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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Same universe as the one where LXC kills JGY on a boat to not-Japan. JRS-centric as he grows up in the Nie clan and deals with his reputation as an inbred son of a traitorous bastard.

so I don't think I've ever written a fic in which LXC kills JGY on a boat, and definitely not one where JRS is a character? I mean, I've written a lot of fics, so possibly I did and I forgot, but I'm pretty sure about this one.

That being said, I don't think I've gotten any Jin Rusong prompts before so I'm reinterpreting this to be a prompt for a fic about JRS growing up in the Nie clan. Fic below!

ao3

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang reminded himself. Risk is proportionate with reward. Your spine should be made of steel, just as your saber is.

He licked his lips, thought of his brother who had loved him, and threw himself forward with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, gongzi!” he blubbered. “Can you help me? I’ve gotten completelylost, I don’t even know where to begin –”

Xue Yang blinked at him, the lids of his eyes moving slowly like a reptile.

“Maybe you know where my san-ge is? Lianfeng-zun?”

The feeling of immediate threat lessened. It seemed he’d gambled right, and the rabid dog that was Xue Yang could still be controlled by reference to Jin Guangyao.

“I’d really appreciate it if you could just give me some guidance on where to find him,” Nie Huaisang said, lowering his voice confidentially. “I’d be sure to pay you back! If there’s anything you want –”

“Do you have any snacks?” Xue Yang asked.

Nie Huaisang, who had come prepared based on the rumors he’d painstakingly collected, produced some dragons’ beard candy.

“Not bad,” Xue Yang said. “Okay, sure.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, and even meant it.

“Hey, good-for-nothing,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang turned to look at his least favorite but nevertheless highly useful source of information in Lanling Jin. The fact that Xue Yang had no idea that he was functioning as such just made it more satisfactory. “You like kids, right?”

Nie Huaisang blinked. “Yes?” he hazarded, not so much because he actually did – he’d never had strong feelings about children one way or the other, though perhaps he was being presumptuous in thinking that the reference did not involve goats – but because that seemed to be the answer Xue Yang was looking for.

Xue Yang wrinkled his nose in distaste, though not, Nie Huaisang thought, at him.

“Theoretically,” he said, and he wouldn’t know ‘theoretical’ if it hit him in the face, “if there were, I don’t know, a whole bunch of them hanging around somewhere without parents, you’d be able to do something about that, right? Especially if they had a talent for cultivation?”

It took only a moment to piece together what must have happened to lead to such a question, given the ruthlessness of the cultivation world and of Jin Guangyao in particular, and Nie Huaisang marveled briefly at the idea that Xue Yang might draw a moral line in the sand over something. Presumably he felt some kinship to the children, being similarly utterly infantile, amoral, and fond of sweet things.

“Oh sure!” he said, playing up the brainless idiot who didn’t know to ask questions. “My sect is always recruiting, you know. We took some losses in the war and, well, I feel like adult cultivators aren’t really all that interestedin joining ever since I took over…”

“Because you’re a waste of space,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang pouted at him. “Whatever, the important thing is that you have space for kids. Orphans. Think, like, a whole orphanage getting shut down or whatever – anyway, not important. You’d take them back to Qinghe, right?”

“Oh, that would be so wonderful!” Nie Huaisang clapped. “That would suit everyone, wouldn’t it? They don’t have to worry about the children, and we get new disciples. I should tell san-ge – no, on second thought, he might be too busy –”

“Definitely too busy,” Xue Yang said quickly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to accomplish something yourself? You could casually show him that your numbers went up at the end of the month instead so he gives you the credit, without explaining that it’s kids making up the increase.”

“That’s a great idea! He’ll be much more impressed by that, I should definitely do that. Where is the orphanage?”

“…uh, in the forest. The back forest.”

You couldn’t come up with a better lie?

“You already brought them here?” Nie Huaisang asked, batting his eyelashes. “You’re so nice, Xue-xiong! I’ll go tell my second in command to go deal with it right away!”

It was in the fifth round of kids getting picked up – small cultivation clans being massacred and there was nothing Nie Huaisang could do about it, because there was either no evidence or else Jin Guangyao had come up with some motive to justify his actions and, inevitably, Lan Xichen would be there behind him, soothing over tempers and providing explanations because he believed him, every time – that something unusual happened.

“Sect Leader Nie,” one of his most trusted subordinates murmured into his ear. “There’s a problem.”

Nie Huaisang found a reason to leave the party early, a reason to go to the rendezvous point, and, once there, found the reason for the problem.

“Oh, hey there,” he said with a smile fixed onto his face by sheer force of willpower, crouching down to make himself seem less intimidating. Not that he was ever particularly intimidating, though given the rage coursing through his veins right now, he thought he might be able to pull it off if he tried. “What a lucky chance! It’s so funny, finding you here, Songsong. How are you?”

Jin Rusong wiped his eyes and looked tearily at him, recognized that the person asking was his Little Uncle Nie, and threw himself into Nie Huaisang’s arms with a howl.

This was pretty typical – Jin Rusong wasn’t much of a crier, but when he did he definitely took Nie Huaisang as his model, something all the other adults in the cultivation world had a tendency to give Nie Huaisang dirty looks over.

The only problem here, of course, was that Jin Rusong was dead.

Or, rather…he was supposed to be dead.

And if Jin Rusong was here – here, in the rendezvous point where Xue Yang put those of his prospective victims that happened to be a little too young for even him to stomach killing, at least without the personal grudge that had driven him to slaughter the Chang clan in its entirety – that meant only one thing.

Jin Guangyao had ordered his own son to be murdered.

Through demonic cultivation, no less, which was a pretty nasty way to go. There was a reason everyone implicitly countenanced Jiang Cheng’s vendetta against demonic cultivators no matter where they were, even when he ignored all territory lines and forgot to not ask for permission – the things a demonic cultivator gone bad could do were just so much worse than what anyone else could that they couldn’t risk any delay in dealing with the problem.

Well, shit, Nie Huaisang thought, even as he comforted Jin Rusong, petting the toddler’s back to try to get him to calm down. What do I do now?

“There has to be a reason,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “He’s not rabid. Songsong was his son!”

“Sect Leader Nie, we can’t find anything that might explain it.”

“Look harder. I don’t care how minor it is, I want to know everythingto do with Songsong. Every little detail – every person who saw him – every medical report, every compliment, every good grade –”

“He placed last in one of his classes,” one of his spies volunteered.

“What?”

“He placed last in one of his classes. About two months before his ‘assassination’, and shortly before his father started collecting evidence against the other sects that were in his way, which he later used to ‘prove’ that they had been involved in the alleged murder.”

“He wouldn’t kill his son for failing a class,” one of the others objected. “The kid’s barely more than a baby. What’s he expecting, genius from birth?”

“He’s a genius himself. Why not?”

“If everyone inherited everything directly from their parents, he’d be a whore.”

“He’d be a Jin. They’ve all got that nose, every one of them…”

“I heard he’s having the other Jin bastards killed. All of them, even the women…”

Something snapped in Nie Huaisang’s hands.

They all turned to look at him.

“Investigate Qin Su,” he said, looking down at the mess of wood and paper that had once been a fan. “Come to think of it, she has a Jin nose, too.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want you to go, either,” Nie Huaisang said, feeling tired and also much more in sympathy with his poor older brother than he’d ever been while Nie Mingjue had been alive. “But you disobeyed me, and that means we don’t have a choice. You have to go.”

Nie Songsong looked down at the ground, his lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to…”

“You did,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to own your decisions, Songsong. You can’t take them back once they’re done, no matter what the consequences. Not even if you feel bad, but definitely not because you feel bad for having to pay for what you did.”

“But…”

“No, Songsong. You cannot be in the Unclean Realm when – when he’s here.”

Nie Songsong hung his head.

“He’s not your father anymore,” Nie Huaisang said. “You know that, right?”

Nie Songsong nodded.

Nie Huaisang sighed and held out his hands, and his arms were full of a teary-eyed child a moment later.

“He loved you once,” Nie Huaisang murmured into his child’s hair. “I love you now. I wish I could give you more than that – I wish I could give you an answer, tell you why he didn’t love you enough to keep from doing what he did. But I can’t. All I can do…”

Is what I’m already doing.

“You’re enough, er-ge,” Nie Songsong whispered back. “You’re enough. I promise.”

“When will I get to go night-hunting?”

“You go night-hunting all the time,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “You’re a fraction my age, and already my height, my weight, yet you wield a saber like my brother was around to raise you properly. You’re ruining my reputation, you know; now no one will believe that my incompetence comes from how short I am…”

“Not night-hunting with the rest of the sect, er-ge,” Nie Songsong said, rolling his eyes. “With other juniors!”

“Not long now,” Nie Huaisang said, looking down at the paper beneath his hands. It was all finally coming together. “Not long now. Just give er-ge a little more time to finish taking care of matters for da-ge, and you’ll be able to go night-hunting with anyone you like.”

“Er-ge! Are you all right? You look so pale…”

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “Songsong – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry –”

“What happened? Are you injured?” Nie Songsong demanded, already starting to pat him over, looking for wounds. “Er-ge, what’s wrong –”

“Your mother’s dead.”

Nie Songsong’s hands stilled.

“I told her about your heritage,” Nie Huaisang said, his lips numb. He’d never tried to hide it from Nie Songsong, although he’d introduced the subject very gradually and only once he thought that he’d be able to handle the revelation. “About your father – your grandfather. What they did. I wanted her to be angry at him, to turn against him, to distract him…instead, she killed herself.”

“Er-ge…”

“I shouldn’t have told her. If I knew –”

“Er-ge.”

“I should have brought her in earlier – told her about you surviving – I kept her from you for years –”

“Er-ge!”

Nie Huaisang looked at the child he had raised as a little brother the way his older brother had raised him, a father in everything but name, and who he had the constant feeling of having failed.

He wondered, as he always did, whether his brother had felt the same about him.

“Er-ge, it’s all right,” his little brother, his adopted son, said, and took his hands in his. “It’s all right. You tried, remember? Time after time, you tried to talk to her, but every single time you concluded that she would’ve told her husband instead of trusting you. She would’ve ruined everything. If she did that, I’d be dead all over again, and you with me.”

That had been what Nie Huaisang had concluded. That was why he’d never told her.

But…

“She’s your mother.”

“And you’re my er-ge. As long as you don’t die on me, too, it’ll be all right. Okay? It’ll be all right. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He’d already done so much, caused so much chaos and strife, and yet this moment – this was the step too far.

This was the first time he realized that he wasn’t sure he believed that it would be worth it anymore.

But by now…what else was left to do? There were no ways out of the plan he’d made himself; he’d designed it that way on purpose, because he’d known that if there was a way out, that snake would find a way to slither through it. He just hadn’t thought that he would be the one looking for it.

It didn’t matter.

He had to keep going.

His older brother deserved it, even if the younger one didn’t.

“I represent the Nie sect,” the young man – just about their age, though shorter than either of them – said with a smile. He seemed kind, gentle and polite, easy-going, but Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui looked at each other, and then at Jin Ling, who just scowled. “Can I come in?”

“Were you even invited?” Jin Ling asked in bitten off words. He was still bitter about some of the things that had happened in the Guayin Temple a month before, and of all them the one he was most bitter about was his second uncle’s retreat into seclusion – they were all upset about that.

“But it’s a discussion conference,” the young man said, blinking in confusion. “We’re a Great Sect. Why wouldn’t we be invited?”

In the face of such profound ignorance, there really wasn’t very much they could say, and eventually Lan Sizhui stepped forward with a smile, welcoming the young man – Nie Songsong, he introduced himself – into the Cloud Recesses.

Everything seemed fine for a little while. Lan Sizhui was able to talk to the people in charge of arranging juniors into finding another place for Nie Songsong to stay, although it would be a little delayed – Nie Songsong assured them that there was no issue – and as recompense they even showed him, at his request, a few of the main landmarks.

And then they turned around and their guest had disappeared.

“I knew he was up to no good!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Lan Sizhui told him.

“I’m with Jin Ling,” Lan Jingyi said. “He seemed so nice and understated – just like you know –”

“Don’t talk about my little uncle,” Jin Ling hissed at him. “I know it’s true, but just – don’t, okay?”

“We should find where he went,” Lan Sizhui decided.

It took them a while, but in the end they found him in the most unexpected place: in the rooms their sect leader had chosen for his seclusion, sitting on the bed with Lan Xichen’s head on his shoulder, sobbing as if his heart had been broken.

“What are you doing?” Lan Sizhui exclaimed, unnerved even out of his own habitual politeness.

“I came to greet my uncle,” Nie Songsong said, his manner just as gentle and polite as it had been from the beginning, although it was now evident that he was as stubborn as a rock and not easy-going at all.

“Your uncle?” Lan Jingyi gaped. “How can he be your uncle?”

“You’re Sect Leader Nie’s son!” Jin Ling accused.

“I’m Sect Leader Nie’s little brother by adoption,” Nie Songsong corrected. “It’s through my father that he’s my uncle – and you my cousin, I suppose.”

“Your – father?”

“Oh, yes. My birth name, you see,” Nie Songsong said, “was Jin Rusong.”

“Why did you choose to reveal yourself?” Lan Sizhui asked. “Given that everyone knows – well –”

Nie Songsong finished the character he was writing and put down his brush. “Wondering if you should let it be known that you were born with the surname Wen?”

Lan Sizhui jerked in surprise, then flushed. “How did you – that didn’t come out in Guanyin Temple.”

“No, I knew it before,” Nie Songsong said. “My er-ge is very clever, you know.”

“Yes, I suppose I do...why do you call him brother? Shouldn’t he be uncle, or – or –”

“Uncle is probably right,” Nie Songsong said. “But he raised me like a son, just as his brother did for him.”

Lan Sizhui looked down at his hands.

“Why did he publicly reveal your background, knowing that you were still around?” he asked again. “Everyone will know. Who your father was, all those terrible things he did, his relationship with your mother –”

“Why shouldn’t he? He did do all those things, and he did have that relationship with my mother.”

“But what about you? What about your reputation –”

“Are you planning on sweeping Wen Ruohan’s grave?”

Lan Sizhui stared at him.

“He’s your grandfather, isn’t he?” Nie Songsong looked calmly back at him. “Who he was, all those terrible things he did –”

“That’s nothing to do with me!”

“And the crimes of my father are nothing to do with me. My er-ge gave me his surname, just as Hanguang-jun gave you his, and for the same reason – to cut us off from the sins of our original family.”

“I suppose that’s true. But – no one knew about you, just as no one knew about me until I told them, and I only told them because they were my friends. Why’d you tell us? Aren’t you worried we’d tell more people?”

“Of course I am,” Nie Songsong said. “I hope you don’t, of course, but you would’ve found out regardless – second uncle wasn’t exactly subtle in his grief. And I had to tell him.”

“Why? To bring him out of seclusion?” Lan Sizhui hesitated. “Do you care so much for him?”

“Of course not. The last time I met him, I was a small child, and my father was just about to order me murdered; that’s not much of a basis to build a relationship. But having him lock himself away like that, as if he were in mourning…it hurt er-ge. And I won’t let anything hurt my er-ge. Anything, or anyone.”

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I understand,” Lan Sizhui said.

“I’m glad you do,” Nie Songsong said, and then smiled. “I would’ve had to escalate to threats next, and I’m given to understand that I’m too short to really pull them off properly.”

Lan Sizhui snorted. “I think we’ve all learned that that’snot true.”

“Should we talk about this?” Jin Ling asked, arms crossed over his chest and glaring.

“What do you want to talk about?” Nie Songsong replied.

“How about the fact that your father tried to kill me?”

“Sure. Can we talk about the fact that you got all of his affection for years and years after he tried to kill me?”

Jin Ling blanched.

“I wonder if he would’ve gotten me a dog, too,” Nie Songsong mused. “I was too young for that when he ordered his demonic cultivator to feed me to fierce corpses and have my body ravaged until it was barely recognizable…but sure, let’s talk about how he tried to kill you.”

“I was talking about Sect Leader Nie!”

“Well, then, you should have been more specific. Sect Leader Nie’s my brother, not my father.”

“He’s a whole generation older than you!”

“My little uncle, then.”

Jin Ling flinched. “That’s worse. Go back to calling him your brother.”

Nie Songsong shrugged. “Would it help if we fought?”

“…what?”

“It makes me feel better, sometimes. Besides, I may be short, but I’m pretty good with the saber. I bet I could match your sword…maybe not your arrows. But I’ve always wanted to try.”

Jin Ling looked at him suspiciously for a long moment.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Sure. Why not?”

“I really hate that you’re kind of cool,” Lan Jingyi told him.

“I am so cool,” Nie Songsong said, and passed him another jar of wine. “Want to see my spring book collection?”

“…yes please.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Lan Xichen said to Nie Huaisang, who shrugged. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me to help.”

“It’s only what I should have done,” Nie Huaisang said, not for the first time. He’d said it so often these past few days that it felt like a new refrain, an alternative to the old I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. He preferred the original. “I was his little uncle, remember? I held him on his first month party. How could I do any less?”

