A/N: The design for Wei Sizhui's cultivation uniform is heavily based on Xiao Xingchen's black and white robes from when he first appears in The Untamed/CQL. The forehead ribbon is a loosely based on the Lan forehead ribbon design Lan Sizhui in the CQL mobile game.
Also, I chose Tengfei as Wei Sizhui's sword name for two reasons. 1) It means "soaring high" and I have high hopes for this little boyo. And 2) because I sat there and thought about that sword and just kept coming up with Tengfei's disgruntled expression and decided yet. Tengfei is now a sword too. Kudos to those who recognize the Easter egg here.
Chapter summary: In which Lan Xichen needs the freedom to cry, Lan Wangji is going to regret this in the morning, and Wei Sizhui gets to see his best friend.
2. New Life
Lan Wangji watched quietly as his older brother strode down the path, dry leaves and twigs crunching with every step. He didn't call out to Lan Xichen. He didn't have to. He knew his brother saw him.
He also knew Lan Xichen wasn't supposed to be here. It was earlier than usual. The spring rains were still looming threateningly on the horizon. Several of the rows of plants his people had worked hard to sow were just beginning to breach the soil. If luck held out, then they would have a more bountiful harvest this year than they ever had before.
So why was Lan Xichen here?
Lan Wangji stood silently as his older brother approached and catalogued the differences since Lan Xichen's last visit. There was a slight slump to Lan Xichen's shoulders that had been there since Nie Mingjue's death several years earlier. His smiles were sadder and seemed as if some heavy weight longed to tug them down to frowns instead. He wore white more often than the blues and grays he used to wear. Secretly, Lan Wangji wondered how much of that was personal preference and how much was due to continued mourning.
"Wangji," Lan Xichen greeted with a gentle smile when he finally reached the top of the hill at the edge of the settlement.
"Xiongzhang."
Lan Xichen's smile softened and he reached out a hesitant hand, gingerly taking Lan Wangji's fingers in his own. It wasn't much, but it felt like everything. They may not be the Twin Jades of Lan anymore, but they would always be the Twin Jades. They knew each other better than most. They spoke with their bodies, their faces, their gentle touches.
Lan Xichen had always been the more tactile of the brothers, but Lan Wangji still craved his brother's touches and gentle encouragement. He would never admit out loud how much he missed his brother's presence since he'd left the Lan Clan. Thankfully, he didn't have to. Lan Xichen knew. He always seemed to know.
"I'm sorry I'm early," Lan Xichen said. He reached into the folds of the white robes against his chest and pulled out two qiankun bags, pressing them into his younger brother's hands. "I took what I could. The books have been adjusted so no one should miss them."
Medicine and money then. Good. Wen Qing was beginning to fuss about the lack of funds to buy the herbs she needed to continue making medications. If Lan Xichen brought two qiankun bags full, then unless they have a serious incident, they should have enough medicine and money to last them a whole season.
"Also," Lan Xichen flicked a hand into one of his long, billowing white sleeves and revealed a much larger bag. This one wasn't a qiankun bag. It bulged at the seams and more than one piece of fabric spilled through the opening between the bag's mouth seam and the top flap.
Clothes and blankets.
Lan Xichen didn't hand the bag over immediately. Instead, he held it out to be inspected, head bowed as if ashamed. Lan Wangji pressed his lips together and reached out to untie the bag's flap and look inside. Sure enough, there were numerous folded clothes, some silk some not, all in the preferred black and white colors of Lan Wangji's small Sect.
Something clinked as Lan Wangji sifted through the clothing and he stilled. Slowing the movement of his hands, Lan Wangji carefully unwrapped a black silk shirt. His lips parted in surprise when he recognized the small, white jar of wine pillowed there.
"I know it's not much," Lan Xichen said gently, his amber eyes watching his brother with the faintest hint of hope. "I know it's not a special day or a festival day or a birthday." He licked his lips and drew a deep breath. "But I was hoping… I'm not expected back at Cloud Recesses for another day and I don't want... I was hoping we could…" The bag in his hands began shaking minutely. "I want to drink with you."
