Operation Barking Dog
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Four
Lan Wangji woke at mao, though it was hard to leave the embrace of sleep with warmth enveloping him from the blankets and shared body heat, Wei Ying having shifted in the night to curl close, using Lan Wangji's chest as his pillow. He allowed himself the indulgence of staying in bed for several ke before extracting himself from Wei Ying's unconscious embrace and covering him more fully with the blankets.
The Hu family was also rising, and he learned the dog had given birth in the night to eight healthy pups and a runt that would require extra care if it was to live. The youngest of the children, a girl of seven named A-Ning, sharing Wen Qionglin's given name, was to attempt to keep it fed and warm.
The coincidence in names, the dog named Tuzi, A-Yuan and Wen Qionglin learning information that would help Wei Ying before they even knew of his quest… it all further cemented the idea they were meant to be here.
Lan Wangji mentioned the coincidence in names and A-Ning smiled.
"He taught me how to write it before they left. A-Die and A-Niang can't read, so they didn't know. Then Sizhui-gege taught everyone their names, too."
She wrote the characters 胡宁 in the dirt with her finger to demonstrate, with such a flourish Lan Wangji could almost feel a palpable love of learning, and he wondered if they couldn't foster that while they stay—Wei Ying is an excellent instructor, though he gets embarrassed if told so.
It would be a question for her parents, no doubt, in terms of whether they could spare the time on a busy farm. For a moment he thought of how much Wei Ying might enjoy teaching in this rural area, lifting farm kids into literacy and potentially strengthening their futures.
Then he reminded himself this was technically Yao sect territory, even being poorly supported by that sect, and he could trust Yao-zongzhu only to bring Wei Ying more pain. As idyllic a life as his imagination conjured—a cottage for them with A-Yuan visiting regularly, Wei Ying working the fields and inventing at his leisure—he knew it was not possible here, now, with these people. Perhaps in the future.
But while they were here, a foundation, perhaps, could be built for the children to pursue knowledge on their own. It would give Wei Ying something to focus on while he attempted the impossible. Nothing was lost in asking.
A-Ning interrupted his thoughts with an offer to bring the puppy for Wei Ying to meet when he woke, and showed it to Lan Wangji.
It was tiny, though not quite as small as a newborn rabbit—perhaps one a few weeks old—its fur downy and the color of honey. It whimpered to be out of the bundle A-Ning kept in her shirt to keep it warm with her own body heat, and she quickly returned it there.
The family broke their fast with plain millet congee, and gave Lan Wangji an extra bowl for Wei Ying, unbothered by his divergent sleeping habits. Not everyone rose with the sun, Hu-furen told him.
He hesitated to wake Wei Ying, taking the time to add chili sauce from the stock he kept in his qiankun dai before he did so. Lan Wangji tried not to watch as he stretched, his sleep robes opening, their ties having loosened in the night, to reveal his zhong yi, his nipples dark against the sheer white fabric.
Wei Ying didn't fix his robes, and instead ate his breakfast—Lan Wangji carefully kept his eyes above his zhiji's pale throat while he chattered, groggily at first, about a dream he had wherein Xiao Pingguo ran away and Jingyi was inconsolable as they searched for her.
"He complains about her, but it's all adoration, you know."
"Mm. And when you found her?"
Wei Ying giggled, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner, drawing Lan Wangji's attention to his lush, if sleep-mussed, hair, so much healthier than it had been: brittle and dull, breaking and tangling easily.
"I woke up before we found her. The investigation was ongoing."
Lan Wangji busied himself pulling items from his qiankun dai, including fresh clothing and a comb for Wei Ying, who smiled at him appreciatively, making his heart beat a bit faster.
"The puppies were born in the night," he told Wei Ying as he took a comb roughly to his hair, and frowned when he dropped the comb with a flinch at the news. "One is a runt, and the youngest daughter is caring for it, so we shall start with that one."
Wei Ying let out a nervous titter and returned to his hair, and Lan Wangji watched mutely for a moment. He doesn't know how best to reassure him, and though his first inclination was to take the comb and brush his hair for him, more gently, the urge was inappropriate and he quashed it.
