Content warning for self harm.
"Zewu-jun," Wei Wuxian said, "testing a wicked song on a living person probably goes against the Lan Clan's precepts."
"I will test it on myself," Lan Xichen stated.
-Chapter 14: Soft, Seven Seas translation
Every note hurt.
When Lan Xichen first started testing the music, he'd only fed a trickle of spiritual energy into the melody, only enough to know if it could actually do anything with it. When he confirmed that the music was indeed a cultivational melody, he'd fed it a bit more spiritual energy, enough to properly feel what it could do. Then, he'd fed it enough energy to match what Jin Guangyao would be capable of, and then, he'd just increased it more and more with every note, just so he could feel some fraction of what Nie Mingjue had felt, after Jin Guangyao had been done with him.
It had started off as a dull irritation, almost an itching within his meridians. At Jin Guangyao's level of power, it caused a bit of an ache, but nothing that would be too worrying if Lan Xichen didn't know better. After all, even Cleansing could sometimes ache, if the patient's meridians were irritated already. And, heaven knows, Nie Mingjue's meridians had been in a constant state of irritation for years, enough that Lan Xichen had seen him wince through Cleansing even when he himself played it with the gentlest hand he could manage. If Jin Guangyao's playing had ached, Nie Mingjue wouldn't have thought anything of it.
When Lan Xichen increased the level of spiritual energy, both tormenting his meridians and dragging energy through them, it began to burn. It was, he thought, what he deserved. Jin Guangyao would never have had the chance to poison Nie Mingjue if Lan Xichen hadn't put them both in position for it.
He kept playing, fingers moving blindly over the guqin strings. He didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the melody now, not after he'd played it over and over for… How long had it been? He had no idea. Time had gone fuzzy a few rounds in. His senses had followed.
He blamed that for how he didn't notice that Lan Wangji was there until he felt a hand on his and heard a quiet, "Xiongzhang."
Lan Xichen stopped playing immediately, flattening his hands over the strings to kill any last echoes. He deserved the pain of it, but Lan Wangji didn't, and he couldn't bear to hurt his brother.
His brother, who was watching him with a horrible, aching sympathy.
"Wangji," Lan Xichen croaked, his throat dry and voice rasping. "Wei-gongzi was right. The melody… He was right about everything."
Lan Wangji inclined his head slightly. Despite the fact that he'd been proven right, despite the fact that his faith had been validated, he didn't look particularly happy about it.
"A-Yao, he-" Lan Xichen shook his head. "Jin Guangyao. Jin-zongzhu. He- He really did cause Mingjue-xiong's qi deviation. He- He-"
He killed him, Lan Xichen couldn't find the breath to say.
"Xiongzhang," Lan Wangji murmured, filling the word with sympathy that few people in the world would be able to pick up on.
"He did it," Lan Xichen whispered, looking at how his long fingers splayed over the strings. He'd guided Jin Guangyao's fingers over this very guqin, when he'd taught him Cleansing. He'd never thought he was wrapping Jin Guangyao's fingers around a knife.
Lan Wangji came around to sit next to Lan Xichen, and gently, he lifted his brother's hands and took them off the guqin. With a flick of his sleeves, Lan Wangji spread his own hands over the strings and plucked out the true melody for Cleansing, threaded with his cool, refreshing spiritual energy.
Lan Xichen didn't deserve it, but his meridians still felt burnt and scraped, and Lan Wangji's music was like a soothing balm.
In a shameful, graceless move that would have sent their uncle into a fit, Lan Xichen slouched against Lan Wangji's side and leaned his head on his brother's shoulder. "It hurt, A-Zhan."
Lan Wangji didn't do anything so blatant as freeze at the touch or the long-outgrown diminutive, but he did pause for half a beat longer than he was supposed to between notes. Lan Xichen knew his brother well enough to know his surprise, but he also knew that the slight increase in spiritual energy behind the playing meant that Lan Wangji didn't really mind.