He did not say that Lan Xichen, who could be classified as Jin Rusong’s older uncle, had done much less, but from Lan Xichen’s expression, he’d taken it that way anyway.

“You never…” Lan Xichen hesitated. “Did you ever have any – concerns?”

“That he’d turn out an idiot? No. I figured he’d be in good company, with me.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, you meant whether I was worried that he’d grow up longing for his blood family over his adopted family and turn against me in favor of his real father?” Nie Huaisang asked mildly. “No, not really. The memory of your father ordering you to be mauled by fierce corpses and to make sure your face is destroyed so that there’s a reason to refuse to let your mother see the body, as it would only upset her, is a fairly effective panacea against things like that.”

“No,” Lan Xichen said, though he looked sick all over again at the reminder of how considerate Jin Guangyao could be when it came to those he thought of as people, and how monstrous he was towards those he didn’t. “No, just – your brother always took such a hard line against the Wen sect…”

“Because they were raised with the philosophy that they were superior to the rest of us and my brother purposefully made himself into the symbol of their fallibility, thereby making himself and all the rest of us the primary target for their traumatic realization that they’re just as weak and vulnerable as everyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Our Nie sect cultivators were always especially targeted whenever we were captured – our survival rate as prisoners of war was less than half all the other sects, and it wasn’t just because we were usually more injured when we got caught. Even the civilians surnamed Wen would pull out knives and try to stab us in the back if they had half a chance! We were in a blood feud with them, er-ge. You don’t put down blood feuds just like that, not even if you want to. That’s not how it works.”

Lan Xichen nodded slowly, thoughtful.

“Anyway, Songsong is mine now,” Nie Huaisang said. “Just as Lan Sizhui is your brother’s, and Jin Ling Jiang Cheng’s. Can’t we all just agree to not care about the rest?”

“I suppose we have to,” Lan Xichen said, bowing his head. “Huaisang…did you ever think about what happens now? I mean – what should we do next?”

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled humorlessly when Lan Xichen looked at him. “I’m not joking. I didn’t know what to do when I got Songsong for the first time, er-ge, and I don’t know what to do now, either. I just wanted to see justice done for my da-ge, and I did, and for the rest – I don’t know.”

“That’s fine,” Lan Xichen said. “I don’t know, either.”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang thought. Spine as steel as your saber.

“Would you like to come visit the Unclean Realm sometime?” he asked, pretending to be casual. “Perhaps we can figure out what we don’t know together. If you like.”

“…perhaps I will,” Lan Xichen said.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #xue yang #lan xichen #jin rusong #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #my fic #my fics #nothing ventured nothing gained

264 notes · View notes

stiltonbasket · 3 years

Note

Nielan fathers day prompt! Sorry if its late, but how about finding out they're going to be parents on Fathers Day? (mpreg, adoption, surrogacy, your choice).

anon: the first fathers' day after jingyi is born, modern lxc and nmj both set up a present for each other "from Jingyi." It's very cute. Baby Jingyi magnanimously chews on his foot and accepts giving two presents and meals.

this is for the art thief au, so lxc is trans here!

(ao3 link)

----

What should I give Xichen for Father’s day?

Nie Mingjue has been puzzling over gift ideas for the past two weeks, with no luck whatsoever. Jingyi is still too small to make them gifts, so he and Xichen use the occasion to exchange presents with each other and label them with their little boy’s name; Xichen probably picked out his gifts already, since he knows Nie Mingjue’s tastes like the back of his hand, but Mingjue keeps flipping through mail-order catalogues and crossing off their entire inventory as he goes.

“I have present,” Jingyi insists, as Nie Mingjue carries him down yet another aisle of their local department store. “A-Die, look!”

Mingjue looks. A-Yi is holding a six-pack of orange bath sponges, since Xichen mentioned that they needed some more earlier that morning.

“That’s not a Father’s Day gift, A-Bao,” Mingjue chides, kissing Jingyi’s forehead. “Last year, I gave your Ba a brooch with his initials on it, remember? It has to be pretty.”

Jingyi wrinkles his tiny nose. “Starfish?”

“Mm, the starfish brooch.” Lan Xichen has an impressive collection of jewelry, with most of it coming from gifts Nie Mingjue gave him over the course of their fifteen years together; and nearly all of the pieces are sea-themed to go with his husband’s wardrobe and his clear, moon-white skin.

Perhaps he could buy pearls, this time?

“A-Yi,” he says slowly, “what do you think about going to the discount shop across town?”

A-Yi is happy enough to go wherever his father goes, so Nie Mingjue drives to the discount store--full of discarded, overstocked, and secondhand merchandise from all over the city--and digs through the bins of jewelry until he finds an antique bracelet, strung with pearls carved into the shapes of starfish and clam shells. Jingyi nearly loses his little mind at the sight of it, and he squeals at the top of his lungs while Mingjue pays for the bracelet and bundles him back to the car.

“I know them,” he declares, when Mingjue gives him the bracelet to play with on the way home. “Diedie, it’s a clam!”

Mingjue glances up at his son’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Can you count how many clams there are?”

Jingyi flings himself headlong into the task, counting twelve starfish and eleven clams, and then he peruses the Learning Reader books Xichen keeps in the back seat until Mingjue carries him into the house.

His husband runs to meet them at the door, and it is this, not the driveway or their well-worn doorstep, that means Nie Mingjue has finally come home.

______

To Nie Mingjue, stepping into his woodworking studio feels like stepping into another world.

It isn't that the studio looks very different from the rest of the house--in fact, Nie Mingjue had a tiny nursery built into the north corner, since he set the studio up with A-Yi’s needs in mind--but Mingjue feels different here, more sure of himself, and aware of his own thoughts and hopes as he scarcely is anywhere else. He had only to enter, and he was changed: his hands steadier, his heartbeat slower, and his mind somewhere distant and immediate all at once. It is here that he pays homage to his heart, his muse, and the dearest friend he has ever had, or ever will. It is here that he pours pieces of his love for his husband into everything he touches, and everything he makes, and emerges with pieces of polished art like testaments to the husband he vowed his life to.

“That isn’t a metaphor,” Nie Mingjue said once, when Huaisang asked what he meant. Mingjue has carved everything from furniture to lamps into shapes reminiscent of his husband’s lips, perfected the stems of wooden sunflowers to match the sweet arch of Lan Xichen’s neck, and burnished every last one of his creations until they shone like sunlight falling on the apples of his husband’s cheeks. He etches A-Huan’s expressions into the faces of statues intended for the foyers of upscale hotels, and into a thousand quarter and sixth-scale figures commissioned by model collectors, since he rarely has any excuse to sculpt his husband directly. But today he does, so he sits down at his bench and gets to work with a block of oak and his favorite gouge and chisel.

He will love this, Nie Mingjue thinks, as two bowed heads and a pair of smiles take shape under his hands. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever made.

He glances over his shoulder at Jingyi, fast asleep in the glass-walled nursery with his feet up in the air, and turns back to the sculpture with his heart quivering in his chest.

______

The sculpture takes about a fortnight to complete, almost exactly the span of time between the day Nie Mingjue begins working on it and the holiday it was intended for. Nie Mingjue wakes up early on Father’s day, leaving Xichen asleep behind him, and bundles A-Yi out of bed and down into the studio. They wrap the sculpture up together in Jingyi’s favorite gift wrap, and then Nie Mingjue carries him to the kitchen just in time to catch his husband as he comes stumbling down the stairs.

“Good morning, love” Lan Xichen sighs, burrowing into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “What should we have for breakfast?”

“Eggs?”

For some reason, Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“Noodles, then?”

This suggestion is met by a drowsy nod, so Mingjue goes to the fridge to dig out a few ingredients while Lan Xichen hops onto one of the bar stools with Jingyi in his lap. He chops the scallions and garlic for plain noodle soup around their son’s little body, leaving Mingjue to boil noodles in one pot and stock with soy sauce and sugar in another until three blue bowls of yang chun mian are steaming on the counter.

“Smells yummy,” Jingyi yawns, while Xichen spoons fresh green onions into his soup bowl. “Baba, feed A-Yi?”

“He’s forgotten about the presents,” Lan Xichen mouths, as Nie Mingjue tries not to snicker. They eat quickly, slurping down the noodle soup with cups of soy milk on the side, and then Jingyi scrambles to the other side of the room before running back with Mingjue’s wrapped box in his arms.

“Father’s Day gift!” he squeaks, wriggling like a happy worm as Xichen laughs and tries to remove the gift wrap without tearing it; because Jingyi never lets either of them cover gifts with anything but Pingu penguin-printed paper, and he cries if anyone rips it up in front of him.

Mingjue used the weakest tape he could find, so that Xichen could extract the box with the paper left mostly whole. He hands the paper to Jingyi, watching as his husband’s slender fingers close around the base of the sculpture, and then--

“Oh!” Lan Xichen gasps, pulling it all the way out into the light. “A-Jue, I--”

The sculpture depicts him and Jingyi at the beach near their house--in fact, at the same beach where Mingjue and Xichen first met. Mingjue was sitting on a sandy rock, catching his breath after running around behind a hyperactive Nie Huaisang all day, and then he looked out over the foggy water and saw what looked like a water spirit drifting out of the darkness in a rowboat.

He sculpted Xichen seated on that very rock, with his long hair tangling in an invisible gale, and a little heap of shells (the pearls from the old bracelet he found at the discount store) piled up in his lap. Jingyi is standing on the ground at his feet with a wave of seafoam brushing his ankles; and in his hands is a small pearly starfish, offered up to his baba as Lan Huan leans forward to cup A-Yi’s cheek in his palm. Both father and son are smiling, with heart-breaking happiness in A-Huan’s eyes, and sheer pleasure at finding the starfish in Jingyi’s.

Nie Mingjue looks up at his own flesh-and-blood husband, tearing his eyes away from the wooden figure, and finds Lan Xichen sitting there, frozen, with tears rolling down his face as he traces the tiny ridges and dimples of stone and sand and water.

“It’s beautiful,” he chokes, rounding the corner of the table to throw his arms around Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “It’s the most precious thing you’ve ever made, sweetheart.”

“The most precious thing I helped make is over there,” Nie Mingjue teases, tilting his head at A-Yi. “But I think this one comes pretty close.”

Xichen opens his mouth, and then closes it again; but Jingyi interrupts before he can say anything else, impatient to present his diedie’s gift from his baba.

“Now this one!” he shouts, diving into Xichen’s pocket for a small present in a wooden box, labeled with Jingyi’s name just like Nie Mingjue’s gift was. He all but shoves it into Mingjue’s hands, leaping up and down on the spot while he snaps the lid open--and then he screeches with delight as Nie Mingjue goes crashing to the floor, staring at the contents of the tiny box until his eyes blur over.

He had expected some kind of memento or trinket, like he usually gives to Xichen. But the box was so light, impossibly light--and it holds a pair of hand-knitted baby socks, set neatly on top of a black and white photograph with his husband’s name printed in the upper left corner.

Nie Mingjue has already been a father, already accompanied his husband through the endless doctors’ visits and checkups that came before Jingyi was born. He saved all of Jingyi’s ultrasound pictures, even the ones where A-Yi looked like a chubby white bean on the sonogram, and he stared at every photograph for so long that reading them comes as second nature to him.

"A-Huan,” he says, after a long pause. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming this.”

“You’re not,” Lan Xichen laughs, wiping Mingjue’s face. “I had my first doctor’s visit last week when you and A-Sang took Jingyi to the park. And the clinic ran a few blood tests just in case, so I already know it’s going to be a girl.”

“And you’re okay? Both of you?”

“Very okay, darling. I haven’t even had any morning sickness yet, and the baby’s perfectly healthy.”

Nie Mingjue only cries harder, at that; but Xichen is crying too, clasped in his arms while A-Yi climbs all over them, so perhaps it doesn’t really matter.

All in all, this is the sweetest father’s day he has ever had.

#nielan #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #nie mingjue #lan xichen #lan jingyi #art thief au #my fic #AH this was a long one

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Photo

Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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sincerelystranger · 4 years

Text

Author: LXC thirsting after NMJ while they’re students together. Inspired by the fact that one of the Gusu rules is that you’re only allowed to eat 3 bowls of rice per meal? I just felt like NMJ is a very big boy and he’d probably need a little more than that.

---

Nie Mingjue is tall, and broad, and handsome. He’s strong enough to wield his huge saber in one hand, he eats all three allotted bowls of rice at every meal, and Lan Xichen can’t stop noticing him.

Nie-gongzi is the only non-Lan Sect student this year at Cloud Recesses, and he – he’s perfect. He never dozes off, he always listens intently, and the only thing he seems to have any interest in other than eating, is practicing his saber. Uncle is in love with him and Lan Xichen just can’t stop noticing him.

“Lan-gongzi!” Nie-gongzi calls, stopping Lan Xichen as he’s walking towards the dining hall. Nie-gongzi has his saber in his hand, and strands of hair are sticking to his sweat-damp forehead, and he’s backlit by the setting sun, and he looks… magnificent. Something about it makes Lan Xichen’s palms tingle. “Are you headed to the dining hall?” Nie-gongzi asks, putting his saber away.

“Yes,” Lan Xichen nods, trying not to stare too intently at the bead of sweat that’s making its way down Nie-gongzi’s neck.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Nie-gongzi asks seriously. He’s always serious – always. It scares a lot of the other students, but Lan Xichen can’t help but find it kind of… charming.

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Lan Xichen smiles.

They walk together to the dining hall, Lan Xichen trying valiantly not to be too aware of their closeness – of the heat that Nie-gongzi is radiating. They’re just two students walking to the dining hall, he tells himself. Two normal students. Yep.

“Are you enjoying your studies at Cloud Recesses?” Lan Xichen asks, attempting normal, polite conversation.

“Yes,” Nie-gongzi nods, “Everything is a little more… flowery than I am used to, but my father speaks very highly of your uncle and his teaching abilities, so I’m trying to learn the best I can.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen smiles, “My uncle speaks very highly of you as well. I’m sure your father will receive a good report from him.”

“Good reports on everything except my calligraphy, I assume,” Nie-gongzi replies, “But I’ve never had a talent for the arts, so I’m sure that will be no surprise to my father.”

Lan Xichen wants to tell him that the way he wields his saber is so beautiful that it takes Lan Xichen’s breath away. Wants to tell him that he’s never seen anything more artistic than the way Nie-gongzi walks – his back straight, his strides long and purposeful. Wants to tell him that his heart stops every time Nie-gongzi walks towards him.

But that sound a bit… much… even in his own head. So instead, he says, “I’ve seen your calligraphy, I’m sure your marks will be adequate.”

Nie-gongzi laughs at that, throwing his head back in mirth.

His neck is thick and corded, his brows stay furrowed even in laughter, and Lan Xichen can’t take his eyes off of him.

“Adequate, you say, Lan-gongzi,” Nie-gongzi chuckles, “I may not have an eye for the arts, but even I know that your calligraphy is perfect. My own chicken scratch must be far from adequate in the eyes of the grandmaster who is used to reading your perfect writing.”

Lan Xichen can feel his ears redden at Nie-gongzi’s words. “You’re too complimentary of my skills, Nie-gongzi,” he says, his face tilted towards the ground.

A heavy hand pats him on his shoulder, shocking him out of his embarrassment. “I’m not one for false modesty or empty praise, Lan-gongzi,” Nie-gongzi says, and there’s something warm in his voice, “but thank you for your words of consolation.” He takes his hand off of Lan Xichen’s shoulder, and his shoulder burns where Nie-gongzi’s hand had been.

Lan Xichen feels a bit chided then – a bit chided and a little bit found out.

They enter the dining hall together and take their seats. Lan Xichen sits next to Nie-gongzi and watches him clean his table… again… and again. Nie-gongzi finishes all three allotted bowls before Lan Xichen can finish his one.

Watching Nie-gongzi eat tickles something in Lan Xichen’s brain. It makes him wonder if even three bowls are enough. Nie-gongzi is… large, and he practices his saber so often. He must be… hungry.

He quickly finishes his food and walks quickly to catch up to Nie-gongzi. “Nie-gongzi,” he says, definitely not out of breath because he definitely did not run.

Nie-gongzi turns towards him, and suddenly Lan Xichen feels embarrassed to even ask.

“Yes, Lan-gongzi?” Nie-gongzi asks after a beat of silence.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen coughs, “I was… just wondering if you found the food in Cloud Recesses acceptable.”

Nie-gongzi’s brows furrow even deeper at Lan Xichen’s question. “I’m not a picky eater,” he says slowly, “but it is a wonder how the Gusu Lan Sect produces so many great cultivators on such little food.”

Aha, Lan Xichen thinks to himself. He knew it! Even three bowls was too little for Nie-gongzi.

“After indoctrination is over, you should come to Qinghe,” Nie-gongzi continues, “I’ll feed you more meat than you’ve ever eaten in your life – none of this rabbit food.”

Lan Xichen feels a zing of pleasure go through him at Nie-gongzi’s invitation. “I hear Qinghe is famous for their boar dishes,” he says quietly, trying not to sound too pleased.

“Yes, our boar is quite good,” Nie-gongzi says, almost whistfully, “I caught the largest boar last season. If you come visit us, I promise you I’ll catch an even larger one.”

