After XuanWu's Cave
Lan WangJi thanked the Jiangs for rescuing him from XuanWu’s cave and left for Cloud Recesses. Heavy in heart and heavy in mind, he gathered up the few sect brothers and sisters he could find in and around his home while avoiding Wen hunting parties. His brother was missing. His father was dead. His uncle was severely wounded and ill. Walking on a broken leg was inadvisable. Walking on a broken leg that was also punctured by that imitation XuanWu’s teeth and after starving for several days was even more inadvisable.
Weeks later, Lan WangJi knelt, ignoring the pains in his leg, to close yet another girl’s eyes. And a girl she was: a junior disciple, perhaps thirteen or fourteen. How she was separated from the rest of her family he didn’t know. She, or her missing companions, had apparently taken down a few of the Wen; he left their eyes open to the skies. He’d burn their bodies later.
But this girl should have some rites for her death. It would help if he knew something about her. He sat and played the opening notes to Inquiry. {Who are you?}
The notes that answered back were jumbled and made no sense. {I am} was clear enough. The name was not. {I know your friend Wei WuXian} came through loud and clear.
{How did you die? Who are your family?} His guqin played notes back, but they once again made no sense. He understood ‘drunk’, ‘driver’ and ‘crash’. What any of those words had to do with this junior cultivator, he had no idea.
{I’m not the spirit you called. She moved on to reincarnation as soon as she arrived here. } And that made more sense. But his Inquiry was good enough that he should have called the junior cultivator’s spirit not just any wandering soul. {People tend to think of time as water flowing in a deep and wide river,} the spirit continued in a non-sequitur. {Flowing from past to future. But what happens if you throw a pebble into the river? The water will flow upstream for a while before resuming its course. If you throw a large enough rock, the water will jump in all directions quite a distance.
{Over the next five or six years of your time, Wei WuXian may make a series of rather selfless mistakes that ultimately will lead to his death. For us, this has already happened. Wei WuXian wll commit suicide and set off an explosion that sends his soul forward over a thousand years through time to meet me. That same explosion allowed his soul to travel back in time to today.}
Lan WangJi’s finger stilled over the strings. Wei WuXian will commit suicide? Why? What mistakes? He forced his fingers to ask that question. {What will happen? Why will he choose to die?}
{I won’t tell you that. I will tell you that without more people standing by his side, he will make similar mistakes this time around. If you don’t want him to die young again, I suggest you pay more attention.}
{Pay attention to what?} But the strings didn’t answer.
Lan WangJi buried the disciple, deciding to not think about Wei WuXian as he dug out the grave. That boy was a menace to everyone around him. Irreverent and undisciplined. And so smart. And a mouth that never seemed to shut up. Even half drowned and feverish, Wei Ying insisted upon talking nonsense.
Even half drowned and feverish, Wei Ying insisted upon using his herbs to try to heal Lan Zhan’s leg instead of healing his own burn and bruises. He really was a selfless idiot at times.
Lan WangJi knew of several ways to shut Wei Ying up. There was the traditional wad of cloth and a tie. Wei Ying’s hair ribbon would do nicely for that. The Lan silencing spell also worked quite well, even though there was a limit as to how long it lasted…. Reapplying the spell was easy, though.
Then there were… other ways to shut the loudmouth up. He’d dreamed of them so many times.
The first few dreams had been overwhelmingly embarrassing. Wei Ying being his normal outrageous self and Lan Zhan grabbing him, kissing him until he woke up sweaty and in a state that refused to go away without… doing that. But then Lan WangJi had come across guest disciples sharing porn, and had sent them to his uncle for discipline. And then read the books before burning them.
He had copied the Rules five times for that. While in a handstand and using his left hand.
The spring books had been quite instructive even though they were about men with women. His dreams shifted to shutting up Wei Ying by having him use his mouth for other purposes. And returning the gesture. Awake, Lan Zhan tried to find out what exactly it would feel like to be kneeling before Wei Ying, sucking him to completion. He was able to suck his fingers, but that didn’t have the right shape. Carrots had the right shape, sort of, but the wrong taste. He’d tasted his release, too; that was something he vowed to never do again.
