Jiang-guniang is sitting at her brother's bedside when he quietly slides open the door. She's whispering something gentle into the man's ear and immediately he starts to retreat. This is a moment not to be shared or overheard by outsiders. But before he can step out the threshold, the woman's louder voice catches him off guard.
"Lan-ergongzi, please come join me."
He steps forward and gives a polite bow to her which she returns with a nod. Glancing over Wei Ying's frail and slumbering form, he looks, really looks, across the wide range of bandages for the first time. There's a sickening variety of punishments all strategically inflicted in places that clearly spoke of torture, not accident. Wherever he had been, someone had been keeping him there.
His fingernails were ragged and bleeding, like he was forced to drag his unwilling body across the ground. Maybe he had.
Taking one of Wei Ying's bruised and bloody hands in his own, he wets a cloth and washes the skin. Later, he could find a filing stone and sort out the man's nails but right now, he just needed to feel close to him. Three months had passed and the absent space beside Lan Wangji had felt cavernous, inescapable. Now the space had been filled again, if only by a small candle. It would take nurturing and tending to grow into its once-inferno.
The hand in his twitches and he nearly drops it in his shock. A small groan slips from the laying man's lips and his eyes open just a sliver.
He can't hide the relief in his voice, "Wei Ying?!"
"Lan Zhan? Your forehead is so big."
"A-Xian! You can't say things like that!" Jiang-guniang scolds gently from behind him and Lan Wangji self-consciously lets go of Wei Ying's hand. He shifts to the side to let the woman in to see her brother.
"Shijie? You're here too?"
"Of course I am, A-Xian. You're back home, in Lotus Pier."
The man's brow scrunches in confusion, "Home? How did I get home? I was…" But his voice fades before he can finish the sentence.
"We were hoping you might know the answer to that question. Lan-ergongzi found you in the courtyard."
"I don't- Shijie, I don't, I don't-" Wei Ying's voice is agitated and there's a torment in his eyes that stings.
"Hush, A-Xian. It's okay, you don't need to have the answers right now. Right now, you just need to rest." With a gentle touch, she reaches to brush a greasy lock of hair aside from his face but the man startles so sharply Wangji's sword arm clenches automatically. Wei Wuxian throws himself further away on the bed, out of the reach of her touch.
"Wei Ying? Should I send for the physician?"
From his tight form, he shakes his head, "No, no. I just need to be alone for a minute. Can you, can you just go?"
If her brother's strange behaviour alarmed Jiang Yanli, she gave no reaction. She could be a Lan with this level of emotional control. With a quiet grace, she stands up and adjusts her robes before placing a folded blanket on the bed beside her brother.
"Of course, A-Xian. Lan-ergongzi will be in the next room if you need him, okay? I'll have the kitchen send up some food for you both."
The door slides shut behind her and the high emotions seem to deflate.
"Lan Zhan?" His voice is so unsure and Wangji feels his heart shudder.
"Mn?"
"I-" Wei Ying starts to say but his eyes lock onto the other man's odd attire and his focus shifts. "Why are you wearing grey?"
He hesitates, unsure of how to broach this subject. Rule seventy-eight, do not use frivolous words. "Jiang Wanyin has banned me from Lotus Pier."
Some of Wei Ying's old fire flickers in his eyes, "He what?!"
"Your physician and a groundskeeper assisted in sneaking me in but I needed disguise to cover my robes."
"I knew he disliked the Lan but to do that, that's nearly a declaration of war…" He laughs abruptly. It's harsh and tainted with acerbity. "The great Lan-ergongzi, breaking the rules of two sects just to come visit the child of a servant. If your uncle could see you now."
"Wei Ying is not just the child of a servant." Not to me, he adds mentally.
A peculiar expression crosses Wuxian's face like he can't decide whether to make a joke or not. In the end, he decides against it and the exhaustion can be seen sinking in.
"I will leave you now. I'm residing in the room next door for the time being. Do not hesitate to ask should you need something."
Wei Ying nods instinctually, eyes fixed at his feet.
"Wei Ying," He finds himself saying, "I am glad you are back."
It's nearing dawnbreak when he first hears it. It sounds like singing, quiet and mournful, and it's coming from the other room. He leaps out of the bed and peers around the screen.
The melody is familiar but it's not the harmonious refrain he had written it to be. Wangxian was meant as a love song; but this, this is a desperate lullaby.
