apparently I'm not done with my newly resurrected chengqing bullshit -
semi crack semi angst idea that wen ning did to his sister what wen qing did to wwx, aka: wen ning had listened to wen qing all his life, but by god he was not gonna like her die for his mistake.
wen ning went to lanling by himself maybe with the rest of the wens.
in any case when the cultivators stormed the burial mount after wwx's demise, lwj found a-yuan, jiang cheng found wen qing.
just imagine the awkward lock-eye between these two dumb bitches
I won't snitch if you don't snitch.
obviously wq and jc has to work through some stuff but like...
very quickly jc realizes ppl straight up don't recognize wq. Think about it. She showed up for 35 seconds at Cloud Recesses and never attended class. And then... the war happened and she was never really a player. Probably some ppl met her, but how many of them are still alive?
Sure jc had to hide wq the first couple of years, but after jgs mysteriously bit the dust... things relaxed by a lot.
Jc being that bitch that stares everyone in the eye whilst lying to their faces: how dare you accuse my wife of being a dead war criminal.
The Wens are prepared with torches to burn down wooden beams that have stood for centuries, they bring swords and as many foot soldiers as possible to fight the prestigious disciples of the Lan sect, to slay them where they stand, paint the pristine white walls as red as the bird on their banners.
But they are not prepared for the anger of a god.
————————————————————
This is a story of a remote sect and a lonely deity, lost to the mountains until Lan An found his shrine again, cleaned it up, placed offerings and lit incense to welcome back the one who is now known as HanguangJun.
He loves his small humans, especially the children who tumble into his shrine, tiny and fragile like the wild white rabbits that visit his home. They bow clumsily but so very earnestly, offerings clutched in pudgy fists, slightly creased and yet worth so much more than blank, dead jewels and coffers full of gold he would never need.
One of the humans is a young, lonely woman. She looks tired each day she climbs up here, her robes as grey as the rocks surrounding his humble shrine. She lights incense and brings loquats she smuggled, rabbits spilling from her sleeves. Talks to him more than she prays, tells him how she stole away from the house they hold her prisoner in for an act of self defense, tells him how alone she is in these cold and remote mountains, speaks of how these visits are her only joy.
Day after day she struggles more and more to come up here, looks haggard, falls in on herself. Her eyes are still bright and alert but she seems lonelier than ever until one day her visits cease completely.
(They say it rained for a week after Madam Lan died, a cold and unforgiving wind howling through the mountains, that even the old trees sounded as if they were crying out with one voice. When ZewuJun, by that time still Lan Xichen, wants to clean his mother’s home, he finds an empty plot of land, a gurgling river and a small cluster of gentians. He remembers her telling him of the shrine on her deathbed, of the shrine and a lonely god who was almost like a son to her.)
————————————————————
The summer comes warm and with the sound of cicada song, a cooling breeze dancing around the feet of the visiting disciples that look in awe at the grand entrance carved from white stone. The sacred rabbits mill about and the atmosphere has something ethereal, something otherworldly. Even the rowdiest young people feel that someone resides here and watches over their every step.
Still, some of them find time to wander about, relax and swim in the streams that are rumoured to belong to the deity guarding this prestigious sect. One of them is Wei Wuxian, disciple of Baoshan Sanren, martial nephew to Xiao Xinchgen and Song Lan, a bright and curious youth, smart and wild like the streams rushing through the mountains of Gusu. He makes fast friends with the Jiang siblings and Nie Huaisang, who is also the one who tells him of the Keeper of the Mountains.
He treks up the mountain like so many before him, wind and sunlight dancing through his hair in a thousand ways of welcoming him, playing with his red ribbon almost like a bird tugging at it to bring it to its nest. He walks the path that has been smoothed down by footfall and age, anticipation blooming in his chest.
When he stumbles upon a remote house in the mountains and finds a man in there practising calligraphy with a steady and beautiful hand, he asks him (slightly breathlessly and shining like the sunlight that caresses his hair like a lover would) if he knows of the Keeper of the Mountains, of HanguangJun. The man lifts his head, his features elegant and placid like the finest white jade, hair like an ink spill and eyes the colour of dark, warm earth caught in a sunbeam and says in a voice that reminds him of sprawling riverbeds and the endlessness of the horizon beyond the mountains “Yes. I do.”
He offers spices to the shrine the man showed him when he walks down the mountain, tells the sky-blue tassels and the calmly chewing rabbits that he sadly does not have much to offer but that maybe this will be a joy to the deity in an otherwise bland cuisine. When he visits the man in his remote little house again, he serves food that swims with red and smells of spices that remind Wei Wuxian of home. He plays guqin and makes tea, pets the rabbits that wander up here and is a calming presence in the turmoil of burgeoning youth and a looming war.
————————————————————
War comes faster than most sects have time to recruit anyone. It carries a banner with a screeching bird the colour of the blood that will soon spill.
Some flee, some fight. And some? Some pray.
ZewuJun carries himself to the shrine, his sword already bloodied, panting and shaking, his hands and robes dirtied with red, so much red. He falls onto his knees, begs for his sect, for his mother who was once a beloved worshipper, for the children who should never be part of this bloodshed. For himself and for his uncle.
As he walks down the mountain, his sword sings in tandem with that of a god, glowing, radiant in his anger. Wens fall to his Bichen like autumn leaves, fires wink out in a wave of his hand. He steps in front of the building the little disciples and those unable to fight are hiding in, rabbits clustered around his feet, sword raised and a snarl on his ethereal face. Now Lan Xichen knows why a calm god like him is called HanguangJun, the Keeper of the Mountains. “Not a step further,” he says and his voice sounds like thunder. ZewuJun never had a brother, he is an only child but his mother told him of the lonely god she saw as a son of hers as much as himself and so he falls in step with the god, raising his own sword.
The Wens flee as if demons are hunting them.
—————————————————————
In Yunmeng, the Jiangs are in a similar situation, cornered like a fox by wild dogs, fighting until their fingers bleed, teeth and swords bared, attempting the impossible. Jiang Yanli, too weak to lift a sword but very versed with a cooking ladle is doing the best she can but her parents, her brother and her home are in danger. She is not ready to die yet, so she kneels down right here in the kitchen that is as good as hers, spreads out spices and prays to the god Wei Wuxian told her of. Her voice is shaking and she is holding the sharpest, longest knife she has (the one she uses to cut the ribs) in an iron grip.
She feels the cold encroaching, maybe because she grew up as child of the swamps, child of the summer heat in which robes stuck to your back regardless of how fine the silk is, sees the fog rolling in before anyone else does. Hears the reverberating twang of a guqin echoing over the lake, sees the lotuses bobbing up and down in a sharp wind smelling of mountain flowers. Sees the ice climbing up the wooden pillars that have supported Lotus Pier for years. Feels, more than sees him land on the pier, his anger radiating out, sword as unbending as the mountains he hails from still dripping with blood, a guqin in his hands made from a material that is as white as bleached bone.
He is terrifying but she is not scared. She is not afraid of the god who came when she called, a disciple mostly unknown to him but from the stories of the lovely young disciple she sees as a brother.
She falls in stride with him, holding her kitchen knife, her teeth bared and her footfall sure next to the god and his glowing white robes. Watches him fall in tandem with her little brother, with her mother, dance a deadly waltz with Wen Zhuliu, incandescent with rage. Her mother gets him, gets his hand that ended so many cultivators and the god that came to save them ends the life of Wen Chao, spears his heart with his gleaming sword.
He nods at her and she feels warmth wash over her, a benediction, an approval of her bravery. She lets the knife fall to the ground and sobs into his white robes, shaking and thanking him over and over. “No need,” he says and his voice really is a mountain river, calm and powerful. “You are steel wrapped in silk. A heart full of warmth. Fire too. You are one of mine too. I will protect you. Coming generations as well.”