"It hurts," Lan Xichen corrected quietly. "And Jin Guangyao played that for Mingjue-xiong so often. He hurt him, and it was all my fault."
"No."
Lan Xichen let out a quiet huff. "No? I taught Jin Guangyao the melody for Cleansing. I arranged things so he would be the one to play for Mingjue-xiong. I told Mingjue-xiong to trust him. I drew them together as sworn brothers, and gave Jin Guangyao every tool he would need to-"
Once again, his voice failed when he tried to say the world kill.
"No," Lan Wangji repeated, his fingers still plucking out a steady, flawless rhythm.
"Everything I said is objectively true," Lan Xichen countered. "You can't deny it just because I'm your brother, Wangji. It was because of me that Jin Guangyao became the one to play for Mingjue-xiong."
"Xiongzhang was doing what he thought was best," Lan Wangji said firmly. "It is not xiongzhang's fault if Lianfang-zun used his teachings for evil."
Lan Xichen squeezed his eyes shut, pushing down the urge to turn and bury his face into Lan Wangji's shoulder. "I've been so blind, Wangji."
"Lianfang-zun fooled everyone."
"Not Mingjue-xiong. He never trusted him. Not after what happened during the Sunshot Campaign. He only let him into the Unclean Realm again after that at my word. If I'd listened to Mingjue-xiong instead, if I'd trusted him-"
"Xiongzhang."
"He killed him," Lan Xichen whispered. His eyes burned. He'd cried for Nie Mingjue so often after his death, and he'd only ever let two people see and comfort him. One was his brother. The other was Nie Mingjue's murderer.
What had Jin Guangyao felt, when he'd given Lan Xichen a handkerchief to wipe his eyes and held his hand and told him everything would be alright? Had he cared? Had he felt any guilt? He'd faked affection for Nie Mingjue for years. Could Lan Xichen trust any affection directed towards himself?
Lan Xichen had loved Jin Guangyao. But he'd also loved Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao had killed him.
"Xiongzhang should rest," Lan Wangji said quietly. "The hour is late, and rest will help heal your meridians."
Lan Xichen didn't want to rest. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't know what he would see in his dreams, but he knew it would hurt worse than any damage to his meridians.
"You're right, of course," he told Lan Wangji anyway, lifting his head off his brother's shoulder. "I expect you and Wei-gongzi will be leaving soon. Will you be here in the morning?"
"Mn." Lan Wangji hesitated a moment, then added as he stood, "Wei Ying does not wake early."
Any other time, Lan Xichen thought he would have laughed. As it was, he hardly managed a smile. "I'm unsurprised, I must admit. Don't leave without saying goodbye."
"Mn. I will not."
Don't leave at all. Stay here with me. Stay here tonight. Do you remember how you would crawl into my bed when you had nightmares as a child? We always hid it from Shufu, but I would pet your hair and tell you it was alright and you were safe, and then you would sleep in my bed with my arms around you to keep the nightmares away. I will have nightmares tonight, Wangji. Will you return the favor?
But those moments were years and years away, and Lan Wangji had long since outgrown his habit of going to his brother for protection against nightmares. They were too old for it now. Lan Xichen was certainly too old to pick up the habit.
"Goodnight, Wangji."
"Goodnight, xiongzhang."
Lan Xichen watched Lan Wangji leave, heading back towards his own house, then he closed the door quietly and crossed to his bed. He knew he should care for his guqin and put it away, but he feared that, if he knelt before it again, he would start to play. It wouldn't take long to undo all the healing Lan Wangji had managed. Lan Xichen thought he might even be able to permanently damage his meridians in a single night, if he kept playing.
Nie Mingjue would not want him to die, especially not while his own killer still roamed free.
Lan Xichen crawled into his bed, hugging himself the way a young Lan Huan had once hugged an even younger A-Zhan, and he hoped for a dreamless night he knew he did not deserve.