Content Warning: A character is given a substance that impairs them without their consent.
The guest quarters are cold when they return, the chill of the previous night's storm not yet abated. Dinner has been cleared away, replaced by a steaming teapot and a basin of water is on the side table for evening ablutions.
"Lan Zhan." Wei Ying beckons with an outreached hand. All the tension in his frame from before has melted away, leaving an outline of the young man he was before the war.
They are close now, breaths taken from the same air. Wei Ying's thumb gently strokes across the gash on Wangji's cheek and his lips part in a gasp as it heals underneath the ministrations, leaving nothing but pristine pale skin.
Without thinking about anything else but those lips, Wangji surges forward, pressing his own to Wei Ying's.
The other man stumbles back for a moment and the Lan's heart plummets, thinking this is rejection, he's being turned away, this was too much too soon, but then fingers curl into his hair and pull him back in.
There is nothing but them in that moment. No fears, traumas, or deceits. Only lips pressed together, hearts alight with warmth, and years of wishing put to rest.
They part, panting for breath. Wei Ying smiles a bright, beautiful smile, "Aiya, Lan Zhan. I've dreamed of you doing that."
"So let us do it again." And they do.
The exhaustion in Wangji's shoulders snaps like a bowstring, settling over him without any question. He and Wei Ying have been preoccupied for a while now to not notice the lateness of the hour. It must be past nine o'clock.
"Come on, Lan Zhan. Let's go to bed."
"It is still early for Wei Ying-"
"Nah, I'm tired anyways. Come on." Wei Ying's hand hovers over the other man's chest unsurely.
Wangji holds it under his own and manipulates it to gently pull off his robes, leaving him in just that dark blue underrobe before doing the same to Wei Ying. He settles down in the bed first, farther from the edge, silently allowing the other the space to escape if he needs. They have slept in the same bed before but this time feels… different. There's less unspoken unease between them, pulling them closer, tighter. Sleep tugs at his eyelids and he gives in, feeling its quiet peace, only for a knock at the door to cause Wei Ying to shift.
His hand snaps out impulsively and snags the man's sleeve before he can leave, "Where are you going?"
Wei Ying laughs and gently peels his fingers free, "There's someone at the door, Lan Zhan."
"Come back to bed."
"I will, I promise. Just let me go see who it is. It could be your brother, you know. Should I tell him all the improper things we're doing here? Would he make me write all three thousand rules again? Pull me away from your arms like a blushing maiden?"
The knock sounds again, more urgently, and the man's train of thought is cut off. He pulls open the door just a sliver. Wangji can't hear what they're saying, but it's only a brief hushed conversation before they are left alone again. When Wei Ying turns around, something is amiss. His body language, so loose and languid, was now tense and nervous. A piece of paper is tucked away in a qiankun pouch in a flash and he fumbles with the teapot on the table, his back towards the bed.
"Come on, Lan Zhan, sit up. One cup of tea. It'll help you sleep." Wei Ying holds the cup to the man's lips and slowly tips it. Wangji doesn't remember much after that, just a deep humming sleep and the chill of empty space.
When he wakes, he knows instantly that it was not tea. Tea doesn't make your head pound, tea doesn't make your throat feel like paper. Wei Ying had given him alcohol… why?
Sitting upright makes his head swim and squinted eyes roam around the room. It's empty and so is the bed next to him. It must have been something to do with the mysterious visitor to the chambers last night. Wei Ying had changed after that, tucked something in the qiankun pouch, and then deceived him into drinking alcohol. This wasn't a prank, or a mischievous attempt to get the man to let down his guard. No, this was intentional deceit, an attempt to take Wangji out of the picture for a night. Fury burned in his veins fueled by a hearth's worth of grief. Just when he had thought they were getting better, that maybe they could make it out of this, Wei Ying had betrayed him and not even given him so much as a letter explaining why.
And somewhere in his head, a voice reminded him that the other man was struggling but did he not also realise that Wangji was struggling too? While their problems may not be shared, they still hurt the same. Whatever Wei Ying had been through was clearly difficult, painful, and traumatic. But so was everything he had been through in the three months. The start of the war when battles were too close in casualties to call; the burning of Cloud Recesses and the ache of losing his home; the empty space beside him where Wei Ying should have been, pulsing with anguish at anything that even hinted of the man.
Stop… Do not make assumptions about others. Do not treat others with contempt. Do not criticise others. Discipline your words and behaviours. Do not succumb to rage, do not succumb to rage, do not succumb to rage.
He forces air in through his nose sharply and slowly out his lips. Wei Ying must have had a reason, do not rush to make judgments. Collect all the facts. An innocent man may look the same as the guilty at first. He packs his things quickly, grabbing Bichen from its stand on his way out. He had meant to polish and oil it today. There's a flash of melancholy in his heart thinking of how he had neglected the weapon in recent months. Left with the Wens uncared for, and then left again when the swells of grief had clutched him for those three months, stained red with the blood of battle and never washed off.
From the lack of both Chenqing and the man's qiankun pouch, it is clear Wei Ying had gone. He makes his way to the outer edge of the grounds where ancillary buildings are where many of the servants live. There's a small open area in which some are mingling about eating an early midday meal. They cast uncertain glances his way as he enters, clearly unaccustomed to having a member of the gentry in an area that would normally be "below" their station.
He spots a familiar face and approaches her, "Cang-guniang." She abruptly stops eating and turns around. The Lan is a great deal taller than the others and his silvered guan bright in the sun.
"What can I do for you, Lan-ergongzi?" The others sitting with her are taken aback at her apparent familiarity with the imposing Twin Jade.
"May I speak to you privately?"
"Of course." She excuses herself from the table kindly and she shows him to a secluded side corridor.
He wastes no time, he does not have any to waste, "Wei Wuxian is missing. Have you seen him?"
The woman's face crumples into unease, "I spoke to him last night. He said he was going into Yunmeng for a drink… I thought it was odd because we have our own liquor made here, he doesn't need to go to a teahouse for a drink."
"Where did he go? Which direction?"
"He was headed towards the stable block. Which I guess now is also quite odd as it is just a few minutes walk to town. There is no need to take a horse."
"Take me there."
Without acknowledging, she immediately starts walking hurriedly, Wangji following close behind. Within the small yard tucked away, there's a young stableboy who instantly cowers with fear at the sight of the cultivator. He is quite visibly terrified of the man but Luoyang's presence gets him to at least answer their questions.
"Have you seen Wei-gongzi? Did he come by here?"
"Y-yes. He asked me to tack his horse late last night, as I was finishing the evening check."
"Where did he go?"
"He didn't say anything and it is not this one's place to ask. Although…"
"Although what?"
"As I helped him mount, he mumbled something to himself about heading west. Away from the moon."
Wangji inhales sharply. "What colour is his horse?"
"Reddish-brown like cassia bark. Will Lan-ergongzi, I mean, Hanguang-jun, also be needing a horse?" The boy asks shakily.
"No, thank you." He replies and with a nudge sends Bichen out of its sheath. Both Luoyang and the boy startle with the motion and Wangji feels a small surge of remorse for having alarmed them. As he hops onto the quivering blade, he turns to the woman, "Tell Jiang-zongzhu of the situation. He may be of… assistance in this matter."
She nods once and he pushes his qi against the ground, raising up and away from Lotus Pier. There are very few cities this far west that still associate with the main jianghu but he knows of one, Yiling.