He stays for a few days. He stays even though his sect must surely ask where their god has suddenly gone. Indulges Yanli in the kitchen and Wanyin on the training field, cleans up and heald. He is very homely for a being of such acclaim, quiet but curious, kind in a way that displays a hidden strength.
At the end of the week, Baoshan Sanren’s disciples come from their mountain and Yanli watches the god light up in a careful but very powerful way, like the sunrise over the mountains as the wild disciple with the red ribbon dancing in his hair runs up to hug him, sees the tall man cup his cheeks with a gentleness and devotion that borders on worship, sunlight and the god’s own glow illuminating them as they lean their foreheads against each others on her family’s pier, smiling without noticing anything or anyone else.
Wei Wuxian receives something most people work a thousand lifetimes for, most people will never gain, one mortal lost his life for: the approval and most importantly the regard of his hermit, the love of the Keeper of the Mountains. The heart of a god.
- 🍄 anon
🍄 anon wrote this for the @mdzsnet 'two years with cql' event ☁️💙☁️
Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.
He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.
Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.
“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.
Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.
He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.
He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.
Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.
Oh. Oh, that explains it.
It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.
Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.
It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.
He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.
Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –
He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that --- that body, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.
Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.
It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck, that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.
It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.
Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…
“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.
He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.
“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”
He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”
He thinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.
“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”
Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”
“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.
Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”
“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.
“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”
“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.
“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”
The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.
For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…
Nah, couldn’t be.
The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.
Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.
“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.
Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite -- a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”
Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.
“Wei-xiong!”
Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”
Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.
It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.
Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.
Reposting this because the LJ-cut didn’t work the first time.The prompt was “give me an AU and I’ll give you the first kiss for that AU,” wangxian, childhood friends, by @notenoughgatorade.
Disclaimer: feel free to think of this in america if i say a thing that wouldn’t happen in china, it’s a little kissy ficlet, chill out. props to @hils79 for the bunny!
2nd disclaimer: the LJ-cut doesn’t seem to be working for me so I apologize for the long post!
“Lan Zhan, do you remember the time I kissed you?”
Lan Zhan stops. Of course he remembers. He didn’t think Wei Ying remembered.
It’s their last night as college students. Tomorrow, they graduate, and it’s a whole new world. For tonight, they sit on the roof and drink. Well, Wei Ying drinks. Lan Zhan sits, and looks at Wei Ying, and yearns.
They’ve been talking about childhood memories. Playing in the back hills of Cloud Recesses in the snow. Trying, and failing, to smoke cigarettes when they were thirteen. Their field trip to the zoo as fifth graders, when Jin Zixuan threw up on the way back. And now … this.
He plays dumb. “You kissed me?”
“Oh, of course you don’t remember it!” Wei Ying laughs. “We were tiny. In first grade, we had, I guess it was a playdate? Our uncles took us to a park. There was a dog off its leash and I ran screaming. Don’t look at me like that, Lan Zhan, the dog was huge and I was six. Anyway, you got all angry and chased it off, and I was so happy and for some reason I had in my head that kissing someone was the best way to thank them, so I just popped one on your mouth.”
Lan Zhan puts a finger to his lips, remembering. The taste of it. The way Wei Ying had looked at him with those big, tear-filled eyes. The resolution that formed in his heart, with the certainty of childhood and more: I will always protect him.
And he has. Whenever Wei Ying has needed him, he has been there. He hid with Wei Ying in the forest the night Wei Ying ran away from home. In high school, he eased Wei Ying’s broken heart when the first girl he liked didn’t like him back. He lent him notes for tests, walked him home when he missed the last bus, helped him write his college admissions essay. Even came to this school, to be close to him. Just in case Wei Ying needed him.
Tomorrow all that might disappear. Wei Ying’s determined to move to the big city, make his living as an artist. Lan Zhan has obligations back at home. He’s invited Wei Ying to come back and live there; there’s plenty of room for him, even studio space, but Wei Ying is resolute. No, he wants to be where all the action is. He wants it more than he wants Lan Zhan and that’s just the way it is. The way it’s always been.
“The dog wasn’t that big,” Lan Zhan says.
“So you do remember!” Wei Ying turns to him with wide, sparkling eyes. “I was six,” he adds peevishly, “all dogs were big.”
“I was six too,” Lan Zhan reminds him. Wei Ying grumbles.
“Anyway! I think that’s the day we became best friends, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Wei Ying is flushed with the alcohol, and boldly, he scoots closer to Lan Zhan on the rooftop. “I should give you another kiss,” he says.
Lan Zhan’s heartbeat quickens. “Why?”
“As a thank-you!” Wei Ying. “You’ve been my best friend for so long, and I couldn’t have gotten here without you. Come here, Lan Zhan.” He slings an arm around him and presses his lips into an exaggerated pucker. “Let me lay one on you.”
Lan Zhan dodges. “Stop it,” he says. “You’re drunk.”
“So what? I’m always drunk. Doesn’t make me love you any less. Come on now, Lan Zhan, kiss me back. You should say thank-you to me, too!”
“For what?” Lan Zhan has to dodge another attack, as Wei Ying darts in to try to catch his mouth.
“For all the fun you’ve had with me all these years! Admit it, without me you’d be locked up studying all day and night. I got you in trouble for the first time, and it was the best thing to ever happen to you. Come on, thank me.”
Lan Zhan holds him at arm’s length. The warmth of him seeps into his hands, goes rushing up through his arms, makes his heart swell uncomfortably. “I’m not kissing you to say thank-you,” he insists.
“Then sit still and let me thank yo–oohh!” Lan Zhan dodges a final time, and loses his grip on Wei Ying, who goes sprawling across the roof tiles. He scrambles to get his bearings and grabs Lan Zhan’s shirt; Lan Zhan gasps as he loses his balance and falls over Wei Ying. He grabs the nearest thing he can find, which is Wei Ying’s waist, and just manages to keep from smashing their heads together.
So now here they are, Wei Ying lying on the roof on his back, with Lan Zhan over him, a breath away. Wei Ying won’t stop laughing. “Now you should definitely kiss me,” he says. “This is too good, this is like you see in the movies. You fell on top of me, now you have to kiss me. That’s the rule.”
Lan Zhan fights for reason. “What rule?”
Wei Ying loops his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. “The rule I just made up,” he says. “The rule that says if we lie like this, we have to–” Suddenly he cranes upward, trying to reach Lan Zhan’s lips. Lan Zhan pulls away, but Wei Ying still has him in a loose grip, and he can’t sit up or get away.
“Stop it.” Lan Zhan scowls down at him. His temperature is rising and his patience is fraying.
“Why? Is it that you don’t want to kiss me?” Wei Ying is still laughing. “Lan Zhan, don’t tell me it’s that you don’t want to kiss me. I promise my alcohol breath isn’t that bad. I’m only tipsy! Come on, pucker up.”
“No.”
“You’re being difficult!” Wei Ying yanks with both hands, pulls Lan Zhan’s head close. “Why can’t you just say thank-you like we did when we were six?”
“If I kiss you,” Lan Zhan warns, “it won’t be a thank-you.”
Wei Ying blinks, for once out of words. His lips go slack and his hands let go of their grip. If Lan Zhan moves now, he could get free, go back inside, get some distance and some sanity back.
He could. It’d be the wisest thing to do.
Instead, he kisses him.
His mouth comes down on Wei Ying’s with the suppressed passion of years and years spent wanting. It’s the last night of college and Lan Zhan might never see him again and he needs this now, to take one thing for himself, after years of giving and giving. He kisses Wei Ying greedily, grazing his teeth over Wei Ying’s lips, licking them apart.
