this body yet survives
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Two
Wangji knew when he knocked on the door to Wei Ying's quarters carrying a tray of breakfast to share and received no answer that today was potentially a bad day.
The day before, shufu and xiongzhang had done as they had discussed over morning tea and spoken to the Jiang siblings in order to clarify Wei Ying's position as disciple in the sect, should he desire such; from his understanding, Jiang Yanli had cried in relief at the news, while Jiang Cheng had asked whether his brother was aware yet and had been furious when the answer was no. He had all but demanded they speak to him as soon as possible.
The plan had been to discuss it with him today, but if Wei Ying was doing poorly the offer could overwhelm him more.
When Wangji opened the door, carefully balancing the tray on one hand he found Wei Ying half-dressed, curled on the bed, his face blank, the simple wooden guan he had been using to keep his hair in its crown broken in his hands. Scattered across the floor were several guan, trailing from an open pouch; all of them were adorned with lotuses.
He immediately understood the problem: the lotuses reminded him of what had been lost, potentially of even struggling not to drown while weighed down floating among them. Wei Ying had never spoken of the experience, but in the year since it had become all too easy for Wangji to imagine.
Wangji set the tray down on the low table, then scooped the guan back into the pouch so they would no longer be in Wei Ying's line of vision.
Wangji felt helpless, limited in what he could do aside from remove the offending objects. He could not change what had occurred or help Wei Ying regain what he had lost. He could only try to help him build a new home here.
He sat beside him on the bed and reached out to touch his shoulder. Wei Ying's flinch was unexpected and heartbreaking, but his eyes focused quickly.
"Lan Zhan?"
"Mm, I am here."
"It broke," he whispered, his voice mournful. "It's not a big deal, not important. But all the others…"
A tear traced its way down his face, curving around his nose. Wangji tried not to be alarmed; he'd come to understand it was good for Wei Ying to cry, to let out the pain rather than bottle it inside where it could eat away at his spirit.
"I put them away. We will eat breakfast, and then go to the jingshi. You will borrow one of mine."
He was glad Lan Mingkai knew there would be days Wei Ying would not be able to attend his lessons, as he believed today would be such a day. All of Wei Ying's instructors were aware, given the public way in which he had been harmed, and accommodated him with kindness. None of them would be offended by his absence.
He could tell Wei Ying's attention was on him, his eyes clear despite the tears, and thought perhaps today could be salvaged after all.
"We can go to Caiyi this morning and purchase a new guan in the market. Perhaps stay for lunch, if you like."
Though shufu and xiongzhang had put together a betrothal gift to present to the Jiang siblings when he asked for their blessing to court Wei Ying, Wangji could surely find something to add to it, something perhaps more personal for each of them.
Wei Ying nodded. He let go of the broken guan and held out a hand to Wangji, a silent request he didn't mind fulfilling, and he gently took his hand and pulled him into a sitting position.
"Shijie usually cooks lunch," he murmured as Wangji helped him up and led him to the table so they could eat. "So we should let her know before we go."
Wangji nodded; always, Wei Ying thought of others. He hoped to help him think of himself.
"We will. If they are not awake when we leave, then we will leave a note."
Wangji had placed a container of chili oil on the tray with their morning congee, and was happy when Wei Ying added a liberal amount to his breakfast. When he was struggling, he often simply ate it plain, despite his often loud complaints at the tastelessness of it when he had originally come to study. Whether he spiced his meal was often a good gauge of his mental state. Further, he was eating without requiring prompting.
All good signs.
When they had finished, he asked Wei Ying where his comb was, and received a blank stare for a moment.
"You gave me a comb," Wei Ying murmured, almost in realization, looking at him apologetically. "I… It was hard to think then. It didn't really register."
He opened a drawer in his dressing table and stood staring at the comb, long enough that Wangji came to stand beside him. Wei Ying reached forward, removing the comb with a sort of reverence.
Wangji realized Wei Ying was truly seeing the gift for the first time, and he knew he was enough a master of the six arts to know the symbolism of a gift of a comb carved with orchids. A comb itself symbolized one's wish to grow old with the recipient. Orchids could mean many things, but carved on a comb would imply love.
He had given it meaning for it to be a confession, but now he knew Wei Ying had been too lost in his trauma-induced fog to see it.
The comb was carved of sandalwood, which calmed shen, helping to ease depression and insomnia, to heal and protect, to remove negative energy and help regulate qi. Wangji used sandalwood incense himself, and found it soothing, as he hoped Wei Ying would be soothed.
He tried not to think about the further properties—that sandalwood was considered an aphrodisiac.
Wei Ying's hand was shaking as he held the comb, and when he looked at Wangji there were tears in his eyes.
"Really?" he whispered. "Me?"
"It cannot be anyone but you."
Wangji wanted to say more, but he had never been good with words, which was why he had turned to music to reach Wei Ying.