There is no pride in his voice, Lan Xichen realizes. Nie-gongzi isn’t bragging, isn’t giving out a false promise. He will catch the largest boar for Lan Xichen – it’s a fact. It hits Lan Xichen like an arrow to the heart. It makes his palms tingle hot and cold. He wants to touch. He feels greedy all of a sudden, desire like he’s never felt pooling in the bottom of his stomach.

“I will look forward to it,” Lan Xichen says with a calm he doesn’t feel. Look at me, he thinks desperately, wanting those serious eyes on him for some reason. Look at me. Look at me.

Nie-gongzi looks down at him and Lan Xichen’s breath stops in his throat.

“Good,” Nie-gongzi says easily, ignorant of the effect he’s having on Lan Xichen. “Now, if you do not have any other questions for me, I will take my leave first. I want to get in a little more practice before bed.”

“Of course,” Lan Xichen breathes out, bowing.

He watches Nie-gongzi leave towards the practice field. Watches the swing of his hair, the broadness of his shoulders, the length of his steps.

He feels unmoored.

He’s never felt like this before.

He stands there stupidly for a little while longer, staring towards where Nie-gongzi disappeared off to. The sun is already set. He should really go back to his room and meditate a little while before washing up and going to bed. Maybe even visit Wangji. Maybe practice his calligraphy a little more so it stays perfect in the eyes of Nie-gongzi.

That’s what he should do…

But before he knows it, he’s in Caiyi buying a dozen meat buns.

He holds them close to his chest as he runs back up to Cloud Recesses. It’s quite difficult, trying to keep an even stride so the buns aren’t damaged and also trying to run fast enough so that he can get back into Cloud Recesses in time.

He catches Nie-gongzi as he’s walking out of the practice field.

“Nie-gongzi!” he calls out – his voice definitely too loud. He’d be in trouble if uncle heard.

Nie-gongzi almost seems startled to see him. “Lan-gongzi,” he bows, “did you forget something?”

Lan Xichen basically throws the parcel of meat buns at Nie-gongzi. “No,” he says, shaking his head. Embarrassment threatens to devour him whole. “For you… Meat buns…” he says intelligently.

Nie-gongzi looks down at the parcel in his hands and opens it. He looks back at Lan Xichen in surprise. “You got these for me?” he asks, his brows rising from their furrow just a tiny bit. He looks so endearing then that Lan Xichen’s heart threatens to burst.

“Yes,” he nods, willing his cheeks not to burn. “I will speak to uncle about allowing you increased portions at meal times – I know you must have been hungry all this while.” He bows then and turns to leave, embarrassment making him unable to meet Nie-gongzi’s eyes.

A heavy hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

Lan Xichen turns in surprise. Nie-gongzi takes his hand and drags him away. Lan Xichen is too shocked by Nie-gongzi holding his hand in his that he doesn’t realize where he’s been dragged off to until he’s already sat next to Nie-gongzi in a dark corner next to the equipment shack.

“Here,” Nie-gongzi says, handing Lan Xichen a meat bun. Nie-gongzi takes one out for himself and stuffs half of it in one go. Lan Xichen watches him chew, mesmerized by the way the oil in the bun makes Nie-gongzi’s lips shine, and takes a careful bite of the meat bun in his hand. It’s still warm – thank god – and it’s good. He hopes Nie-gongzi thinks it’s good as well.

“Is it to your liking, Nie-gongzi?” he asks, trying not to stare too blatantly.

“Hmn,” Nie-gongzi nods, grabbing another meat bun from the parcel. “Feels like it’s been forever since I last had some meat. Thank you for this, Lan-gongzi.”

“No need for thanks,” Lan Xichen says, watching how the meat buns disappear in Nie-gongzi’s mouth like magic. Nie-gongzi looks the happiest he’s ever seen him. All that running and embarrassment was worth it to see this face.

Nie-gongzi gives Lan Xichen a wry smile. “Was my hunger obvious?” he asks.

“No, not at all,” Lan Xichen answers, “It’s just… you eat all three bowls of rice at every meal… and well, you’re the largest disciple at Cloud Recesses… I just… assumed.”

Nie-gongzi laughs at that. Throws his head back again, let’s Lan Xichen see that long neck stretch. Mortifyingly, Lan Xichen wants to know what Nie-gongzi’s neck tastes like. Wants to lick a line from his collar bone to his jaw.

“You assumed correct,” Nie-gongzi says, smiling at him. Lan Xichen’s heart is beating faster than it was after the run up to Cloud Recesses. Nie-gongzi reaches out and pats Lan Xichen on the head. “You’re very observant, Lan-gongzi. Very observant and very kind.”

Don’t pat my head, Lan Xichen wants to tell him. Don’t treat me like a little brother. I didn’t do this to be kind.

“When you come to Qinghe, you’ll meet my little brother. He’s observant too, and kind,” Nie-gongzi says, taking out another meat bun. Nie-gongzi will probably finish the other eleven meat buns before Lan Xichen finishes his one.

“How old is your little brother?” Lan Xichen asks. Actually, he doesn’t want to be compared to Nie-gongzi’s little brother. Everyone else always says that Lan Xichen seems so grown up – why is Nie-gongzi treating him like he’s a child?

“He’s 6,” Nie-gongzi answers, polishing off another meat bun.

“My little brother is 7,” Lan Xichen says. This is probably the longest conversation he’s ever had with Nie-gongzi. He finds that he likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way his mouth moves as he speaks. He doesn’t like being compared to a 6-year-old, but he’ll take whatever he can if he can listen to Nie-gongzi speak a little longer. “Your little brother might already be bigger than Wangji, though, if he is like you.”

“No, no,” Nie-gongzi says, shaking his head, “Huisang is very different from me. He’ll probably be smaller than even my father. But I’m sure his calligraphy will be better than mine.” There’s something fond about the way Nie-gongzi speaks about his brother. Lan Xichen can tell that he loves his little brother very much. He can understand that, he thinks, thinking of Wangji.

There was something undeniably cute about little brothers.

Does Nie-gongzi think Lan Xichen is cute, he wonders?

Nie-gongzi finishes the rest of the meat buns and waits for Lan Xichen to finish his. It is torture to try to eat normally with Nie-gongzi’s eyes on him. Suddenly the act of chewing even seems unnatural. Lan Xichen is hyper aware of his every movement. Of his proximity to Nie-gongzi.

“You won’t get in trouble for this, will you?” Nie-gongzi asks worriedly, smashing the empty parcel easily between his hands.

“No,” Lan Xichen lies (how many rules has he broken so far?). “But if it’s alright with you, could I walk you back to your quarters, Nie-gongzi?” He doesn’t want any of the disciples on watch to give Nie-gongzi any trouble. They’ll most likely, steer clear if they see Lan Xichen with him.

Nie-gongzi’s brows furrow as if they find Lan Xichen’s request strange, but he nods, “that’s fine with me.”

They walk together, Lan Xichen trying not to be too aware of the heat that radiates off of Nie-gongzi. He bows his goodbye when they reach Nie-gongzi’s quarters.

Nie-gongzi bows back and pats Lan Xichen on the shoulder as he straightens. “Thank you again for your care, Lan-gongzi,” Nie-gongzi says, gifting Lan Xichen with another small smile.

“It’s my pleasure,” Lan Xichen says honestly – probably too honestly.

Lan Xichen almost skips back to his room. His uncle will be upset with him, he’s sure. He’s missed bedtime by at least half an hour now, but he can’t find it in himself to regret anything. He’d run to Caiyi every night if he could have this secret meeting with Nie-gongzi.

10 years later, when he watches Wangji break the rules for the first time – fighting with other disciples, purchasing liquor, missing bedtime – he’s reminded of himself from 10 years ago. Wanting and confused and unable to help himself. The anger is new, though. Wangji is angry for some reason...

He hopes Wei-gongzi will treat Wangji as kindly as da-gei treated Lan Xichen.

10 years later, Nie-gongzi is now da-ge, but he’s still tall, and broad, and handsome, and Lan Xichen still can’t stop noticing him.

#the untamed #mdzs #nielan #nie mingjue #lan xichen #my fic

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crossdressingdeath · 3 years

Note

Every so often I’ll come across a fic that has a summary that essentially reads: “after JFM brings WWX to Lotus Pier YZY takes JC to MeishanYu where he becomes the sect heir” and it always acts like this situation is a fix-it for the entire plot of the novel. And I was thinking about this premise over the past few days and realising just how little it makes sense. (I would like to clarify that I have not read any of the fics with this premise but that is because they all look to be written by JC stans and I decided a while ago that I wasn’t interested in anything like that. I would also like to say that I have only the vaguest understanding of Chinese culture so if something is glaring wrong in here I accept corrections.)

So. The logistics of the events coming to pass. The summaries imply that YZY left Lotus Pier with JC in tow, marched into her natal sect and without question JC was named sect heir and never had any problems ever.

Firstly: if YZY is such an amazing mother to take her son away from the ‘awful’ environment of Lotus Pier under JFM, why does she leave her daughter there? There never seems to be any mention of JYL also going to Meishan so this really just feels like YZY doesn’t actually care about anyone other than JC (in a similar way to the author not caring about anyone other than JC).

Secondly: the actual inheritance thing. As far as I can tell YZY and therefore JC are so far down the line of inheritance for the MeishanYu sect that it doesn’t actually matter. JFM calls YZY ‘Third Lady’ which based on my understanding means that she has two older sisters who would be the First and Second Ladies. In the line of succession her eldest sister would be first, then her children, then her second sister, that sister’s children, and then YZY and JC behind them (this isn’t even taking into account any older brothers she might have). I think I read somewhere that marriage order is based at least partially on age so we can assume that the two older sisters got married before YZY, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that the eldest child of the eldest daughter could be fifteen when JC is nine, so at the very least the eldest sister could have a child who is close to being of age (though I freely admit that I have little idea as to what is classed as ‘of age’ within this world) while the son YZY brings is a child who throws a tantrum over having his pets sent away for someone else’s mental health and being told he’s going to share a room.

(Sidenote: I know JFM has JC’s dogs sent away but for all we know they’re just taken out of Lotus Pier itself (as in the bit where the cultivators live). We know there’s a market area where non-cultivators live literally right outside so rather than sending three puppies miles away to other cities, couldn’t JFM have just found someone living outside of the cultivator’s part of Lotus Pier to give the dogs to? Wouldn’t that have been the easiest option? And one that could potentially allow JC to visit the dogs he was so upset about? Did he just not ask to see them so JFM decided that he didn’t actually care about them? Did JC go see them every week until they died and was just angry that he wasn’t allowed to own them anymore? What proof do we have that JC never saw those dogs ever again?)

Anyway, back on track. Thirdly: YZY married out of the MeishanYu sect and into the YunmengJiang sect. She was very insistent on this. She wanted this a great deal even though we know that JFM didn’t particularly want to marry her. I believe that by the culture of the time marrying out of a family meant you were no longer part of that family. Like you might visit or write and introduce your children to them but you weren’t part of the family in the sense that you weren’t in the line of inheritance for anything of that family. So YZY marching into her natal sect with her bratty son behind her, declaring that he would be the sect heir to MeishanYu honestly reads to me as YZY flat out not understanding anything about how family inheritance works. She married into YunmengJiang. By the rules of the time, she should be devoted to building up the YunmengJiang sect, not leaving and returning to her natal sect because she doesn’t like the mother of the child her husband brought in off the streets. JC especially isn’t in line for inheriting MeishanYu because he is a member of the Jiang clan. Honestly the best equivalent I can think of is if people expected Jin Ling, heir (and sect leader and the end of the novel) to LanlingJin to also take over the running of YunmengJiang even though nowhere is it implied that he’s in any way in line of that — JYL married out, any children of hers were part of the Jin clan with no inheritance in the Jiang clan (it’s also for this reason that I am firmly of the belief that Jin Ling was mostly raised at Koi Tower rather than Lotus Pier, who lets the heir to a sect be entirely raised by another sect? For all we know Jin Ling spends a couple of months a year with JC and the novel just happened to take place during those months, and it’s saying something if Jin Ling spends the entire time he has per year with JC running away on night hunts without JC there). So, to put a long point short: YZY married out of the MeishanYu sect and has literally no inheritance there and neither do her children.

Also, at this point hasn’t she essentially kidnapped the heir to YunmengJiang? I doubt JFM is going to say “oh you don’t like my best friends’ son so you want to take our son away. Of course you can do that I have no problem at all with losing my sect heir due to your petty dislike of someone who has been dead for years now. Goodbye.” JFM may not really stand up to YZY, but there’s some things even he isn’t going to tolerate from her. So YZY is causing a political disaster between her natal sect and the sect she married into by kidnapping the sect heir of one and attempting to make him the sect heir of the other. At the very least I feel like JFM could divorce her on the grounds of kidnapping his son and trying to depose the sect heir of her natal sect in favour of a child who by law cannot inherit that sect.

From what I can tell these fics look like they’re set up to be fix-its. Again, I haven’t read them, but I can feel just by reading the summaries and glancing over the tags that they’re intended to be stories about how without the father who ‘hates him so much’ and ‘that awful WWX who always held him back from his true potential’ that JC is so much happier and more skilled and also absolutely going to be the best person in their generation at everything and in at least one of these it looks like he ends up marrying LXC (which is just. No). Honestly it could be a fix-it for JYL and WWX who would no longer be being berated for their general existence (WWX) and hobbies (JYL, specifically how she likes to cook). Them growing up without YZY constantly breathing down their necks and having better mental health as a consequence? Yes please.

Honestly I wouldn’t mind seeing something where the concept was written by someone who didn’t think that ‘actually all the positive traits of other characters are JC’s character traits and also JC should have been the main character’. Something where it’s set up as YZY taking JC with her to Meishan, expecting everything to obviously work out the way she wants, only to be shot down. Her eldest sister is potentially sect leader if their parents have stepped down and has a fifteen-year-old child who everyone in the sect is pleased with as their sect heir. YZY and her expectations get shot down, it’s made clear that she and JC aren’t even in the line of succession since they’re officially part of YunmengJiang and not MeishanYu, and she’s told to leave. She returns to Lotus Pier, angry but still convinced everything there will go her way because JFM has never stood up to her before, only to get back and find JFM in the process of organising their divorce. This isn’t an internal matter due to her not doing the duties expected of the mistress of Lotus Pier anymore, this is a political matter where she kidnapped the sect heir and tried to depose the sect heir of MeishanYu. She’s legally part of YunmengJiang, her actions reflect on the sect as a whole and could be taken as hostile intent. Really the only way to keep this from potentially escalating is to divorce her so that everyone knows her actions aren’t condoned by JFM individually and YunmengJiang as a whole. The end result is that instead of JC somehow fixing everything as a result of having less political influence/lower status than before (sect heir of MeishanYu which is a minor sect compared to the sect heir of YunmengJiang which is a great sect) and without an extremely loyal WWX supporting him, YZY instead undergoes some consequences for once in her life and the family dynamic of the Jiangs + WWX might even manage to be healthier without her constantly being around to antagonise everyone.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure YZY’s children would be so far down the line of succession that they’d have to murder a bunch of people to stand a chance of ruling Meishan, and her taking JC, the heir to the Jiang sect, to another sect without his father’s permission and with the intention of deposing the rightful heir of that sect would be... just a bit of a problem, yeah. Also like. I suspect the reason YZY doesn’t canonically do that is because not even she is that stupid. That goes beyond being a bitch and straight into Actual Crimes. Also love the idea that JC, the most useless of all the great sect leaders, would be less useless in a position of infinitely less power. ...To be fair he would certainly do a lot less damage.

#lotus mom #grapehate #anon #asks

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untamedunrestrained · 3 years

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Moral of the Story

I was scrolling through the WangXian tag on Tumblr when I came across a post that I eventually scrolled past but it seems to have planted a germ of an idea that I just can’t shake loose and I tried and I tried and then I procrastinated some more for good measure but it didn’t work. So, here I am trying to present my thoughts with some degree of coherency.

The post that was the impetus for this post, talks about LWJ’s punishment after the events at Nightless City just before WWX’s death. That post raises the question of how LWJ could forgive his uncle and brother for a punishment that would have killed a lesser cultivator.

The moment I read the post I disagreed with it but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why but since I have been thinking about it for the past few days, I now know exactly why I disagreed with the post in the first place.

Before we proceed, I would like to make it clear that while what I’m about to say tracks across every canon of MDZS, I’m going to pick the details from the novel verse because it’s more detailed with regards to this particular aspect of the story, and also if you have only watched The Untamed/CQL and not read the novel (albeit only in its translated form) it might be easier to fall into the type of thinking that lead to the previous post in the first place.

Ideally, I should just link to the original post but since I found the post while I was scrolling through Tumblr’s tag for WangXian and initially tried to ignore it completely because I didn’t quite understand why that particular idea was troubling me, I don’t think it would be easy to find it again and since I’m disagreeing with the post I don’t want the author of the post to find this because even when we try to be rational our first response to being disagreed with is hurt or anger and I don’t want anyone to feel that way. These are just my thoughts and you might agree or disagree with them but I feel like I should put them out there since the idea will not leave me alone.

