Operation Barking Dog
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Three
They parted ways after lunch, Sizhui and his uncle taking a different road north toward Qishan. The trip to the farm was longer than it needed to be with Xiao Pingguo, but they were accustomed to the pace.
Lan Wangji was not as accustomed to Wei Ying's pensive silence. There could be so many reasons for it, and he hesitated to ask, not wishing to tread where he was not welcome. He could only wait for Wei Ying to bring it up, if he chose.
Wei Ying's occasional glances toward him were heavy, and he looked away quickly if he noticed Lan Wangji's gaze.
Eventually, he tired of walking, Mo Xuanyu's body still low on stamina despite their months of travel and Wei Ying's efforts to strengthen it, and rode the donkey, spinning Chenqing in his nimble fingers for a bit before bringing her to his lips to play.
The music sounded plaintive in a way, even if the songs were meant to be, in one case, a dirty drinking ditty. The light breeze ruffled the fringe of his hair, curled his ponytail around him like a cloak.
When Lan Wangji could handle no more, he said simply, "Wei Ying."
His zhiji lowered the flute and sighed.
"I'm fine, Lan Zhan. Just thinking about how much I missed with A-Yuan and A-Ling."
He suspected this involved being called Dajiu and A-Niang, and Wei Ying's lamentable lack of self-worth.
"You will miss no more," he said after a moment. "They wish to have you in their lives."
Wei Ying was silent for a while, and Lan Wangji eventually brought Xiao Pingguo to a stop and turned to him. His head was lowered, shadowed by his hair.
"I guess it's their decision to forgive," Wei Ying murmured finally, his tone one of reluctant acceptance. "I can only do my best to do right by them from now on."
"Mn."
A beat passed, Wei Ying deep in thought, brushing one finger against his nose.
"I wish I knew how to get in touch with Mianmian. I know she left the cultivation world behind, but… she'd be good for A-Ling."
Lan Wangji considered for a moment.
"Write to Nie Huaisang," he suggested.
Wei Ying blinked, then grinned.
"Of course. He spent a decade spying, and I'm sure he kept track of her. Plus I figure he kind of owes me a favor. Great idea, Lan Zhan."
He pulled a talisman and paper from his qiankun dai as though to write immediately, which was silly perched atop Xiao Pingguo as he was, without ink ready. Lan Wangji impulsively took a step forward and put a hand over Wei Ying's.
"When we stop for dinner," he advised.
They would likely stay at the farm or nearby, but there would be more room for him to write.
Wei Ying pushed the items back into the bag with a nod.
"So sensible. Lead on?"
The music played on Chenqing was much more cheerful from then on, and they reached the farm, following landmarks described by Sizhui, as dusk fell.
He left the discussion up to Wei Ying, knowing his zhiji's charisma was more inviting to strangers than his own coldness. In little time, once it was established that they were friends of "those two nice young men" who had eliminated the local yao problem, he wheedled a place to stay in the shed that housed fodder for the Hu family's livestock, as well as a promise to help him with his fear of dogs through the puppies when they came.
The family wasn't fazed by Wei Ying's name, though they recognized him as Hanguang-Jun. He was relieved by the first, wondering if they simply didn't make the connection to Yiling Laozu or if word of Jin Guangyao's downfall had at least somewhat exonerated him among the common folk. Or perhaps the peasant farmers simply didn't pay much attention to cultivation affairs, too busy with their own lives to be bothered with strange politics. His title, he understood, given that he had taken care of so many issues among the common folk and peasantry and had earned his name from them.
In exchange for the hospitality, they would set a few local benign spirits to rest and help out around the farm, a prospect Wei Ying seemed delighted by.
Lan Wangji remembered that the Wen remnants had farmed in Luanzang Gang, and realized likely Wei Ying was thinking back on those days with a sort of fondness. For once it was untainted by the ultimate loss of what he sometimes referred to as his third family, just the memory of the work he had done with them.
