The wound on his cheek shows no signs of healing yet, the skin still red and raw around it. But Wangji has seen infection before and he knows that this is not infection. Infection was the inflamed red halo that radiated out from the irritated skin on Wei Ying's chest in the Xuanwu cave. Whatever this was, it whispered of magic, curses, and darkness.
The sound of a gong outside signifies that the other clan leaders have been spotted. It's a call to attention and one he cannot ignore. Wei Ying is still asleep on the divan after their conversation the previous day and Wangji has no desire to wake him from what might be one of the few peaceful slumbers he has had, so he straightens his own robes and goes to meet the delegation alone.
Out of the grey clouds of the midday sky emerges a small cluster of figures. The dark grey figures surely come from Nie, next to them gold robes of Jin shimmer in the watery light. And behind them, separated from the group by distance and grief, is the lightest of blue. Xiongzhang. There's a small part of him that is deeply grateful he came rather than shufu. Even though his brother is the clan leader in title, shufu still enjoys sticking his nose into clan matters uninvited. He did not want to have to deal with the man's dislike of Wei Ying, it would surely push him over the edge.
Details start to sharpen as the figures grow closer until their feet clatter onto the gravel of the courtyard. Swords are sheathed and pleasantries exchanged.
Nie Mingjue is direct to the point as ever, "I'm afraid I'm a little confused, Jiang-zongzhu. What exactly has happened? The messenger was very vague."
"We can discuss the events inside." Away from prying eyes and curious ears. "I've arranged for a meal to be served as you have travelled all morning."
They are ushered inside as the clouds begin to darken with the prospect of rain. Wangji has not been assigned a table and so he hovers by the door like a shadow facing the lotus throne. Xichen flashes him a peculiar glance at his brother's rather frigid expression, even colder than usual.
Servants bearing place settings bustle in and after an hour of the quiet clatter from porcelain and light conversation, Jiang Wanyin stands up. Instantly the room goes silent.
"I'll get straight to the point, Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao are dead."
The clan leaders burst into a clamour, "What? How? By your clan?"
"Yes. By our head disciple, Wei Wuxian."
Xichen interjects calmly, "Jiang-zongzhu, hadn't Wei Wuxian gone missing nearly three months ago?"
Jin Guangshan's voice is brash over the top of the Lan leader and Wangji's hand clenches around Bichen,"What does it matter? Two more Wens are dead! Where is Wei Wuxian? I want to congratulate him myself."
"He's unavailable at this moment."
Wangji intentionally avoids his brother's questioning look, one that knows too much.
"How were they killed? Surely Wei Wuxian could not have taken them both on at once!"
"They were killed by his sword." The man is an excellent liar it seems, their agreed-upon cover story rolls from his lips effortlessly. "Wen Chao was previously injured and thus weakened. The attack on Wen Zhuliu was an ambush. He never saw it coming until the blade was already through his chest."
"Jiang-zongzhu, I was unaware of the Jiang clan's prowess with swordsmanship. It seems that Wei Wuxian is more skilled than we had first believed."
Wangji can't miss how Jiang Wanyin's hand tightens around Zidian, forcing the ring to remain docile. His breath must smell awful with the quantities of vinegar he drinks.
"Yes, well, we must decide what our next steps will be with regards to the campaign. But such matters can wait until tomorrow as I am sure you are all tired from travelling. I graciously thank you for your willingness to come so quickly." Jiang Wanyin bows and the other leaders follow suit before they are ushered away to their guest chambers but Xichen beckons Wangji to join him as they walk down to the pier. It's a silent path, both having much to say but neither able to express it properly.
His brother sighs as they stand on the dock, the wood creaking softly beneath their feet. In the distance, lightning flashes over the top of the mountains and thunder rumbles a sombre warning. "I cannot accept that the Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu's deaths are a symbol of victory like the other clan leaders. This feels too much like an omen, it tastes bitter."
"Mn."
"How is Wei Wuxian? I imagine he is well enough for you to leave him and attend the meeting today."
"He-" the younger man starts but catches himself before he can reveal too much, "...he is fine."
"Wangji, there is no need for half-truths between us."
"He is physically well. But I worry about his mental state. Three months… is a long time."
"Understandable. When you see him please let him know, that should he need it, I would be more than willing to play xiao for him. As I'm sure you have been with guqin."
Wangji can't find the words to respond, overwhelmed with the steady presence of his brother's compassion, and he just nods. Xichen finally turns to look at the younger man and immediately a fire of concern burns on his face.
"Xiongdi… where did that wound come from?" A gentle hand reaches out to touch his cheek but he takes an automatic step back.
"I'm afraid I was careless in sparring with Jiang-zongzhu. He managed to nick me." Wangji is not in the habit of lying to his brother, their bond too close for that, but this lie slides from his lips without a bitter taste. Rule thirty-two.
"Have you seen a physician? It looks rather serious."
"Yes. They gave me a salve to treat it but it hasn't had time to fully heal yet."
"I'm glad. I worry about you, xiongdi. After all, who else would care for all the bunnies in Cloud Recesses if not you?"