So, let’s get into it.

LWJ is given thirty-three discipline whips for each of the thirty-three GusuLan elders he gravely injured to protect WWX.

When WWX sees LWJ scars in the novel these are his thoughts-

Usually, with only one or two strikes of the discipline whip, it would already be enough of a punishment for the bearer to remember it for their whole life, never to make the same mistake ever again. The amount of scars on this person’s back accumulated thirty at the least. Just what sort of monstrous crime did he commit for him to be whipped so many times? If it really was a monstrous crime, why didn’t they kill him?

As we will later learn LWJ’s punishment is a little more detailed than just whipping he was also made to kneel in front of the “Wall of Discipline” following the whipping.

It’s a barbaric punishment and of course, the ones ordering it are his uncle and his brother who have both been established as characters who truly do love LWJ. So, why? Why is LWJ’s punishment so severe, well there are two reasons for that and I will discuss the lamer one first.

His punishment was severe because by this point we know that LWJ is probably one of the best cultivators of his generation if not the best (I could definitely argue for the latter, I mean this guy can fight Xue Yang wielding his sword with one hand and keep an entire horde of zombies at bay while playing his guqin with the other. And, did I mention this is happening at the same time, he literally managed to fight a horde of zombies and Xue Yang with two different cultivation methods being practised simultaneously and of course, he won but not only that there wasn’t a moment during this entire fight when that wasn’t the expected outcome). So, of course, if you want to really punish this guy the punishment has to be on par with his own physical and spiritual strength, it wouldn’t be much of a punishment he was able to do it without even breaking a sweat. I told you it was a bit lame.

Secondly and more importantly, the punishment should fit the crime. If the crime is particularly grievous, the punishment must be as well, it must be severe and in this particular story, depending on the individual’s spiritual strength a severe enough punishment might be different for different levels of cultivation. So, the real question is did LWJ deserve the punishment and the answer is an unequivocal YES.

LWJ grievously injured thirty-three GusuLan elders who were looking for him specifically so that they could find him before the other clans did because if the other clans did find him first they would kill him. After all, he saved WWX and kept him alive. The same WWX who at the Nightless City declared war on the combined might of the Cultivation World and then proceeded to kill thousands of Cultivators and then when they died he resurrected them to fight their very own comrades, that WWX.

Now, we might all argue he only fought the Cultivators because they killed all the Wen remnants and that only happened because he killed Jin ZiXuan who he technically didn’t kill but he definitely provided the opportunity and the weapon for his death because his ego couldn’t let Jin ZiXun go. At this point, we don’t know that there is another player in the mix but both these fights that ultimately take the lives of Jin ZiXuan and Jiang Yanli respectively were both started by WWX and even if we forget about the inciting event (Jin ZiXuan’s death), WWX still killed thousands of people from all clans. But, we only know these intricacies because the story is told from WWX’s perspective. LWJ doesn’t know this and neither do most of the people in the Cultivation World.

What they do know is that LWJ took WWX after he had killed thousands of cultivators and depleted the remaining Cultivators of their spiritual energy so thoroughly it took them three months to recover enough to mount a second attack. No matter how you spin it WWX is responsible for those deaths and LWJ is responsible for saving an outright murderer and then he further cemented his crimes by fighting thirty-three of his own elders and grievously injuring them in defence of said murderer when it seems like they largely made the journey to protect LWJ's life and his reputation and not with the primary purpose of killing WWX.

So, yes he deserves his punishment and as he himself believes this -

But he (LWJ) said… that he could not say with certainty whether what you (WWX) did was right or wrong, but no matter what, he was willing to be responsible for all of the consequences alongside you.

The reason LWJ could forgive LXC and LQR for his punishment is because he didn’t need to. He understood exactly why he was being punished. At the end of the day, LWJ didn’t actually protect WWX thinking that he might be right, he protected WWX because he was intensely and irrevocably in love with him and he is ready to stand by his love right or wrong.

While these are all very valid points the real reason that post caused this disquiet to appear in me was because it was trying to paint LXC and LQR’s actions in a bad light with the power of hindsight completely forgetting that their actions were relevant in the context they happened in which brought me spiralling back to the story as a whole.

The story firmly tries to tell you that what you see and what you observe might paint a very clear narrative in your eyes but there is always a possibility that the narrative we feel is so immutable can completely change its structure if we were just able to see it in a different light as is beautifully illuminated by this story.

The other thing that we don’t realise is that in this story we aren’t depicted by LWJ or WWX or JC or JL or LSZ or even NHS and JGY for the matter. We are the mob, we are Sect Leader Yao, we are the people who are told stories that paint people in a certain light and then we can’t see them in any other light. In our very upbringing, some prejudices are a staple and we still harbour them and these influence how we interact with the world and more specifically how we judge people and their actions. This story urges us to remember that while things might seem black and white maybe unearthing the reasons behind them might make the story more grey, so the next time you decide to paint a group of people or even a particular person as wholly bad no matter how egregious their actions may seem remember the moral of Mo Dao Zu Shi, remember that there might be more to the story than meets the eye and more importantly remember that something in the future might make a success of today look like a blight on history.

If I have to be more precise, I would say the moral of this story is to be open to the possibility that we might not know the whole story and we might be wrong even when we are a 100% convinced we aren’t.

#mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan xichen #lan qiren #wangxian #myposts

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drwcn · 4 years

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discordance!verse part 3: The affair came to light. Wei Wuxian took the whip. But words got out. All is not quiet in Lotus Pier.

in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair.

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis]

Because someone asked:

^ Sorry anon, not exactly what you were asking for. :) But you asked for Jiang Yanli, and I delivered.

Jiang Yanli was sweating by the time her boat from Lanling finally docked at the pier. In the back of her mind was the constant nagging agitation of being away from Jin Ling, but Zixuan had reassured her that he would clear his agenda for the day and stay with their son diligently. The animosity and tension that simmered beneath the surface of Jinlintai’s false tranquility could erupt...any day. Like arrows on a bow pulled taut, they were all waiting for the release.

At time like this, Jiang Yanli did not think she would have to worry about yet another disaster, but here she was, rushing to her maiden home bearing the most heinous of rumours.

Jiang Yanli’s frown darkened, remembering the smugness on Jin Zixun’s face that morning in the peony garden. The derogatory remarks had almost been enough to make her hurl up her breakfast.

Is this the teachings of Yunmeng? I would have expected better from Lotus Pier, but then again, that ill-bred tramp have always been this way. It wouldn’t even be surprising had his target not been Lan Wangji. Righteous holier-than-thou Lan Wangji. Only goes to show you can never really know a person, isn’t that right, dear cousin?

Jiang Yanli stormed through the front gates, a torrent of gold silk and coral chiffon. Not waiting for disciples to announce her, she aimed straight for the main hall.

“A-die, a-niang!”

Her heart was in her throat. Oh, but she could already imagine her mother’s face. This could end badly in so many ways. If there was any truth to these rumours...she did not know how Gusu Lan dealt with such an infraction, but the Violet Spider would demonstrate to the world exactly why she was dubbed thusly. The stain upon Yunmeng and Lotus Pier, upon the Jiang family - there was not a doubt in Jiang Yanli’s mind that her mother would take it all out on Wei Wuxian.

Impossible. Simply impossible. It can’t be true. A-Xian would never. He would never -

Except maybe it was all true. It could be... because - because she herself had seen it, just weeks ago, at Jinlintai, at A-Ling’s one-month celebration -

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, look, look how chubby he is, isn’t my nephew the cutest?”

“Mn. Very cute.”

It should’ve been an innocent enough exchange, and it would’ve been, had she not seen the hand Lan Wangji laid against the small of A-Xian’s back as he leaned over his shoulder to peer down at the baby. Jiang Yanli, who had looked away briefly to instruct the wet-nurse to fetch a soother for A-Ling, had turned around to witness the hand caress her brother low along his spine, close to his tail bone.

Heavens above, what if it’s true...

She was shocked to say the least. That should’ve been an inappropriate action for anyone who wasn’t Lan Xichen, and even if it were Lan Xichen, the placement of that hand was dangerously bordering on indecent! Though the garden at the time contained no one but them three and baby Rulan basking in their loving attention, they were still very much out in the open public. Any disciple or banquet guest could have come strolling through and seen!

She had expected A-Xian to jerk, to flinch, to moved away and be offended by such a liberal gesture of familiarity and affection, but her brother didn’t move an inch. Instead, he turned and flashed Lan Wangji a smile that was as warm and bright as the morning sun. Graced with the potency of A-Xian’s joy, Lan Wangji’s whole countenance softened, from his eyes to his lips which curled ever so slightly at the corner into a gentle smile of his own.

Yanli had told herself that it was nothing, that she was over thinking it, that it was a good thing that A-Xian was able to befriend the unapproachable Hanguang-jun. But now...

No... oh A-Xian, didi, what have you done...

“Da-xiao’jie!” the maid exclaimed and curtsied to her as Jiang Yanli approached the doorway of the empty main hall. “Thank goodness you are here! Zong’zhu, fu’ren and shao’ye are all in an uproar!” [ Da-xiao’jie - first young mistress, it’s a spoken honorific similarly used as ‘your ladyship’]

So words have reached Lotus Pier too...

Damage control, what she needed to do was damage control. She could do this. She was not Jin-shao-fu’ren, the future Lady of Lanling, for nothing.

Jiang Yanli spun on her. “My parents, where are they?!”

“In the Master’s study!”

She followed the maid as they wound through Lotus Pier’s many boardwalk aisles and water gardens. Without realizing, the two of them quickened their pace to a trot then to a run when they heard Yu Ziyuan’s voice echoing from the distance.

“A-die, a-niang!” Jiang Yanli charged into her father’s study, interrupting her mother mid-tirade. “Something must be done about these abominable rumours circulating -”

Yanli froze, one feet still on the other side of the threshold. The heart that had been skipping in her throat dropped instantly, free falling into the deepest, darkest pit of her gut where her suspicions hid all along.

Jiang Fengmian sat in his front of his work table, hunched over, his whole weight supported by the hand spanning his forehead. In his other hand was several sheets of paper - letters or missives by the look of it, Gusu Lan’s ink emblem just visible underneath his thumb.

Jiang Yanli had never seen her father so utterly defeated.

Between her parents was her little brother, clearly in the middle of trying to calm down their mother, but was equally red in the face, and practically bristling like an enraged kitten.

Upon her arrival, three pairs of eyes flicked simultaneously to the door.

“A-Li.” The fury that seemed to evaporate from Madam Yu’s every pore tempered fractionally at the sight of her daughter. “What brings you home?”

“What brings me -” Jiang Yanli gaped, glancing from her mother to her father to her brother. “The rumours about A-Xian -”

Incensed instantly, Yu Ziyuan exclaimed, “How did you find out?!”

Once, such a display would’ve cowed her without fail, but Jiang Yanli was no longer a child of timid disposition. Living in a pit of snakes had toughened her against all manners of the world’s assault.

“I overheard my maids gossiping amongst themselves this morning. A-Xuan heard it from his cousins. I dare say even His Excellency and pomu would’ve heard of it by now.” [pomu 婆母 - husband’s mother]

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips, feeling a sudden sense of unease over top the preexisting anxiety. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

Jiang Fengmian sighed, holding out the letter towards his children as if its mere existence appalled him. “A letter from Elders of Gusu Lan arrived this morning.”

Jiang Cheng took the sheets from their father, hesitating when Yanli strode up to him. “A-jie...”

In the background, Madam Yu paced the length of her husband’s study, cursing under her breath.

"Thank goodness you have married and married well, A-Li,” She said. “Or else this boy's philandering ways would have ruined your prospects. As it is, A-Cheng -"

Swirling on his mother in an uncharacteristically brisk manner, Jiang Wangyin interjected loudly, "I don't care about prospects, a-niang! They had him whipped! Three hundred and one disciplinary lashes! How is he now? Is he even even - even alive?! Gusu Lan doesn’t tell us anything -"

“What?!” Jiang Yanli yanked the letter from Jiang Cheng’s hand, eyes darting back and forth as she bored over its contents. A moment later, she lowered it slowly, looking up at her brother whose distress mirrored her own, and then at their parents whose distress were for different reasons entirely, reasons she understood but could not empathize at all.

The world suddenly felt enormous, cold, and without air. Jiang Yanli stumbled back half a step, as imagined scenes of A-Xian being pinned down and tortured flashed before her eyes.

“A-jie!” Jiang Cheng lunged forward and caught her by the elbow.

Jiang Yanli trembled, with fury or fear she could not discern. “How could they do such a thing to him? Three hundred lashes...What about Lan-er-gongzi? What punishment did he receive?!"

Rising from his seat, their father sighed deeply, folding his hands behind him. “Unfortunately, the fault lies with us.”

Nothing then. Typical.

Jiang Cheng made a frustrated noise. “Us?! How could the fault be with us?! That's bullshit!”

But Madam Yu, for once, agreed with her husband. “We all know that Wei Wuxian is a notorious flirt. It's hardly surprising that something like that would -”

“A-niang that isn't true!” Both Jiang children exclaimed at the same time.

“But A-Xian and Hanguang-jun were caught in the act,” Their father admonished them, displeased with their tone. “There were multiple eye witnesses.”

Eye witnesses. Jiang Yanli could only imagine what that meant. Surely they were not found in...in bed together. Multiple eye witnesses, no surely not. It couldn’t be as bad as that. At best, at best... at best it was something akin to what she’d seen. A misplaced hand, a misconstrued embrace... a kiss -

No, no, even that would be too much.

“...rolling around in the grass like a heathen, taking Hanguang-jun down with him -”

Jiang Yanli’s head snapped up at her mother’s vivid description of the event. Her words echoed what she had heard in Lanling from the maids and disciples and Zixuan’s cousins. That A-Xian and Lan Wangji were found lying together in the grass, with her brother sitting astride the Second Jade, bent over, exchanging more than just whispers.

A-Xian, A-Xian how am I supposed to help you now...what can I do now?

Tears dissolved her vision into fractals of colours and light. She turned away from her family as the first of them began to fall. Mother never liked her tears, and Father never knew what to do with them.

Her brother A-Cheng, however, could not be stopped once he got started, and whatever ignited him before Jiang Yanli arrived had clearly sparked a wild fire that burned through the last of Jiang Wanyin’s patience with this family.

"Rolling around in the grass?! Then it must be Lan Wangji's fault! You've all mistaken Wei Wuxian. Yes he's loud and obnoxious and chatty, but that's it! If people mistaken him for a scoundrel, it's only because he's friendly and talkative and doesn't have a filter half the time.”

Jiang Cheng took a breath, shifting his glance from his mother to his father, who stared at him with something akin to shock and an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“I know him, a-die, a-niang.” Jiang Cheng continued, quieter. “Wei Wuxian, he's - he's - he was a virgin before he married.” A heated blush bloomed across his cheeks, but he pushed through the embarrassment. “A-Xian was a huge virgin! He's never even held hands with anyone!"

Exasperated, Yu Ziyuan rolled her eyes at her son, as if his arguments were nothing but the antics of a naive child. "Son, you can't know that -"

"I do know that because I know him!" Jiang Cheng protested fiercely, both red in the face and around his eyes now. He was close to tears too.

"And that Lan Wangji,” he spat with obvious disdain, “Cloud Recesses' disciples are all scared of him. Everyone knows he is cold and disagreeable! If you don't believe me, ask Jin Zixuan! A-jie, you were at Cloud Recesses too with us, is that not what the females disciples say? That he never smiles, never talks, never mingles with anyone! Gusu Lan wants to feed us the tale that Wei Wuxian, within a span of a year, went from completely inexperienced to seducing the most unsociable man of our generation?! I refuse to believe it! Who's to say A-Xian is at fault? Who's to say Lan Wangji isn't a....a... secret sex fiend!"

Jiang Cheng’s outcry silenced the whole room. Jiang Yanli felt a bubble of hysteria rising in her chest. Things were starting to spin out of control.

“Jiang Cheng!” Jiang Fengmian scolded. “You watch your language in front your elders, and you sister.”

At that, Jiang Yanli whipped her sleeve back in annoyance, raising her voice for the first time since this whole ordeal began, “Oh please a-die, I have a baby son!”

A-Xian’s life and future hung in the balance and language was where he drew the line? Not the three hundred or so lashes?!

Dropping the letter onto the table, she took a deep breath and gathered herself. Now was no time to let her emotions get the best of her.

“When did they say the incident was?” She asked.

“Two days ago,” replied her father.

Two days ago and already most of Jinlintai is well versed in the details of the scandal? Jiang Yanli believed in the power of gossip to spread like an infection, but even so, the speed at which this specific piece of information disseminated struck her as particularly malignant.

Gusu Lan would’ve wanted to contain it. To save face but also to not push Yunmeng Jiang to the brink. This is an alliance after all. Marriage is one thing, but the stability of our sects is another all together.

But the containment clearly didn’t turn out as intended. Whatever machination was behind this, the proverbial cat was out of the bag and there was no reversing its effects. Had it been simple a family matter, Jiang Yanli would not doubt her parents’ ability to wrangle some kind of compromise from the onerous traditionalists whom Cloud Recesses revered as their Elders.