That he wanted to wake by his side every morning, night hunt with him, go wherever he wished to go, cherish him as he deserved.
"I… and 'WangXian,' Lan Zhan…"
Wei Ying looked almost overwhelmed, and Wangji tried to tread carefully.
"I hope to ask your siblings for their blessing to court you later today," Wangji admitted. "Shufu and xiongzhang have given their blessing. They wish to speak with you."
Wei Ying stared at him, so still he was almost not breathing, and Wangji wondered if he had made assumptions.
"Only if you consent to be courted," he added softly. "I understand if you prefer otherwise."
When Wei Ying spoke finally, his breath came out almost as a sob, his voice shaky, his eyes wet.
"Lan Zhan… You're so good, and I'm nothing. The son of a servant. I have nothing to offer you. I… I can barely function some days. You deserve better."
His voice was grieved. Wangji hated to hear him degrade himself, hated hearing Madam Yu's awful words from his mouth as though they were true.
"Wei Ying, I do not want anyone but you."
Wangji stepped forward, taking the hand in which Wei Ying held the comb, gently bending his fingers around it.
"You are Wei Ying. You are everything."
Another tear made its way down Wei Ying's cheek and Wangji longed to wipe it away, but Wei Ying was trembling, and he didn't wish to startle him.
"For a long time, I thought you hated me, Lan Zhan."
The words horrified him, that he had led Wei Ying to think he saw him so negatively. But he had difficulty expressing himself, so clearly he had acted in such a manner.
"I have never hated you. You… confused me. I am sorry I gave you that impression."
Wei Ying was opening crying now, making no attempt to stem his tears.
"I… I'm glad. After, when you said I would come to Gusu, I thought maybe I was wrong, that you didn't really hate me," he whispered. "You held my hand, by the river. You stayed with me, and you've stayed with me ever since."
Wangji gently squeezed his hand, taking care not to exert too much pressure and damage the comb. In asking, he had put too much pressure on Wei Ying, pressure that could damage him, given his fragility in the aftermath of his near-death and loss of home.
"You need not answer now. I do not wish to pressure you. If you do not wish to be courted by me, I wish to remain friends regardless."
Wei Ying's mouth opened and closed a few times before he found his voice.
"We're friends? You really mean it?"
Wangji nodded, saddened that he let Wei Ying think they were not. But in the year since his near death, he had learned much about Wei Ying's lack of self-esteem.
"You called me zhiji," he reminded him softly. "I do not disagree."
The tremulous smile he received relieved a tension in him. Whether Wei Ying wished to be courted did not matter in this moment. What mattered was his health and happiness.
"Come," he said, letting go of Wei Ying's hand. "You may choose one of my guan to wear and we will go to Caiyi today."
Wangji offered him a cloth to wipe his tear and pulled the jade plum blossom hairstick he had gifted him from the container of calligraphy brushes on his desk. It would serve to fasten any of the guan Wei Ying might choose. He selected one of the crimson ribbons he had given Wei Ying from his dressing table, then set the tray outside for one of the servants to pick up while Wei Ying finished dressing.
The walk to the jingshi was short and they encountered no one, but Wei Ying clung to his sleeve, head down, almost hiding against him. Wangji didn't know the reason—it could be as simple as feeling underdressed with his hair down or it could be more profound—but he kept a steady pace so he could feel secure within the jingshi as soon as possible.
Shortly, they were settled at a low table, Wangji's box of guan in front of them. For perhaps the first time, he realized how many of them were cloud themed, similar to Wei Ying's collection of lotus guan.
Wei Ying looked hesitant, and Wangji remembered shufu and xiongzhang had not yet made his position in Gusu Lan clear—that was to be part of the discussion later today. Perhaps then he would feel comfortable wearing such a guan.
Wangji picked through the pieces until he found one that wasn't, a guan of white jade carved in the shape of a cluster of gentians, a gift left by his mother for him to wear when he came of age.
He had never worn it, but he would not be averse to Wei Ying doing so. It would, in fact, work quite well with the plum blossom hair stick, also made of white jade, and he was fond of the mixture of meanings. Gentians for intrinsic worth, plum blossoms for perseverance and hope.
"This was a gift from my mother," he told Wei Ying, determined not to lie by omission. "She was a very lively person, much like you. You may wear it."
Before the incident, Wei Ying had been lively like his mother; after, less so. But he hoped still to bring him back to himself.
"Your mother?" Wei Ying asked.
"Mn. She died when I was six."
Wei Ying looked startled, pulling his hand back.
"I… it's too important, then. Not something I should wear."
Wangji caught his hand, found Wei Ying's fingers cold against his. He set the guan down to clasp his hand in both of his, for warmth as well as closeness.
"Wei Ying, I can think of no one more appropriate to wear it. If only to Caiyi, though I would not mind if you wore it always."
Wei Ying blushed, looking down at the table.
"I asked you," he finally said. "Back when I was here the first time."
