He soon realises it was a stroke of good fortune that he did not oil Bichen's blade today. Only a few li outside of Yunmeng he had encountered an unavoidable cloudburst of rain that left him thoroughly soaked and struggling to keep his feet balanced on the wet metal. If he had polished it, it would have been nearly impossible to remain in the air.
Through the trees, he spots Wei Wuxian's bay horse and angles to fly down towards them. He leaps off Bichen higher than normal, flipping to land on the road in front of Wei Ying. The man yanks back on the gelding's reins, the animal tossing its head as they stop. He knows he must look dishevelled with robes wrinkled and hair curled but that doesn't explain the look he receives.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying's face is twisted in confusion as he dismounts, approaching the man as if unsure he is real. There's a frenetic and feverish haze to his eyes that makes Wangji question his lucidity even more.
They're just an arm's length away now and it's clear something is amiss with him. "Wei Ying, where are you going? Why did you leave Lotus Pier so quickly?" Why didn't you tell me where you were going? Why did you drug me?
"I just need to go. There's something I need to do."
"I will come with you."
"No, Lan Zhan, you can't. I have to do this alone. Just me."
"Then I will accompany you as far as I can."
"No, you can't. I'm sorry, Lan Zhan but I can't risk getting you hurt… again."
That raises flares in Wangji's mind and resolution sets firm. He will not let Wei Ying go, not alone. As Wei Ying turns to mount his horse again, strong arms grip around his chest and he thrashes in their hold. "Lan Zhan, let me go! I need to go!"
"Wei Ying, calm down."
"No! He's going to-, he's, they, I need-" The man's words are becoming more and more splintered by frantic energy. In a forceful twist, he breaks free of the hold and Lan Wangji lurches forward to regain his grip but Wei Wuxian does not try to run. He instead rummages through his robes, thrusting out a crumpled piece of parchment. "See, Lan Zhan, they're going to hurt them. I can't let them die!"
Demon Wei Wuxian,
I know what happened on that mountain. I know who did it. I know where they are.
Would you like to say goodbye first? You had best hurry.
"Who, Wei Ying, who is going to get hurt?"
"Wen Qing and Wen Ning!"
Realisation slams down his throat like scalding tea. The scar on his chest. He had thought it part of the other torture. But it was too careful, too cared for. Wen Qing is a physician, an expert in cultivation.
"Where did it go, Wei Ying? Who has your core?"
"There wasn't a choice. There wasn't any other way!"
"Who, Wei Ying?" His voice roars through the trees because he already knows the answer, he already knows, he knows, he knows, he knows.
"Jiang Cheng."
Ozone's bitter smell floods the dry air before the world goes purple, blinding and sharp, for a blink.
"What did you do, Wei Wuxian?"
Wei Ying turns around slowly, delaying the inevitable as much as he can. Across the clearing, Jiang Wanyin stands, Zidian licking at his knuckles. His expression is thick with anger and something else. Wangji sees Wei Ying's shoulders curl minutely under the weight of the glare.
"I'm your older brother, I'm supposed to protect you. What else could I have done?"
"Anything! You could have done anything else! I didn't want- I don't want-," Jiang Wanyin glances down at his own chest and then back up at his brother, "how could you?"
"You wanted to die, Jiang Cheng! How was I supposed to do anything else!"
"Why, why don't I have a scar? Why don't I remember?"
"Wen Qing healed your wound with qi, so you wouldn't know."
Jiang Wanyin's eyes narrow, suspecting. "So why do you?"
"I… I wanted it to remind me. That I chose this condemned existence for a reason... that reason is you."
His brother lurches forward and Wangji startles out of his shock to protect Wei Ying but can't make it in time, he's always too late. But there is no cry of pain, no squeal of a sword. Jiang Wanyin's arms clamp around Wei Wuxian's chest in a hug. It's despondent and fierce and full of so many emotions as to thicken the air with fog. The other man gives a yelp of surprise, eyes going wide for a moment, before returning the hug.
They're both crying and Wangji suddenly feels like an unwelcome onlooker. They stay entangled for a number of minutes before Jiang Cheng pulls away, determination setting on his face.
"Where is the bastard?"
As they ride down the forest road, feeling the horse's hooves rhythmically strike the dirt beneath, Lan Wangji finds himself questioning his initial judgments of Jiang Wanyin. Maybe devotion had been mistaken for anger, protection mistaken for displeasure. Warm hands startle him out of his mind as Wei Ying places his over top of Wangji's. The man must have felt him jolt and laughs lightly from his place in front. Despite everything, despite where they are and what they are about to do, he can still find it in himself to laugh.