和离 heli - an amicable separation. That was the best course of action, to save face and to preserve the peace between their clans.

But with rumours festering in every corner of their realm, passed from mouth to ear and mouth to ear again, embellished and dramatized along the way, it was not feasible anymore to settle this under the table.

More than just the relationship between three individuals, the reputation and dignity of two major clans rested on the line.

As a married woman in this world, Jiang Yanli knew as much as her mother knew, as much as any women knew, that this line was more often than not painted with blood.

“Did Gusu Lan voice any demands from us?”

“Not as of yet,” Jiang Fengmian replied. “Though, they invited your mother and I to Cloud Recesses in a week’s time to discuss what to do be done. They did not say in as many words, but we must prepare ourselves for the possibility that they intend to ‘xiu’fu’.”

Yanli gasped, “They want to ‘xiu’ A-Xian?” For something that was at best only half his fault?

‘xiu’fu’ was not just a divorce. It was a condemnation, like discarding a pair of used old shoes, dregs to be tossed out. It was the fate of almost every woman found guilty of betraying her marriage bed, and some for reasons even less than that. The unfortunates who were ‘xiu’-ed by their husbands could never wash themselves clean of the stain upon their persons. They lived a ruined life, a half-life plagued by gossips and scorn, not...that they lived all that long in the end.

A-Xian may not be a woman, but theirs was a gendered society, and his marrying out of Yunmeng Jiang and into Gusu Lan had fixed his position in a lower stratum. Because of this, his outcome would not be much better.

The horrifying truth was, Jiang Yanli could not dispute that Gusu Lan Sect and Lan Xichen were well within their rights to do whatever they damn well pleased.

Except they cannot deny that Lan Wangji is just as culpable. That is the only card we have left to play...

While she struggled internally with the fine minutiae of social niceties, her brother Jiang Cheng’s thoughts were going down an entirely different path.

“Why is it that none of you are indignant?!” He stomped his feet, fist clenched and shaking. “Have you for one second even considered that maybe Wei Wuxian wasn’t even a willing participant? That Lan Wangji had - had forced himself on - on...” A-Cheng trailed off, the end of that sentence too gruesome to complete. His meaning, however, was lost on no one.

Jiang Yanli sighed, touched by the extent of A-Cheng’s concern. Though perhaps in this one instance, he really did overreach. Not that this wouldn’t be a possibility of course, and had the accused been her and not A-Xian, and the man been - hm say Jin Zixun- and not Lan Wangji, then what he suggested would be at the forefront of their parents’ suspicions. Except Wei Wuxian was not Jiang Yanli. Zewu-jun did not marry him solely for his pretty face. By all standards, he was a proficient cultivator, even more powerful now that he’s matured and come into his own. That anyone could wrangled him on his back for that kind of purpose was indeed not very likely, and besides -

“Lan Zhan, would you like to hold him? Hold Rulan?”

“Mn? Looks heavy.”

“Lan Zhan!”

No, decided Jiang Yanli, her brother’s laughter still echoing in her memory. It was far more plausible that this love affair was more love than affair, which was why the wound it would inevitably leave behind for both A-Xian and Lan Wangji would be that much harder to heal.

She turned her attention back to Jiang Cheng, who had picked up on his tirade again and ploughed forth uninhibited.

“Look at you both. Look at this family, if it even is that at all! Wei Wuxian is at Cloud Recesses right now, suffering, and none of you even care! You only care about what this will do to Lotus Pier's image. A-die, you claim to love him, doted on him his whole life, but where are you now that he needs you?! A-niang, Cangse Sanren is dead. She did not raise him, you did! And even if he is Father’s son, so what, so what?! Has he not done everything you ever asked him? Has he not made Lotus Pier proud? Do you even know how many bastards Jin Guangshan has floating around unclaimed?! Yunmeng only has one Wei Wuxian, and blood or not, I only have one brother!"

Jiang Cheng broke off abruptly, face wet with tears. He made a rough swipe at them with his sleeves, but spoke no more. Jiang Yanli wasn’t sure if it was because his audacity had shocked even himself or if he had realized that any more unfiltered outbursts and Madam Yu really would let him have a taste of Zidian’s sting.

Knowing he had unloaded a lot of bold words that were the epitome of impertinent behaviour, and not wishing to stick around to find out their consequences, Jiang Cheng grabbed Sandu and spun on his heels.

Purple electricity zipped through the air as the whip tail clacked against the door frame, jolting him sideways.

“Where do you think you’re going boy? Stop at once!"

"I'm going to Cloud Recesses and getting my brother back! If Gusu Lan doesn't want him, then I will not leave him there to be abused! He deserves to come home, and to hell with them!"

“A-Cheng, A-Cheng, didi, wait, wait!” Jiang Yanli rushed to his side, stopping him in his track. “Impulsivity solves nothing. We cannot rush this. A-die, a-niang, A-Cheng has obviously had quite a shock, as we all have. He isn’t himself; please forgive him for his earlier rudeness. I’ll take him out to the river to cool off. Come, A-Cheng, come along.”

Begrudgingly, Jiang Cheng allowed himself to be dragged away by his sister.

“Not a word from you until we’re out of earshot,” she whispered to him.

Wilting, he obeyed.

Jiang Yanli kept a tight grip on this brother of hers. She knew she had to think of a solution quickly and carefully. If not, then by the week’s end, A-Cheng could very well be the only brother she had left.

[part 4]

#cql #the untamed #wangxian technically #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #yunmeng jiang #jiang wanyin #jiang fengmian #yu ziyuan #madam yu #discordance #discau #corie fics

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years

Text

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 19/?

Wedding Planner AU [xicheng edition]: “Chickens on the Loose”

[let me have this]

Jiang Cheng doesn’t believe in love and that’s precisely the reason why he plans other people’s special day. The most extravagant, the boldest, the loudest, the better. Because if there’s something he got to accept over the years is that people aren’t willing to pay for something realistic, but for something unattainable instead. Over-compensating bland, ordinary reality with fantasy and dreams is his job and he’s well aware that no one can compete with his genius. Not with his father owning a catering and food chain company. Not with his mother being the most sought out wedding gown fashion designer on the market. They taught him everything there is to know on how to make other people’s dream come true before the inevitable envelope of a dainty, innocuous divorce application can make its way in a once happy household. Better make the satisfaction last, because Jiang Cheng will only accept advanced payments in cash, no monthly installments allowed.

His sister YanLi may have married honoring tradition over useless exaggeration, but what did her love bring aside from suffering and neglect? Marrying into the richest family in the country to the heir of a textile empire has given her nothing but sorrow and a husband too proud and distant to even visit her regularly. Jin Ling growing up without a father, spoiled rotten by the wrong side of the family who lured him into their shining world of nothingness day after day. At least Jiang Cheng’s family did rise from nothing and learned to trick the rich into relying on useless services soon enough. But Jin ZiXuan and his family had never worked once in their life and didn’t know how to take care of their loved ones. Not that Jiang Cheng’s parents could do any better, their marriage a wasteland where no love could grow, but at least they were honest about it. Better enjoy a dream while it lasts.

That is why if even Wei Ying’s marriage were to turn out to utter shit like YanLi’s, at least it will not be Jiang Cheng’s fault. Everything needs to be perfect, from the vows to the tea ceremony, from the food to the color scheme, from the seat arrangements to the music. Hell, some of his stepbrother’s requests may be too much to handle for most, but not for Jiang Cheng and if Wei Ying wants a parade and a whole week worth of celebrations, Wei Ying will have exactly that.

Hence he will not, under any circumstance, allow anyone snooping around as he plans the wedding of the century. No, not even the fiancée’s overprotective older brother asking people for blackmailing material on Wei Ying behind Jiang Cheng’s back. Not even if he pays him in nature, no ma’am.

... . ... . ... . ...

Lan Huan is the best divorce attorney in town precisely because he believes in unconditional love. That’s why he doesn’t see the point of two people (or three people, on one memorable case in Europe) spending the rest of their life together if change is inevitable and something to be expected. He would much prefer to get the best deal out of it for his clients and prevent children to suffer from it in the process.

Judges fear him and his diplomatic smile that can never hide his tunnel vision drive for victory. His trusty private investigator Nie HuaiSang is equally terrified by his assets, but still feeds him with the juiciest details whenever Lan Huan asks for favors, discreetly requesting the younger man to do background checks on this or that subject. Settlements may be nice, but not if the (soon to be ex) husband or wife in question can be easily found guilty of adultery, gaslighting, or even violence. Not on Lan Huan’s watch.

That’s why his world gets completely turned over the moment his younger brother Lan Zhan announces his intention to marry a man he hasn’t known for a full three months yet. Truth to be told, Lan Huan had never seen him this happy: glowing with something akin to adoration, affection dripping from every pore, love spilling all over just by mentioning one name, Wei Ying. In case this rascal happens to crush his precious baby brother’s heart, Lan Huan needs to find dirt on this man and squeeze everything he has out of his dead cold hands the second his brother files a request for a divorce.

But for some reason Nie HuaiSang cannot seem to be found for the job this time around. Not unlike most of his other contacts and informants, who have seemingly disappeared at the mention of his brother’s fiancee’s name. If this Wei Ying is such a big fish in the sea to make even Lan Huan’s most loyal colleagues dissolve into thin air, then he must find the answers by himself.

And if it means to bomb the wedding preparations to get shit done, oh he will. He’s not above flirting to get what he wants, but if this Wei Ying turns out to be a good person in the end... well. Lan Huan prays things won’t get too messy to proceed with the celebrations in the end. Hopefully, that is.

[fun stuff under the cut.]

NHS went to uni with Wei Ying and he knows LXC won’t find anything on him bc WWX himself is a blackmail master and will 100% diss you in front of your children calling you out on your deepest secrets so no. NHS will not mess with that and he urges to do as much to all LXC’s informants and sources.

JC looks scary but his staff loves how dedicated he is and they make bets on when he’s going to lose it and sleep with someone out of frustration. although they think he gets more turned on by going over every point in his check-lists at times...

LXC’s colleague always ask him if he’s dating anyone, clearly to set him up with someone (who will not be of LXC’s liking, he’s sure). to which he answers by smiling and lying saying he has a terrible personality. since nobody believes him, he asked his friend Meng Yao to make a scene at the firm once: (all too pleased to mess with his bestie’s reputation) Meng Yao murder-walked into the office and demanded to meet LXC, only to cry in front of everyone and smack him across the face for cheating on him. THEN his sister A-Su made her sudden appearance and smacked LXC’s other cheek lamenting the same, ridiculous thing. the two siblings gaped in fake horror at each other before spitting on LXC and storming off of the building.

NMJ laughed his ass off for weeks after the sharade. he started dating A-Su not long after (with both JGY and LXC’s blessings) bc he was mildly impressed by her willingness to jump on the opportunity to make a fool of both LXC and her brother at once. LXC thinks they are a good match, but he worries A-Su might be too tiny and full of undiluted mischief for NMJ to be able to handle her antics.

NMJ used to date LXC, but they were too driven and competitive to let their relationship get in the way and in the end they stopped seeing each other. they still care deeply for one another, but they love their jobs at the firm too much and making things messy at the office wasn’t worth it. A-Su knows about it and doesn’t feel left out because of it, glad that they settled into their respective lives while still being loyal friends to each other.

JGY tries to set LXC up with a new woman every week, saying he would benefit from having a cute wife taking care of him. but LXC doesn’t know what business JGY has to talk about women that way when Meng Yao’s been a raging homosexual since the first time he has landed his eyes on another boy in kindergarten. too many crushes on boys to even be aware of how many hearts he has broken in his life. all those pretty girls falling for his looks, poor kids. only JGY’s younger brother Mo XuanYu could rival his victim count, but barely so.

ZiXuan is secretly keeping an eye on his half-brothers and half-sister while he works as a representative for his family company and this is mainly the reason why he has distanced himself from YanLi and Jin Ling in these past few years. he would like to approach his three half-siblings and maybe have a chance to rekindle lost relationships, but by stressing over it he is losing sight of the found family he actually has. YanLi wants him to come around, eventually, but she knows how lonely ZiXuan has been with no siblings and how secretly jealous he is of the bond that she has with her family. so she won’t pressure her husband, but she feels lonely nonetheless.

the two wangxian lovebirds are too happy to notice the mess LXC is making and they don’t even realize he’s there until like, three days before the actual wedding.

LXC may be a shark but he’s not subtle. JC doesn’t know what he does for a living but he assumes he has too much time on his hands, hence not someone worthy of his time. but LXC always causes troubles on the venue or messes up with the flower arrangements or prods for information to the wrong people and JC is over it.

“if you don’t have anything better to do help me find the sommelier so I can ask him what’s wrong with him and if he studied anything at all” or “if you have so much time to waste be useful and learn how to make flower crowns for the children to play with” or “if you can sit on your ass all day at least look over my nephew while I go look for someone to emotionally bully to let off some steam.”

Jin Ling is five and even more bossy than his uncle and orders LXC around to be his pony when JC should babysit him at work. LXC discovers the boy is JGY and A-Su and Mo XuanYu’s nephew and that JC doesn’t what any of them to interact with Jin Ling. but LXC secretly lets them hang out with the boy when JC is too busy to notice.

JC and LXC get closer the more the latter understands that there’s not much dirt on Wei Ying (aside from some questionable pictures taken during a university party back in the days, but that’s beside the point). LXC appreciates how crafty and ingenious JC is, always helping others around instead of just shouting orders...even if his temper is atrocious at times.

JC forces LXC to take dance lessons with the lot of the main family members and LXC meets JC’s mother for the first time. she is competitive about her dancing skills and Wei Ying tries to win her over by asking her to show everybody how it’s done by leading her ex-husband in a tango. after publicly humiliating her ex-husband (and making him fall in love with her once more), she insists on practicing a waltz with LXC and basically threatens him to cut off his balls if he dares to lead JC on with his charms.

LXC realizes he’s been playing and flirting too much with the man for him not to notice, but JC seems oblivious. no. he’s completely oblivious and kind and beautiful as he dances with Jin Ling and twirls him around in delight. LXC played too hard and now he’s in too deep.

the only source of drama in this would be JC finding out LXC let Jin Ling hang out with his other uncles and aunt despite the warnings. JC was starting to trust the man... and LXC stabbed him in the back. he would have much preferred not to discover it from his nephew (who let it slip that LXC “told him not to speak of his uncles and aunt to Jiujiu”), because he would have given LXC a chance to explain himself otherwise. but no. JC cannot have good things apparently and now he’s heartbroken without even knowing why.

without the lucky charm that is JC (holed up in his flat eating junk food to forget the pain of being an afterthought in other people’s lives), everything goes to shit three days before the wedding: the chef quits, the tea set for the ceremony breaks, one of the maids has accidentally torn apart one set of wedding robes and so on.

the venue gets flooded with live chickens when a truck transporting them breaks down in front of the building and the chicken escape. Jin Ling is loving every second of it, but everything gets destroyed in the ruckus and JC’s hard work is ruined.

Wei Ying is heartbroken and Lan Zhan silently accuses LXC of being the cause of this and urges him to fix the mess unless he wants to receive the cold shoulder for the rest of his days. but LXC is a cowards and spends his time actually fixing the broken things or replacing them or finding seamstresses to help with the garments and so on himself. anything but facing JC and be rejected.

ZiXuan comes to his senses and blurts out that “he really just wanted to have a loving family” the moment JGY, A-Su and Mo XuanYu come check on LXC. they hug and cry and laugh and YanLi gently reminds them that this is not about them right now and that they should help with the preparations if they have so much time on their hands. her mother is very proud of her and nods appreciatively at ZiXuan’s shocked and weirdly intrigued expression after being humiliated so boldly in front of everyone. the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree indeed.

the day before the wedding Wei Ying threatens to call the wedding off if JC doesn’t show up for his big day: not because he’s the planner, but because Wei Ying wants him close on his happiest day and he will not have it any other way.

LXC goes to fetch JC in his apartment himself the night before the wedding and they yell and they make peace and then they make love and then they woke up late the next day and they have to rush to the venue.

Wei Ying is livid until JC appears and then they celebrate the wedding of the century. A week of celebrations later Lan Zhan deadpans that they actually got married already like, one month in after meeting each other, but Wei Ying wanted a big wedding and he didn’t want to deny his husband a single thing.

JC tries to strangle his brother as the last family picture is being taken.

give me an award already.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #xicheng #wangxian #mdzs/au: modern #mdzs/au: wedding planner #mo dao zu shi

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carolyncaves · 4 years

Text

WWX Goes to Gusu: Part 3, in which things get a little out of hand ... aka I was definitely not planning for this to become a full-blown elaborate wedding fic, but here we are. 8501 words, Wangxian, LXC, LQR, vague mental illness, tenderness and devotion, marriage proposal, Lan family feelings, the author trying to thread the needle re: nonheteronormativity vs vaguely gendered wedding & marriage things

part one | part two | also on ao3

Lan Wangji could see the precise moment Xichen realized what he was suggesting – a marriage between himself and Wei Ying. He stood up a little straighter, as if realizing he was going to have to be a sect leader and eldest brother in this conversation even this early in the morning. A bittersweetness appeared in the set of his eyebrows. He believed Lan Wangji was being foolishly lovelorn.