"Asked me what?" Wangji asked, confused by the change in topic.
With his free hand, Wei Ying reached forward and with his index and middle fingers tugged on Wangji's sleeve.
Wangji stared at him, baffled by the gesture, though he remembered it from the night he had caught Wei Ying drinking with Nie Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin.
Wei Ying laughed softly, the sound beautiful to Wangji.
"You didn't get it, then."
He held up his hand in the same gesture, moving the two fingers together in a cutting motion like a pair of shears, and awareness washed over Wangji.
Wei Ying had, all the way back then, been asking if he cut his sleeve.
Wei Ying had propositioned him, all the way back then.
"There is only you," Wangji said, feeling breathless. "There was only ever you."
Certainly, loving Wei Ying meant he cut his sleeve, but he had never had interest in anyone before him. No one before him had tried to get to know Wangji, sought his company, wanted to be around him.
"For you, I do," he said finally.
Wei Ying blushes, ducking his head.
"I… I'll wear the guan," he murmured, looking up through his lashes at WangJi.
He seemed to be consenting to more than that, to being courted, but Wangji would still wait until he was ready to say so more clearly.
Instead he held out his hand, beckoning for the comb.
"May I do your hair for you?"
"Yes," Wei Ying breathed, handing him the comb.
Wangji retrieved the sandalwood-scented hair oil from his dressing table and settled behind Wei Ying. Perhaps in Caiyi they could purchase some in a scent his zhiji would prefer. Wangji imagined orange and cinnamon would fit him best. Oranges for happiness and abundance, something he had always associated with Wei Ying, and cinnamon for his liveliness and love of spice. That both, he had learned, could ease anxiety and depression was also fortuitous.
He gently worked out the tangles using the oil until the teeth of the comb passed through without catching. Wei Ying, he could tell, nearly fell asleep several times. Wangji had allowed the process to go more slowly than it needed to, enjoying the silky feel of Wei Ying's hair in his hands.
When it came to the style, Wangji was only familiar with Gusu Lan style, and so he gently separated sections of the hair, styling it as he would his own, a bun at the crown with the guan and hairstick fastening it. He weaved the red ribbon into the hair pulled from the side to keep the crown in place. For himself, he used his forehead ribbon. For Wei Ying, he braided the sections of hair with the ribbon for better stability, then let the ends of the ribbon cascade with the rest of his hair.
He wished the process took longer, that he could linger in the intimacy of the moment, but he withdrew his hands and let himself enjoy the sight of Wei Ying with a red ribbon in his hair, as he should , after so many months without.
Wei Ying let him pull him to a mirror to see the results, and stood still, staring at his reflection for a while before he reached up and ran a finger over the guan and hairstick, touched the short braid down his back and the ribbon.
Then he smiled, a hint of brightness, a little mischief in his grey eyes.
"Once you ask, Jiang Cheng will insist we be chaperoned," Wei Ying said finally. "He's… a little overprotective."
Wangji swallowed, trying not to remember blue lips.
"As he should be," he replied.
Not being overprotective had almost led to Wei Ying's murder, and still a year later Wangji didn't want to leave his side for a moment. Jiang Wanyin's own mother had attempted to kill his brother, and he had watched his decline as well. Of course he would feel overprotective, though Wangji hoped not against him.
The smile was sad for a moment as his meaning sunk in, but Wei Ying shook his head.
"I mean this will be our last morning just us for a while."
Wangji felt his ears heat, suggestions running through his mind that certainly should not be acted upon before marriage. The crimson ribbon caught his eye, and for a moment he imagined Wei Ying in red and gold, imagined exchanging forehead ribbons with him, imagined…
Before he could shake the image from his head to respond, Wei Ying darted in and kissed his cheek, blushing.
"So let's have fun in Caiyi today," he said, then flounced away.
Wangji's mind took a moment to catch up, to understand Wei Ying had just consented to be courted, had acknowledged his intentions and what would change.
As Wei Ying moved toward the jingshi door, Wangji wondered if it was possible to die of desire.
I was tempted to reference Chang'e and Houyi, regarding the cinnamon (and rabbits), but that's more of a sad tale of separation, so I decided not to. I did some research on courtship for this and explored more of Lan Wangji's symbolic reasons for the gifts, including the ones he's considering getting for Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian, for his part, feels he can no longer wear the lotus, and the symbol can even trigger him, which is why Lan Wangji finds him in that state. It's also why he hasn't unpacked. As the head disciple of YunMeng Jiang sect, can you imagine how much of his clothing has lotus imagery embroidered into it?
This chapter didn't go the way I expected it to, but I like where it went. Also, yes, there is a scene in CQL with the cut sleeve gesture.
Also, the gifting of an heirloom (which the gentian guan would be) is essentially a love token, and is a pretty big thing. By consenting to wear it, Wei Wuxian is essentially announcing his acceptance of Lan Wangji's love.