hold the bright moon in my arms
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Two
Wei Wuxian opened the first book to a random page, curious, and immediately slammed it shut again, his face hot.
The Lord of Light didn't just share Lan Zhan's title, as he had first expected; instead the character was modeled after Lan Zhan entirely—and he somehow doubted anyone asked his permission!
He was certain they didn't, because the Lord of Dark was modeled after him, including that damn title 'Yiling Patriarch,' though they'd certainly not realized the scars Wei Wuxian had carried at the end of his first life.
He didn't think anyone would have managed to see either of them naked. Some of it had to be the stuff of fantasy, but their likeness was unmistakable.
And he'd opened it to a page where they were… they were…
Yes, definitely some things were the stuff of fantasy, if proportions were any indication, he thought.
Still, the image was burned into his brain, seared into his heart like a brand.
Nie Huaisang had said it was rare, which made sense. He could imagine Lan Qiren hunting down copies and burning them in outrage, which was actually something of a funny image.
Did people actually think they were…? Was this some strange fixation in the world that he'd managed not to encounter?
And, oh gods, did Lan Zhan know? Was that why he'd let Wei Wuxian leave?
Wei Wuxian felt unmoored, the world scrutinizing him again, and that image…
It was as though he'd managed, all this time and through both lives, not to examine his sort-of obsession with Lan Zhan and what it might mean, and now with that door so firmly shut, when his reputation would only hurt the Chief Cultivator, seeing that…
How could so many people know how Wei Wuxian felt before he did?
He felt scrutinized by the world, flayed open and raw for all to see in a way he had not felt since the confrontation at the Guanyin Temple and the realization that Wen Ning had told Jiang Cheng about the golden core transfer.
It felt like a million voices screaming in his ears, like the resentful spirits trapped in the Seal, in Burial Mounds, or like he was surrounded by enemies shouting at him.
Noise registered around him, his name, maybe, but he couldn't focus. A needle pricked his neck, and he recognized it as the prelude to oblivion and welcomed the darkness as it came.
—
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in an infirmary, Nie Huaisang beside him looking distraught.
"Wei-xiong, Wei-xiong, you're awake!"
A healer rushed in, followed by several assistants, and they poked and prodded him and shushed Nie Huaisang while examining him.
Wei Wuxian wasn't quite sure why he ended up here, and when he tried to piece it together he remembered the book…
"I'm sorry, Wei-xiong! I didn't think the books would cause you to have a qi deviation!"
The words startled him out of another potential spiral.
Qi deviation? Well, that explained why he felt like shit. He hadn't felt pain like this since near the end of his first life, when just existing was exhausting.
"I didn't think I was far enough along in cultivating my jindan for that," he said, as it was the second thing to pop into his head.
He barely had a jindan, after all, just a fledgling tiny thing. Wei Wuxian wasn't an expert in jindan, but he hadn't thought one so small would be subject to a qi deviation.
"A mild qi deviation," the healer clarified crisply. "And you flooded your quarters with resentful energy."
"Scared the crap out of the servants," another voice added.
Wei Wuxian turned to find Nie Hengxiang at the door, looking unnaturally tense—wouldn't it figure if this scared the teen away?
"They thought one of your experiments got you," he said. "Glad it wasn't worse."
Nie Huaisang was practically wringing his hands.
"I didn't think you'd react like that, Wei-Xiong," he murmured, and Wei Wuxian could see his distress was no act. "I just thought a little nudge…"
The world felt fuzzy again as he realized Nie Huaisang had done this intentionally. His throat burned and he coughed, spraying flecks of blood against his palm. The healers fluttered around him, but what drew him back to himself was Nie Hengxiang's hand gripping his shoulder.
"Wei-qianbei, breathe."
Oh, maybe the kid wasn't scared of him, after all? The thought brought the world back into focus.
"—told you he was likely delicate after being brought back from the dead," the healer was lecturing Nie Huaisang. "No more undue stress!"
Nie Huaisang took it, looking for all the world like a scolded child.