In fact Lan Wangji was terrified and this was the only straw within his desperate reach.

“This seems very sudden,” Xichen said. “I know you harbor a deep affection for Wei-gongzi, have perhaps for years, but in recent times he’s held you harshly at a distance.”

“It’s not like that. Xiongzhang, he is vulnerable to Jin-zongzhu.” He was also vulnerable to himself, and to Jiang Wanyin, and to everybody who came within arm’s reach of him, but Lan Wangji could not say any of that.

“Did he request this of you?” Xichen asked, clear eyes sharp.

“We have not discussed it.”

Xichen sighed. He slowly crossed the hanshi – so similar to the jingshi, in its uncluttered elegance, but so different in that it was Xichen’s and Lan Wangji could not imagine Wei Ying within it – and sat down at the table, which bore tea. It must have been delivered before Lan Wangji arrived – no simple feat, since he had risen carefully from the bed and left the jingshi even before the dawn chime sounded.

He hadn’t slept. He had spent the night absorbing the texture of Wei Ying’s hair, its scent, the tide of his breath and its dampness against his chest. The warmth of him. The bright shine of his drowsy eyes when he couldn’t sleep and the peace on his haggard face when he could. The weight of his arm and the affectionate brush of his thumb against Lan Wangji’s spine, comforting even now when he was the one wounded. The shift of his leg between Lan Wangji’s own – completely idle, totally at ease, the two of them sharing one space. There could be nothing more natural in all the world, and nothing more rare and precious.

Lan Wangji had spent the night planning to marry Wei Ying. Now it was morning, so he could try to do it.

Xichen poured himself a cup. “Do you think he would agree? His brother has just ascended as Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang. It was difficult to convince him to come to Cloud Recesses even temporarily.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “I would go to Lotus Pier.”

Xichen paused, tea halfway to his mouth. It had likely never occurred to him Lan Wangji might marry out. It hadn’t occurred to Lan Wangji himself until it was nearly too late.

“Wangji,” Xichen said solemnly, “Why don’t you sit?” He retrieved another cup from the tray and placed it across from him.

Lan Wangji obeyed. He sat and drank, and otherwise said nothing and did nothing. He let Xichen think.

At length, Xichen said, “It would not be disadvantageous.” His words were slow, as if draw through deep water, some thick medium which resisted their passing. “Under Jiang Wanyin, the Jiang sect has emerged vibrant from the ashes of their defeat. Wei Wuxian is a formidable figure, weakened only by his instability and Jiang-zongzhu’s youth and insecurity, which Jin Guangshan uses to undermine them both.” He paused. Then, “The Lan sect would benefit from their alliance, and the Jiang sect would benefit from the aura of the Lan sect’s venerable reputation.”

Lan Wangji’s hand clenched involuntarily around the teacup. “You will allow it?”

“Wangji … I sense you are doing this because feel you would be protecting Wei-gongzi, but I must ask you to also consider yourself. You have your own life. This is too much of yourself to give solely on his behalf.”

“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. “Xiongzhang. Who else but Wei Ying?”

He worried that wouldn’t be clear enough, didn’t know how to convey that he would not be giving anything, that it was Wei Ying whose hand would be forced and he who would be going with his whole heart – but a very soft expression settled over Xichen’s face. “Ah, Wangji. Please understand it’s hard for me to grapple with the idea of parting from my dear younger brother. If this is what you yourself want, I would never stand in your way.”

Lan Wangji felt so pleased and relieved he might perhaps have smiled.

Xichen certainly smiled back at him, though it was touched with bemusement. “It’s a little early for that, don’t you think? There are a number of other people whose agreement we must secure.”

We. Lan Wangji did not know what he could have done in his past lives to deserve an older brother like Xichen.

“Who will you approach first?” Xichen continued. “Wei-gongzi, or Shufu?”

Wangji had considered that. There had never been any question Lan Wangji would start with Xichen, but having received his blessing: “If Wei Ying is not willing, there is no need to involve Shufu.”

Xichen nodded his agreement. “Additionally, if Shufu is to be convinced, I think Wei-gongzi will need to give an account.” At even the mention of that, Xichen sighed.

Lan Wangji could not argue with his dismay. Shufu would be nearly impossible to sway, considering his opinion of Wei Ying to start and Wei Ying’s new cultivation besides. It did not matter. Lan Wangji would try. Lan Wangji would succeed. If Wei Ying was willing, how could Lan Wangji do anything but marry him?

If Wei Ying was willing.

When Lan Wangji returned to the jingshi after accompanying Xichen during his breakfast, he found Wei Ying awake, sitting bleary and alone at the table, eating breakfast himself. The servants must have come at Lan Wangji’s usual time. For a brief moment he was angry at them, for waking Wei Ying when he’d been sleeping. But that was not fair. He was unhappier with himself, for leaving Wei Ying alone. It had been necessary, to initiate the motion of this necessary thing, but he had not intended for Wei Ying to wake up with the bed empty beside him.

“Have they made you start rising even earlier now?” Wei Ying said, before yawning around his porridge. “The Lan schedule is truly merciless.”

Lan Wangji made himself sit across from him as if nothing were different. In truth, nothing was different. Not yet. “I apologize. There was a matter that could not wait.”

“You know, you can go off and do things even though I’m here, Lan Zhan. I realize I am in quite a pitiful state, but I will be able to survive for brief periods without your kind and tender care. Not that I’m at all complaining.” Wei Ying looked up at him and smiled, playful and warm despite everything. Lan Wangji wanted to marry him.

Instead he served himself his morning meal and ate it in silence. Never before had the rule against speaking during meals felt so constraining. Perhaps he should be grateful. Without it, he might have asked him over tea and congee.

“Will you go back to sleep?” was what Lan Wangji did in fact ask Wei Ying, when they were through. He would not beleaguer Wei Ying due to his own fervor.

Wei Ying sat back with one of his knees canted up. Improper, but lively. “No, no. Maybe this way I’ll be able to sleep better tonight.” His tone held a little skepticism, but he smiled. He was smiling much more now than he had when he’d arrived, just the night before last. It could have been an affectation, but even so it meant he felt comfortable and strong enough to pretend. “What will we do today? Shall we go back and see the bunnies? If you have work in the Library Pavilion, I could come with you and pretend to copy lines.” His smile turned mischievous for an all-too-brief beat.

“We will go to the cold springs.” Lan Wangji felt hot, too hot. Agitated. Perhaps the water would give him clarity. He needed to get this right. This was the most important question he would ever ask.

And that was the place he had wound his headband around Wei Ying’s wrist – where he had first, barely even knowing or comprehending it, declared to the universe they were one another’s. He’d often wondered if that memory stood out to Wei Ying as well.

Wei Ying ran a hand through his hair, smiling in chagrin. “I guess I could use a wash, ah, Lan Zhan?”

That was not what Lan Wangji had meant – Wei Ying was not noticeably unclean – but if it made him comply, Lan Wangji would not argue.

///

Wei Wuxian was hardly in any position to talk, but Lan Zhan was acting strangely.

More strangely than the magnetic closeness and the constant possessive touch. That was actually all very delightful, and Lan Zhan was still doing it – but now he also seemed distracted. It was a little hard to tell with someone who neglected to react to things as often as Lan Zhan, but Wei Wuxian knew him very well. He was needing even longer than normal to think and speak, and he was taking Wei Wuxian’s teasing – ah, Lan Zhan, I’m going to wash my ankles now, don’t look! – with a dazed silence, instead of his more usual pointed unamusement or even the dry-tinder outrage that had been so easy to kindle when they were younger.

Lan Zhan ended up coaxing them to sit very close to each other in the therapeutic cold water, inner robes plastered to their skin. Lan Zhan’s eyes kept flitting between the forest across the pond and Wei Wuxian’s face. Wei Wuxian would to need to go off on his own to wash his hair and scrub his body at some point – preferably soon, before he froze to death – and it didn’t seem as though Lan Zhan was going to give him an opening.

“Do you have something on your mind, Lan Zhan?” He nudged his shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. If you need to be taking care of some other business, whatever you were doing this morning, just say so. Or if you’re already regretting the two weeks, that’s fine as well. I’m nothing but a humble guest in your home, and you and Zewu Jun have already been unbelievably kind. You’ve helped me a great deal.” And that was true – Wei Wuxian felt better today. Lighter, freer. If he reached for them, he could detect that tension and anguish and despair right around the corner, waiting for him, but as long as he didn’t look directly at them, he was able to pretend they weren’t there.

He would have no choice but to look at them when he went back. But right now he was carefully ignoring the whole snarl. That was a problem for a future Wei Wuxian.

Lan Zhan’s mind was very far away. Then he was right here, and then he was facing Wei Wuxian and clasping both of his pruny hands in his strong, skillful own.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and then he didn’t continue. His expression was a little frantic.

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, because whatever it was, it would be – or at least, he’d do his best to make it that way. “You can take your time.”

Lan Zhan did – he took a breath. He took his time. When he spoke, it was quietly, and he said, “Wei Ying, would you let me marry you?”

At first Wei Wuxian couldn’t even make sense of his meaning. Marriage was a concept he had really never applied to himself, if he were honest. He had to go through the sentence word-by-word like a young schoolchild. Once he had and he understood it, his heart dropped into a yawning endless void.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, toneless even to his own ears, “you don’t have to do that.”

“No.” Lan Zhan squeezed his hands like a vice, unyielding when he tried to pull away. “There’s no ‘have to’. I want to marry you. To be married to you.”

“But.” His voice came out tight and cracked, but he couldn’t help it. “How can I let you do that? How can Hanguang Jun marry me?” Demonic cultivator, master of wicked tricks. Tainted with resentment. Without a golden core. Ruined.

“I would ask for nothing more in all my life,” Lan Zhan said, as if that were a reasonable response. “Whatever the form, I would be content if you were. If you would not be, if you are unwilling … I understand. I will find another way.”

“What do you mean, whatever the form?” Wei Wuxian didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, but for some reason he really didn’t like the sound of it. It sounded like deprivation, resignation, sacrifice, and Wei Wuxian would never want that for Lan Zhan. “What do you mean, you’d be content?”

“I understand if you do not feel as I do.”

Wei Wuxian’s ears were ringing. “Feel?” Lan Zhan’s declaration, I would ask for nothing more in all my life, was playing over and over in mind, along with the rabbits in his lap and the tears in Lan Zhan’s eyes when Wei Wuxian asked him to play Cleansing for him, and Lan Zhan’s gentle fingers in his hair last night, and his desperate insistence Wei Wuxian come back to Gusu, and the tender kiss he had planted against Wei Wuxian’s lips when he tried to tell him he didn’t have to help him – all those myriad pieces that actually, when he thought about them for even a fraction of a second, made up one monolithic, all-encompassing whole.

Wei Wuxian gaped, and then he tried to hit him, though his hands were pinned and he was unable to. “Lan Zhan! Did you just say you’d marry me even if I didn’t love you back? That’s terrible. How could I tolerate that?”

“It would not affect my intention. I would do it gladly, if it would protect you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t.” He tugged at his hands, and Lan Zhan still held them. “How am I supposed to embrace you, Lan Zhan, if you keep me trapped like this?”

His hands were freed instantly, and then he was being dragged close. Wei Wuxian threw his own arms around Lan Zhan’s shoulders, clutching at him tightly – they were a tangle of cold water, wet heavy clothes, and hot skin. Lan Zhan eventually pulled him fully into his lap and held him there. Wei Wuxian gladly held him back, let himself relax in the hold of this ridiculous person.

“I do,” Wei Wuxian said into half-damp hair. “Feel the way you do.” Maybe it was shallow to love someone who’d been so good to him, especially when he’d so often been harsh or annoying in return, but he did. There was no use not saying it. “But I don’t know if I can let us get married.”

Lan Zhan’s grip clenched ever tighter. “Why not?”

Why not? Wei Wuxian was choking on the reason, drowning in it. Was Lan Zhan really going to make him say it? He forced himself to laugh. “How shall I order the list? Lan Zhan, I’m me.”

“And?”

“I’m a demon, for one. And parentless, a hanger-on to the Jiang sect, merely Jiang Cheng’s faithful subordinate. Not to mention my small lack …” He drew one hand almost reflexively down to press against the void of his core. Lan Zhan’s hand was right there to cover it. “And you’re Hanguang Jun.” He gripped that hand instead. “One of the Twin Jades of Lan. The most powerful cultivator alive today, in possession of a sterling reputation. It strikes me as too poor a match.”

“You are more powerful than I, with your tools. The Jiang sect is formidable because you are its head disciple. It may be a poor match, as I am only a second son and can offer no heir or political friendships – but I ask that you give me an opportunity to convince you. My spiritual power would be yours, and my sword, so you could keep yourself from the needless fray. My family’s influence …”

“Your family would never agree to me,” Wei Wuxian said, the words striking him hard in the chest for some reason. “Not even if the sun toppled from the heavens and the sea flooded the earth.”

“Xiongzhang has already given his blessing,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian pushed himself away so he could look at him, hardly able to believe it. “Is that what you were doing this morning? Before the curfew was even lifted?”

Lan Zhan nodded.

Wei Wuxian felt tears prickling in his eyes. He curled his hands around Lan Zhan’s damp-robed shoulders.

“Wei Ying, do not deflect. Would like to marry me and have me join you in all things for the rest of your life?”

Wei Wuxian was well on his way to crying now, his breaths hitched and unsteady. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Of course. But …”

Lan Zhan’s hands squeezed viciously. “No ‘but’. Do not think of the obstacles. We will take them together, always. On the same path, without regret. Will you agree?”

“Lan Zhan … you’re too much, you’re not real.” Wei Wuxian put a shaking hand to Lan Zhan’s cheek. “You can’t want to marry me.”

“I judge for myself, and I do.” Lan Zhan mirrored the gesture, carefully moving a strand of hair out of Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Wei Ying, will you?”

“Lan Zhan!” Lan Zhan had gone mad – that was the only explanation. But Wei Wuxian was not in the best condition himself, and he had no more will to continue fighting, not when he so desperately wanted to give in. “Yes, I will.”

Then they were hugging again, harder than before. Wei Wuxian could barely feel his arms and legs, and he didn’t know that it had much to do with the cold water.

It seemed impossible to imagine. He and Lan Zhan, married. Lan Zhan, who knew his mind, and his secret, and his dreams, who spoke to him when he spoke to nobody and who was righteous and good and whose company he could never tire of keeping. If they got married, Wei Wuxian would never again be asked to choose against him. They would never be required to keep apart. Lan Zhan seemed too calm, but maybe he’d just had more time to get used to it. Wei Wuxian would himself, before long.

For now, he lay his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder and wept, because Lan Zhan had been cut by him at his most hostile, and seen him at his most bruised, and felt the hollowed-out edges of his vacated power, and still somehow wanted him anyway.

///

It was barely late morning when Lan Xichen received a note from Wangji. It simply read, He is willing.

In the privacy of his own thoughts, Lan Xichen would admit that a small corner of his heart sank. He had always been in favor of Wangji’s relationship with the lively – if unorthodox – Wei-gongzi, but his recent changes had complicated things; Wei Wuxian’s willingness meant either Wangji would leave their home and face Wei Wuxian’s many challenges, or he would be heartbroken when this unlikely betrothal proved impossible to negotiate.

And despite having given the matter some thought, Lan Xichen really could not imagine how Shufu could be convinced.

Still, they would try, so he went to the jingshi to discuss next steps. He found them sitting on the floor in front of the bed: hair damp, Wangji’s headband wound around both their wrists, fingers tangled together, dressed in white inner robes out of Wangji’s wardrobe – looking in all ways a paired set. Wei Wuxian seemed dazed and had obviously been crying, and the open awe with which he was gazing at Wangji went a long way toward mollifying Lan Xichen’s reservations about his reciprocation. Wangji himself looked more beatifically happy than Lan Xichen had ever seen him.

If only Shufu could see this, perhaps he would relent.

“Can we speak with Shufu after lunch?” Wangji asked. Wei Wuxian winced a little, but otherwise did not protest.

“So soon?” Lan Xichen would think Wangji might want to enjoy this for at least short time. “Have you considered how you will approach the meeting?”

“We will ask him. What else can we do?”

Lan Xichen tried not to let his heart feel heavy. Not yet, when, in all current respects, Wangji had precisely what he wanted.

And if Shufu was to be worn down, Lan Xichen imagined it would be very much like water wearing down a stone, which meant it would be good to start now.

First, though: “Don’t you think your prospective husband should ask me for your hand himself at some point?”

Wei Wuxian startled immediately, scrambling to his knees. He was tethered to Wangji, so Lan Xichen went over to them, allowing Wei Wuxian to address him without requiring them to part. His hair was slightly bedraggled from being wet – apparently they had gone to the springs – but his expressive face was solemn as he clasped his hands in front of himself with great formality and said. “Zewu Jun, this humble cultivator seeks a betrothal with your younger brother, Lan Wangji.”

