3rd Person POV
What?!?!? Wei Ying was temporarily in a state of shock. His brain was struggling to process this information. Sure, he had sort of wanted to inquire about some things (namely that kiss) and in the back of his mind he wanted - and potentially on some level new - but how could he just calmly drop that bombshell in there.
When he zoned back in he just blinked confusedly at Lan Zhan, who sat nervously in front of him. For once, the man felt the need to talk elaborately, rambling and spewing everything he could think of on the topic. When his feelings started, what happened at the hunt, how he didn't mind if Wei Ying wouldn't return his feelings...
Suddenly, without warning, Lan Zhan felt himself be silenced by Wei Ying's soft lips as the boy crashed over the table to engage in a passionate kiss. Lan Zhan returned it. When they finally needed to come up for breath, Wei Ying pulled away slightly, drawing some attention to his current position on top of Lan Zhan.
"I love you too Lan Zhan", he said.
That night was a long night of passion and novelty, both familiarising themselves with each and every crack and crevice of the other.
(Author's Note: I am not going to write smut, I'm sorry)
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1 Month Later
Since that fateful night, almost an entire month had passed. Honestly for Wei Ying, it could have been a dream - but of course he knew better (the teasing from Wen Qing helped too). The night was extremely memorable and quite out of character for Lan Zhan but was drawn on by a combination of all of the emotions stemming from the context and confession.
Unfortunately for both, Lan Zhan had to return to wider civilisation the next day. As much as he wanted to spend all his time with Wei Ying he had other duties and roles to attend to. He needed to face Lan Qiren's wrath some time or another for standing up for the boy and causing issues. Even though the sects would probably remain gathered in Lanling for a while, he knew he would not be able to slip out to meet and thus the parting was shrouded in uncertainty for both parties.
Life in the Burial Mounds as a whole was improving day by day: crops were beginning to grow in the fields, most of the Wens had their own small abodes within the village and things were looking up. There was only one apparent downside. Wei Ying had been relentlessly unwell for the past few weeks.
He couldn't eat much food and when he did he threw it all up again. Much to his horror, the only foods that didn't incite extreme nausea were bland tasteless dishes reminiscent of those found in Gusu. Some days, it was worse and others it felt as though his ailment had disappeared. In addition, he felt fatigued and tired most of the time. He knew he would be fine, it was nothing serious and the reason he was so affected was probably due to his lack of a golden core to protect him but either way it was a nuisance. Even Wen Qing, the famous doctress couldn't decisively figure out how to cure him.
One morning, the makeshift clan were all huddled round having a discussion. While many had their own private dwellings, it seemed as though most were arbitrary; the close-knit group could always be found grouped up together. This particular morning, the topic of discussion was what crops should be planted. Wei Ying argued for potatoes, Wen Qing for radishes. they had enough money to buy both but neither would see sense and relent to the other.
Unexpectedly, Wei Ying felt a talisman go off in his pocket alerting an intruder however, it was (like Lan Zhan) a visitor that Wei Ying trusted enough to have coded into the barrier. In simpler terms, it could be one of a few people who Wei Ying had trusted with access. Unlike Lan Zhan however, this person showed no respect and charged through slightly damaging multiple barriers. Based purely on these actions, Wei Ying could tell who the person was. It was very obviously Jiang Cheng.
He sensed him before he saw him as his brother hid behind the treeline. The debate was still ongoing.
"Wei Wuxian, it makes more sense to buy radishes - they have a higher profit margin. We can buy potatoes another time.
"Wen Qing, while that may be true, it is definitely better to buy potatoes... don't you agree Jiang Cheng?"
He turned and looked at his brother. He missed his brother and for a second pain and longing crossed their eyes before hardening.
"Why should I care, you thoughtless traitor." He responded, somewhat sarcastically.
The two brother then greeted each other, before excusing themselves from the ongoing debate. Wen Qing looked on, concerned.
(I'm not going to go into to much detail here as it's not super important, only the fact that the meeting will terminate with a promise to stage a fight and announce Wei Ying as defected.)
By the time Jiang Cheng left, Wei Ying had crossed another one way bridge, he noticed he had done a lot of that recently. By the end of the next day, he would be officially cast away by the Jiang Sect. It was for the best.
The next day dawned quickly and the fight between to the two began. In theory, they only had to come to a conclusion that would cause a believable removal from the sect however, the rift that had grown between the two caused it to escalate. After spending so much time indoctrinated by others' words of disdain and hatred for Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng felt it was his one last chance to show his superiority.
The fight lasted for hours, and the sounds of their clashes echoed around like thunder. Finally, as the night drew in, the battle ended and both men parted. Jiang Cheng had broken his arm and Wei Ying had been stabbed through the stomach. It wasn't much but it was enough.
Walking away, the searing pain coursed through Wei Ying, radiating in waves from his stomach. It was horrendous but he couldn't show his brother that it hurt. He couldn't inflict that guilt upon his Didi. This injury, though not the nicest thing in the world, was also not extremely harmful to a normal cultivator. But Wei Ying lacked the most important component for a cultivator when healing: a golden core. He managed to compose himself long enough before turning a corner and collapsing. He was violently shaking and sweating and worst of all he began to throw up blood.
He knew he couldn't stop or he'd never make it back, so he began the excruciating journey home. He could no longer support himself standing but continued, dragging his cumbersome form closer to the settlement. Just as the distant lights of home were in sight, he passed out.