The spring books showed men using the women’s backsides. So he supposed that was how cut sleeves pleasured each other. He resigned himself to being a cut sleeve when his dreams began showing him detailed visions of being inside Wei Ying’s body.
He spent an inordinate amount of time washing his sleeping clothes after those dreams started. There were some activities the washerwomen did not need to know about.
Lan WangJi let out a long sigh as he shoveled the last of the dirt over the disciple’s grave. Despite his firm intentions, he was again (still?) thinking about Wei Ying.
That smile. The way he danced while sparring. The weight of his arm across Lan Zhan’s shoulder. His body, wet and shivering, in the Cold Springs.
Lan WangJi wrenched his thoughts away. That was an inappropriate thought to have over a young woman’s grave.
As if any of his thoughts about Wei WuXian would be appropriate ones to think about over anyone’s grave.
When he met up with some of his fellow disciples in the outskirts of Cloud Recesses a few days later, it was to hear that the Wen had attacked and burned Lotus Pier. “Jiang FengMian and Yu ZiYuan are dead. Jiang WanYin and his sister are missing.”
“What about Wei WuXian?” Lan WangJi asked, trying to not show how anxious he was.
“All we know is that he was not listed among the dead.”
His brother was still missing. His father was dead. His uncle was wounded and missing. So many disciples were dead or missing. His…. Wei Ying was missing. Perhaps dead.
His fellow disciples were looking to him for leadership in the absence of anyone more senior. To stay in Cloud Recesses much longer would be foolish. The Wen were still patrolling the area. So where to go? The obvious choices were Lanling and Qinghe.
The Jiang siblings might go to Meishan to take shelter with their maternal grandparents. Given that Wei WuXian was instrumental in the dissolution of the marriage contract between Jiang YanLi and Jin ZiXuan, he assumed the Head Disciple was not going to be welcomed with open arms there. Wei WuXian would head to friends for shelter.
“We will go to the Unclean Realm,” Lan WangJi decided. “XiongZhang will surely head there because of his friendship with Nie ZongZhu.”
And if Qinghe happened to be where Wei WuXian would head, too? No one else had to know.
***
Obeying the strange spirit and paying attention to Wei WuXian was not a hardship. In fact, Wei WuXian made it easy with his new unorthodox cultivation.
Whether it was following him in battle, or off Phoenix Mountain, or simply making sure a very drunk Wei WuXian would not be accosted by Jin JiXun or his minions on his way back to his rooms, Lan WangJi was more than happy to pay attention.
Upon leaving the courtyard, Lan WangJi slowed to a brisk walk. Do not run. His lips tingled; he could still taste the wine staining Wei Ying’s lips. Intoxicating in so many ways. He knocked on his brother’s door and waited for the calm “Please enter.”
Lan Zhan knelt and bowed his head. “Please punish this one, XiongZhang.”
“WangJi… what happened?”
“I assaulted Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan could feel his ears burning: his face must be bright scarlett.
Lan XiChen laughed softly. “Are you sure Wei GongZi didn’t deserve it? The way the two of you argue, it was bound to end in a physical fight sooner or later.”
“I didn’t hit him,” Lan WangJi corrected and bowed his head almost all the way to the floor. “I kissed him. He was sitting on a tree branch, blindfolded, and I couldn’t stop myself.” The last part came out in a whisper.
“You kissed him?”
Lan Zhan nodded miserably. “Please punish me, XiongZhang.”
“WangJi… do you… do you care for Wei WuXian?” Lan Zhan nodded again, grateful that his hair was covering his flush. “WangJi… does he care for you, too?” This time Lan Zhan shook his head, no. “And you kissed him anyway?” Lan Zhan didn’t feel like that needed an answer. He had already confessed to his crime. All that remained was an appropriate punishment. Lan XiChen paced for a few moments, apparently thinking. “Did you hurt him?”
Lan WangJi could feel his skin burning even hotter. “No, XiongZhang. WangJi held Wei GongZi’s hands so he couldn’t get away. Then WangJi pressed his body against Wei GongZi’s body to hold him still.” Describing the assault as if someone else committed it was easier than confessing he did it. He half hoped the punishment would be death. Then he wouldn’t have to face Wei Ying again. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ echoed in his head.