“The head of my family is my shufu, and you will need to ask his permission. If he gives it, I will agree to the betrothal.”

“Thank you, Zewu Jun,” Wei Wuxian murmured, bowing a lot lower than he needed to, considering Lan Xichen had already acquiesced. “For this and every other thing.”

“For this, you have no need to thank me, Wei-gongzi. There are few things I would not do in service of my brother’s wellbeing. You will certainly remember that?”

Perhaps Lan Xichen was mistaken, but he thought he saw Wei Wuxian’s life flash before his eyes as he nodded. “Of course, Zewu Jun.”

“Xiongzhang,” Wangji said woundedly.

“I will call for lunch,” Lan Xichen said, instead of deigning to justify himself, “and you will both need to get fully dressed. Shufu has no afternoon classes today, so I will set an appointment with him in two hours’ time.

When they met him before the path to Shufu’s residence, they were groomed meticulously; Lan Xichen had expected no less. Wangji now wore an elegant white outer robe, and the headband had been returned to his forehead – almost a shame, but likely a wise choice. Wei Wuxian had redressed in his own attire, black with vibrant flashes of red, hair smooth and high, that dark dizi at his waist. Suibian was nowhere to be seen.

On the one hand, he might have considered at least giving the impression he intended to rejoin the sword path for this meeting’s sake – not that Lan Xichen generally condoned lying. On the other, if even the task of securing a betrothal to Wangji – which Lan Xichen did believe he wanted – would not convince him to carry it, Wangji had been astute to suggest they stop trying.

Wangji knew he was intractable on the matter and wanted this marriage regardless. Lan Xichen would simply have to hope he was making the right decision for the long term.

Shufu kept his eyes on the document in front of him as they entered the residence, but Lan Xichen was not certain he was reading it. He rather seemed to carefully track their movements – Lan Xichen to the side, present primarily to offer visible support, and Wangji and Wei Wuxian to kneel in front of him, one beside the other. Shufu abandoned any pretense of reading, instead staring witheringly at one of them in particular.

“Generally my nephews do not set appointments to see me for casual matters,” Shufu said. “And generally my guests come by invitation.”

An invitation Wei Wuxian had certainly not received in the few days he had been at Cloud Recesses. This was primarily because Shufu had been informed he was recovering from an illness, but Shufu’s point – that Wei Wuxian was certainly not his guest – was difficult to miss.

Wei Wuxian took a visibly took a slow breath. “That’s because this is not a casual matter, Lan-xiansheng.” He clasped his hands and bowed pristinely. “Lan-xiansheng, this humble cultivator seeks a betrothal to your nephew, Lan Wangji.”

“On whose behalf?”

Wei Wuxian’s brows furrowed. Clearly he was not expecting to have been misunderstood. “My own, Xiansheng. I, Wei Wuxian, seek to take Lan Wangji as my husband.”

The silence that occupied the residence seemed to have an energy of its own, washing any potential sound away with the force of its current.

“Get out,” Shufu said, and it was painful to watch Wangji’s downcast face flinch. “The depth of your malintent. Get out.”

“No, Xiansheng,” Wei Wuxian said firmly, still bowed. “My inquiry is serious, and I would state my case.”

“Such inquiry could never be serious.” Shufu’s face quivered with his anger. “You will never wed Wangji. Get out.”

“My parents were Wei Changse, a lifelong friend and servant of Jiang Sect Leader Jiang Fengmian, and Cangse Sanren, a disciple of Baoshan Sanren,” Wei Wuxian recited, undeterred. “After their deaths, I was raised under the care of Jiang-zongzhu and Zi Zhizhu. I am the number one disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang sect, shixiong and right hand to Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin.” He paused, then forged onward. “I am the cultivator who subdued Wen Ruohan’s puppets at Nightless City. With Jiang Wanyin, I brought justice against Wen Chao and the Core-Melting Hand.”

“Are you also the phantom who used wild resentful energy to slaughter the entire complement at Yiling Supervisory Office and every Wen soldier you encountered on your path thereafter?”

“I am,” Wei Wuxian answered immediately, and a shiver ran down Lan Xichen’s spine at the cold light that settled in Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “I am the master of Chenqing and the Yin Tiger Amulet. If your nephew is at my side, he will never need to be afraid of anything.”

Shufu narrowed his eyes. “Except you.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, venomously slow. “Even if your nephew had his sword at my throat, he would never need to be afraid of me.”

Lan Xichen wondered if that was true. He believed Wei Wuxian believed it was, and prayed he was correct.

More urgently, the hostility in the air had grown as thick as fog. Lan Xichen tried to cut through it. “Undoubtedly Wei-gongzi is a talented and innovative cultivator, irrespective of his methods.”

“His use of resentful energy is a perversion of cultivation, and he is hazardous to everyone around him.”

“Xiongzhang and I would have been killed by Wen Ruohan’s puppets,” Wangji said softly – the first words he’d spoken. His hand landed on Wei Wuxian’s arm in restraint. “Sunshot would have ended in catastrophe.”

Shufu’s bearded mouth turned down, as if when chewing on that thought, he found it against his taste. “Perhaps. That does not mean I will ever allow you to marry him.”

“Shufu.”

“No.”

“Shufu, please. I will be able to help him.”

“No! Have you learned nothing of the lessons of your father’s mistakes? You cannot shield someone from the consequences of their actions!”

“Shufu, with every respect, I do not follow the same path. Please let me go out and stand with Wei Ying, so that we may live all our lives rightly together. To root out evil, help the weak, and live without shame or regrets.”

Wangji and Wei Wuxian knelt side-by-side, heads bowed; so severe, so earnest. Their feelings were true, and the circumstances were reasonably favorable. If it were any other person but Shufu, any other supplicant but Wei Wuxian, there would be little difficulty. As it was …

“Wangji, you will be better off without him,” Shufu intoned.

“Shufu,” Wangji said, so mournfully Lan Xichen had to close his eyes against it.

“Shufu,” he said, so suddenly it surprised even him. But he the next words came to his lips. “I am not so certain.”

He had not come here to argue against Shufu’s judgement. He had intended to let the water wear down the stone. But … but his brother was truly in love, and he truly loved his brother.

Through the silence, eventually that gruff voice came. “Wangji.”

“Shufu?”

“He is rude and irreverent, erratic and unconstrained. His mind crawls with wicked ideas, and his body is brimming with resentful energy. Is this what you wish to tie yourself to, now and forever, before all your ancestors?”

“Yes, shufu.”

“He is stained in the eyes of the cultivation world, through his own doing, and joined to him you might find your own reputation dragged through the same mud. You would have that?”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said quietly.

“Yes, shufu.”

“Among all the people of the world, you somehow prefer him? Do you not see that in time, you could come to prefer another?”

“Among all people, there is only one Wei Ying.”

Shufu let out a long, grumbling sigh. “Very well, then.”

Lan Xichen opened his eyes to look – and the wide shock on Wangji’s and Wei Wuxian’s faces matched his own enough that he couldn’t have been mistaken.

“If being deprived of marrying him would break your heart, Wangji, how could I rip this from you?”

“It would,” Wangji croaked.

“So it would seem,” Shufu said, not bothering to hide his distaste, “as my other nephew has not hesitated to point out.”

Lan Xichen wasn’t certain whether he ought to truly feel abashed, but Shufu managed it regardless.

“Wei Wuxian, for Wangji’s sake alone, I will allow him to be betrothed to you.”

“Shufu,” Wangji said fervently, clasping his hands and bowing. “Thank you.” Wei Wuxian did the same barely a heartbeat behind him.

“If he should come to harm in your care, there isn’t enough resentful energy in the world to shelter you.”

“Of course, of course, it will never come to that,” Wei Wuxian rattled off. “I will protect him and care for him, Xiansheng.”

“And I him,” Wangji vowed.

Shufu looked much less impassioned by that.

“With this agreement sorted out,” Lan Xichen interjected, still a little chagrinned, “we can go to Lotus Pier when the two of you are ready, to negotiate the betrothal with Jiang-zongzhu.”

“We should go tonight, or tomorrow,” Wangji said. Then, as if suddenly possessed by an idea, “We should pour the tea now, and bow at the ancestral shrine. So we will not have to return to Cloud Recesses after securing Jiang-zongzhu’s approval.”

Lan Xichen was obviously going to object, but Wei Wuxian did so even faster. “Lan Zhan, we can’t do that,” he said under his breath – though in the enclosed residence, it was audible to everyone. “This is a real wedding, your wedding, you shouldn’t … We should do it right. It should be good and nice.”

“It will be good for us to be married. The rest is irrelevant. There is no reason to delay.”

“Come on, Lan Zhan, how can we do the ceremony yet? I don’t even have a betrothal gift, or a spouse price.” Wei Wuxian sniffled. “Jiang Cheng … well, he’s going to be furious, but he’d be even more furious that way. Let’s wait, and I’ll convince him to make it nice. You’re worthy. It would be terrible to give them after the wedding’s half done.”

“Give me whatever you like. It doesn’t matter,” Wangji said.

Or perhaps, You gave me Suibian, did you not?

Lan Xichen wondered if that second meaning was a figment of his imagination – but Wei Wuxian’s eyes were shining brightly, so perhaps not. “Lan Zhan … What if he really refuses? What if it doesn’t work out? We’d be stuck half-married.”

“You would not be stuck – it will only be my ancestors before whom we have bowed, my family for whom we have poured tea. If negotiations dissolve it will only be I who is bound to you.”

Wangji’s voice calm and sure, but his meaning was wild with devotion. Lan Xichen didn’t know quite what to say – and exchanging a glance with Shufu, whose eyebrows had risen quite high, he appeared to feel the same way.

Wei Wuxian had covered his mouth with both hands, as if to physically contain whatever thought or emotion wanted to come out, and still he tipped over and spilled down a waterfall of tears. The formidable Wei Wuxian, master of Chenqing and the Yin Tiger Amulet, who had cast a terrifying shadow a mere minute before, disintegrated into emotion – his thin shell splintering to reveal a ravaged terrain underneath. “Lan Zhan. You’re really too much to bear.”

He shuffled around on his knees and bowed all the way to the floor facing Wangji.

Wangji moved instantly, urgently tugging him upright. He held Wei Wuxian by both arms, and Wei Wuxian reflexively mirrored him. Wangji stared firmly into his eyes. “Wei Ying. We will do this together.”

Wei Wuxian was entirely in pieces, trembling, tears dripping down his face. He nodded, and he clung to Wangji so tightly his hands disappeared in his bunched robes.

Shufu was looking at Lan Xichen, brows furrowed, but he said nothing. He was deferring to Lan Xichen to make this judgement. Shufu did not, after all, know the details behind Wei Wuxian’s coming to Cloud Recesses in the first place.

Lan Xichen knew there were layers to this situation beyond his reach, but he understood Wangji was saving Wei Wuxian’s life with this marriage. To hold Wangji’s portion of the ceremony without having solidified the betrothal was very irregular and might give insult to Jiang-zongzhu – but considering the circumstances, he would allow it if they felt it necessary. “I urge you to consider carefully the feelings of Wei-gongzi’s family, and the importance of cherishing this event in both your lives – but if you are determined, we can hold a ceremony this evening.”

“We can call for tea now,” Wangji said stubbornly.

“Wangji, with a few hours we can at least find you both something to wear. You will have an opportunity to prepare your mind, and so will we.”

“Lan Zhan, it’s all right, this evening is more than all right,” Wei Wuxian urged. “Don’t rush your family, really, it’s already bad enough.”

“Indeed,” Shufu said, causing all three of them to tense. “I was expecting you would have several months to reconsider this madness. At least let me retain hope until nightfall.”

Wangji looked nearly petulant, but Wei Wuxian actually laughed – a short, startled sound. Lan Xichen smiled despite himself. “Remember, Wangji, this is Wei-gongzi’s wedding as well as yours. Allow us make it as beautiful as we can in the time available.”

That, unsurprisingly, was what convinced Wangji to relent.

///

It was beyond unorthodox for the two betrothed to help one another prepare, but Lan Wangji savored doing so.

When they got back to the jingshi after the meeting with Shufu, Wei Ying seemed weary and strung tight, so Lan Wangji said, “Let's sleep.” In this way he got Wei Ying to rest for an hour within the circle of his arms. He woke him by gliding his thumb over the skin of his cheek.

After that, Xichen came with an assortment of clothes that were all reasonably suitable to choose from, and a message. “Shufu would like some time alone with you, Wangji.”

This was probably not unreasonable, considering Lan Wangji was going to get married and leave Cloud Recesses. Shufu had raised Lan Wangji, so even though he suspected it would be an attempt to dissuade him, he went.

He was pleasantly surprised. Shufu did not in any seriousness try to convince him to abandon his marriage to Wei Ying. Instead, he lectured and read passages, giving Lan Wangji one final lesson. He told him about patience and honor, and duty, and trust, and unsurprisingly about what is right and wrong, and surprisingly about love. Lan Wangji listened to understand his wisdom, and to receive the care contained in his providing it.

It was not long – maybe three quarters of an hour. Lan Wangji left the residence feeling prepared, and anticipatory, and at peace.

In the jingshi, Wei Ying was at the desk scowling intently at a sheet of paper covered in unorganized crossed-out notes. He looked up when Lan Wangji entered, and after a moment his face smoothed. He lay the brush aside and folded the paper over, certainly smudging any ink that might not yet have been dry.

“You can finish your work,” Lan Wangji told him.

Wei Ying shook his head, taking the paper with him and crossing the jingshi. “I was trying to write something, but I think … it’s not necessary.” He tucked the paper into his robe, and his gaze drifted over to the mound of red fabric on the bed.

“Did you find something you liked?” Lan Wangji asked. He still had to select something himself.

“I thought … since they aren’t personal anyway, maybe we want to match.”

There were two loose wide-sleeved robes laid to one side, crisp red silk with the thinnest glimmering gold embroidery. Lan Wangji felt a smile pull at his lips and Wei Ying’s fingerprints dance over the back of his shoulder blade. “Yes.” He would have done what Wei Ying wanted regardless, but he liked what he’d designed.

They dressed one other, beginning with simple white fitted robes. Lan Wangji’s clothes fit Wei Ying well enough for this purpose, since there would be another layer on the outside. Lan Wangji closed the robe around Wei Ying’s torso and tied the stays, fingers pressed right up against the solid heat of his body. Wei Ying mirrored this procedure. Then they fixed one another’s hair. Lan Wangji combed until Wei Ying’s hair was as soft as silk itself, and then pulled it up and into a gold circular hairpiece. When it was his turn, he lost himself in the steady ministrations of Wei Ying’s hands, until Wei Ying was finished and Lan Wangji’s hair was adorned with arcing gold spires.

They ate dinner – or at least, Lan Wangji made an attempt. He wanted something, to be sure, but it was different and it would be his very soon – just a few short hours and a single pot of tea, one journey to Yunmeng, one conversation with Jiang Wanyin. Maybe a day or so after. What need did he have for food, in the face of that? He forced himself to take bites regardless. He had to maintain his strength.

Wei Ying devoured his meal, and then he had to step outside into the blue dusk to retch.

Lan Wangji soothed his hair back, put supportive hands on his waist and under his arm. He was trembling from it, and still too thin, and his eyes were red and bruised from crying and now this. It hit Lan Wangji very fiercely that he didn’t have the warm golden suspension that ran through his own veins. Wei Ying had already been tired and unwell, and Lan Wangji had already demanded several things of him that day. “Are you ill? We can delay.”

“No!” Wei Ying gripped Lan Wangji’s arm with ferocious strength. Ill or well, Wei Ying would keep fighting on any battlefield until his body gave out beneath him. Wei Ying’s other hand traced the line of his collar, brushed his lip, hovered to his headpiece. “No. Not unless you want to wait. If you want more time to think, or …”

“No.”

“Then no. I’m just nervous. Anxious, I mean, excited. I’m about to marry Hanguang Jun, Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan. Who wouldn’t be?”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer him. The question was rhetorical. Only Wei Ying would ever know. He held him for a moment, slid his arms around the back of his waist to support him and press them together. Wei Ying’s face was tired, but he seemed soft and happy. “It will not take long,” Lan Wangji promised him. “Then we will rest.”

They went back inside. Wei Ying cleaned his mouth and teeth with fennel powder, and ate some orange slices to give himself a pleasant taste. He playfully demanded to feed several to Lan Wangji as well – “after all, we’re trying to match” – and Lan Wangji was emboldened by the knowledge Wei Ying was going to marry him, so instead of ignoring him, which was all he had ever known how to do, he knelt beside him and parted his lips obediently. Wei Ying’s eyes were wide and dark, and there was a rosy flush to his cheeks that had nothing to do with fever or illness when he placed the sweet fruit in Lan Wangji’s mouth.

The acid tingling of the juice spread much farther through Lan Wangji’s body than it should have from just the touch of it on his tongue.

It was nearly time, though. They had to finish their preparations.

Lan Wangji took one of the red robes off the bed. It was light – the silk would fall elegantly. Wei Ying turned his back, and Lan Wangji draped it over his shoulders. Wei Ying turned, lifting one hand to pull his hair out from beneath the robe, and suddenly, between the golden hairpiece and the crimson robe and the light in Wei Ying’s eyes, he looked like he was getting married. He looked like they were getting married.