They share the gelding's narrow saddle, pressed close together. When Wuxian had offered his hand to Wangji, inviting him up, Jiang Cheng had made a grunt of discomfort from his own horse. "If you two are courting, you really should be riding with me, Wei Wuxian."
"As if I'd rather ride with you than walk. Lan Zhan can share with me, since he flew here on his sword." He brushes right over the start of his brother's sentence and the embarrassment bubbling in Wangji's throat retreats.
They ride for only the few remaining hours to Yiling, the air silent save for the creak of leather from the horses' tack. The town is quieter and emptier than usual as if sensing their great arrival.
Wuxian had only been to Yiling once before that day but even then, full of people, it had struck him as a place of loneliness. Unprotected by a sect other than the small new Qishan Wen outpost, dusty and devoid of fertile soil, the Burial Mounds creeping ever closer, it is not a place many choose to occupy. Even the new supervisory office was nearly abandoned, Wen Chao and Wen Xu staying far away from the desolate town.
On the outskirts, in the dense forest, the stone wall and gate of the Wen settlement greets them. Wei Ying shudders as the emptiness in his gut stirs again. It looks exactly as it had in those frantic days, the same musty smell of damp dirt and bamboo.
His fist pounds against the wood doors of the compound, rattling them in their frame. "Is anyone there? Please, answer!"
The latch releases and an old woman peers through the small opening in the doors.
Wei Ying's voice is hurried with fear, "Please, furen, are Wen-guniang and Wen-gongzi in? It's an emergency, we need to see them."
"My apologies, gongzi, but the young mistress and master left just this morning."
"What?! Who- who did they leave with? Why?"
"They left alone and in a hurry. I am not sure where they went, they sent all of the guards off one way and went the other. It is just me and the kitchen girl left."
"Oh no, no, no, no!" He chants under his breath and the woman's face furrows in alarm.
Wangji steps forward and bows, "Thank you for your help, furen."
"Are the young mistress and master in danger?"
"One can only hope not."
A firm grasp on Wei Ying's arm turns him away, breathing unsteady. Eyes the colour of wheat meets the grey of ash, forcing them to quiet. "Wei Ying, they may have been warned ahead of time. Wen-guniang is clever, she wouldn't be tricked so easily. We should look in the direction they went."
"Yes," he huffs out, "yes, you're right. Let's go."
When they find him, he is alone. His hair is still tied up with the same rosewood hairpiece as before and Wangji remarks bitterly to himself about his sharp instincts. I was right that it was too nice a guan for an unaffiliated messenger to have. Someone must have given him it as a token of their appreciation for his espionage. It is a hollow victory. The tall grasses on either side of the dirt path move in sweeping waves, a murmur, a whisper, across the land. The Wens are nowhere to be found and he breathes a sigh of relief, they have evaded capture.
Wei Ying whips out his flute and a harsh refrain, so far from the light melodies he should be playing, echoes in the field. Resentful energy flickers into the air around them, tame and controlled by their master. A single sharp note sends them flying towards the messenger who barks out a single biting phrase,
"I see the Burial Mounds were nice to you. Too bad, we thought it would destroy you."
Wei Ying rears backwards in an instant, off-balancing him, and sending him tumbling to the ground. The resentful energy disperses in a heartbeat, the atmosphere brightening around them. Wangji inhales a sharp gasp through his nose and beside him, Jiang Wanyin lunges forward, Sandu and Zidian burning in his hands.
"What did you say?! WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"
The messenger laughs, he just laughs.
Wangji has to tear his eyes away from the soulless man, turning instead to Wei Ying. He is scrambling backwards, grass splintering painfully beneath his hands.
"No, no, no, no… stay away, stay away from me!" The man screams, eyes wide with a fear so dense it is clear his mind is elsewhere. Wangji stills, hands extended in front of him. Wei Ying's breath pants, air not reaching his lungs as it should. His eyes dart around panicked, looking for something, someone. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, please, come save me. I can't do this, I need help, I won't survive. Please, please come find me. Where are you?"
Lan Wangji's heart is ice. Or at least, that is what others say. His heart is ice, cold and unfeeling. But in this moment, hearing his zhiji beg for him, that solid ice shatters. He had failed Wei Ying. Wei Ying had needed him, more than ever before, and Wangji had failed him.
He crouches down in front of the man to put himself at the same level. "I'm here, Wei Ying. I've found you, I've come to rescue you."
