While Lan Wangji heals painfully slowly, Wei Wuxian spends his time buzzing with energy at one moment and being completely deflated at another. He spends the day with the juniors, who miraculously (according to the Lan elders) can keep his temper in check; making him look like any common man with a mischievous streak.
No one stops the Yilling Patriarch, the people breathed in the safe confines of their home. Mainly the Lans who still shunned him. If not for Lan Xichen's words that Wei Wuxian was better allowed to be there than unleash his wrath, blood would be shed.
Afternoons were usually a surprise time- sometimes Wei Ying would pop up in a class from the window; throw a question or give a snarky comment and be his way. No one said anything, no one dared to say anything.
Evenings were reserved for small spar practices where if some disciples were lucky, they would spot the man in the training field, practicing sword forms or experimenting with his talismans.
Sometimes they asked to help, sometimes to spar but all the requests were politely declined, ignored if Wei Wuxian was deeply engrossed in his work or in a particularly bad mood.
After that, it was night and only those on patrol duty were seen outside. At that time if someone passed by the library, they would find that the door was still unlocked, the candles still burning and a litany of curses or incoherent words sprouting from somewhere within.
Sometimes they informed him of curfew, sometimes they put a blanket on him. And on the rarer occasions, two more heads joined him.
*
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Winter is the time when everything sleeps. Sadly, it is also the time when old wounds wake up. Even if we want to sleep, our senses are wide awake which makes us hyper-aware of the tiniest feeling— especially pain.
As the clouds come and go, signalling the upcoming silent and harsh times, the carriers of nature's celebration also bring a warning hidden between the folds of torrential rain and fresh petrichor.
With the first downpour starts the first dull ache,a vague sign of sleepy old wounds turning- preparing to wake up.
The autumn brings a mild respite despite it being the dry wedding of leaves. By the time winter rolls on, the nerves are in full alert mode, every drop of blood being kept hot in contrast to the freezing cold and the wounds stretch awake. Even a small cut makes you feel phantom pain, the joints refusing to cooperate like rusty hinges and chains. The old and wounded curse the season with a passion while youngsters and adults just hiss and swallow their hate; all wishing to do nothing but hibernate.
Cloud Recesses is draped in a blanket of snow, the white robes and furs indifferentiable in the blank background. The only vantage point was near the wooden buildings where the snow couldn't paint despite all its tries.
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" Wei gonzi! " Wei Wuxian turns to find Lan Xichen striding towards him with a scroll in hand. He waits for the First Jade to come near, before bowing.
" Zewu-Jun.What happened ?"
Lan Xichen's expression was grim. He scanned their surrounding before his eyes landed on Wei Wuxian's own.
He had been doing that a lot these days, Wei Wuxian noted.
His experience taught him to.
" Let's go to the Jingshi. This way we can multitask. " With a nod, Wei Ying agreed and both men headed towards the lone path leading to the silent room,
The Jingshi. Once inside the Jingshi, Wei Ying made a beeline for Lan Wangji's bed. Lan Wangji was asleep, his breathing even and face relaxed for once. Dropping beside the bed, Wei Wuxian stroked the black tresses, braided at the side to keep them away from the bandages.
" Zewu-Jun, may I ask you something ?"
" You may, Wei gonzi. "
" Who do you think is the most cruel ? The future or present ? "
Lan Xichen didn't answer. He didn't know how to. He looked at his brother, sleeping soundly and healing at an extremely slow pace and then at Wei Wuxian, stroking his brother's hair like it was second nature with his eyes fixed on the slumbering form.
He thought of that laughing and goofing boy and his rigid brother—both teenagers who had to shoulder duties and responsibilities never meant for them; he thinks of a small pink child wrapped in baby blue blankets,crying for something no one could understand; he thinks of that stubborn child kneeling in the snow for someone who will never come— the door shut for forever and he thinks of himself; raised from the start to be an heir and run the sect, learning politics and the seven arts while wishing to hold a chubby soft baby.
How all of them have transformed, how much all of them have gone through, how much have they experienced.
This has been their life, set in stone already with no choices. What else could have happened? The possibilities are infinite.
" I believe its neither. "
Getting up Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Xichen with his jaw clenched.
" Zewu-Jun, I believe we have somwthings to talk about. "
Lan Xichen can only nod in answer, his expression same.
——————
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months- all the while Lan Wangji heals gradually and visibly. The arrow wounds start closing up and his nights are less fitful, his expression more of calm than pain for as long he sleeps.
Awake, the whip scars torment him and Wei Wuxian can do nothing watch as that pale skin turns paler still, until he fears there won't be any blood left in them.
He watches from the sidelines how that soft pink lips turn blue with the cold on especially cold nights, those knuckles ghost-white; and wishes he could take the pain away even if only for a while.
Wei Ying watches still as all other wounds start closing up, some scarring but healing nonetheless except. Except the whip scars and the main arrow wound on the right arm.
That one would had been a bit too deep, and being treated without the aid of spiritual energy had made it difficult to deal with. Some of the soft muscle fibres have damaged drastically with a hit straight on the bone, scratching the surface and damaging nerves. The head healer was unsure whether Lan Wangji would be able to feel or coordinate his right arm much like he did before. Still they did what they could.
They were trained to heal and tend to cultivators, people who had functioning golden core and in the worst case, a sealed one which they could unseal. But Lan Wangji's core was not responding.
No matter what they tried, the core just wouldn't react.
——————
The first sign of something being wrong appeared when Lan Xichen was going through the trade accounts. He had been in seclusion for an year, and coming out so abruptly without preamble had made it a bit difficult to adjust to his duties. The elders were still against some of his decisions ( they were against many ) and he himself lacked the confidence. Only seeing his brother in the condition he was and Nie Huaisang informing him about everything managed to push him to work.
The Nie Sect Leader had taken to visiting Cloud Recesses often, bringing news and information about his brother Lan Xichen wished he knew before.
The account before him, was a typical account detailing trade of silk yarns, fabrics and a number of pale dyes the Lan Sect was known for and traded in with other sects and merchants.
But there's a difference in the figures. According to the trade account two months back, the prices were higher than they are now. In fact, the difference is small, only a decrease of few hundreds.
To be sure, Lan Xichen takes out another account– this one dating three months back and the difference is smaller. But that's not it. From the previous account, their trade has dropped in Bailing and even some merchants of Caiyi have taken less than their usual amount. Same went for the harvest.
To someone who has been looking at them from months, it won't make a difference as they would just disregard it as some shift in trade. But for Lan Xichen, who had been in seclusion the difference is easily visible.
The drop is in places small enough to be ignored but near points where their most influences are located.
Just like before. A small step, a big stake.
I
t won't affect their trade for now, but if the decrease kept increasing they will be in a problem. Even after eighteen years, Cloud Recesses was nowhere near its original glory; what with Jin Sect having taken the most of their lot upon defeating the Wens.
Someone was planning something big.
After reviewing some other accounts and letters, Lan Xichen called it a day; making a mental note to write to Nie Huaisang about it. If anyone could get the answer behind this, it was no other than the Head Shaker.
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*
Last written : 9 October, 2021
Published: 9 October, 2021
So, here I am aweek after I promised the next chapter. What do you think ? Who is behind all this ? How did Lan Xichen find this ? What more is waiting for Lan Wangji ?