"Nie-xiong," he started, but his voice was barely a croak.
A healer pressed a cup of tea in his hand, and when he sipped he found it had honey and soothed his throat. He cleared it and tried again.
"Nie-xiong, just how rare is that series?"
If anything, Nie Huaisang looked more dejected.
"It's the only copy," he admitted after shuffling guiltily. "I commissioned it. Before. I thought we'd have a good laugh when the Wens and you were safe and you and Lan Wangji married, but it never happened."
Wei Wuxian's head throbbed. At least this likely meant that what he'd only come to realize for himself wasn't some spectacle for the common people. That it wasn't why Lan Zhan hadn't asked him to stay—he'd almost certainly never seen this copy or it'd be in shreds.
Which is where it would be if it was still in his quarters when he returned.
"Hide it well, or there will be none," he finally said, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. "And just talk next time? No more games. I'm so tired of games."
He winced when his voice broke on the last word, maybe emphasizing a bit too well how wrung out he felt.
Nie Huaisang nodded almost frantically, and only put up minor resistance when the healer who had been scolding him herded him toward the door like some sort of wayward child.
Nie Hengxiang patted his back with almost comical gentleness before following, and Wei Wuxian consigned himself to the prodding of the healers, the bitter medicine, and tried not to think of Wen Qing.
It was nearly two days, most of it spent in a drugged sleep to promote healing, the damage to his meridians being repaired by healers as he slept, before he was cleared to leave the healing ward, though he had several visitors in his waking hours—including Nie Hengxiang, who told him how they had cleared the resentful energy from his quarters using some old talismans he'd designed for removing it from land so the Wen remnants could plant crops, and Nie Yingwei, who brought card games and beat him soundly at each one and made no mention of anything but the silly antics of the children at the crèche.
Nie Huaisang escorted him to his quarters personally, looking somewhat frazzled. While his old friend had visited him, they had not yet discussed what he had wanted to 'nudge' and why.
When they arrived, he found it well-stocked with Emperor's Smile, and he turned a questioning gaze to Nie Huaisang, who fidgeted with his fan for a moment.
"The Chief Cultivator sent it to me, since Qinghe is hosting you."
Wei Wuxian wasn't sure what to make of that, but there were several unopened letters on the desk, and he recognized Lan Zhan's handwriting among them even from a distance.
When they were seated at the low table in his greeting area, with tea and and cakes (no wine, as he was banned for the next week by the healers), he sipped his tea idly and waited for Nie Huaisang to crack.
It didn't even take a ke.
"I really thought you'd stay in Gusu with Hanguang-Jun," he started. "I thought you two had finally cleared things up, and then my spies reported you left."
'Cleared things up' seemed to belong with 'nudge,' and merited further exploration, but Wei Wuxian left it for now.
"And they said I was in danger," he prompted.
Huaisang looked cagey for a moment, then sighed.
"No. I just know how the gentry are, so I sent A-Xiang to shadow you. I hate that I was right."
A knock at the door interrupted them, and a servant entered with a tureen of hearty vegetable soup, along with Healer Nie carrying a bowl of medicine. Wei Wuxian was impressed with their diligence; despite the qi deviation, his meridians felt in better shape than they had been since the core transfer, since before the Burial Mounds and being flooded with resentful energy.
He took the bitter concoction in one long draught, a skill tempered at the hands of Wen Qing, and was happy to follow it with stew, focusing on eating.
As expected, Nie Huaisang continued unprompted once they were alone.
"But you and Wangji-xiong… All those years, I thought you'd wind up together."
Nie Huaisang's tone lilted in question, and Wei Wuxian mulled a response over a bite of stew.
"He sees me as a friend, I hope," he settled on.
His old friend made a choking sound, and he looked up to see an aghast expression on his face, one purely authentic and definitely unmasked.
"Wei-xiong, he wore mourning white the entire time you were dead. He wouldn't look or speak to Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang said slowly, and Wei Wuxian felt a little talked down to. "He raised your son."