Wei Ying lays in bed, moonlight glinting off the sweat on his forehead. He's still asleep, singing like it is the only thing keeping him alive.
"Wei Ying, wake up." The man does not wake but his brow crinkles. He raises his voice a little more but dares not touch him, "Wei Ying."
The man finally stops, the last few notes of Wangxian despondent. It's too quiet in the compound to play Rest or Clarity on the qin but oh how Wangji wants to soothe the man's mind. His voice is soft as he sings in return, replacing the ghostly love song with the calming rise and fall of Clarity. He repeats the piece three times before Wei Ying finally stirs.
Wei Ying throws himself upright and his breath huffs out quickly, "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!"
"I'm here, Wei Ying. I'm here."
Eyes blown wide with fear catch his and Wangji lets go of a trapped breath.
Desperate to evade any questions about what just occurred, Wei Ying immediately pats the man's silk-shrouded arm and laughs awkwardly, "Ahaha, I'm okay Lan Zhan. Just a bad dream. You can go back to bed… Really, Lan Zhan, I'm fine." He adds when the man just narrows his eyes.
"Mn." Wangji hums before standing. "Wake me if you require anything." It is clear no answers will come tonight.
Night ebbs into morn without interruption and he wakes at maoshi as normal. After a few minutes of meditation, the door slides open.
"Ah, Lan-ergongzi. Please come join me, I brought the morning meal."
Lan Wangji quickly affixes the guan in his hair, realising he is in need of a wash, and straightens out his clothing. He can change into fresh robes after breakfast. The doctor has brought plain zhuzhou, clearly familiar with Lan culinary traditions. There's more than enough for the three of them, should Wei Wuxian awake. But knowing his sleeping habits well, that isn't expected until much closer to midday.
"I trust your night was hopefully decent. The infirmary is not nearly as opulent as the guest quarters but having spent a few nights here myself, I would say it is not terrible."
Wangji just nods and the doctor suddenly laughs, "Oh, I forget myself. The Lan observe silence during meals. I apologise for my conduct, Lan-ergongzi."
Once again, a nod. The rest of the meal passes quickly and after he sets his spoon down, "May I ask one more favour?"
"Of course."
"May I have use of your bathing facilities?""Yes, absolutely. My quarters are in the next building. I'll have someone bring water and a bath in at once."
"Thank you, Tie-daifu. Your hospitality has been exceptionally kind." Wangji dips his head in gratitude and the other man flashes a smile back before sweeping out of the room.
For the first time since waking, Wangji looks over at Wei Ying's form. The mass of blanket tangled around him shows signs of more restless sleep. He straightens it out, being careful not to touch skin. The man's hair is a mess, frayed and dry. It will take much care and attention to achieve the soft shine it once had been. Perhaps Wei Ying will let me help…
By the time he has arranged his qiankun pouch, removed the guan from his hair, and donned the grey outer robe disguise, the porter has filled the tub with water.
On a stool beside the steaming tub, there is a fresh cloth and piece of soap. The soap, unsurprisingly, smells of lotus flowers. It's a warm scent, earthy and sweet. Having only used the lightly scented soaps from his own clan, it's an appreciated luxury.
His washing is methodical and efficient. He has already used too much of the doctor's generosity, wasting time in the bath would be inconsiderate. And also, he reminds himself, Wei Ying is in the other room and could wake at any moment.
Once his body is fully dry, he pulls on the dark blue silk robe he purchased yesterday. It stands out stark against the pale of his skin and the white of his outer hanfu; a subtle streak of rebellion. He can imagine Shufu's face, offended at such an indulgent colour and Xichen's tender smile, proud of his brother for choosing to bend (but not break) a clan rule.
His brother had sent him letters, asking him to return to Cloud Recesses but Wangji found that he hadn't wanted to go.
He had visited a few times in the last months, when hunts and searches had brought him close enough, but the quiet sanctuary was too quiet now. Not when Wei Ying had still been missing. The man had been a balancing force of noise and chaos in his quiet life. Even when not directly at his side, his influence was there. In the three months, the stillness of his home had become oppressive.
Wei Ying has awoken by the time the Lan returns. He remains lying down but turns his head as the door slides open.
"Ah Lan Zhan, there you are."
"Wei Ying, how are you feeling?"