Even with everything, all the pent-up frustration, if Wei Ying resisted for even a moment, Lan Zhan knows he would scramble back, apologize, and leave him alone. But Wei Ying isn’t pushing him away. No, Wei Ying is kissing back, one hand tangled in Lan Zhan’s hair, the other on his shoulder, pulling him closer. Wei Ying’s tongue licks at his, and he moans, Wei Ying moans, and the sound sends a red flare of heat down through Lan Zhan’s whole body.
He’s kissing back like he wants this. Like he’s wanted this since before. But Lan Zhan can’t be that lucky, can he?
He stops, pulls up, looks down at Wei Ying. His mouth is pink from kisses and bites, his eyes steady.
“You could have told me, Lan Zhan,” he says, running a hand through Lan Zhan’s hair. “You could have told me years ago.”
Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”
“So shy.” Wei Ying tsks gently. His smile is small, understated for a man who often grins big as a planet, but it’s there. “Do you know how much time we’ve wasted? We should have been doing this in high school.”
“I–” Lan Zhan can’t get hold of his thoughts. “Then you–”
“Lan Wangji, you obtuse idiot,” Wei Ying says, “I’ve been in love with you since middle school.”
Lan Zhan can only stare.
“All through high school, your name over and over on the margins of my notes,” Wei Ying goes on. “Daydreaming about dancing with you at prom. So afraid you’d run off to another college without me. Wet dreams, Lan Zhan, the wet dreams!” He laughs, that wide smile back where it belongs.
“Then why didn’t you–?”
“Me? You were Lan Zhan! You were the straight-A student who had too much studying to do! I was lucky to get you out of your house for an hour! Everyone knew I was dragging you down. How could I demand any more of you than you already gave me? I knew I didn’t deserve you.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. They’re the only words he can get out out.
Wei Ying’s eyes shine as he looks up. “My beautiful Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. He trails a finger along the line of Lan Zhan’s jaw. “Please accept this kiss as a thank-you for everything you’ve done for me all my life.” He leans up, pecks Lan Zhan on the mouth once, and lies back down.
Lan Zhan’s eyes brim with tears. “And this kiss is my thank you to Wei Ying.” He gives Wei Ying an answering peck. They smile at each other in the moonlit night.
“And this kiss,” Wei Ying says, “and every other kiss from now on, is because I love you.”
An AU where the Wens aren’t so war-happy and instead are just an annoyance that the cultivation world has to put up with.
So, no war imminent, no Yin iron.
In the little story I wrote, the Wens are pushing for a political marriage between the Wen and Nie Sects. WWX and NHS are bros.
Wei Wuxian paused in his drawing when he heard a loud crash. It didn’t sound close but was definitely still in the Unclean Realm. And it didn’t sound like a training mishap. Wei Wuxian looked to Nie Huaisang to ask if he knew, and saw the other boy hurriedly getting dressed.
“It didn’t sound that close.” Wei Wuxian says, mistaking Nie Huaisang’s rush as worry someone might check up on them. Which Wei Wuxian would understand more if they were in Lotus Pier. Nie Zonghui once walked in on them and the man just sighed and walked out. But when one of Wei Wuxian’s Shixiong walked in they made a huge fuss and both Mie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian got lectured on propriety.
Apparently nude drawings of your friend are not considered proper. Who knew?
“No, it was from Da Ge’s office.” Ohkay? So why is Nie Huaisang getting dressed? Wei Wuxian doesn’t ask, more confused as Nie Huaisang shoves him gently and sits down next to him. He places opens a book and carefully puts it on the nude drawing, and then starts explaining Saber forms to Wei Wuxian.
Which is even more confusing, but Wei Wuxian goes along with it, carefully turning the pages of the book and asking questions about the forms that interested him. Considering he wielded a sword, these were mostly useless to him, however, it was still interesting. A few minutes pass before Nie Huaisang’s door is flung open and in walks Chifeng-zun. He doesn’t even look at them, immediately flopping face first onto Nie Huaisang’s bed. Wei Wuxian looks to Nie Huaisang, who does not seem surprised at all by this developement.
“What’s wrong Da Ge?” Nie Huaisang asks.
Chifeng-zun groans and doesn’t move for a minute before he slowly sits upright. And speaks through gritted teeth, “Wen Ruohan proposed a marriage treaty.”
“Oh?” Nie Huaisang prompts, completely ignoring how pissed off Chifeng-zun looks. Wei Wuxian is pretty sure he should be elsewhere. Not here. This felt like a private conversation.
“He wants to marry in one of his sons.” Chifeng-zun adds, not unclenching his jaw.
“Wen Chao. Wen Xu is his heir so he can’t be married outside of Qishan.” Wei Wuxian says before he can stop himself. Neither Nie Huaisang nor Chifeng-zun tell him to shut up or leave, so he feels a bit safer, and responds to Nie Huaisang’s surprised look. “What? I listen. Also, ew. Say no.” That gets him a whack from Nie Huaisang’s fan. “You hate him as much as me. Besides, you’re Sect Heir, just because Qinghe Nie puts righteousness and skill above bloodline doesn’t mean the elders would be happy if the Nie family bloodline ended with you. Perfect excuse.” Wei Wuxian defends.
Chifeng-zun scoffs, “It would be, if the marriage proposal had been to Nie Huaisang.”
“It wasn’t?” Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian ask at the same time, Nie Huaisang’s was filled with dread while Wei Wuxian’s was filled with confusion.
“Ew.” Wei Wuxian says after a moment, realizing what that meant. “Don’t marry Wen Chao, he’s gross.”
“Wei-Xiong.” Nie Huaisang whines.
“He is.”
Chifeng-zun snorts, “I don’t disagree. But that’s not a good enough reason to refuse him.”
“And you don’t have any others?” The look Chifeng-zun gives to Wei Wuxian is both terrifying and telling that he is literally at the end of his rope. And has no more excuses for Wen Ruohan. “Well, that sucks.”
Chifeng-zun huffs and goes back to laying down on Nie Huaisang’s bed.
Nie Huaisang opens his fan and starts fanning himself, thinking with a pout. “Wei-xiong, do you have any ideas?” Nie Huaisang asks, clearly at a loss himself.
Wei Wuxian shrugs, “Not really. You’re Chifeng-zun’s heir so the normal excuse of needing a child-bearing marriage is out. He hasn’t expressed any interest in anyone, and he’s made no move to be married. A political marriage to strengthen frayed ties between sects isn’t that abnormal. And it would reflect badly on QingheNie to outright refuse a marriage contract from His Excellency without a solid reason why.” Wei Wuxian shrugs again, “This is why I’m glad I’m just a servant. No political mumbo jumbo and arranged marriages. I just have to keep from insulting people and making the Jiang Sect look bad.”
“You fail at that a lot.” Nie Huaisang points out.
Wei Wuxian shoves him in response. “Shut up. The only way to get out of this is marriage to someone other than Wen Chao. And to not make it look like a personal slight against His Excellency, it’d have to appear to have already been in the works.”
“Like, backdate the paperwork?” Nie Huaisang asks, clearly thinking.
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, “No, a marriage contract isn’t necessary. Just, I don’t know, it’d have to be someone Chifeng-zun either talks to, has been talking to recently or someone staying in the Unclean Realm with no clear reason. An excuse can be made that Chifeng-zun was getting to know his potential betrothed before asking for their hand in marriage.”
Nie Huaisang closes his fan and taps it against his chin for a few seconds before standing up, dragging Wei Wuxian up with him and leaving his bedroom and Chifeng-zun. Wei Wuxian was curious as to what they were doing but when he tried to ask he was shushed. And then they started sneaking around and Wei Wuxian isn’t so stupid he’d start making noise now, so he quietly follows Nie Huaisang through the Unclean Realm.
When they enter Chifeng-zun’s office and Nie Huaisang goes to his desk, Wei Wuxian hisses, “What are you doing?”
“You said yourself, the only way out is for Da Ge to get married.”