"A-Yuan isn't my son," he deflected, setting his spoon down lest it shake in his hand, not quite sure how to handle these revelations.
Sure, he'd joked that Lan robes were like mourning robes, but that was a bit of a stretch. And who knew what had happened between Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng—Jiang-zongzhu or Jiang Wanyin, he reminded himself; what right did he have to call him so intimately? For that matter, what gave him the right to call Hanguang-Jun intimately?
"And Lan Z—Lan Wangji was just doing the right thing."
Nie Huaisang let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his fan raised as though he intended to use it as a weapon.
"He's in love with you, you—you…"
The fan lowered, but Wei Wuxian barely noticed, too startled by Nie Huaisang's words, said with such certainty.
"You really don't know, do you?"
Wei Wuxian focused on his face again, only to see a look of profound pity.
"Wei-xiong, your Lan Wangji has been in love with you since the lectures. Erge worried, the entire time you were gone, that he'd grieve the rest of his life. I eavesdropped on him and Dage enough to hear all about it."
Wei Wuxian could only sit numbly as Nie Huaisang outlined how Lan Zhan wanted to bring him back to the Cloud Recesses, to hide and protect him; how Lan Xichen had worried he could become their father; how he'd found Lan Zhan, drunk and barely conscious and seeking Chenqing, the fresh Wen brand burned into his chest; how Lan Zhan had barely spoken to anyone older than those who were children when the Siege of Burial Mounds occurred, blaming all disciples who took part as culpable in Wei Wuxian's death; how Erge knew the Lan love curse would mean he would never love again, spend his life alone; how Lan Zhan blamed Jiang Cheng for his death and no meeting between the two went well, so often leading to troubled relations between the sects that it had led to what Erge called the Wangji Protocol, enlisting A-Yuan and Lan Jingyi to help handle such situations, which certainly explained the show at Dafan Mountain…
Lan Zhan hadn't wanted to punish him? was really the first reaction he had.
And apparently he said that out loud because Nie Huaisang scoffed.
"Not at all. He knew the gentry would turn on you, that you weren't safe. That you would rub them wrong and become a target. Hell, I knew that and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it, either!"
Something in his voice caught Wei Wuxian's attention, the end almost a wail, and he refocused to find Nie Huaisang fighting tears. Then he recognized the regret, the guilt, and he was reminded again that his old friend had singled him out as they rode to war, calling to him and him only to take care. Like he'd known, even back then.
He knew Lan Zhan carried guilt from his confession when he was drunk during their travels, but he'd had no idea Nie Huaisang felt similarly.
A part of him wondered if Jiang Cheng also felt that way.
"Hey," he said, reaching out to put his hand on Nie Huaisang's shoulders. "Nie-xiong, don't do that. Nothing could have been done. I knew I was on borrowed time when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds, and still I got more than I expected."
He knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, Nie Huaisang crumpling against him and letting out a sob against his shoulder in a display that shows what the naming of Nie Yingwei already made clear. That his friend had missed him dearly, had believed in him, that he was no monster. That he had more people who had grieved him than he expected.
Mianmian's face somehow came to mind, the joy and relief at seeing him pop up from behind the haystack.
More people, indeed. He thought perhaps he should write her, maybe strike up a correspondence.
Nie Huaisang's crying was nothing like the display he'd made in Carp Tower, and felt like years of pent-up grief. Carrying this, it seemed amazing he hadn't broken down in the inn after Lan Zhan caught him, knowing who he was, that it hadn't blown all his plans apart.
All he could really do was pat his back and make awkward comforting noises, so he did.
Eventually his friend subsided and sat back, looking embarrassed.
"I knew something was wrong, but not what. I honestly didn't think it was the Burial Mounds. I didn't think even you could make it out, despite the rumors. When I heard Wen Qionglin's words, everything made so much sense."
Wei Wuxian realized he must have seen the confrontation at Lotus Pier, likely sneaking around. So he knew the truth as well, of the transfer. The truth that only Jin Guangyao had ever guessed. Or, worse, it was a spy who related it to him.
