was worried something was wrong!"

"Nothing was wrong," Lan Xichen assured him. "I simply lost track of time. My apologies for worrying you."

"You're sure nothing happened?"

"Nothing happened," Lan Xichen lied. If he told Meng Yao about the cultivator, Meng Yao would worry, but Lan Xichen didn't think they needed to be afraid. He thought the cultivator could be trusted. Honestly, part of him wished he could see him again.

"You're sure?" Meng Yao asked, deflating slightly.

"I'm sure."

"You worried me," Meng Yao said, finally relaxing. "I'm glad everything was alright."

"Yes," Lan Xichen agreed, thinking about the soft look on the cultivator's face when he spoke about his brother. "So am I."

"You seem distracted, gege."

"Hmm?" Lan Xichen looked up from his calligraphy, which he was only half-heartedly copying. "What did you say?"

"That you seem distracted," Meng Yao replied, sounding amused. "What's on your mind?"

The truthful answer was that Lan Xichen couldn't stop thinking about the cultivator who had saved him the week before. Given that he hadn't told Meng Yao anything about that whole incident, he could hardly admit that now.

"Nothing in particular. I just find myself feeling a bit… restless."

"Do you want to go for a walk together after you finish your copying and I finish this mending?" Meng Yao offered. "We could get some fresh air."

"That sounds lovely," Lan Xichen replied. Honestly, he thought he'd probably enjoy a bit of time away from Meng Yao, but it would be horribly rude to tell him that. It would probably be even worse to tell him he'd actually prefer to spend time with a cultivator he'd spoken to only once before. "I'll finish this up quickly."

"Take your time," Meng Yao replied. "I still have a bit more mending to do."

Lan Xichen bent over his paper and tried to focus on his calligraphy and nothing else. His handwriting was impeccable, of course, thanks to his gentry upbringing, but that didn't mean he didn't have to focus as he wrote, especially since he had been commissioned to do it. If his calligraphy was imperfect, whatever client Meng Yao had found would be unlikely to pay the full price. They couldn't afford to be shortchanged unexpectedly like that. Those sorts of concerns had been foreign to Lan Xichen three years ago, but he'd learned to account for them quickly.

When Lan Xichen finally laid down his brush, satisfied with his work, Meng Yao was finishing up his last bit of mending. "I'll be ready in a minute," he said absently. "Can you fold the things I've already finished?"

"Of course," Lan Xichen agreed, gathering up the pile of fabric next to Meng Yao. He folded each piece of clothing carefully and laid it in the basket. Meng Yao was very good at mending, at least as far as Lan Xichen could tell; it was very hard to find where the clothing had been ripped before. It was a marvel to Lan Xichen, who was completely useless when it came to sewing. No matter how much Meng Yao tried to teach him, Lan Xichen's stitches always came out jagged and uneven. "It's alright, gege," Meng Yao had told him with some amusement after Lan Xichen's dozenth attempt at it. "Why don't you just leave this to me from now on?" Ever since then, Meng Yao had been the only one to pick up the needle.

"I'll return these later," Meng Yao declared, finishing with the last piece and folding it neatly. "And I can bring your calligraphy to the man who asked for it."

"We could combine that with our walk," Lan Xichen suggested, knowing even as he said it that Meng Yao would never agree.

Sure enough, Meng Yao's expression turned concerned. "Gege, I don't think that's a good idea. We'd have to go into the village for that."

Would that be so bad? Lan Xichen wanted to ask. Am I to live the rest of my life in this house? What sort of life would that be? Would it even be worth living?

That wasn't fair to Meng Yao, Lan Xichen knew. It wasn't his fault that Lan Xichen was in danger simply because of his existence. He was just trying to keep Lan Xichen safe. He was just trying to help.

But the four walls around them always felt small, and after speaking with the cultivator in the woods, after speaking with someone new, they only felt smaller.

"You're right, then," Lan Xichen told Meng Yao, offering him a smile that would hopefully dispel any worries. "Where shall we walk instead?"

"I was thinking we could walk in the woods, as usual," Meng Yao replied. "Unless you have any other thoughts?"

"The woods sound lovely," Lan Xichen agreed. A walk in the woods certainly wouldn't help him get his mind off that cultivator, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get his mind off of him. Lan Xichen had spent so long with only Meng Yao for company that any other interaction, no matter how small, felt like something he should savor.

It was, though, something a small selfish part of him wished to savor alone.

"Actually," Lan Xichen said suddenly, "why don't you return everything first, A-Yao? I think I'd like to meditate for a while before we walk."

Meng Yao blinked. "Are you sure? I can bring everything back later."

"I think meditation might help me feel less distracted," Lan Xichen replied. "We can walk later."