“Yes. But who are you engaging him to? And shouldn’t you get his permission? What if he hates them?”
Nie Huaisang pauses in his writing to look up at Wei Wuxian with a confused expression. Did his brothers feelings not factor into Nie Huaisang’s plan? “You- I thought-” Nie Huaisang clears his throat, “Da Ge likes them fine.” Nie Huaisang settles on, looking somewhat confused but also like he does not want to deal with this. He finishes writing, forging Chifeng-zun signature and then moving it to the top of a pile, “Uh, don’t be alone with Da Ge.”
What? “...Wasn’t planning on it.” Wei Wuxian was here to spend time with Nie Huaisang and do nude drawings in peace without Jiang Cheng or a Shixiong interrupting them and causing a fuss. Not that they told anyone that. Officially he was on a night hunt nearby (true) and decided to stop by for a visit. Two weeks ago. He hasn’t gotten an angry letter from Jiang Cheng yet so he’s not required home anytime soon.
“Good.” Huiasang says, and drags Wei Wuxian out of Chifeng-zun’s office. “Zonghui!” The man walks over to Nie Huaisang, not even questioning why they just left Chifeng-zun’s office when the man was in Nie Huaisang’s room. “I have to go do something, keep an eye on Wei-xiong.” Nie Zonghui was clearly confused, but nods in agreement. Nie Huaisang flees immediately after.
“Uh, hi?” Wei Wuxian says, since he’s pretty sure they’ve never been introduced. And the last time Wei Wuxian saw the man Wei Wuxian was mostly naked. So, he wasn’t sure if that would be brought up or...
Nie Zonghui salutes, “Wei-Gongzi,” Wei Wuxian salutes Nie Zonghui back,”did you have any plans?”
“No. Did you?”
“I was intending to head to the training grounds.” Nie Zonghui says calmly, in a way that added ‘but you take priority’ silently. Wei Wuxian had heard the tone dozens of time back at Lotus Pier, had used it himself with guests.
“Lead the way.” Wei Wuxian says with a shrug, following after the older man. He still doesn’t understand why Nie Huaisang abandoned him, or what was going on, but he might as well get to know Nie Zonghui. “So, what do you like to do for fun?”
In Untamed only, the Wen Qing rescue by Jiang Cheng could parallel the Lan Furen situation. She could be saved by being taken in by the sect leader, but she would be isolated, her family lost to her. Like, its more meta then textual but Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji have no mention of their mothers family. Lan furen presumably agreed while Wen Qing walked away. Lan furen lived a long time with her children taken away to be raised without her, Wen Qing dies right away with Wen Yuan taken to be raised by those same strangers.
Huh.... I never looked at it that way, but yeah you're right! On some level it is similar!
And then my mind promptly poofed up an alternative scenario if JIang Cheng also did what Qingheng-jun had done.
(tw for noncon? but really there's no noncon, people just think there is)
~~~
Jiang Cheng was audacious only once in his entire life.
When Wen Qing turned to leave that day in Qishan's dungeon, the comb she gave back to him abandoned on the stone bench between them, Jiang Cheng crossed his heart and decided that attempt the impossible meant sometimes one had to act now and beg for forgiveness later.
Whether the forgiveness he sought had to come from his deceased parents, the entire Jiang Clan past and present, or Wen Qing herself...well...he had the rest of his life to figure it out.
His hand came down on her without hesitation, blunt force striking her squarely where her neck met her shoulder, and she dropped bonelessly into his arms, her future forever changed.
↠↠↠
When Jiang Cheng was a boy, before Wei Wuxian arrived, he had heard of a story.
He was very young then, and Madam Lan had been a nebulous figure, a subject of whispers and gossip, about which very few knew anything concrete. When she died, the older servants at Lotus Pier, unaware that listening ears were just around the corner, had tsked and sighed at her short wasted life. Locked away in a house. Separated from her children.
Well at least her husband loved her.
He did, though? How would anyone know.
Or wanted her, at least.
Whatever is wrong with the young masters of this generation and their poorly chosen women! Either loved but locked up or free but miserable nonetheless. What is the state of this world?!
Jiang Cheng didn't understand then.
In time, he would.
↠↠↠
After she was discovered in the dungeon, Wen Qing woke up in Jiang Wanyin's bed, wearing not a stitch but a bandage around her nape, and discovered herself in the middle of Sunshot Campaign's battle camp. From the two female disciples that had brought her new periwinkle uniforms to change into with barely concealed sneers, Wen Qing learned the reason behind her wretched state. About two dozen disciples of various sects had seen Jiang Wanyin carry her in the previous night and emerge the next morning adjusting his robes in a way that required very little explanation.
It was not that she didn't try to escape. She did.
Where do you think you're going, pretty thing? A Jin disciple interscepted her. They all said that Wei Wuxian was shameless, but seems like shamelessness runs in the family. Still, gotta hand it to him, Jiang Wanyin has good taste.
The disciple grabbed her around the middle while a couple of his sect brothers laughed at her struggle. Does he share? Do you know? He should, it's a virture after all.
Their malicious laughter had turned to yelps of pain when Zidian whipped them three feet into the air and back by a yard.
"Don't touch what it isn't yours."
Sandu's gleaming tip tapped the Jin disciple lightly on the shoulder thrice, mockingly polite in its gentleness. The man released her, all too aware of the distance between his jugular and the sword's edge.
More people gathered at the sound of commotion, coming together with shared morbid curiosity and judging eyes.
Nie Mingjue was there. Lan Wangji right behind him, looking ready to draw his sword and uphold justice.
"Your little tart was running away." Scoffed the Jin disciple. "I was just teasing her. No foul, no harm."
"Is that so?"
And then in front everyone, Jiang Wanyin grabbed her by the hair and reeled her in to press his lips against hers, his other hand unfriendly and uninhitibted. Just as quickly, he detached his mouth from her, sneering at the onlookers before chasing the exposed skin of her neck yanked to one side, and bit down hard enough to draw blood.
Of course she screamed.
"A-Cheng, that's enough."
The others parted for his sister to come through. Jiang Yanli gazed blandly at her little brother and the girl thrashing in his arms, offered no words of admonishment, but merely said, "Go inside if that's what you want to do."
Jiang Cheng threw Wen Qing over his shoulder like a sack of grains without further prompts.
It's what she deserves, that wretched little bitch, Wen Ruohan's witch doctor, the whispers followed them like shadows, but no one raised a hand to Wen Qing again.
As the old saying goes: one would have to check with the master, even if it were only to beat a dog.
(Except: "You know what the world will think of you. What she will think of you." "I know, but...thank you for helping me, A-jie." "Don't thank me, didi, not when you're asking me to help you hurt yourself.")
↠↠↠
It's not that Wen Qing didn't try to kill him either. She couldn't.
Her cultivation was sealed. Semi-permanently. That was what was under the bandage. At the base of her nape, he had carved a sealing rune into her skin, and the only way to reverse it is to carve the counter sigil on her sternum.
Later, she would learn that this was a secret Lan technique, given to Jiang Wanyin by Old Man Lan himself. She could only guess what he must've said to convince the pedantic old man to hand over his family's protected secret.
(He had said this: "I love her, Grandmaster Lan, please!" "You are a preposterous boy, Jiang-gongzi." "I love her, as your brother loved your sister-in-law!" "You-" "I've heard of the stories, I don't know how much is true. Only...Wen Qing is innocent! Prideful yes, but innocent! Help me. Please. I will do anything in return.")
After her failed escape and that awful display in front of the whole camp, Jiang Wangyin never showed his face to her again. The Jiangs installed her in her own tent with confinement talismens to prevent her from further attempts. Every night, two disciples came to give her (or force feed her if she refused) a concoction of some sort, which rendered her unconscious within minutes and unrousable until dawn.