"Hungry."
Lan Zhan smothers a smile. If he was hungry, it meant he truly was feeling better. Only if he refused to eat did it become concerning. Wei Ying tried to hide his hurts beneath carefully polished smiles but his stomach spoke differently. "Tie-daifu brought zhuzhou this morning. It should still be warm."
He collects a bowl and fills it with the porridge before sitting on the edge of the bed. Wei Ying presses his elbows into the thin mattress to hoist himself up but his arms prove too weak and he collapses back down. Wangji's strong arms wrap around his bony shoulders and pull him into a sitting position. As the man resumes his place beside Wei Ying, an unusual flash of colour catches the man's eye.
"You're wearing Yunmeng blue…" Wei Ying's thin fingers probe along his collarbone, stroking the edge of dark blue that stands out. Lan Wangji's throat bobs, swallowing a thousand different thoughts at the movement. He remains still as a statue, worried that any movement on his own part would frighten the man away like a rabbit. The fingers ghost along his neck and down, tracing the carefully embroidered cloud patterns. They stop at the top of his sternum where the layers of his robes intersect. Wei Ying's eyes remain fixed at that point for a moment before he drops his hands, clearly embarrassed to have been caught staring. The second the touch disappears Wangji wishes it had never ended.
"I was in town yesterday and purchased this from a silk weaver. You were right, lotus silk is exquisite." He reaches into the qiankun pouch attached to his belt and extracts the bundle of red silk. "This one is for you. You needed a new one since your others have been… soiled."
It's a much too kind way of saying his robes had been absolutely mangled but Wei Ying finds himself chuckling as he reaches out to take Lan Zhan's gift.
"Are you teasing this poor helpless man's clothes?"
"I would never tease Wei Ying."
"That is a downright lie and you know it, Lan Zhan."
"Mn."
There's a pause and Wei Ying looks down at the gift in his hands, the material cold and smooth. It suddenly seems to be more than just some fabric. It's a representation of a friendship, of something more, that goes far beyond this moment, this room, even this lifetime.
"Thank you, Lan Zhan. For the robe, for everything."
"Thank you for coming back to me."
"Ha, I had to. Nobody else was going to annoy you as much as me so I had to fill in that role. Besides, Zewu-jun asked me to keep an eye on you. We all know how much of a troublemaker you really are, Hanguang-jun."
A simple eyebrow raise on the Lan's face causes him to give a small melodic laugh. It's the most beautiful sound in the world to Wangji after three months of disquiet. They settle into silence for a moment before he pushes the bowl of zhuzhou into Wei Ying's hands. "You need to eat. I will play qin for you."
By now, Lotus Pier is sufficiently noisy that his music will be unnoticed. Wangji flips his sleeves back as he settles down before his qin. Without even thinking, he begins the opening notes of Wangxian, trying to forget the hopeless lullaby version Wei Ying had hummed only the night before.
"Lan Zhan," Wuxian whines, voice tight with pain, "anything but that, please anything but that."
Oh how that stings. But his face is impassive, pressing down the hurt before Wei Ying can see it through him. Feigning effortlessness, he transitions into Clarity.
The other man visually relaxes, muscles uncoiling from their sudden tension. He brings a spoonful to his mouth and eats the porridge. The bowl is cleaned easily. And the next, and the next.
Wei Ying's laugh breaks abruptly through the music. "Eating more than three bowls is prohibited," he comments, quoting the Wall of Discipline, "For once I should probably follow that rule. I haven't eaten this good in three months."
Well that certainly alarms Wangji. If he thought plain zhuzhou was good without any chili oil, clearly something in these last months had changed him.
"Wei Ying, were you being held somewhere? By someone?"
"You could say that... Ah, it's okay, I'm okay, Lan Zhan. I'm here now, alive. That's all that matters."
"Not to me, not if you were being held against your will." Wangji moves to stand in front of the bed, expression serious.
"It's fine. It's all in the past."
"No it is not, Wei Ying. You were missing for three months, people presumed you dead. Jiang Yanli spent hours on her knees in the ancestral hall for you. Jiang Wanyin sent search party after search party for you." I played Inquiry for you, hoping - praying - those strings would not move from the touch of your ghostly fingers, he doesn't add.