In the midst of Wei Ying's disappearance, the start of the war, and the massacre at Lotus Pier, Wangji had shamefully forgotten to ask after the safety of the Lan rabbits.
"They survived?" He can't hide the shock in his voice.
His brother laughs, a lyrical thing, "Yes, they all survived. I don't know how, but it seems many of them seem to have forehead ribbons now. Either one of the disciples has become quite keen on sewing or there's something a little more enchanted going on."
"Xiongzhang-" Xichen turns to look at his younger brother once more, eyes glinting with something akin to sorrow and it makes Wangji want to tear it out with his own hands. His older brother's eyes should be filled with mischief and kindness and warmth. But instead they are teeming with grief and exhaustion. The words he had wanted to say remain on his tongue and he pushes others past, "Jiang-guniang wishes to learn xiao, if you are willing."
And there, just for a moment, the briefest instance, Wangji can see the light spark in his brother's eyes.
"I would be happy to."
That evening, the storm finally breaks. It howls against the windows and frames of Lotus Pier. And neither of the pair can sleep. They're still laying next to each other in the same bed, not touching, they haven't broken that rule yet but even proximity can't soothe their souls tonight. The latches on the windows have been sealed but their leather covers still let water in. The air is damp and thick, choking them in the dark.
A crack of thunder so loud, Wangji can hear Bichen rattle in its stand, and Wei Ying yelps. The next thing he knows, his arm is yanked into the man's grasp as he pulls it into his chest and curls his knees around it.
It's not… unpleasant. As if 'not unpleasant' can really sum up the feelings of how long he's hungered for this into one small package. Wei Ying is chilled despite the extra layer of robes he has on and before he can realise it, Wangji reaches over with his free arm to stroke the man's hair.
They both freeze and he retracts his hand quickly, "Wei Ying, I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"
"No, wait, it's okay." The confession comes quickly, rushing out in the dark room as though the absence of light has made him braver, "Oh who am I kidding, Lan Zhan! It's more than okay. I've wanted this since the first day I met you."
"You have?"
"Yes! I asked you, remember?" He releases his hold on Lan Zhan's arm and mimes a pair of shears against the silk sleeve. Realisation and memory bloom in the Lan's head.
"... Oh. I was unaware of what you meant."
"They really don't teach you the right stuff at Cloud Recesses, huh."
Wangji resumes his ministrations with his right hand and Wei Ying shoves himself under the left, tucking his head on the man's chest. A thin arm curls over the top of his ribcage to pull him close and all hope of restraint is gone from the Lan's mind. It is such a unique feeling, to feel so comforted and content. He is sure he will never sleep alone again.
Outside, the storm screams and shakes. But inside, two hearts slowly patch themselves back together with borrowed pieces of the other's.
He is cold, but he is a Lan, he should not get cold. He has swam in the Cold Pond in the dead of winter and climbed the back hill through snow as high as his knees. But the bed beside him is cold and empty, and it should not be. Through the awakening fog in his brain, he can remember someone else - Wei Ying - next to him but he's no longer there.
"Wei Ying?" He calls. There is no one else in the room. Over the steady drizzle of rain, he hears a few notes of a flute outside. Raising his voice, he calls again, "Wei Ying, come inside. It is cold, you will become ill."
He is steadily ignored. Suppressing a sigh, he pads barefoot out to the covered porch. The flute music grows more frantic, the notes of Clarity becoming recognisable in the din. Something is wrong.
In the flashes of lightning, he can see a spectre of white across the courtyard. The figure's clothes are too long, dragging in the mud as their arms hover near their face. And in front of them, a black mass writhes in the air.
"Wei Ying?!"
The swirling darkness jerks sharply as the melody falters for just a moment.
A moment is enough.
The energy surges towards him and he reaches for Bichen but Bichen is still tucked in its stand inside. It strikes him across the chest knocking his body backwards a step.
Lan Wangji screams.
A contingent of guards comes sprinting, their swords drawn. Through the rain they can see the great Hanguang-jun on his knees, sleeping robes wet and taut against his skin, and the man is writhing. On the other side of the courtyard, someone spots a flash of white, the shriek of flute music. Someone is attacking Lotus Pier and attacking the Second Jade of Lan.
The shout goes out, and within moments there are four clan leaders pulled from sleep and on alert.
The flute music stutters once more at the sight of them and the ghost vanishes from view. A few guards attempt to go after it, chasing the attacker towards the gates.
Wangji can hear his brother near him, but his vision is a white streak of pain. A rough hand grabs his other side and he can smell the pine smoke on clan leader Nie's clothes.
"Wangji, Wangji!" Xichen's voice is panicked, a shrill undertone wholly unnatural for him.
He thinks he tries to say something, but instead the world feels askew, his body convulsing violently, and the quiet of the abyss is much too tempting.
1) 'Drinking vinegar' is a common phrase used to describe someone who is jealous. The person drinks vinegar (the character used is actually 吃 as in to eat but in English, it's common to swap out 'eat' with 'drink') because they are jealous of another person. The origin is from a story about a woman, her husband, an emperor, some concubines, and a cup of a 'poisonous' wine (it was really vinegar).