Cold fingers brushed Lan Wangji's and he sighed. Without a word, Lan Wangji closed the flap on the bag, tied it shut, took Lan Xichen's hand and pulled his brother past the wards and into the Yiling Wei Sect's settlement. His brother's startled gasp from the abrupt movement didn't bother Lan Wangji in the slightest. However, the subtle tightening of Lan Xichen's grip on his hand spoke the volumes that neither of them could say aloud.
They never did need words.
Wen Qing looked up from her desk of notes when she heard them enter the wood pavilion. Her eyes widened when she noticed Lan Xichen's presence but she said nothing. When her eyes latched onto the two Lan Clan qiankun bags, however, she gasped. Immediately, she stood and began to bow.
She never did complete her bow. Lan Xichen always caught her arms and pushed her back upright whenever she tried. But that wouldn't stop her from attempting it. She was a fierce woman and she knew better than anyone the risk Lan Xichen took by offering his help to their little Sect. Going against one's own Clan and the Cultivation World at large was never an easy choice.
"I didn't expect you here so soon, Clan Leader Lan," she said politely, taking the offered bags.
Lan Wangji watched as his brother grimaced. "I… I needed to get out," he whispered. "I don't know if you've heard yet but A-Yao… Someone tried to kill him."
What?!
"I got there in time to save him," Lan Xichen said, his voice treading over the shocked gasps. "Your medical knowledge was very useful, Lady Wen," he said, bowing formally to Wen Qing.
She quickly halted his bow just like he did hers. "If I can't bow to you," she said sternly, "then you can't bow to me." Her face softened slightly. "Not for something like this."
Lan Xichen hesitated before straightening with a self-deprecating smile. "I was able to save A-Yao, but not…" His expression fractured and a tear slipped down his face. "Not Jin Rusong. He was too ill and he hadn't formed his golden core yet. He was just too young. By the time I got there, he'd already…"
Ah. That explained why Lan Xichen chose to wear all white today instead of mostly white with hints of Lan blue. That was why he needed to drink. Why he came to Wangji instead of returning to Gusu.
Lan Wangji tightened his hold on his brother's hand in quiet understanding. The fluttering sigh that would have been a sob had they been alone was all the reply Lan Wangji needed. Wen Qing glanced at Lan Wangji, a sharp eyebrow lifting in silent inquiry. Lan Wangji nodded and she straightened, her shoulders settling into a proper posture.
"Thank you for the gifts, Clan Leader Lan," she said graciously, taking the two qiankun bags from Lan Xichen's hand.
Without waiting for either of them to reply, she returned to her makeshift desk and eagerly began pulling out the bags' components. She would examine each component, muttering under her breath and noting down into her ledger like she always did. It would take her the better part of the night, most likely. She wouldn't leave her desk until she was finished.
She wouldn't leave until she was certain both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were sound asleep.
Lan Wangji tugged his brother through the wooden pavilion and through the large wood and paper doors leading into the Demon Subdue Cave beyond. Over the years, from the combination of the settlers' hard work and Lan Xichen's secret donations, the Yiling Wei Sect had slowly managed to carve out a place for themselves here. The bare rock now had nooks and crannies filled with candles, pillows for sitting, books for reading, beds for sleeping, and so much more. It was a home now, not just a place to hide away from the world.
Without pausing to appreciate his home, Lan Wangji strode through the cavern with his brother to the small, secluded back room. This was where Wei Wuxian lived when he was still alive and where Lan Wangji stayed with Wei Sizhui now.
There wasn't much here aside from two beds, a low table with a perfectly tuned guqin sitting on it, and a few pillows to sit comfortably. Two unlit lanterns sat on the old stone floor at opposite ends of the room while unlit candles sat on the table and in a few uneven surfaces alone the wall.