"I don't believe you… no, too many lies, too many traps. It's not real, it's not real. It's just a ghost, just resentful energy. He's not really here, Lan Zhan isn't here, he's back in Gusu playing guqin and reading boring books and shunning alcohol. He's not here in the Burial Mounds, he's not being tortured with me." The voice that comes from Wei Ying is full of anguish and somehow underneath it all, desperate hope. He wants to believe the man is there, he wants to believe he has been saved, that he is free but his mind has trapped him, told him it's too good to be true, that he is unworthy of salvation.
"How can I prove it to you?"
Wei Ying doesn't respond but a shaking hand reaches out towards him and instinctually Wangji knows this is his answer. He grips the hand firmly with both of his own, trying to radiate stability and warmth in the hold. A shuddering gasp is pulled from Wei Ying's chapped lips and using their still-clasped hands, Wangji pulls the man up to lean against him. His eyes are still distant, not quite in the moment, but it's a start.
Behind them. Jiang Wanyin has the messenger pressed to the dirt, sword against his throat, in a heartbeat.
"What did you do to my brother?! Why did you set him up?! Who told you to do this?! What clan do you work for?!"
But the man just continues to laugh that sickening, inhuman laugh. Wanyin's hand clenches once and the blade is through the messenger's throat, the laughter turning garbled before stopping.
"Don't tell me I shouldn't have killed him, Hanguang-jun." Wangji doesn't miss the threat in the man's voice, the use of his title is anything but respectful.
"He deserved to die." is all he offers in return.
In his robe pockets, they find various missives, unidentified but written in the same neat brushstrokes. All contain similar threats of violence against various jianghu members, strategies and military secrets. One particular threat, the handwriting much more frantic and sloppy than the others, simply reads "Destroy Wei Wuxian." Whoever this messenger had worked for, they were a far greater threat than just threatening Wei Ying.
They stumble back to the teahouse in Yiling together and settle heavily down at a table. Wangji tries to cajole Wei Ying into eating something but the man only manages two bites of rice and a cupful of tea.
Through the door steps two figures and immediately Wei Ying leaps to his feet. Jiang Wanyin makes a low noise of concern before turning to follow him.
Wei Ying's thin arms clamp around Wen Qing's shoulders with a force that Wangji did not know he possessed.
"You're both okay, you're okay, I thought-, I-"
Wen Qing's voice is sharp but full of affinity, "Wei Wuxian, calm down. Don't make me use the needles on you. Where the hell have you been for three months?"
Before Wei Ying can respond, sensing his discomfort, Wangji interrupts, "Wen-guniang, why don't we sit down?"
And the story is told once more.
"They threw you into the Burial Mounds?! Come on, let's go." The woman yanks him upright and marches him towards the door of the teahouse.
Wei Ying sends a concerned glance towards Wangji, "Where are we going?"
"Back to the manor. I need to check your healing. Unless you want to remove your robes here in the teahouse."
"No!"
"Wen-guniang, this borders on impropriety." Jiang Wanyin chimes in as his brother sits on a chair, upper robe undone to show his pale chest. Most of the bruises have faded to a sickly yellow but the slashes still show scabs and new bright pink scars.
"Jiang-zongzhu, I am a physician. I did not become one by being concerned with what is considered appropriate. And you also seem to forget I performed surgery on you too." She replies nonchalantly, not bothering to even look up. The man blushes crimson and turns away with a growl. The woman's hands press hard on Wei Wuxian's sternum and he doubles over with a groan of pain.
"Oh be quiet, I didn't push that hard."
"Wen Qinnnnng, it hurts. Make it stopppppp!"
"Must you always act like a child?"
Wei Ying gives her his best pout, most certainly answering that question for them. Wangji interrupts, "Wen-guniang, how is his healing?"
"Better than I expected, but still not great. His meridians are a mess, worse than I left them obviously. The ends that used to connect to his golden core are necrotizing. They weren't supposed to do that… something is wrong."
The man twirls Chenqing nervously in his fingers, "I've… I've started using resentful energy… in replace of my golden core."
"You've what?"
He is immediately defensive, "I had no choice, Wen Qing. It was that or die!"
"Wei Wuxian, I'm not chastising you, I couldn't care less. I just want what's best for you and this is harming your chance for a new core."
The flute clatters to the floor. "There's, there's a chance, I could get a new core?" His voice aches with hope.
"It won't be easy. Much harder than your first time. But if you can control the resentful energy, learn more about it and how it affects you safely, I don't see why you couldn't form a different kind of golden core."