"It is the size of a baby rabbit and lacks teeth, and I will be with you."
The comb stilled and Wei Ying glanced his way and then nodded, as though his presence made the difference, which did not help Lan Wangji's heart rate—he had promised himself to be at his beloved's side in any capacity he was welcome in this miraculous new chance they had, and Wei Ying's trust in him to do so meant everything.
When they left their small accommodations, little A-Ning was waiting in the sun, holding a rag that had clearly been soaked in milk from a bowl in front of her in the puppy's mouth as it suckled. Lan Wangji heard Wei Ying draw in a breath behind him, felt him move a little closer as though nervous, as he had when Fairy had barked in the distance in Qinghe.
"It really is tiny," Wei Ying finally murmured, sounding a bit awed. "Like a baby otter."
"Baby otter?" A-Ning asked, looking up at his comment.
Wei Ying nodded, tension in his body starting to ebb.
"In Yunmeng they use burrows by the water. Once we looked in one, and the pups were older but about that size."
It quickly became clear A-Ning had never seen an otter before, and soon Wei Ying was sitting near her describing them to her, closer already to the puppy than Lan Wangji had expected.
The puppy let out a sound so unlike a bark that Wei Ying barely flinched, and the child removed the rag to soak in milk. It flailed as though to find something else to latch onto until she gave the rag back and it returned to suckling.
Wei Ying watched, wide-eyed and silent as she performed the task.
"It can't be with the rest of the litter?" he asked after a bit.
A-Ning shook her head.
"It's too little to fight for space," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe later when it's bigger, but it won't ever get bigger if I don't do this. It'd die."
Lan Wangji knows it's possible the pup will die anyway, having seen from litters of rabbits that, even with intervention, sometimes runts could not be saved. It had grieved him, particularly during the years immediately after Wei Ying's death, to learn that sometimes life could not be saved.
He wasn't certain whether A-Ning was aware of this, and remembered the lesson had devastated Sizhui at her age. However, she was almost certainly aware of the cycle of life and death, her family practicing animal husbandry—a cow, several goats, chickens, at least.
Soon enough, the pup's belly was bulging and it was barely sucking at the rag anymore, almost dozing the way Wei Ying did after a particularly satisfying and large meal (something Lan Wangji tried to induce as much as possible, Mo Xuanyu's malnourishment still clinging all these months later). A-Ning removed the rag and drank the rest of the milk from the bowl despite how unhygienic it had to be, but on a farm he supposed it was necessary not to waste.
"Do you want to hold it?" she asked Wei Ying, who shrank back at the question.
"Perhaps start with touching," Lan Wangji advised.
Wei Ying nodded, clearly steeling himself as he reached forward to touch the pup, his fingertips brushing cautiously over short baby fur. The pup chose that moment to yawn, which led to him flinching back, but it demonstrated the creature truly had no teeth. Lan Wangji was proud of his zhiji when he reached forward again and this time touched it more firmly, petting it a little, even if he kept up a mantra of "it's a baby otter, just a baby otter" in a voice so soft only a cultivator would hear him.
The pup was unbothered by his touch and was soon asleep in A-Ning's hands.
"I have to keep it warm," she eventually told Wei Ying, who was doing well in touching the puppy without panicking, shifting it into her robe. "Next time, maybe holding?"
That got a sheepish laugh from Wei Ying, who prevaricated before turning a smile to Lan Wangji.
"Ah, we should talk to your baba about what work he wants us to do around the farm," Wei Ying said with a false-sounding brightness likely meant to hide his trepidation at the idea.
A-Ning pointed them in the right direction and headed off to the family's house without further comment, humming as she left.
Farmer Hu, while grateful for their offer of help so quickly into their stay, asked that they help one of the neighbors with a benign spirit issue.
"Lao Po thinks it's her great grandson, who died of fever last year," he told them, then mused they'd have to wait until night fell.
Wei Ying handled the misconception with ease, explaining that spirits could be active at any time, not just at night, particularly if they were benign, though night was most common.