Tonight, the Twin Jades would sit, drink, and play music until they couldn't anymore. The conversations would last long past the point of understanding, but very little of it would be said aloud. The Twin Jades weren't called the Twin Jades for appearances alone.
When the boy finally came in from the fields that night, sopping wet from the rain he couldn't escape fast enough and proudly holding a small pouch of sweets he'd bartered from Yiling, he was greeted by a relieved Wen Qing. His smile faded as he listened to her tell him the news of little Jin Rusong's death and Lan Xichen's unexpected visit.
When he entered his and his father's room, his smiled returned but with a tinge of sadness that hadn't been there half an incense stick ago. Both his father and his Uncle Xichen were sprawled on his father's bed, sound asleep. His uncle's stark Lan whites clashed with his father's midnight black.
Wangji, his father's guqin, sat on the cool stone floor next to his uncle's white jade xiao Liebing by the low table. An empty white jar of Emperor's Smile wine sat discarded on the table next to two small, porcelain cups, a new cast iron teapot, and an open tin of tea leaves.
Wei Sizhui decided to pass on Nie Zonghui's message about the discovery of the candidate for the Sacrifice Summon in the morning. They'd waited ten years. They could wait another night to pass the word. Still, he felt lonely.
He crawled into the bed between his father and his uncle and sighed. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now. Both his father and his uncle loved him. He could see it in the way they looked at him, hear it in their voices, and feel it in the way they snuggled minutely closer to him now in their drunken slumber.
Was it wrong that he wished his mother was here instead of Lan Xichen?
Not for the first time in the many years since he could remember, Wei Sizhui wanted his mother. He could barely remember his mother's smiles and laughter now. Sometimes, he could see a face in his dreams that spoke softly while spinning him around in the air. He could almost remember the look on his mother's face when he borrowed Chenqing and used it as his favorite chew toy. Wei Wuxian's shocked amusement was almost always followed by a thrilling chase.
But they were all memories now. Memories and stories his father Lan Wangji told him when the sun was gone from the sky and the nightmares threatened to keep him from sleep.
Aunt Wen Qing told him stories too, usually when she was filling him full of needles after he got hurt on another night-hunt. Somehow, in between turning Wei Sizhui into a pincushion, Wen Qing managed to lecture him about being more careful and rant about how much Wei Sizhui was taking after Wei Wuxian's bad habits.
No matter how hard he tried, Wei Sizhui couldn't be upset about that. Well, the needle part was always upsetting, but the stories, lectures, and rants were worth it. Wei Sizhui might not be able to remember Wei Wuxian's face as clearly as he desperately wished he could, but he had his mother's bad habits. If they brought a soft smile to his father's face, another frustrated rant from Wen Qing, and a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, then those bad habits were worth it.
One of those bad habits was Wei Sizhui's insatiable need to sneak around. He'd been getting good at it too. He still hadn't managed to sneak up on his father, and he knew better than to sneak up on Wen Qing. But he could sneak up on everyone else in Yiling and the entire Yiling Wei Sect settlement in the Burial Grounds.
There were more people here now. They'd started trickling in a handful at a time over the years. They came from all over the land. Most were from the more war-torn areas devastated during the Sunshot Campaign, but some came just because. They were a mix of regular people and cultivators. All of them seeking shelter, a place to stay, a safe haven of some kind.
At first, little Wei Sizhui and his fellow Wen Remnants were wary of the new arrivals. But slowly, with effort and a little bit of wary trust from both sides, the strangers began to integrate. The regular folk brought their knowledge, trades, and expertise to the settlement while the cultivators trained and taught one another.
Most of the cultivators were from one of the many Clans, minor and major, but many more were rogue cultivators who never belonged to a Clan before. The former Clan cultivators either no longer had a Clan because it was all but wiped out or they had defected from their Clan. Their reasoning varied from person to person, but in general it seemed that the inter-Clan strife during and after the Sunshot Campaign had left many cultivators disgruntled and uneasy with their positions.