How many people knew?
He felt raw, like a patch of skin healing from a scrape.
"Wei-xiong, your nose."
Nie Huaisang let out a concerned noise, reaching forward with a cloth to dab at his nose, the fabric coming away stained with blood. His hands fluttered a bit as though he was uncertain what to do, then he rushed to the door, opening it to yell for someone to get a healer before rushing back.
Wei Wuxian sagged a little, wrung out. He didn't feel like he was having a qi deviation, which he knew Nie Huaisang thought. Just tired, so tired. A little like he did at Lotus Pier before…
—
Darkness ebbed and he found himself on his bed, a concerned healer leaning over him, examining his eyes as he came to. Behind her, Nie Huaisang was hovering, fan fluttering anxiously. The woman made a considering noise before returning her attention to the herbs she was grinding with a mortar and pestle.
Her explanation had to do with the heart governing the blood—his emotional state had overwhelmed his heart and overheated his blood, hence the nosebleed. Only a slight disharmony in qi, not a deviation.
Not that a disharmony wasn't dangerous, he knew, as any could become worse, as his last one had. Deviations happened when a disharmony was too powerful, just a result of that disharmony. It meant he would need regulation through meditation and medicine until the root cause was healed.
"I'll speak to the kitchen about adding more yin foods to your diet and removing yang. Which means no alcohol or chili sauce, Wei-gongzi."
For a moment Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh at the idea of the Yiling Patriarch needing yin foods, but he also suddenly realized the only way he'll ever eat spice again is if he talked with Lan Zhan. And maybe, given the incident at Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng. He didn't know which was more fraught.
He could get used to bland food… but the doctor was explaining his dietary restrictions to Nie Huaisang and the list was all rabbit food, and a wave of homesickness washed through him, all of it reminding him of the food at the Cloud Recesses, of Lan Zhan.
Who was apparently… in love with him?
Nie Huaisang had gained a reputation as a know-nothing, but Wei Wuxian knew he was anything but. The man had traded in information dancing on the edge of a knife blade for the last decade, so it stood to reason that his information would be accurate.
At the same time, having only just figured out his own feelings, it was hard to come to terms with all he'd learned and actually believe it.
"The Cloud Recesses has texts on healing disharmony," he tuned back in to hear the healer say. "Zongzhu, you should write to Hanguang-Jun."
He glanced at Nie Huaisang, who was cowering a bit.
"If he knows Wei-xiong had a qi deviation because of me, he'll kill me!" he wailed.
Lan Zhan had been protective of him the entire quest to find the rest of Nie Mingjue's body, and particularly in hindsight there were moments that now flustered him—his joke about getting undressed in the street to prove the curse mark was under control, for instance. Now the brief look Lan Zhan had given him, his eyes raking up and down his body, had a whole different context, one that made his face burn.
He really hadn't intended to be that shameless.
Wei Wuxian sighed, knowing there was no getting around it.
"And if he knows I had one and you didn't tell him, what would he do?"
Nie Huaisang paled, fidgeting with his fan, before ultimately deflating.
"Just… distract him?" he pleaded, and then a sly little grin ghosted across his face. "Well, you probably won't be able to help but distract him!"
Something in his tone implied how, and his waggling brows made the meaning clearer.
Face on fire, Wei Wuxian grabbed the nearest thing, which turned out to be a candlestick, and threw it at Nie Huaisang, who dodged easily and danced from the room with a giggle.
The healer muttered half-hearted obscenities and complaints about her childish zongzhu under her breath as she made him rest back again and went back to preparing medicine, leaving him with his thoughts.
Tian na, this meant Lan Zhan would likely come to Qinghe, he realized, which was what Nie Huaisang had been referencing in his teasing. He flung his arm over his face with a groan.
It was a relief when the healer assumed he had a headache and gave him a medicine that made him sleep, giving him respite from having to think about it for now.
Lots of reference to traditional Chinese medicine in here.
Tian na is similar to "oh heavens/oh god."