She could lie to herself and say she hadn't a clue what happened within those hours, but the fact she always awakened in some state of undress and dishevel the next morning, and the fact that it was undisbutedly known amongst the disciples - Jiang or otherwise - that Jiang Wanyin visited her nightly whenever he wasn't out fighting, narrowed the possibilities down to a singular conclusion.
In the maelstrom of her nightmare, it didn't occur her to wonder why he never came to her during the day.
(The truth was this: Lan Xichen was sympathetic, "Your cultivation is derived from water, hers from fire. A seal fused with your cultivation without some kind of...buffer will inevitably harm her in the long run, erode through her golden core until she is permanently damaged. Give this tonic to her everynight. Without fail.")
(But also this: "Why must we continue this farce, A-Cheng, just tell her the truth! Why must you make her believe that you -" "I own her, but do not love her. I am her master, not her lover. She is damaged goods, worthless even as a leverage. That's the only way the others will leave her alone." "A-Cheng, you don't have to do this -" "I do. I do have to....is there any word on Wen Ning? Have we found him?" )
↠↠↠
Then one morning, about a month in, Wen Qing woke to the sound of thunder and rain and realized she wasn't alone. Even with her cultivation sealed she could feel another presence in the tent. Seconds later, Jiang Wanyin emerged from behind the trifold, hair unbound, barefoot and only in his underclothing.
He froze when he realized she was awake, and stared at her agape as if she'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. As if somehow she didn't know he'd been violating her for weeks.
(Unfortunately: the storm had collapsed many tents in the camp in the early morning, including his and his sister's. Jiang Yanli had been invited to stay with Mianmian, and Jiang Cheng, knowing Wen Qing would be dead to the world, had ducked into her tent to quickly change into dry clothes.)
And if there had been some part of her that wanted to deny it all, that wanted to hang on to the delusion - to hope - that maybe nothing happened while she lost consciousness nightly, in that moment, was dashed and divided until all that was left of her was rage and a desire to inflict revenge.
She sat up, not even bothering to cover her half nude body, and said,
"The golden core in your body is Wei Wuxian's."
↠↠↠
Wen Qing had hoped that she could goat Jiang Wanyin into killing her, to end her misery.
He didn't.
Three days later, Wei Wuxian re-appeared.
↠↠↠
(In his letter to Jiang Wanyin a day before the Siege of Nevernight, Nie Huaisang wrote:
Jiang-xiong,
Hope you're keeping well in the front. I must confess you are a man of gossip and waggling-tongue these days, but I trust in your character to pay them no mind. I write to you without my brother's knowledge to confirm the favour you asked of me is done. Wen Ning has been located and transported to Unclean Realm with the atmost discretion. He recovers daily.
Your friend,
Nie Huaisang
PS: You seriously need to tell me everything after we kick Wen Ruohan's ass. You owe me! )
Final Storyboard 20 Undercut! a bit long since it is the last one. Sorry it took like 8 months... I am a baby doctor and am off doing busy baby doctor things (as in i am junior, not that i'm a neonatologist)
The Emperor, the Consort, and the Concubine:
Like Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen was having relationshp problems of his own. For months after the war, he did not visit Meng Yao, nor did he strip him of his title and rank. Instead, Meng Yao was allowed to carry on living as though nothing had changed, for on paper, nothing had. Still, the ears of the palace had caught wind of the Emperor's changed heart, and of the sordid truths from Meng Yao's past.
Nie Mingjue knew better though. He knew the real reason why Lan Xichen was angry was not because he found out that Meng Yao was the son of a prostitute, but that he had organized and ruled over an entire secret military operation behind Lan Xichen's back. He had everyone on his team: Lan Xichen's uncle, Lan Xichen's husband, Lan Xichen's courtiers...everyone except Lan Xichen himself.
Ultimately Lan Xichen was just hurt by Meng Yao's lack of trust. Nie Mingjue, not wanting to see the two men he loved the most hurting like this, did his best to play the mediator, helping Lan Xichen to understand Meng Yao's reasons. See [Snippet 11].
Yes they reconciled. I'm not crazy, this is a happy story with happy ending for my little meow meows. [Snippet 12].
Hanguang Manor aka all was not well in the state of denmark
Lan Wangji's visit to the Imperial Prison left him in a state of emotional disarray, having discovered the truth about Wei Wuxian's role in the war. As with most things that didn't involve war and battlefield, Lan Wangji's only source of pragmatic advice on how to manage his otherwise clusterfuck of a private life, is his wife.
The candle was burning low in the princess consort's chamber by the time Lan Wangji stumbled through its threshold. Jiang Yanli looked up from from where she was waving a fan slowly beside a slumbering A-Yuan, drool dripping sideways onto his cherub cheek.
"Dianxia..." Jiang Yanli rose to her feet. She stood in her socks, having already dressed down for bed. "A-Yuan was particularly clingy tonight, threw a bit of a tantrum, so I -"
"It is no matter," Lan Wangji shook his head. "I should not have interrupted, I shall return to my own chamber -"
"No, please, stay. There's much we need to discuss." Gesturing at her handmaiden, Jiang Yanli gave instruction to move the little princeling to his own suite. The toddler whined a little when he was lifted into the handmaiden's gentle and practiced embrace, but otherwise remained utterly oblivious. His mother soothed him with a light kiss to his temple and bid him off.
Lan Wangji approached his heir before the maid carried the boy away. He remembered the night Lan Yuan was born and recalled Wei Ying's absolute delight - Lan Zhan, look how adorable he is! I don't mean to play favourite with the children but I think this one is going to be special - aww he yawned. Oh! And he has your nose. Out of his three sons, A-Yuan was the one Lan Zhan knew the least. For the majority of his short young life, Lan Wangji had been away at war. He had once believed when A-Yuan was born that he would grow up raised by all three of them: Yanli, Wei Ying and himself, but now...
"Is it true, what A-Cheng said earlier about A-Xian?"
"It is."
"And what will happen to him?"
"I went to the Ministry of Justice. I..." Lan Wangji stared helpless at his wife. The negotiations for the release and exchange of the prisoners of war were still being deliberated by Qishan's ambassadors and Gusu's Secretariat, but that only meant Wei Ying's days were numbered. "I asked to see the list of prisoners who could potentially be traded. Wei Ying's name was not there."
"What...what does that mean?"
"It means Qishan has discarded Wei Ying, left to Gusu's devices. And I know the court is going to seek justice. Except they do not know that it will be a false one."
Jiang Yanli had always been a meek and obedient girl, but her fortitude and poise throughout the war effort had demonstrated to the world that she was a fiercer woman than anyone ever given her credit for. A fact her husband already knew, which is why she was the only one he trusted to be completely and unquestioningly on his side in his moment of need.
The merits of her character, the fruitfulness of her pregnancy, and the contribution of her maiden familly during the war all came together to supply her elevation from deputy consort to princess consort. The imperial decree came just days after Lan Wangji's victorious return. Jiang Yanli was named his legal wife, the lady of his princely manor, the mother of his heir, just as they had planned all along. Theirs was no love match, but she will be his Empress one day, his partner on the throne. They understood each other well, and Lan Wangji knew that Jiang Yanli would stand with him to fight for Wei Ying. After all, her devotion to her family was absolute. And Wei Ying... Wei Ying was her family, and from the looks of it, she had believed in him even when Lan Wangji himself didn't.
"Tomorrow, dianxia, tomorrow, you and I will go to court and beg our royal brother for clemency. If he knew the truth, if he knew all A-Xian had done for our country, for you, if he knew his love for you -"
"I cannot speak on that, he - tonight -"
"Don't be a fool, my prince. Oh what am I saying, you're both fools. Wei Ying, that idiot boy, of course he would deny everything now. But if you doubt him, doubt his devotion to you, after everything he's done, then perhaps you are an even bigger fool than my brother."
