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 Two

As Lan Wangji carefully carries him to the barely-padded flat boulder that serves as his bed, he catalogs what must be done—a letter to Xichen with an invitation to visit (if the Wens are amenable), the purchase of proper supplies, perhaps helping Wei Ying cleanse himself of resentful energy so it does not damage him… if he is now willing to allow his help, now that the misunderstanding has been cleared.

Wen Qing is waiting in the cave. She sighs when she sees him, helping him situated Wei Ying on what passes for his bed before removing his belt and opening the top of his robes in a clinical manner, revealing a rather ugly bruise on his sternum near the Wen brand scar. Worse, it makes very clear how emaciated he is, his ribs prominent, his skin the color of paper.

Lan Wangji can see other scars, including a mottled one that starts above his solar plexus and disappears under his robes. It has surgical precision, and he knows what it's from. His urge to place his hand over it is inappropriate at best, and he instead busies himself removing Wei Ying's shoes.

He remembers the cave, Wei Ying's assertion regarding scars, and knows there are others hidden, and not just on his body.

"This idiot," Wen Qing mutters, pressing lightly around the injury. "At least he's not broken any ribs."

She completely ignores Lan Wangji for the moment, crossing the room to grab a small container, which turns out to contain a salve. After spreading it over the bruise, she rearranges his robes, not bothering with the belt, covering him with a meagre, threadbare blanket.

The cave is chilly, and with an injury and no golden core… Lan Wangji supplements, pulling a heavier outer robe from his qiankun pouch to drape over him.

"At least I don't have to drug him to get him to sleep this time," she says, her tone tart but laced with worry. She reaches forward to wipe at Wei Ying's face with a sleeve, gently removing what remains of his tears.

He glances at her, concerned at the implication she has before. That he needs it to sleep.

She inclines her head. "You have questions."

"Yes." He realizes he has told Wei Ying, but has not asked the Wens; this is, after all, their home. "I intend to stay."

Her lips thin, and her gaze sharpens. "For how long?"

Wen Qing's tone isn't without judgment, and Lan Wangji deems it fair. He has failed Wei Ying, and failed to honor the promise they made in childhood, has failed to pursue justice in favor of appeasing sect politics.

"Indefinitely."

Tension seems to ease from her small frame, leaving her just looking tired.

"Good. He needs an ally, at least."

Something in her voice, in the way she says 'ally,' implies she believes he is more; she's not wrong, but it is not something he intends to discuss with her.

"The surgery," Lan Wangji states simply.

Wen Qing indicates a seat, and he quickly is glad to be seated. The details of Wei Ying's sacrifice, the pain he endured without relief nonstop for days with only a fifty percent chance, how he had treated the gifting of his core as a necessity out of filial piety. How he had expressed that this was his duty, to protect Jiang Wanyin with his life, his insistence that if the Jiangs had not taken him in off the streets as a child, he would never have had a golden core, so he owed the sacrifice.

Lan Wangji tries to imagine whether he could bring himself to do such a thing for Xichen, and finds he can't. He would give his life for his brother, but the idea of giving his core is impossible. And yet Wei Ying had, without hesitation, gone far beyond duty. Wei Ying, who gives of himself until he has nothing left to give, and yet still tries to give more.

He only realizes tears stream down his face when Wen Qing hands him a cloth, her face composed but her eyes expressing regret.

"Wen Chao apparently caught him in Yiling before Jiang Cheng returned," Wen Qing says eventually. "He was still recovering from the surgery, and without a golden core…"

The idea of Wei Ying helpless and alone, faced with certain death, with no one to come to his aid… And yet Lan Wangji is certain he faced Wen Chao with defiance. Wei Ying, who could fight so brilliantly with his mind and mouth, would have refused to show fear—would have unleashed both mind and mouth to their full capacity with the knowledge he was doomed anyway.

But he must have been terrified.

Lan Wangji is starting to agree that, as gruesome as his death had been, Wen Chao had died too easily.

"He boasted of beating him and throwing him here." She smiles, but it's without mirth. "A-Ning begged me to let him come here, to search. But no one comes out of the Burial Mounds."

"Before him."

Wei Ying strives for the impossible, always, and achieved it in surviving. But Lan Wangji knows perhaps not all of him did return, that he'd lost pieces of himself to whatever he experienced. In so many ways, Wei Ying had lost more than anyone else had in the war, and only continues to lose. He remembers the cold way Wei Ying looked at him when he and Jiang Wanyin had found him finally, the way he'd pushed him away.

He had wondered then if it had been the demonic cultivation, but he feels now it was more likely fear and trauma and perhaps Wei Ying feeling as though he was unsuitable for Lan Wangji's company, pushing him away before he could be pushed, fearing judgment.

And unknowingly, Lan Wangji had done exactly that. .

Wen Qing nods. "He doesn't talk about his time here. But his nightmares..."

Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying, who appears for now to be sleeping peacefully. He has seen him after the defeat of Xuanwu, burning with fever, half-conscious, babbling in terror of dogs and whips, calling for his parents. He had done his best to soothe him then.

"I will never do that surgery again. I wish I'd never come up with the idea," she says softly, her own gaze on his still form. "I regretted it the moment his golden core was in my hands. It was so radiant, and I was taking it from him."

He cannot imagine it and does not wish to; Wei Ying's very essence torn from him by his consent. It takes him a moment to collect himself.

"If not for the resentful energy… if he was cleansed of it… Could he cultivate another golden core?"