Wei Ying promptly starts hyperventilating, wheezing breathes through his barely opened lips. All three clamour with shouts for him to stop.
"Wei Wuxian, breathe. Or I will use the needles on you and Lan-ergongzi will have to carry you home. Although… I'm not sure that really is a deterrent at this point." She shoots the Lan a look of not-quite exasperation. It's too fond to be that, but clearly meant to look warning.
"He will be returning to Cloud Recesses with Zewu-jun and I. We have many texts on golden core formation and healing that can help."
"Oh, he will, will he?"
"Jiang Cheng." Wuxian warns softly and that is enough of a confirmation for the man.
"When were you going to tell me this, Wei Wuxian? That you were leaving Lotus Pier. Did you even think to ask me?"
"You're not my keeper, Jiang Cheng."
"I remember you promising to be my second, to help me run the clan. Have you forgotten that?"
"No! Of course not! But I have to do this. If I want to heal, if I want to survive, I have to do this. I promise I'll come back and visit. I won't be gone forever. I'm sure the Lans will get sick of me eventually and kick me out. You've seen how many rules they have."
The man's scowl doesn't lessen but his silence seems to be its own acceptance.
"You can put your robe back on, Wei Wuxian. Your wounds will heal perfectly fine in time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must figure out where my brother and I will go. It seems even the isolation of Yiling is too close to the war." She dips in three succinct bows to each of the men and turns to leave.
Something flares in Wangji's chest and he lets his instincts carry it. "Wen-guniang, may I speak to you privately?"
"Of course, Lan-ergongzi. Come along with me." They walk from the main hall to the narrow study in quiet, Wen Qing pulling a series of earthenware jars from shelves. She expertly mixes two tinctures and fills a small pot with each of them.
"This one is for Wei Wuxian. Have him spread it on his remaining scabs. It will soften them so they heal without raised scars. And this one is for you. I noticed your shoulders strain when you bowed. Rub it into your sore muscles when they ache. It has willow bark paste and gancao to ease tension."
"Thank you, Wen Qing. I will be sure to follow your instructions."
The woman turns, dark eyes focusing on him."What did you wish to discuss with me?"
"I know your feelings towards the Qishan Wen's actions and your wish to be unaffiliated with them. If you should need it, Cloud Recesses will always offer sanctuary." He holds out his hand and within it, the jade token he was given so many years ago. The token that will let them within the wards of the haven without a single question. The power it holds is immense and he had not given over lightly, rule four hundred seventy one: do not accept disciples without careful screenings.
Her eyes go wide and her thin fingers hover over it. "This-... thank you, Lan-ergongzi. Your benevolence is inexhaustible." She bows deeply.
"Wen-guniang, I do not know much about those events before Wei Ying's disappearance but I know that you sheltered and healed them. If you had not done that, they both would have surely died. You have done so much for us. It is beyond time we do something for you."
"I never figured we'd be returning to Cloud Recesses but it seems to be the safest place for us now. However, I won't be going just to sit around and meditate. If we are to be living there, I want us to contribute."
"The Lan clan would be honoured to have such an esteemed physician assisting. And Wen Qionglin's talent in archery would be greatly appreciated by the weaponsmaster."
"Well, Lan-ergongzi, it seems that we will meet you there."
"I look forward to it."
They bid farewell to Wen Qing and Wen Ning after dinner and ride through the cool evening air.
The forests and fields are eerily still as though the whole world has gone stagnant. But it hasn't. There's a war going on, his brother has returned to the frontlines, and the anxiety burning in his chest flashes fierce.
Wei Ying falls asleep a few hours after the sun sets, head resting back on Wangji's shoulder. After one annoyed groan, Jiang Wanyin pointedly avoids looking over at the pair of them.
Wangji is struggling to stay awake himself, the time long after he would usually retire. But the desire to continue feeling that warm breath against his neck keeps his eyes open and alert.
At some point early in the dawn, they stop to let the horses rest and he finally gives in to his exhaustion. The smell of pine saturates the air and he's reminded of nights in the jingshi, of the Cold Pond, of the secluded gardens. And for the first time in many months, he longs for home.
Lotus Pier appears before them well into the afternoon and immediately Wangji pulls Wei Ying into the guest quarters. He sits him down, combs out his hair, and rubs the ointment from Wen Qing on his wounds. They don't discuss the previous day's events, they will someday, but right now there is a cliff Wei Ying is standing on and one must get him down before knocking his feet out from under him.
Holding each other, they surrender to a contented catnap in the late sun.