Morning came and brought thunderous summer rain, but despite the downpour, Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji donned their official courtly robes of prince and princess consort and set off to see Lan Xichen. But Lan Xichen was not in his usual imperial study, nor in his official palace of work. Instead, his brother and sister-in-law found him and Nie Mingjue in Fangfei-dian (Fangfei Palace), alternating between handling court matters and serving at Meng Yao's bedside. Unfortunately, their uncle Lan Qiren was also there.
"I am sorry, Wangji. You were never meant to find out this way." Lan Qiren sighed, dropping his tea cup onto the table with a resigned clang. They were in the zhengtang(1) of Fangfei-dian, away from Meng Yao's private quarters where he rested. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren sat at centre front, with Nie Mingjue looking caught in an awkward position to the left.
"Get up, up!" Lan Qiren urged, frowning most disapprovingly. "What are you doing, kneeling there like that in your full regalia, completely inappropriate -"
"Not until bixia has agreed to reveal the truth." Lan Wangji remained unyielding, presenting the silk-bound parchment of his letter of submital with upturned hands, elbows defiantly straight. The letter detailed Wei Wuxian's true allegiance throughout the war, written by his hand and cosigned by himself and Jiang Cheng.
"Hmph!" Angrily, Lan Qiren slammed the table. "Forcing your soverign's hand? This is sedition!"
"You are not the soverign, huangshu!"
Even Nie Mingjue appeared surprised at Lan Wangji's raised tone of voice. For a taciturn and laconic man, this was entirely out of his character. Lan Xichen rose from his seat, for he knew better than anyone present, that this was his baby brother being pushed to his limit.
"Wangji-"
"I beseech you, bixia, huangxiong -" Lan Wangji's voice wavered.He raised his eyes from where he had fixed it upon an indeterminate point ahead of him and gazed up at his older brother desperately. "Da'ge... please."
"Do you understand what you're asking your huangxiong to admit to?" Their uncle interrupted them, but with a softer tone this time. "To create the illusion of Wei Wuxian's alligence to Wen Ruohan, we've had to... make sacrifices of our men, our soldiers, sons and brothers and fathers who now can no longer go home to their families. Their sacrifice earned us the peace we have today. You would have your brother, the soverign, making such an admission which would undermine his rule at a time when this country needs stability and hope! You would, for one man, have the entire country question Xichen's integrity, his judgement, his character when he is the most blameless of us all!"
The hall was silent for a long beat.
And slowly, Lan Wangji lowered his arms, his submittal dropping to the floor. Jiang Yanli reached for him, hesitating, "Dianxia."
When no one spoke further, Jiang Yanli looked fully ready to pick up the submittal and continue where Lan Wangji had failed. But it was not necessary. Her husband stilled her hand and said without looking at anyone this time: "You are right, huangshu. Huangxiong is innocent, but Wei Ying was not the one who orchestrated those underhanded schemes either, was he? You and I both know, huangshu, which mind - mastermind - was behind it all."
Lan Xichen's expression stuttered, the worry and empathy in his eyes cooling and overtaken by another kind of emotion, something thicker, darker. Behind him, Lan Wangji saw from the corner of his eyes Nie Mingjue's fist tighten anxiously.
"Hanguang-wang -"
"Do not scold him, Da'ge. He is right." Meng Yao voice came from the doorway. He was dressed in mere sleepwear, hair half bound, with a cloak draped over his shoulders, the edge of which was damp with rain despite the umbrella Hengsheng held overhead.
"A-Yao," Nie Mingjue hurriedly helped him into the room and chastised without much heat. "You should be resting."
"I am rested enough. And it's true what he says. I was the one behind it all."
"No." Before either one of Meng Yao's lovers could protest, it was Lan Qiren who disputed his claim. "What you did was brokering an agreement with Dafan-junzhu Wen Qing to protect Gusu, supplant Wen Ruohan and replace him with her father. You did it with the full knowledge of myself, the late Marshal Jiang and Mingjue. And believe me, A-Yao, I had you investigated extremely thoroughly, and I am satisfied to say you did not act against Gusu's longterm interest in any way.
"We cannot reveal your bargain without compromising the identity of the other party. We promised Wen Qing that her father's rule would not be stained by treason, collution with outside forces, and kin-killing. Qishan needs peace and time to heal as much as we do. Dafan-junwang will make a good soverign for his people, and a good neighbour to Gusu. For the sake of our citizens, we cannot risk Qishan's court finding a reason to despise and dispose him.
"That aside, whether Wei Wuxian eventually worked for us or not, it is undeniable that he had stolen the defence plans for Yiling which directly led to the massacre that happened and Qishan's subsequent occupation there. He did that of his own volition, for Wen Ruohan. Not for us. If nothing else, he still has to answer for that, and that alone is enough to cost him his life."
Lan Wangji rose to his feet, Jiang Yanli in toll. There was anger and tears unshed in his eyes, but the way he breathed harshly signalled to all those present that he knew he had lost this fight. He watched his brother take Meng Yao's hand and Nie Mingjue's protective paws curling around Meng Yao shoulders.
Meng Yao stared at him. There was pity in his eyes, but no remorse.
Lan Wangji's knuckles turned white.
Jiang Yanli saw it before anyone else. He wanted Meng Yao dead, but he left wordlessly nonetheless. Out into the pouring rain without another look.
His wife picked up the letter of submittal and sighed. "That night, as I understand it, A-Xian had every intention of leaving Gusu and abandoning Wen Ruohan's mission. He no longer wished to fight for any side. It was Lianfang-jun who convinced to him stay. Of course I am happy that my brother, my mother, and my son are all alive today, but sometimes I wonder if A-Xian had just left, perhaps that would've been okay too. I think my husband could've lived hating A-Xian forever, but this...this I don't know."
Jiang Yani collected her self, placed her hands together and dipped into a proper curtsy. "I shall take my leave, and bid you well."
Notes:
1) zhengtang 正堂 - a traditional chinese home, from as small as a peasant's home to a palace, is actually multiple independent houses/structures within one courtyard. This courtyard can be quite complex with multiple inner sections but ultimately the perimeter is a square or rectangular wall enclosure. Each independent house within the courtyard has its functionn. A sleeping quarter is usually in the inner most portion, while a zhengtang is the front and centre house where guests are received formally.
The Execution and Other Related Shenanigan:
Wei Wuxian was scheduled to be executed in the fall. And so began a month long cold war between Lan Wangji and the rest of the Lan family. He shut himself away and refused to see anyone. Jiang Yanli, Luo Qingyang, and Qin Su became increasingly concerned.
"If Wei Wuxian dies, forgive my inauspicious words, but I fear dianxia will do the unthinkable." Mianmian whispered to her harem sisters on a hot summer night when their children were asleep. "I mean...there's a family history of Lan men throwing it all away when their beloved dies, especially when there are an abundance of heirs and regents."
In addition to Lan Wangji thinking daily of just offing himself, Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng decided - fuck it - they were gonna storm the execution site and rescue Wei Wuxian because to hell with the rules. Attempt the impossible. Or whatever. Family motto. Detailed snippet here [snippet 8].
Thankfully, Nie Huaisang (with the help of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan and Xue Yang) managed to drag his injured partially recovered ass back to the capital at the metaphoric 11:59pm like a procrastinating college student submitting their assignmen, and saved Wei Wuxian's neck from the chopping block.
"We have less than hour before his execution, shouldn't we head to the arena?!" Song Lan called out over his shoulder as he violated several ancient fantasy china traffic laws while speeding down the street in his horse-drawn carriage.
"And say what?!" Exclaimed Nie Huaisang back in frustration. "We have no official decree, and I look like a stale shit shat by a constipated cow in my state. I need to see my brother, give the Emperor a usable reason to pardon Wei Wuxian, and a good enough lie for old man Lan to placate the court and their pesky ministers."