Most of the former Major Clan cultivators were from the Lanling Jin Clan and of those, most were women. It certainly put an interesting perspective on things. Wei Sizhui learned long ago to listen to what was said and, more importantly, what was not said. Oftentimes, the most useful information was buried in a haphazard comment slung by a random person in an inn. Or in how the person talked about something rather than the words themselves. If it worked for investigating night-hunts, then it should work for regular conversations.
Which it did. Lan Wangji sometimes chided him about eavesdropping, but only when he made it obvious that he was doing so. When he was subtle, his father kept silent. That's when Wei Sizhui realized Lan Wangji was also eavesdropping. That one realization led to many more, including the most important lesson Wei Sizhui would ever learn.
Take the lone log bridge and do the right thing, no matter who is watching, no matter what others say, no matter what the price is, and never look back.
So Wei Yuan listened, he watched, and he learned.
Which, incidentally, was how he ended up here in Mo Village two years after Uncle Xichen's last unplanned visit. Just yesterday. he'd been standing watch in the Burial Mounds Settlement, waiting for Nie Zonghui to arrive with the latest word on Clan Leader Nie's plan to resurrect Wei Sizhui's mother. Clan Leader Nie was fairly certain he'd found the perfect candidate but was keeping the candidate's identity a secret for the time being to be sure nothing and no one interfered with his plan.
It was maddening. Understandable, but maddening.
The butterfly messenger he'd received from Lan Jingyi requesting Wei Sizhui join him on a night-hunt had been both a relief and an annoyance. It was a relief because he could finally see his best friend Lan Jingyi again after months being apart. It was an annoyance because it meant he wouldn't be the first to get Nie Zonghui's message. Still, he'd waited thirteen years for this. What was a couple more days?
The moment he saw the mischievous grin on Lan Jingyi's face, Wei Sizhui knew he'd made the right decision. Lan Jingyi might have the Lan Clan name and a ribbon with woven clouds designating him an inner family member, but he certainly didn't act like it. He was brash, outspoken, and often downright rude.
Lan Jingyi didn't care that Wei Sizhui was a rogue cultivator living with Lan Wangji. He didn't care about what the Black Jade of Yiling meant to people. He didn't care about class, or Clan, or Sect, or anything. He did care about his friends, and food. Food was one of the best motivators in Lan Jingyi's book. The best part was that both Wei Sizhui's father and Clan Leader Lan Xichen endorsed their friendship, often going out of their way to encourage it.
Through Lan Jingyi, Wei Sizhui became friends with Ouyang Zizhen from the Baling Ouyang Clan, a minor Clan that was growing in power and affluence. Many believed the Baling Ouyang Cla would one day become a Major Clan. You wouldn't know it just from looking at Ouyang Zizhen, though. Together, Wei Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and Ouyang Zizhen had gotten into so many scrapes that Wei Sizhui wondered how they got away with it all. It was mind boggling.
Unfortunately, Ouyang Zizhen wouldn't be joining them on tonight's night-hunt since, technically, only the Lan Clan had been asked to do the exorcism. Good thing Lan Jingyi didn't care about such things as Clan territory, Clan preeminence, and other 'technicalities.'
Wei Sizhui had been so excited, he'd jumped on his sword and flown to the little inn in Mo Village as soon as he got permission from his Sect. He had his emergency flares, he had a few smoke bombs, some of his mother's Talismans, a guqin, some food, and even some medicines from Wen Qing all stuffed in his qiankun bag.
Now, though, he wasn't sure if coming was the right thing to do. Madam Mo had not been pleased to learn the esteemed Gusu Lan Clan was 'cavorting' with rogue cultivators. She'd refused to even let Wei Sizhui inside. It had take Lan Jingyi threatening to walk out on the night-hunt all together and drop a word in Clan Leader Lan's ear that the Mo Village didn't actually want help at all. That instead they just wanted the right to brag about hosting cultivators from a Major Clan in their home. Well, Jingyi might have also let drop that he'd been tutored under Clan Leader Lan Xichen himself and that Wei Sizhui had been trained by Lan Wangji, the infamous Black Jade of Yiling, as well.