The farmer helped them settle Xiao Pingguo into the small stable they had for their nag, then led them to the shed. He apologized for the spartan accommodations, consisting of a larger sleeping pallet and a few threadbare blankets and pillows, and asked if they would prefer to stay at an inn in a town ten li or so up the road. It was clear he felt his offerings were below the level that should be offered to Hanguang-Jun, but he had stayed in far worse places, particularly during the war, and was accustomed to camping as well.
The single sleeping pallet made his heart beat a little stronger, the knowledge that they would share a bed again gratifying in a way that made him feel a bit guilty, his elation selfish.
"This is sufficient," Lan Wangji said when Wei Ying looked at him uncertainly.
"I've slept in much more uncomfortable places," Wei Ying assured their host.
They dined on a simple meal with their hosts and their three young children who seemed fascinated by the presence of cultivators—this far out, few were seen, despite this technically being Yao sect's land and responsibility. It came as no surprise to Lan Wangji that it was neglected to the point of traveling cultivators needing to resolve major issues.
He focused on the meal, simple but delicious, watching Wei Ying entertain the children with light-hearted stories, trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of the pallet they would share tonight.
They learned from the children that the dog—oddly named Tuzi, as though their coming was somehow yuanfen—was due to give birth any day, and had been sequestered in a smaller shed to protect her and the coming pups from the elements and predators.
"With the yao gone, she's safer, but we want to be sure," said the farmer.
"She's such a calm and obedient dog," the farmer's wife remarked. "Already some of the neighbors are asking about the pups."
The information was welcome—perhaps after the puppies Wei Ying could try testing his mettle against their dam. Little wonder the family was protecting her, if the pups could be traded to members of the community to help make their farm more successful. Likely this was needed in the aftermath of the disruption of their farm by the yao.
Before long, the family was ready to retire, their lives governed by the sun, and they took their leave and retreated to their accommodations. Wei Ying jotted off a letter to Nie Huaisang and sent it off by talisman, the reverse-engineered and improved version of the Jin butterfly, his version a red oriole, though he altered the shape for whomever he was addressing.
Nie Huaisang, he explained, got a bird because he kept an aviary, and an oriole as a reference to Zhuangzi's work. 螳螂捕蝉,黄雀在后 or the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind, very much a reference to his actions regarding Jin Guangyao.
"It was either that or a fox, but that'd be a little too judgmental."
"Mn," Lan Wangji agreed quietly.
He wrote his own letters to Xiongzhang and Shufu, letting them know of meeting Sizhui on the road and giving him permission to travel to Qishan so any judgment would fall on him. He was amused when Wei Ying made the former's talisman a bat for good fortune, and the latter a winged tortoise for longevity. Both would enjoy the symbolism, though Shufu would probably consider it frivolous.
"I can sleep on the floor," Wei Ying offered awkwardly as hai shi came. "It's softer than the rock I slept on at Luanzang Gang."
Lan Wangji would hear none of it. Wei Ying's new body was more fragile than his old still, Mo Xuanyu having been deprived of his basic needs for far too long, shut up in a donkey shed. He had no doubt Wei Ying would develop both body and core, but it deserved comfort now.
"We have shared before, Wei Ying."
Wei Ying relented easily, and they performed their nightly ablutions separately and donned sleeping robes before retiring. Lan Wangji piled the blankets the farmer had left atop ones from his qiankun dai over them to protect Wei Ying from the chill of the late autumn night.
"See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying murmured, a ritual they'd started on their journey.
"Mm, tomorrow," Lan Wangji returned.
He took a moment to relish the feel of Wei Ying's shoulder against his own before sleep dragged him under.
Tuzi means rabbit. Xiao Pingguo is Lil Apple. Qiankun dai is qiankun pouch. Xiongzhang means elder brother. Shufu is father's younger brother.
Fox symbolism in China is in some ways connected to the huli jing, the nine-tailed seductress. Often the fox was associated with scholars, libertines, tricksters, drinking companions, and avengers. Sometimes this was a negative symbol, involving evil and even the stealing of offerings for the dead like grave robbers.
The line by Zhuangzhi is from the Chuang-tzu.
Extra bonus with Lan Qiren's tortoise is the scene in CQL when Wei Wuxian attaches a paper drawing of a turtle to his back.