Nie Huaisang's sudden ressurection changed everything. While he could not claim that Wei Wuxian was their spy from the start, he did create a very believable and elaborate lie about how he was able to convince Wei Wuxian part way through the war to do act against Wen Ruohan for Gusu's benefit. Not because he loves Gusu oh no, but because despite Wei Wuxian's "loyalty" to Wen Ruohan, his heart lies with Lan Wangji. And while yes he had faced the prince on the battle field, had killed his men, and even injured the prince himself, he never wished for Lan Wangji to die. So when told about Lan Wangji's predictament in the snowy freezing hills of the Burial Mount, Wei Wuxian devised a plan to rescue Lan Wangji.
Nie Huaisang produced an eloquent and vague letter from Wen Qing, who had corresponded with since he learned of Wei Wuxian's impending death. In it, Wen Qing said nothing of Wei Wuxian's history as a spy, only that in the last moment when Wen Ruohan had trapped his entire court inside the palace, lured in Gusu's troops, and had every intention to light everyone aflame, it was Wei Wuxian who stopped him, saving everyone, and forgoing his chance to escape to freedom. This much, she can publically acknowledge without implicating herself or her father in any way.
And to Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang said, "Da'ge, if it weren't for Wei Wuxian sending Xue Yang to rescue me, I probably would've been tortured to death or worse at the hands of Xue Chonghai."
The public asked: if Wei Wuxian was not the hellish monster that they all believed to be, if his love for Hanguang-wang was true, then how come then he did not say anything to defend himself?
Because, replied Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian is a man who has a conscience, and he knows he's done wrong, and he believes he deserves to die. Such a man is rare in this world, and should be given a chance to do more, to atone with the rest of his life all that he'd taken away. The dead can never come back, and killing Wei Wuxian when there's so much he could do for the those left behind by the dead, would be a waste and a shame.
And so after many months, it was decided that Wei Wuxian would be exiled indefinitely to border city of Yiling - the neutral zone - to rebuild the community that his actions had destroyed. He was due to leave at the onset of winter.
In the meantime, Lan Wangji was officially installed as Crown Prince, his brother's legitimate heir, and Jiang Yanli as Crown Princess Consort.
Before Wei Wuxian began his exile, his family came to see him off. Detailed snippet here [snippet 9].
And immediately following snippet 9 ->
Lan Wangji arrived on horseback, his white winter cloak bellowing behind him as he charged towards the departure party. He must have come straight from the palace, for he was still in his stately court robes.
Wei Wuxian did not wish to stare, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. The last he'd seen of the man he loved was when he had driven him away, tears in his eyes, from his prison cell. The time before that was when Lan Wangji found him cradling Wen Ruohan's dead body at Nevernight and promptedly arrested him. And then time before that was when they had clashed swords in the snow and Wei Wuxian had inadvertidently killed Mo Xuyuan. And the time before that, was when Wei Wuxian had held Jiang Yanli and A-Yuan hostage trying to escape from Hanguang Manor, and then shot Lan Wangji with an arrow during the chase.
Wei Wuxian thought he would feel more upon this reunion, but all he felt was shame. He would hide himself in a hole in the ground if he could, except of course, this may in fact be the last time he'll ever see Lan Wangji ever again.
When the man in question reined his horse to a stop and hastly jumped off, Wei Wuxian found he suddenly could not raise his eyes off the ground, off the sight of his worrying fingers and the lingering dirt still trapped beneath his nails. At least he had bathed. Thank the gods that the administrators of his exile had allowed him to scrub himself clean of months of prison grime before his journey. As it was, he was in his least threadbare prison garb, and probably was not going to looked better than he did.
Lan Wangji advanced towards him without hesitance, and Wei Wuxian dreaded that he would embrace him, or kiss him, or anything that involved the physical touching of his skin against his own. Because - because -
There was no part of him that Wen Ruohan left unmarred.
So when Lan Wangji was all but a step away, Wei Wuxian tried to drop into a deep kneeling bow. "Taizi-dianxia -"
But Lan Wangji was one step ahead of him. Catching him at the elbow, he pulled him to his feet and gripped him in a crushing embrace. "Wei Ying."
Shaking despite himself, Wei Wuxian fought with the very last of his pride. "I am not Wei Ying."
Except he should've known he could never win against Lan Wangji's bullheadedness.
"You are."
"I am Qishan's Wei Wuxian."
"You are. You are Qishan's Wei Wuxian. And you are my Wei Ying."
Wei Wuxian would be embarrassed at how easily he gave in and all but crumbled into tears in Lan Wangji's arms, except he was literally about to be exiled for life, so he really didn't care.
"I'm sorry," said Wei Wuxian when he collected his breath and drew back to gaze upon Lan Wangji's face properly. "I'm so sorry."
And Lan Wangji did not implacate him with lies. "I know."
"I came to Gusu with the singular goal of infiltrating your court. I endeared myself to Jiang Fengmian to use his family for access. I followed Jiang Yanli to get close to you. I was tasked to seduce you."
"I know."
"I killed 37 men and women while living under your roof. I stole the defence plan of Yiling and countless other documents."
"I know."
"I killed Mo Xuanyu on the battlefield. I didn't mean to."
"I know."
"I...I laid with Wen Ruohan, after you. I never wanted to, but I never refused. I laid with him four hundred and seventy one times in the last two years." Wei Wuxian swallowed, his words becoming thick and dry in his mouth. "I laid with him even the night before I killed him."
Wei Wuxian held his breath. He kept his eyes lowered, too ashamed and afraid to look at Lan Wangji now, until he felt warm hands cradling his face, and a pair of warmer lips press into forehead.
"I know," said Lan Wangji quietly. "I've heard it all."
"I'd ask for your forgiveness, but I don't even know how to forgive myself."
"For what?"
"For...? For - "
"He had hurt you in the worst ways possible. I'd offer to kill him for you, but you've demonstrated that you're more than capable of avenging yourself."
Wei Wuxian can't believe Lan Wangj is making a joke, of all things, at a time like this. But it made him laugh, nonetheless. "I'm capable of so much more than you know."
"Oh I know. You were a formidable enemy, ruse or not. Perhaps one day you'll agree to a fair duel, mhm?"
"Perhaps. But what will the people say when their Taizi-dianxia lose to a lowly servant?"
Lan Wangji was quiet for a moment, his eyes turning serious, but gentle. Wei Wuxian had a split-moment premonition that whatever the prince planned to say would break his heart all over again.
"I already lost to you, Wei Ying."
"Lan..." Wei Wuxian struggled with a shuddering breath, Lan Wangji's name choking in his throat, his eyes flooding again with tears. He sniffled in the cold, and made an inelegant swipe at his snotty and drippy nose. "Lan Wangji, you bastard! Saying things like that - how am I supposed to go into exile in peace?!"
"If I could but keep you..."
"You can't, Lan Zhan. This is what I deserve. Putting aside sentiment, you have to see that this is fair."
Lan Wangji held his hands tightly, tears like crystals in his eyes. “Wei Ying, I’ll wait for you.”
But Wei Wuxian only shook his head. “Don’t. Time doesn’t stand still. Live your life Lan Zhan, and one day when I come back, you can fill me in on everything you have achieved. My Lan Zhan is the best. You will be a great taizi, and a great huangdi. And I will guard Yiling and its people for you, until the end of my days."
Overwhelmed, Lan Wangji pulled him in by the nape and kissed him squarely on the lips.
And even though they were about to part forever, for the first time in two awful years, for Wei Wuxian, it felt like coming home.