This late in Wei Ying's life, it would be a weak one, but...

"I doubt it," Wen Qing answers honestly. "I suspect the scarring of the lower dantian would prevent that. I have no idea for sure, of course. Everything was just theory, and now he's living it. It's the same with the resentful energy; I have no idea how it could impact his mind and body long-term. Or if it's even just resentful energy, and not a combination of that and the loss of his golden core and trauma..."

Lan Wangji watches her as she trails off, noticing her discontent. Wei Ying had joked about her sternness, but it clearly comes from a place of caring.

"I told him he should leave, you know," she says finally. "That he'd done enough to help us, that he owes us nothing more. And he pretended he didn't even hear me."

He'd love to be able to tell her Wei Ying doesn't think in terms of owing and being owed. But more realistically, it's that Wei Ying feels he owes of himself more than he can ever give, while others owe him nothing.

"He will not leave you unprotected," Lan Wangji finally says.

"I know. It doesn't seem to matter what it costs him."

He realizes abruptly that she understands Wei Ying perfectly in this, as he does. That she has seen that he will sacrifice everything for others. That it pains her just as much to see it.

"He gives his rations to A-Yuan most of the time. You probably noticed how unhealthy he is." Wen Qing fixes him with a look he can only describe as beseeching. "I don't care what else you do, if you help with the farming or whatever. Just help him."

"I intend to." Lan Wangji fishes his money purse out and hands it to her. "I will assist in any way possible. This should help to begin with."

The way her eyes widen, he realizes to her what he carries is a small fortune, and knows it likely would be to Wei Ying as well. He remembers hearing gossip, once among Cloud Recesses students, that after the death of his parents Wei Ying had been a street urchin for several years before being found by Jiang Fengmian, before being brought back to Lotus Pier. The lowly son of a servant. Though the gossip had been meant to put Wei Ying down, it had given Lan Wangji more respect for him, that he could smile, could make friends so easily, could be so powerful a cultivator and swordsman after having been through such hardship.

"We were going to have a special dinner tonight, to thank him. But I think we'll need to hold off, at least until tomorrow night." She smiles. "And perhaps a trip to town tomorrow will give a-Ning more to cook with. He'd be happier if the food was anything but radishes, I'm sure."

"I will need to send a message to inform my brother of my decision," he tells her. "He may wish to come here, to speak with me."

Wen Qing studies him for a moment, and nods. "I can warn the others. Honestly, Gusu Lan worries me the least of the four main sects. Your brother's reputation is honorable."

He inclines his head in silent thanks before a murmur catches their attention, a shifting of fabric as Wei Ying moves restlessly in his sleep.

With Wen Qing's mention of nightmares and the damage resentful energy could be doing to Wei Ying in mind, Lan Wangji manifests his guqin and starts "Cleansing." He has played this for him before, at the end of the war during his days-long unconsciousness and for a bit afterward.

How much pain could have been prevented, had he realized Wei Ying's sacrifice earlier? What more could he have done to ease his pain? Regret cloaks him, weights him, and he plays for himself as well.

...and to live without regrets…

He remembers a brighter Wei Ying, so many years ago it seems now, releasing a lantern he had deftly painted with rabbits for him. That part of his pledge, the pledge he had echoed, the pledge it seems he needs to work harder to fulfill.

Lan Wangji cannot change the past; he can only move forward, acknowledge his mistakes and work to lessen the damage done and prevent further ill effects.

Wei Ying settles quickly, and he runs through the notes only once for now, stilling the strings when he's finished.

"He's played that here," Wen Qing says in the silence that follows. "On his dizi."

He wouldn't be able to infuse spiritual energy into it to make it effective, but Lan Wangji wonders if the music is comforting to him regardless.

He wonders, selfishly, if Wei Ying has played it thinking of him.

"He plays another one more often, though. A-Yuan loves that one."

She hums a few notes, and Lan Wangji feels struck dumb, frozen.

Wei Ying plays "WuJi," remembers it.

His fingers pluck the tune, running through the song he wrote for Wei Ying so many years ago, the song he played for him only once. The song he plays now, hoping it eases his dreams further.

Wen Qing is watching him when he stills the strings.

"I wrote it. For him."

He doesn't owe her the information, but he shares it anyway.

"You're exactly who he needs." Wen Qing's smile transforms her, edging away the exhaustion that seems etched in her features. "You should tell him."

Lan Wangji knows she means more than the song. "I thought he knew."

He had told Wei Ying the name of the song in the cave, had thought the sentiment behind it was known, but Wei Ying had been burning with fever at the time, had fallen into fevered dreams, and Lan Wangji can't be sure he even heard the name at all. And the next time he'd seen him, it was after he'd gone missing, and Wei Ying been twisted by his experiences.

"Wei Wuxian is a genius, but he's also an idiot." Wen Qing's smile turns bitter. "He's the kind of person who cares for everyone but believes himself unworthy of anyone's care. He won't know. Not unless he's told."

Possibly the worst thing about her observation is how true it rings, how much it tracks with everything Lan Wangji has seen of Wei Ying. She doesn't need to say what's implied: that even told, Wei Ying may still feel unworthy. He does not recognize his own value.

"He is worthy," he finally says, and knows it only touches the surface of how he feels about Wei Ying. "He is deserving."

And Lan Wangji will spend the rest of their lives ensuring he understands that.


I had intended this to be a one-shot, but isn't that how this always works? Yay, canon-divergence! Also, I did research on golden cores and qi for some details.