"If you're sure," Meng Yao replied, sounding a little dubious. He picked up the basket, then placed Lan Xichen's rolled-up scroll carefully on top. "I'll be back soon, alright?"

"I hope you have a nice time in the village."

Meng Yao shot him one last look, then he left the house. Lan Xichen sighed deeply, wishing the sigh didn't feel tinged with relief. He felt guilty about it, but that didn't change that he was glad to have the house to himself for a while. It felt even worse to dream about a different life when he was with the person who was the only reason he was still alive at all.

He did dream about it, though; dreamed about that cultivator coming back and telling him that he could come out of hiding, that he could be free again. Life would never be the same, of course, but at least Lan Xichen would have a life outside of the four walls of his house. He wasn't sure what sort of state the Cloud Recesses was in, but perhaps he could go to the Unclean Realm instead, assuming the cultivator who'd saved him had been a member of the Nie Sect as he assumed. There normally wasn't much interaction between the sects, but if the Lan Sect no longer existed, then perhaps Lan Xichen could join another. He could meet the cultivator's little brother, he could practice his own cultivation again, and perhaps, he could even make a life for himself that was happy.

It was foolish, Lan Xichen knew, to dream about making a life with someone he'd only met once. The only things he knew about that cultivator were that he was very strong and had a younger brother he loved. That was practically nothing, and Lan Xichen knew it. But he'd been so starved for contact with others that he couldn't help but linger on this one instance. Anyone new that he saw seemed very exciting.

He wondered, suddenly, if his parents had felt the same way.

Sometimes, when Lan Xichen thought too deeply about his own hiding, he found his mind wandering to his parents' confinements. Both of them had lived alone in small houses like this, after all, although for very different reasons. Lan Xichen found it difficult to relate to his father's seclusion, to be honest; Qingheng-Jun had chosen to stay in his home forever, and after a mere three years, Lan Xichen found it entirely impossible to understand how he could keep to that decision. He couldn't imagine having the chance to leave and deciding to stay instead.

But his mother…

The comparison between Lan Xichen and his mother wasn't perfect either. His mother had been imprisoned for committing a crime, and while Lan Xichen never knew of a time she'd attempted to escape, he knew she hadn't stayed in the Cloud Recesses of her own free will. Lan Xichen had committed no crime, and technically, he could leave the house. In practice, though, he felt as imprisoned as his mother had been. He supposed that metaphor made Meng Yao his jailer, which wasn't fair to him but felt true sometimes. Lan Xichen was the elder of the two, and he could make his own decisions, but Meng Yao knew more about the state of the world than Lan Xichen did. Lan Xichen had put his trust in Meng Yao, and unless he wanted to revoke it, he should keep listening to him.

But he did want so much to be free.

Lan Xichen took a deep breath and did his best to banish all thoughts of his parents or kind cultivators in the woods. He'd told Meng Yao he was going to meditate, and so he would. Or, at least, he would do his best. He reached inside himself, feeling the pulse of his golden core, and closed his eyes.

He was meditating, albeit a bit tentatively, when Meng Yao returned, opening the door with far more force than he usually would. "Is something wrong?" Lan Xichen asked, opening his eyes.

"I heard news," Meng Yao said, half breathless. "The leader of the Nie Sect is going to host a large banquet in a week's time. Rumor says it's so he can find a cultivation partner."

"I wish him luck," Lan Xichen replied, trying to figure out why Meng Yao had brought the topic up.

"He's made it an open invitation," Meng Yao added. That was rare, given how much the sects tended to keep to themselves, but still didn't explain Meng Yao's excitement. "Anyone can come. And rumor has it, one of his guests will be my father."

"Ah."

Lan Xichen knew who Meng Yao's father was, after all. He'd found out not long after they began to live together. Meng Yao had told him how Jin Guangshan had had an affair with his mother, and how he'd left before Meng Yao himself was born. He'd told him how he'd gone to Koi Tower in hopes that his father would recognize him, and he'd told him the attempt had been in vain. Still, Meng Yao never seemed to give up on the hope that his father would eventually acknowledge him, so if Jin Guangshan was going to be at the banquet for Nie-zongzhu, then Lan Xichen had the feeling Meng Yao wanted to be there too.

So did Lan Xichen, although for different reasons.

"Do you plan to attend, then?" Lan Xichen asked.

"I'd like to. If I can speak to my father face-to-face, I might be able to convince him to acknowledge me. I want to try, at least."

"Do you think it would be safe for me to come with you?"

Meng Yao blinked. "You want to come?"

"It might be nice," Lan Xichen defended. "I'm sure the people would be interesting, if nothing more."

"It wouldn't be safe. From the sound of it, at least half the cultivation world will be attending this banquet. People are coming from all the sects. Someone might recognize you."