Why did I kiss you? Wei WuXian was there and blindfolded, and then Lan Zhan was kissing him. There was no conscious decision. Just want and need and desire and the half baked belief that he might get away with it. It was amazing: exceeding every dream he’d ever had. He yearned to do it again. And again. To fill his hands with Wei Ying’s body, run his fingers over Wei Ying’s skin, to feel him respond to those touches. To be caressed in return.
‘What if I want you to do it again? I liked it. I know you liked it, too.’ Lan WangJi cringed upon remembering those words. Wei Ying liked it. Wei Ying liked it. Wei Ying liked it. Wei Ying liked it. It was too dangerous to think he’d actually meant it as anything more than a passing pleasure.
Wei WuXian obviously had no idea the sheer magnitude of what had been done to him. Kissed. By a man. His talk about men having needs and taking care of each other aside, Wei WuXian was obviously not a cut sleeve. He looked admiringly at women. He flirted with women. He talked about marrying a woman. He might temporarily slake his needs with a man, but in the end he would return to women.
Wei Ying had spent all of their time together trying to make friends with Lan Zhan. Friends. Not lovers. Never lovers. “Please, XiongZhang. Please punish me.”
Lan XiChen sighed. “I will talk with Wei GongZi in the morning. You and I can discuss an appropriate punishment after that. Go to sleep, Didi. Gege will take care of everything.”
Wei Ying refused to admit to the assault. He’d insisted it was consensual. Lan XiChen refused to punish his brother for a consensual kiss. Upon returning to Cloud Recesses, Lan WangJi punished himself for his transgression. He did handstands and copied Discipline a hundred times with each hand.
That wasn’t enough.
He knelt on pebbles before the stone engraved Rules for days, reading and re-reading what was already engraved in his mind and soul.
That wasn’t enough, either.
He felt his soul was stained. By his actions. By his reactions. By Wei Ying’s reactions. ‘I liked it. I know you liked it, too.’ He escaped sometimes to the clearing where the rabbits lived (not his rabbits; Lan disciples do not keep pets), and daydreamed. Wei Ying smiling across a sea of bunnies, whispering sweet words into their ears while looking into Lan Zhan’s eyes. Both of them knowing the sweet words were meant for the human, not the rabbits. The two of them lying hidden in the grass, bodies entwined, hands groping for flesh hidden beneath robes.
Night time was for nightmares. Sometimes Wei Ying would stand over his kneeling body and denounce him to the entire sect and then laugh as Lan WangJi’s body was struck over and over with the discipline whip. Sometimes, Wei Ying would smile evilly and cruelly state that he would never want to be associated with a cut sleeve.
The invitation to visit Lotus Pier to rest and relax before the New Year preparations was both welcome and not. The Lan delegation arrived to find an angry Jiang WanYin ranting that Wei Ying had abruptly taken off to visit friends and had yet to return.
Lan WangJi took to walking around Lotus Pier and the town outside it while they waited for other clan leaders to arrive and the discussion to begin. A child’s voice interrupted his musings. “A’Yuan wants Mama. A’Yuan hungry! Want Mama give me meat bun!”
“Mama’s dead, Baobao. Look! The gates are just over there. Your new home is so close. YanLi Jiejie will give you lots of good food. Just wait a little bit more, okay?” That was Wei Ying’s voice. Lan WangJi looked towards the sound to see Wei Ying walking a horse and holding onto the toddler sitting in the saddle.
“No. Baobao hungry now. Want Mama. Want my mama,” the child stated firmly.
“A’Die knows, Baobao. A’Die wishes your mama was here, too. Look. There’s a stall with meat buns. Can A’Die feed you one?”
Lan WangJi felt as if his entire body was frozen in ice. A’Die? Wei Ying has a son? He listened numbly as Wei WuXian talked to the stall owner. Scattered words formed a picture: A’Yuan’s mother died only a few weeks ago, so now Wei Ying was bringing his son back to Lotus Pier.
Weeks. The timeframe sank into his belly like rotting food. While he was assaulting Wei Ying back in Koi Tower, Wei Ying’s wife was caring for their child back in Yunmeng. And now she was dead.