Wei Ying leaps up to meet him, eyes red-rimmed and fierce. "I wasn't, okay?! I wasn't being held against my will. I was in control the entire time. Does that make you happy, Lan Wangji? To know that?"
This outburst comes with a number of realisations, all of which alarm the Lan:
One, why had Wei Ying disappeared for three months on his own volition? Did he not realise they were in the midst of a war? Did he not realise I needed him?
Two, where had he been that nobody had seen him or heard of him? Surely he could not have made all the way to Dongying and back in that time? And why had he been eating so poorly?
And three, his courtesy name in Wei Ying's mouth sounds more like a curse than anything he had ever heard before. He had never heard the man use his full name before and he doesn't care to ever again.
But when he looks closer at the man, he can see him trembling madly. He is shaking, his eyes shut, head starting to toss as whips of black smoke curl around his cheekbones.
"Wei Ying?!"
The ebony flute they had found in his sleeve quivers from its place on the low table. Eyes snap open, desperation lacing their delicate colour.
"Lan Zhan... help me." The plea is raw, gut-wrenching.
He doesn't know how. He doesn't even know what is happening. But Wei Ying needs help, he needs help. Clarity is a song every Lan must know, Wangji has worn his fingers bloody time and time again learning this song. He has spent hours hunched over his qin, perfecting the swells and retreats. He knows this music by heart and yet now, faced with urgency, he is suddenly uncertain. Is this what Wei Ying needs? Am I capable of helping him the way he requires? What if I am not? There is no other Lan here, no one else with better qin skills, no xiongzhang or shufu. If I cannot provide what he needs, he will what? He will die? Survived three months in nowhere only to die here because I cannot play the song his soul needs to heal?
The notes are precise, laced with every ounce of his golden core he can give. The song is powerful and only plays once before Wei Ying's body slowly untenses; as soon as it does, he is dashing out the infirmary door to heave up his breakfast into the lotus beds. Wangji finds himself beside the kneeling man before he can even realise it.
"Wei Ying? What has happened?"
Another voice, high and feminine interrupts him, "A-Xian? A-Xian, are you alright?" Jiang Yanli dropped down beside the pair, reaching out to touch her brother before thinking better of it. Her hand hangs awkwardly in the air. Wei Ying sits back on his heels, swaying as he goes. His face is pale and drawn as if all the rest he had gotten was sapped away in a single moment.
"Come, come, A-Xian, let's get both of you inside." The woman offers, looking at Wangji with the last remark. Once her brother is situated back on the low bed, she holds a cup of water to his lips in silent instruction to drink. He does so, dutifully obeying his sister. His eyes meet Wangji and the message, do not tell my sister what just happened, is received loud and clear.
"I guess my stomach isn't used to eating this much." He comments and his sister makes a low noise.
"Well, we'll just have to work on that, A-Xian. I'll make a bunch of soups."
There's a trace of Wei Wuxian's old joy in his voice, "Oh shijie, I love your soups."
"Maybe Lan-ergongzi can join us for meals." Her smile is knowing and makes Wangji's ears blush pink. "I plan on speaking further to my brother about your indelicate expulsion from Lotus Pier."
Wangji gives a respectful bow, "Thank you, Jiang-guniang. Your generosity and kindness is greatly appreciated." His eyes flash to the man sitting on the bed, "especially towards Wei Wuxian."
"I am simply repaying the favour. I remember my time in Cloud Recesses being full of the same. And as for A-Xian, he is my brother… no matter what my mother says." There's a flash of hurt in her eyes that reflects in Wei Ying's. Buried memories resurfacing, experiences lived in a lifetime Wangji had not been privy to.
The door behind them flies open, startling the three occupants. A young woman stumbles in, her clothes that of a disciple but she carries no sword. She does not bow nor feign apologies. Urgency is written in every line of her body.
"Lan-ergongzi!" The woman pants, voice struggling to keep up with her racing heart, "Jiang-zongzhu, he's going to- daifu and Luoyang!"
Bichen rattles in his palm, responding to its master's surge of temper. Wangji turns to Wei Ying, silently asking permission to go after his brother.
"Go, Lan Zhan, go!"
1) 煮粥 (Zhǔzhōu): a type of porridge similar to báizhōu/jūk but whenever I've had it, it's been more watery/soupy than those. In CQL, it's what Wei Wuxian makes for the poisoned disciples in 义城 (Yi City).