"It's been three years, and I hardly know anyone outside my own sect anyway. I don't think I'm likely to be recognized, especially if I don't dress in a distinctly Lan outfit. And the Nie Sect isn't traditionally allied with the Wen Sect, are they? It doesn't seem likely anyone who wants me dead will be there."

"The Nie Sect isn't traditionally allied with the Jin Sect either, but my father will be there. It's too much of a risk to take. You'll be putting yourself in danger for no real reason."

"And if I want to go anyway?"

Some sort of expression spasmed over Meng Yao's face, just for an instant. Lan Xichen couldn't read it, but it felt like a shiver going down his spine.

"I have no power to stop you, gege," Meng Yao said slowly. "But it wouldn't be safe to go to the banquet. You'd be putting yourself in danger, and not just yourself. What do you think will happen if the Wen Sect discovers I've been hiding you? What do you think will happen if they discover you've been staying in this village? We'll all die for it." He didn't explicitly say, We'll all die because of your foolishness, but Lan Xichen could still hear the sentiment clearly in Meng Yao's words.

Meng Yao was most likely right. It would be an unnecessary risk for Lan Xichen to go to the banquet. And given that the Wen Sect had slaughtered his entire sect, he had no trouble believing they might also slaughter this village for the crime of hiding him, uncaring of their ignorance. He would be gambling all their lives if he went to this banquet, and for what? A chance at interesting conversation? A chance to spend a night away from this house?

A chance to see that cultivator again?

Lan Xichen couldn't even be certain that the man had been a member of the Nie Sect. True, he'd carried a saber, but surely there were rogue cultivators who carried sabers as well. Lan Xichen had been away from the cultivation world for years; perhaps sabers were more common among all the sects now. Perhaps the Nie Sect no longer used sabers at all. He had no real way of knowing if the man had been a member of the Nie Sect, and he had absolutely no way of knowing if the man would be at Nie-zongzhu's banquet.

Still, there was a chance, and the selfish part of Lan Xichen wanted to seize it.

But this was far from the first time that Lan Xichen had silenced the selfish part of him for the good of others. It hardly hurt to do anymore. He inclined his head slowly at Meng Yao, painting a small smile on his face.

"You're right, of course. It would be foolish to go. I'll stay here."

Meng Yao relaxed almost immediately. "I'm glad to hear it. You see that it's the safer thing to do, don't you?"

"I do," Lan Xichen agreed. "What is your plan for the banquet, then? If we take money from our savings, we should have enough for you to buy a new set of robes. How do you plan on reaching the Unclean Realm?"

Meng Yao looked down at his robes, which were sturdy and plain and not at all suited for a sect leader's banquet. "I'll see if I can find new robes first. And I suppose I'll have to walk to the Unclean Realm. Perhaps I can hitch a ride on a cart at some point along the way. It isn't too far, I don't think."

"It'll be a long walk," Lan Xichen replied, trying to remember the maps his uncle had shown him years ago. "Could you hire someone to take you there?"

"I don't think we can afford that and new robes. I'm not sure we can afford that at all. It's alright, gege. I'll figure something out."

"How will you convince your father to acknowledge you?" Lan Xichen asked, trying to speak carefully around the undoubtedly sensitive topic. "I've heard he doesn't often acknowledge his… extramarital children."

"I'll just have to show him my worth," Meng Yao declared. "I can be useful to him, I'm sure. I didn't have a chance to show him any of that last time, so I'll just have to do it this time."

"Is there anything I can do to help you prepare?"

A contemplative look crossed Meng Yao's face. "I know most of the traditions of the gentry, but this will be the first time I've ever attended an event like this. Will you teach me how to behave properly?"

"Of course," Lan Xichen agreed immediately. "Although I'm not entirely sure how the other sects behave at events like this. I've heard the Lan Sect is considered overly formal."

"I'd rather be overly formal than not formal enough. Thank you for helping. I'm sorry you can't come with me."

"It wouldn't be safe." Lan Xichen did his best to smile. "I understand that. It's alright."

"I'll tell you all about it when I get back," Meng Yao offered. "It'll be just like you were there."

"Thank you, A-Yao. I look forward to that." Lan Xichen stood, crossing to the small pot where they kept whatever money they could save. "Now, you should take this and go to buy new robes. If the banquet begins in a week, you should start preparing now. You'll have to leave at least two days in advance."

"Three would probably be best," Meng Yao agreed, a slight furrow between his brows. "I'll go find robes. I'll probably have to tailor them somewhat to fit me properly. Then will you teach me manners, gege?"

"Of course," Lan Xichen agreed. "Now go on. I can make dinner tonight, you focus on preparing yourself."

Meng Yao nodded, then hurried out of the house. Lan Xichen watched the door close behind him, then sat back down with a sigh.

He understood why he couldn't go to the banquet. It would be unsafe, and the risks outweighed the benefits. He knew that.