"With Lan Zhan playing Inquiry, it won't matter if it's day or night—he's the best!"
Lan Wangji was quietly pleased he thought so, though it had been little comfort during the thirteen years he'd failed to find Wei Ying's spirit. Those years, he had despaired, agonizing over whether it meant nothing was left to find, his soul torn apart like his body, never to return.
The farmer gave them directions, and they set off on foot, Wei Ying a bundle of energy, flitting across the path to look at different plants and ultimately picking several sprigs of zhuge cai flowers and, with a mischievous look, reaching up to tuck it behind Lan Wangji's ear, careful not to touch his forehead ribbon.
Wei Ying stepped back with a grin to survey his work, looking pleased when Lan Wangji made no move to remove it, then tucked a second flower behind his own ear and twirling away to survey another plant, chattering away about different types of wildflowers and how they were often so much more beautiful untamed than cultivated.
Lan Wangji knew he was speaking only of flowers, but as a metaphor it was apt to Wei Ying's existence; he said nothing, only humming his general agreement.
"We were always happy to find these near Luanzang Gang," Wei Ying said after a moment of silence, his mood having shifted a bit. "The whole plant is edible."
He stood a little ahead, looking at the plant blankly, as though lost in memories, ones he rarely spoke of, and Lan Wangji was reminded of how he looked at a handful of Luanzang Gang soil before the Second Siege.
Wei Ying had told him, once, that he had few regrets in his past life, but among them was his failure to save the Wens—even knowing they were doomed, he regretted not achieving the impossible.
It was a spiral into darkness for him, something that happened occasionally, when the past pushed to the fore in his mind.
"Wei Ying," he called, feeling oddly as though space was stretching between them.
Wei Ying blinked and turned to him, seeming to come back to the present.
"Lan Zhan, you're keeping the flowers in your hair?"
"Mn. Wei Ying gave them."
The smile that bloomed across Wei Ying's face had an oddly vulnerable quality to it, fragile, and Lan Wangji was reminded of a startled rabbit, one that may bolt. He continued walking the path, touched a hand to Wei Ying's shoulder, gentle, brief. It seemed to unfreeze him.
"Aiya, Lan Zhan, you shouldn't do everything I ask!" he said, attempting a laugh that sounded forced.
Wei Ying had not asked him to wear the flowers, he didn't point out, simply put them in his hair. Lan Wangji paused to pluck one of the flowers his zhiji was still holding and tucked it into Wei Ying's crown, at the top of his ponytail, then resumed walking as though he had done nothing.
No steps sounded from behind him for a bit, and he wondered if Wei Ying felt the same about him tucking the flower into his hair as he did.
Then Wei Ying pranced up and tugged his sleeve, laughing and chattering.
"I keep forgetting you learned to tease while I was gone," he said almost boisterously, as though he wasn't talking about the thirteen years he had been dead.
Lan Wangji hummed noncommittally; he wasn't teasing, only following Wei Ying's whims as he had decided to do when he grabbed his wrist on Dafan Shan.
They walked in stilted silence until Lan Wangji tired of it and mentioned the coincidence of names between Wen Ning and A-Ning, and the Hu family's lack of literacy. It served the purpose of distracting Wei Ying entirely.
Wei Ying had been illiterate when Jiang Fengmian found him, his parents having died when he was four before he could start to learn, and so as it turned out he had opinions on how to best help later learners. Lan Wangji drank in the new knowledge about his brilliant zhiji, wondering how others could dismiss him so easily with how much he had overcome.
By the time they reached their destination he had already rambled out a week of lesson plans for the children, his focus no longer on the Wen remnants or his time in Luanzang Gang, his eyes no longer haunted.
A-Ning is named with the character 宁 for peaceful or tranquil, which is also the Ning in Wen Ning's name. Merakily recommended the name since my first choice sounded odd with the surname, so she helped me come up with possibilities including similar meanings. Ning added to the feeling of rightness for Lan Wangji, so I was immediately sold on it.
The Hu family character is 胡, which is a pretty common surname.
The species of otter Wei Wuxian is referring to is the smooth-coated otter.
Ke = about 15 minutes