Eventually, the exile party had to depart. Jiang Cheng bear-hugged Wei Wuxian and threatened him with bodily harm if he was stupid enough to get himself killed in Yiling. "If you dare die on us, I'm going to hell to bring you back and kill you myself!" Jiang Yanli had many many reminders for Wei Wuxian to take care of himself, before handing him the bundle of things she'd packed for him. "Zhangjie, you know I have to carry this to Yiling myself." - "The guards can help you carry it if you get tired" - "Zhangjie, I'm being exiled, not going on vacation!" Two-year-old Lan Yuan was very confused by all the emotional adults, but was extremely cute when he hugged Wei Wuxian around the legs and obediently said, "Xian-diedie, goodbye", like his mother asked him to.
Wei Wuxian embarked on his journey with a care package from the Crown Princess Consort, and the Crown Prince's own winter cloak drapped around his shoulder. His family watched him go until they could no longer see him in the distance.
The End
Okay fine...some closing remarks, epilogue of sorts.
1. Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing:
Yu Ziyuan just about had a stroke when her son, the now very popular and in-demand bachelor Young Marshal Jiang Wanyin wrote to her that he had every intention of marrying Qishan's Grand Princess Wen Qing. And the very political but equally very love-driven marriage was underway when unexpectly Wen Qing's father the new emperor of Qishan had an ACTUAL stroke. He didn't die, but this bout of severe illness left him incapable of governing, and because Wen Ning was all but thirteen, the position of Regent naturally fell to his very capable older sister who was twenty-one and wise beyond her years. Jiang Cheng had his own very unironic "I'll wait you" moment with Wen Qing, and if Wei Wuxian knew about this he'd laugh.
They pushed their wedding back by 5 years, but just when Wen Ning came of age, he told his sister that he never wished to rule and would rather be a physician or a general or literally anything but a soverign. Wen Qing could not force her beloved brother onto the throne, so she became Empress and claimed all children of royal Wen blood eligible to inherit. The heir would be selected by merit alone, and she alone would name her heir when the time came.
Jiang Cheng eventually became Wen Qing's consort at the age of 44 when his eldest niece Lan Yiran, by special dispensation of her royal father His Majesty Hanguang-di, was named Marchioness of Yunmeng and commander of the Jiang Clan army in the southern border. She relinquishes her royal surname Lan and adopts her mother's maiden name Jiang. She reports to court every summer, but lives her days in her main helm of Yunmeng. Ouyang Zizhen, the lovesick son of Minister Ouyang, follows her there as a zhuixu(2) despite his clansmen's protest.
Note: zhuixu - is a man who marries into a woman's family, whose children will have his wife's last name instead of his own. Tend to be looked down upon in history.
2. Lan Wangji, Jiang Yanli & the Harem (Mianmian and Qin Su):
It was a sentiment shared amongst all of them that there wasn't enough daughters to spoil rotten. Kaisong, Jingyi and Sizhui (yes Lan Wangji is still that bitch who names his son to long and yearn for) were great kids, but they were dirty rowdy boys. And since Mianmian and Qin Su were very devoted to each other and living their best sapphic life, and since Jiang Yanli was in fact the legal wife, she and Lan Wangji decided to make a few more people. They were very lucky and got two daughters back to back: Yiran and Duanluo.
3. Lan Xichen, Meng Yao, and Nie Mingjue:
Lan Xichen ruled for another seven years after the war. Then one day he decided okay that's enough of that and abdicated the throne to his brother. Both Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue too left their status behind and the three of them fucked off to travel like retirees in a throuple. But don't worry, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng were more than experienced enough to fill in for the brains and brawns position of Lan Wangji's new court.
4. Xue Yang, Xiao Xingcheng, Song Lan ....And Wei Wuxian
Xue Yang, having been Wei Wuxian's shidi and friend most of their violent lives, just couldn't abandon his pathetic little meow meow shixiong to wither away in Yiling by himself. So he convinced Xiao Xingcheng that like...isn't a good taoist supposed to go and help the needy or whatever. The three of them eventually went to Yiling to see what they could do to help the wartorn city. What they found was that Wei Wuxian had already started the rebuilding effort. Yiling was far away from both Nevernight and Cloud Recesses, so Wei Wuxian's infamy wasn't as well known. But the fucking idiot announced on day one of his arrival who he was and confessed his 300 crimes. "I have no protest if the good people of Yiling find my crimes deserving of death. My life is yours to take. But, if you grant me the grace of mercy, I will use the remainder of my life to rebuild and serve this city. I am Yiling's servant, from this day till the last of my days."
And so little by little, Yiling recovered. Wei Wuxian wrote countless letters to local and provincial and imperial administrations asking for grants and funds (and books. What he didn't know, he learned, and read, and sought help from the locals). Thankfully, Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng took it upon themselves to make sure funds were provided. Neighbourhoods were rebuilt. The poor, wounded, widowed and orphaned were cared for. Wei Wuxian set up schools, re-developed farmlands, retrained the able-bodied to form the new defence system of the city. Slowly, businesses returned. Newcomers arrived seeking these opportunities. Babies were born. The sun rose and the sun fell, day after day, night after night.
Wei Wuxian had found a small abandoned residence when he first arrived, no more than a 600 square ft courtyard, barely enough to fit a donkey and a well. He lived there even after things got better, and never moved from this cramped little place.
Xue Yang, XXC and Song Lan came to visit every now and then, so he didn't get too lonely, but being nomadic, they never stayed too long. Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli wrote, as frequently as they could.
Every month or so, a letter would arrive from Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian would sit by the dim light of his oil lamp and bore over Lan Wangji's neat calligraphy. The next day, he would send off a letter of his own.
The years went on. A decade went by.
Entirely against his will, Wei Wuxian had somehow gained a new moniker: Yiling Laozu. He's not sure who started it, but the people of Yiling now would smile and kindly call him Yiling-jun, whenever they pass him on the street. His repentence and dedication had earned him their forgiveness, and over the course of 13 years, their respect. But the toil of his labour took a toll on his health, and at 35 years old, Wei Wuxian found himself at death's door yet again.
"If I didn't come to see you, were you really going to just roll over and die? Why didn't you say something in your last letter, fucking idiot!"
Wei Wuxian's fever addled brain could hardly process the blurry figure sitting at his bedside. "Jiang...Jiang Cheng?"
"Yeah, who else. You look like shit."
"...Thanks."
"Don't worry, you'll live. Qing'er sent her best physician."
"Qing...? Qishan's Empress? Damn, she hasn't dumped you?" Wei Wuxian chuckled despite the heavily in hs chest. Literally even breathing hurt. "Amazing."
"Shut up. When you stopped writing altogether, Lan Wangji nearly lost his goddamn mind. A-jie too was worried sick."
The emperor and empress had sent three consecutive royal missives, which were delayed by outrageous winter storms known to plague the borderlands. Jiang Cheng had found them unopened. Wei Wuxian had been too weak to do much else than lie in bed and wait to die by the time he'd arrived.
"Jiang-dage, Wei-gongzi should rest. There will be plenty of time to chat later." A kindly young man interrupted their banter as he entered the room with freshly brewed tonics. Wei Wuxian took in the sight of him and found him entirely too ...unintentionally posh to be just a physician.
"Thank you, A-Ning. Leave the tonic to me, I'll make sure he takes it. You go get some rest. The travel here was rough; if you fall ill your sister will declare war on my entire house."
"A-Ning" didn't argue, merely smiled and said he'll come back to reassess Wei Wuxian in a couple hours.
"...Was that?"
"Yeah." Jiang Cheng helped Wei Wuxian sit up, and handed him his medicine. "Drink up, get better, we'll return to the capital at the onset of spring."
"...We?"
Jiang Cheng gave him a crooked smirk. "You've been pardoned, you dumbass. The citizens of Yiling banded together and submitted a letter on your behalf to the imperial court, so moving it made even Old Man Lan shed a tear - okay, maybe not. Point is, the people gave Lan Wangji a reason to pardon you. Your exile is over."