It didn't change the fact that he very much wanted to go.

Slowly, Lan Xichen stood and crossed to the chest where Meng Yao kept their most valuable possessions. All of Lan Xichen's things from the Cloud Recesses were there, Shuoyue and Liebing and his robes and his hairpiece and the qiankun pouch Lan Qiren had told him to protect. Lan Xichen pulled out the robes and eyed them critically. They were probably formal enough for an event like this, he supposed. They wouldn't have been if he were still the heir to the Lan Sect, but for the normal man he'd have to pretend to be, he thought they were sufficient.

They'd been made in the Lan style, of course, but Lan Xichen thought he could alter them enough that that wouldn't be obvious. If he exchanged some of the layers with some from his ordinary robes, that would make them a bit less austere, and if he left behind the jade ornaments and switched the pale blue belt for his usual gray one, he thought he could make the outfit look anonymous enough that no one would suppose the person wearing it was the missing Lan heir. If he was sure to style his hair differently and keep off his forehead ribbon…

There was no real point to Lan Xichen's imaginings. He couldn't go to the banquet and he knew it. It was foolish to even spend this much time thinking about it. He should have simply put the entire prospect from his mind.

And yet, he couldn't help but look down at the robes and wonder.

The next four days were a whirlwind of preparations for Meng Yao's departure. He had Lan Xichen teach him every aspect of etiquette that he could think of, and as he learned, he tailored his new robes so they would fit him perfectly. On the few occasions that he went out, Lan Xichen would take his own robes out of the chest and try them on, mixing them with his ordinary clothes until he came up with a combination that looked formal enough for a sect leader's banquet while also not appearing too overtly Lan. He hid the robes back in the chest whenever Meng Yao returned. There was no real need to do so, but Lan Xichen couldn't help but do his best to keep all evidence out of Meng Yao's sight. Meng Yao would think he was planning to go to the banquet, but Lan Xichen wasn't, not really. At least, he didn't think he was. But sometimes, he would lay out the robes and stare at them, and he'd think about the cultivator he'd met in the woods, and he'd wish-

But never too hard, and never for too long. It made no sense to long for what he couldn't have.

The longing built up anyway, though, until the day that Meng Yao planned to leave. He had his new robes folded and bundled away so they wouldn't be dirtied by the road, and he also carried some food and a small money pouch. He looked at Lan Xichen with a smile, and Lan Xichen was filled with such longing he thought he might burst.

"Well, gege, I think it's time for me to go," Meng Yao declared. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I'd guess not more than a week, or maybe a week and a half if the banquet drags on longer than I expect. I spoke to one of the men at the market, and he's agreed to bring a basket of food here for you in a few days. You shouldn't have to go out into the village at all."

"You seem very prepared," Lan Xichen replied, hating how torturously even his voice came out.

"I think I'm as prepared as I can be," Meng Yao replied. "Thank you for your lessons in etiquette."

"Of course."

"Is there anything you can think of that I'm forgetting?"

"Are you sure we couldn't figure out a way for me to come with you?" Lan Xichen burst out.

Meng Yao blinked. "What? I thought we agreed that was unsafe."

"I know, but I don't think I'll be recognized, especially if I don't dress like a Lan. I've been looking at my old robes, and I think I can layer them with my other clothes in a way that makes them not look like Lan robes."

"Your old robes?" Meng Yao repeated. "Gege, those are falling apart."

Lan Xichen frowned. "No, they're not."

Meng Yao crossed to the chest and pulled out the outer robe. "Look at this!" He tugged lightly at the sleeve, and the seam connecting it to the body of the robe began to unravel. "These wouldn't last through the banquet."

"They seemed alright the last time I checked them," Lan Xichen protested.

"Well, they certainly aren't alright anymore. You can't wear these to a formal banquet, and we don't have anything else for you to wear."

"But-"

"Gege," Meng Yao said firmly. "It's not safe. You can't come."

Sometimes, even though Meng Yao was the younger of the two, he said things in a way that made Lan Xichen feel like a humiliated child. Something about the way he was speaking now made Lan Xichen feel horribly uncomfortable, but he was certain he was overthinking it. Meng Yao was still speaking gently to him, even though his voice was stern. There was no reason for Lan Xichen to feel so affected.

After all, it wasn't like Meng Yao was saying anything that wasn't true.

"I understand," Lan Xichen capitulated after a tense moment of silence. "I was being foolish. I'll wait here until you return, A-Yao. Safe travels."

"Don't miss me too much," Meng Yao replied, a twinkle in his eyes again. Lan Xichen hadn't realized it was gone until it returned. Meng Yao's eyes had been cold without it.

"I hope you enjoy the banquet. I hope you get what you're looking for."

Meng Yao nodded. "I hope so too."