Wei Sizhui had been expecting backlash for that. But it never came. Well, it never came openly anyway. For all his fall from grace, Lan Wangji was still widely respected for his prowess in battle, his immense spiritual power, his vast knowledge, and his knack for appearing in the midst of chaos and helping whoever needed it, regardless of Clan, Sect, or otherwise.
The Black Jade of Yiling's fledgling Yiling Wei Sect was almost as legendary as the immortal Baoshan Sanren's divine mountain and just as impossible to fine. The Yiling Wei Sect welcomed the regular folk and rogue cultivators who were clever enough to find its hiding place. Supposedly, Lan Wangji started the Yiling Wei Sect in the Burial Mounds where the Yiling Patriarch once layered before it vanished without a trace. The Sect was secretive and never once made a move to join the Clans or rival the Clans. It simply existed.
In most cases, Wei Sizhui had no trouble joining a night-hunt as a rogue cultivator without claiming a Clan or Sect. In more difficult situations, Lan Wangji's name tended to ease the more hesitant clients. But the fact Lan Jingy went so far as to bring the the Gusu Lan Clan Leader's name into this situation too… Well, there wasn't much Madam Mo could do after that except deal with the haunting herself or acquiesce to Lan Jingyi's threat and allow Wei Sizhui in.
Thus Wei Sizhui found himself kneeling on the floor of the Mo Family's receiving room in the black and white robes of the Yiling Wei Sect, his red forehead ribbon, and his sword Tengfei in his lap. His robes were made of the best silk he had and they breathed well in the warm humidity of the spring sunlight. He'd gone through several secondhand robes for night-hunts over the years since his little Sect didn't have much money and resources to get fresh, tailored silk robes.
Brushing his fingers against the crimson forehead ribbon, Wei Sizhui sighed. He may not be an official member of the Lan Clan or related to the Lans by blood, but the Clan Leader's brother Lan Wangji was Wei Sizhui's father by adoption. That alone earned him the ribbon but it took both his father and his uncle Lan Xichen begging him for Wei Sizhui to give in and wear it. It was both a reminder that he had a home, a family, and that he had a safe place to go back to. No matter what happened in the future.
The ribbon itself was just a crimson ribbon with branches of plum blossoms embroidered into the silk by Uncle Four with a little green jade pendant sewn into place by Granny before they died years ago. It was a simple ribbon that meant the world to him. It was a reminder of who he was, where he came from, who his parents were, and that he had friends.
Madam Mo was still droning on, praising her family, bemoaning thei dismal fate at the hands of this haunting, and flauting her family's wealth with fine food and insults thinly veiled by manners. Wei Sizhui glanced at Lan Jingyi through the corner of his eye and bit back a snort at his friend's obviously bored expression. Jingyi twitched and reached up to scratch his neck, a tiny flicker of gold fluttering briefly into view before-
:Damn, this bitch can talk and flutter like a fucking peacock.:
Do not laugh. Do not. Do not!
Who knew anyone from the Lan Clan had such dirty mouths. Wei Sizhui's heart warmed. He wasn't in this alone. If nothing else, he had his best friend's sarcastic disposition to weather the Mo Family's contempt and prejudice. It couldn't be too bad.
"With my blood…"
…Jiang Cheng…
"…drawn by my hand…"
I'm frightened.
"…I sacrifice my body to you…"
I'm lonely.
"…my soul shall disappear…"
I'm going to die here.
"…Humbly, I await you…"
I'm sorry.
"…Yiling Patriarch…"
…Lan…Wangji…
"Wei Wuxian!"
The air exploded in ear-ringing silence.
A body fell to the dirt with a soft thump.
No voice screamed, no birds sang, no wind blew, no breath passed lips.
Where am I…
The dead breathed life once more.