Lan Wangji grasped Wei Ying by the arms. He felt … something, and he needed … something more.

“Wait, wait, Lan Zhan, let me get you in yours first,” Wei Ying said softly. “It’s not fair otherwise.”

Lan Wangji, very reluctantly, had to admit that was true.

He allowed Wei Ying to pull the robe over his shoulders, and then to carefully smooth and straighten the parallel lines of it down his chest. Lan Wangji used the opportunity to look at him. Wei Ying made a stunning groom in their improvised clothes. He would have in rags. Lan Wangji would never allow that, would face blades and arrows to prevent it.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, running his hands down his arms, cupping his hands up beneath his jaw. “Jiang Cheng will say yes – I will do whatever it takes to convince him. You will come to Lotus Pier and have a home there, and I will take very good care of you as my husband.” His fingers tightened behind Lan Wangji’s neck, as if to reinforce the oath. “I don’t have quite as much money as the very illustrious Lan sect … in fact, I don’t really have any money of my own … but …”

Lan Wangji had somewhat forgotten he was the one marrying into Wei Ying’s household. “My brother will pay a generous dowry,” he assured him. “And he will continue to give me anything we need.”

“Ah, so will my brother!” Wei Ying objected. “Well, somewhat. And he will certainly be less pleasant about it …”

“I am not concerned,” Lan Wangji said. As long as he was at Wei Ying’s side, further luxuries were optional.

“But I have to keep you in fine robes, Lan Zhan. Rest assured, the Second Jade of Lan will still glow under my keeping.”

Lan Wangji had no doubt of that.

Wei Ying wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji beneath the red outer robe. In this way, pulled close, he brushed a ghost-light kiss to the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth. He’d pulled away before Lan Wangji could turn to return it. “I will also protect you, like I told your uncle. I will have to cause a little less trouble with the other cultivators, I suppose, and I will let you handle the regular things with your sword. But if anyone should really try to harm you …” A little of that menacing light gleamed in Wei Ying’s eye. “I will not let it stand. You know that, don’t you, Lan Zhan?”

He did, and it was torturous. Lan Wangji did not ever want Wei Ying to hurt himself on his behalf. But it would be hypocritical, he supposed, to try to deny him, when he himself would do the same. Additionally, as a purely academic thought, Wei Ying commanding his dark, wild power for Lan Wangji was not – strictly – unappealing. “Only when truly necessary,” Lan Wangji said. He wondered if Wei Ying knew it was a plea. “Only when there is no other choice.”

“Lan Zhan, I will let you play your guqin for me all night long afterward,” Wei Ying replied, which was not even remotely a direct agreement – but his voice was teasing, and they would be married any minute, any second, so Lan Wangji let it go. He would have a lifetime to prevail in this quarrel. He was about to make the vows to ensure it. Even if Jiang Wanyin refused them, even if the world ended that very night, they could never be wholly unconnected from one another. Lan Wangji would be Wei Ying’s.

There was sound at the door – Xichen had appeared. He wore a formal dark blue robe and there was a smile on his face as he regarded them. “You both look very fine. I’ll be back for you in just a few minutes, Wei-gongzi. Wangji, are you ready?”

He was.

Xichen led him to the hanshi. The doorway had been draped in crimson, as had the perimeter of the central room. Candles burned along the walls. Shufu was there, seated behind the table, dressed in rich misty brocade, a more elaborate garment than Lan Wangji had seen him wear since he’d handed responsibility for inter-sect affairs to Xichen. The table held a beautiful tea set – deep azure porcelain with a pale blue design and silver gilding. Suitable for Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan, for Wei Ying and Lan Wangji. Suitable to form part of Lan Wangji’s dowry. It was perfect. He couldn’t imagine how Xichen had found it at such short notice.

“Wangji,” Xichen said, making him look up, and Xichen had a red ribbon embroidered with gold clouds suspended in his hands.

Lan Wangji reached up and removed his powder blue one. He held still as Xichen tied the red one around his forehead. It had been years since he had needed help to don his ribbon. It was a strange feeling to have someone else do it now, one that lodged him firmly in this moment.

It was done. A servant brought in hot water, lit the candle beneath it, and departed. “Shall I go get him, Wangji?” Xichen asked. “Or would you like a moment?”

Lan Wangji’s heart flew erratic in his chest. “Go on.”

It felt as though Lan Wangji had no time at all before Xichen returned. He came in alone and took his seat beside Shufu, behind the table Lan Wangji knelt in front of. Then Wei Ying appeared in the doorway.

There followed a century in which Lan Wangji beheld him. Framed by the night garden, red garlands, and candlelight, he looked fine indeed – a brilliant flash of white between rich and auspicious red and gold, tall and elegant, hair fine, hairpiece gleaming. He was here for Lan Wangji. He stepped across the threshold into the hanshi.

“Stop,” Shufu said.

Wei Ying stopped short. Lan Wangji turned to Shufu in betrayal.

Shufu cleared his throat. “Wei Wuxian. Are spirits, demons, ghosts, and monsters the same thing?”

It took Lan Wangji a too-long moment to understand. This was the challenge his family would throw up for Wei Ying, which he had to overcome to reach Lan Wangji. A simple question even a junior disciple could answer. He looked back to Wei Ying, who was smiling. “No. Spirits are formed from living non-human beings. Monsters are formed from dead non-human beings. Ghosts are formed from dead humans.” A wry thread touched his voice. “Demons are formed from living humans.”

“Very good,” Shufu said gruffly. As the silence stretched, Wei Ying took another step forward. “Stop,” Shufu commanded again. “What is the order of measures of cultivation?”

Wei Ying let out a breathy laugh. “There are a number of methods. First, liberation. Second, suppression. Third, elimination.” He paused. “I think sometimes of a fourth method, but I will not bother you with it this evening, Xiansheng.”

Lan Wangji could not help but look at Shufu. There was a small tic in his brow, but he could have expected nothing else, asking that question. After a moment, he pronounced, “Very good.”

Wei Ying advanced one more step.

“Stop.” Shufu raised both eyebrows. “What is the thirteenth Lan principle?”

Wei Ying’s grin widened, sharpened, hardened. “Don’t practice crooked ways.”

Shufu stared at Wei Ying and said nothing. Wei Ying stared at Shufu and said nothing further. Eventually, Shufu jerked his chin upward, and Wei Ying advanced the last few steps and took his place at the table.

Lan Wangji exchanged a harried glance with Xichen. Shufu might easily have been more intransigent, Wei Ying more combative. He wondered why Shufu had brought up Wei Ying’s cultivation style again if he didn’t mean to pursue it. Perhaps he was just making clear his enduring disapproval.

Perhaps the challenge was tolerating his open disdain.

The ceremony did not take long. Wei Ying took the red ribbon from Lan Wangji’s forehead and wound the ends around their wrists. Bound together, they prepared the tea. Wei Ying poured the first cup and offered it to Shufu. “Shugong, please accept this from me.”

Shufu looked briefly to the heavens when Wei Ying referred to him as family, and for one final moment Lan Wangji’s breath stilled – but Shufu grimly acknowledged, “Zhixu,” and accepted the cup. Xichen answered Wei Ying’s appeal with a warm ‘Dixu’, and they exchanged bright smiles.

Lan Wangji’s heart could not have been fuller. He was not properly meant to cry until they departed Cloud Recesses, so he restrained himself, but it was difficult. He poured tea for his family with steady hands.

In truth, they would not be finished until they were wed within the Jiang sect, but for the time being it was enough. After they went to the Lan family shrine and bowed side-by-side before Lan Wangji’s ancestors, Lan Wangji took Wei Ying back to the jingshi and lay him down to rest, just as he’d promised. He gathered Wei Ying to him back to front, so they were pressed together along every inch. Wei Ying laced the fingers of both their hands tight. Lan Wangji tugged him a little bit closer.

Wei Ying slept quickly once he was free to let his exhaustion claim him. Lan Wangji intended to plan his petition to Jiang Wanyin, but he must have been weary himself, because before too long he fell unconscious alongside him.

part four

#cql #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #fanfiction #wangxian shotgun wedding is a sappy plot decision I have no justification for #except lxc is relying on lwj to make a reasonable and well-behaved call and lwj is impaired by love #he wants to be married to wei ying yesterday #so he’ll settle for now #for the double entendre with suibian as the betrothal gift #this is an english fic of a fantasy-chinese setting so please just close your eyes and assume with me #that it’s possible to construct a sentence in fantasy-chinese that could carry either one of those meanings #since suibian means ‘whatever you want/it doesn’t matter’#in real life would this actually be even remotely plausible or subtle? I don’t know #for the relative words i'm trying to take direction from other esteemed fic writers where possible #but my needs are a little specific and I'm also obviously not responsible enough to be left alone with pleco unsupervised #everything else from the wedding and betrothal stuff to the dental hygiene is a hodgepodge #of things I’ve read in fics + facts from like page 1 of google + my own fabrication #aka likely to be either highly simplistic or flat out made up #so please forgive my language-and-culture sins and know that I have no idea what I’m talking about #yes them getting even half-hitched without asking jc first is as terrible an idea as it sounds #lxc obviously bought that tea set years ago #lxc #lqr #my fic

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crybabyforhire · 3 years

Text

Listening to Don Bluth’s Anastasia OST earlier and I can’t get a mdzs au out of my head so I’m just going to dump all my thoughts here.

and here’s a link to the movie’s wiki for reference but I recommend watching it! Don Bluth does amazing work and Anastasia has fun characters and a catch soundtrack!)

LWJ as Anastasia. WWX as Dimitri, of course. Could possibly be switched but WWX’s personality would help drive Dimitri’s goal in the beginning. BUT WWX would also make a good Anya/Anastasia and this one particular scene with WWX as Anya would be very good in my opinion but it would also be good the other way too there is potential!! both!! ways!!!

LWJ doesn’t have any memories before the past 10 years and now 18, has decided to go out and find answers. He only has the one clue: to go to Qinghe, The Unclean Realm. (The clue could be something like the music box and necklace in the film. Maybe a jade pendant or forehead ribbon?)

WWX needs money fast (maybe to help the remaining Wens, or specifically A-Yuan? Going this route it would make sense for WN to be his partner in crime; JC or NHS could be a fun partner too but I am partial to WN so I’m using him for this rambling).

So WWX gets the bright idea to find a look-alike for the younger Lan brother, Lan Wangji of Gusu, who disappeared during a siege of Cloud Recesses 10 years ago. His brother, LXC (Lan Qiren could still be alive too but not as hopefully or something??), has kept onto hope all this time and has a hefty reward offered for anyone who can reunite him with his brother.

If they find someone who resembles and act like him then maybe they could get away with it! Sure, they would feel bad about using someone’s grief to trick them but they are really desperate.

WWX and WN host ‘tryouts’ to find the best look-alike. They go through a handful of auditions (Su She as one of them would be funny!!) but none of them make the cut.

Somehow LWJ finds himself meeting WWX and WN and WWX is like ‘yes, this is it!!!’ and convinces LWJ to go to the Unclean Realm with them to meet LXC.

The journey ensues and the closer they get to their destination the more a thought keeps bothering WWX. LWJ seems familiar-ish and has been acting and even answering questions eerily accurate for just a look-alike.

They arrive and are met with NHS (almost put JGY here because there could be some good scheming and lies there but I didn’t want to figure out details). NMJ is still LXC sworn brother (and potential love interest?? I think its a sweet couple) and is actually the one who has helped LXC this whole time.

NHS’s job is to screen anyone who comes forth with any information regarding the lost second jade. If they pass then LXC will see them. As NHS asks questions and LWJ answers one particular one triggers a memory for WWX.

He’s a young boy on the night of the siege, servant to the Lan family, and helps a young LWJ escape before he can be found. The night is in chaos and they get separated, never able to introduce each other. But WWX remembers beautiful golden eyes, the same color as the man he’s been traveling with. And it clicks.

They pass but 10 years is a long time and LXC has had his heart broken many times over with fakes and frauds. He’s tired. NHS arranges for them to an audience but LXC denies it.

WWX and LWJ have a dispute, LWJ finding out the reasons why WWX is doing this and leaves, both heartbroken.

Desperate to get LXC to meet with LWJ, WWX does something crazy to get his attention. He’s able to convince LXC with his now found memories of that night and whatever it was that gave LWJ his clue in the first place.

LXC gives in and meets LWJ and it is a happy, tearful reunion. Later, LWJ learns that WWX did not take the reward. Cue LWJ going to find WWX.

They get together, kiss, and its a happy ending! But LWJ doesn’t run off with WWX just yet. They stay, move the remaining Wens to Qinghe, and maybe start the plans to return to the Cloud Recesses? Or not, LXC could marry NMJ now that his brother is home and LWJ and WWX can come and go as they please (but they stay for awhile because A-Yuan and happy little family vibes).

There is the whole antagonist side, which could have a few options. The two I thought are obvious, Wen Ruohan or Jin Guangshin as Rasptuin (if it’s JGS then JGY could take the place of Bartok the Bat. A character that helps the villain but could still possibly get redemption? idk I love Bartok and I’d like to see JGY decide his father’s approval isn’t worth it and helps the good guys).

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #ive never posted this sort of idea rambling thing before so please excuse the mess #it took most of my confidence to post//shot #if this has been done just ignore me #I haven't written this much of anything in so long #do with this what you will #long post

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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So if you want can you write a continuation of that AU where NHS dies and NMJ loses it? Anything concerning that AU Bc on one hand I’m curious af about what would happen when NHS is brought back and how everyone is so happy that he’s back bc know NMJ would maybe calm down a little but on the other I really want to know LXC thoughts about this whole disaster?

part 1 here

Lan Xichen waited outside the Cloud Recesses, Shuoyue placed on his lap.

His home was in an uproar: the stories of what had happened in Lanling had come first, chilling the bone, and while they were still trying to decide if they believed it, news came that the Nie army, now swollen with cultivators desperate to use martial valor to escape destruction, was headed in the direction of Gusu. Lan Xichen had asked his uncle and brother to arrange the evacuation of both people and books, as many as possible – they at least had some practice after what had happened with the Wen sect, and sadly, for all of Lan Wangji’s strenuous effort, there were also fewer books to think of.

As for himself, he went to the small clearing down the mountain where visitors always arrived, especially those from Qinghe, and there he sat and waited.

Lan Xichen’s cultivation was extremely high; he did not flatter himself in thinking that in the cultivation world, the number of people who could rival him could be counted on one hand.

Nie Mingjue was the same.

If Nie Mingjue came – no. Lan Xichen should not cloud his mind with illusions. The Nie sect’s army was on its way; the question was not if Nie Mingjue was coming, it was when – and what would happen once he arrived.

If they would fight, and if they did, who would win, and what would happen next.

Lan Xichen still found the entire thing hard to believe. That Nie Mingjue would do such a terrible thing, that he would kill so many people without warning or declaration, without giving them a fair chance to fight back…it went against everything he knew of the man.

Nie Mingjue was not only his sworn brother, but his friend of many years – for the entire time he had known him, Nie Mingjue had always been well-meaning and well-intentioned, upright and righteous, even sometimes too strict with it, unwilling to give allowances for weakness. He’d always wanted to do the right thing. Even when they’d met as children, brought along to observe the sect leaders’ talks during the Discussion Conferences and bonding over the boredom of it, he had always thought first of what he should do, of what was right. Both for himself, and for his younger brother.

They’d bonded over that, too: Lan Xichen had Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had Huaisang.

He didn’t have Huaisang any longer.

That didn’t seem real, either.

Little Huaisang, with his fans and his laziness, his curving eyes as he smiled and the coquettish way he whined about the burden of having to practice his saber – gone, now. Gone forever.

Lan Xichen might have understood it if he’d died during the war. But to have it happen now, now, when they were meant to be at peace…

He still had the first letter he’d received informing him of the tragedy. It was in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting, each line thick with devastation: an accident, he’d said. Nie Huaisang had gotten lost on a night-hunt, ended up somewhere dangerous, an area that unexpectedly contained fearsome creatures that no one had expected to be there, and with his low cultivation…Jin Guangyao had blamed himself for not keeping a closer watch on him, for having allowed him to come along, for all of it, even though it seemed quite clear from the letter that he could not truly be held accountable.

You must tell me how I can break this news to da-ge, Jin Guangyao had written. You do not know how it pains me to think of what this will do to him. He will blame me, as I blame myself – I would not mind it even if he beat me; it would help assuage the pain I feel at what has come to pass on my watch. But you know that da-ge has always been suspicious of me beyond all reason, and there are those who ascribe malice to all of my actions: how can I convince him that this result was not something I desired?

Lan Xichen’s first instinct had been to volunteer to break the news to Nie Mingjue himself. It would be painful, seeing his friend’s heart break – he’d seen so many hearts break during the war, his own not least of all at hearing of his father’s death; there were widows and widowers, children losing their parents before their time and white-haired parents burying their black-haired children, brothers and sisters all…this would have been the worst of the lot. But surely it would be better coming from him than any other?

Surely he would be able to calm Nie Mingjue and offer comfort to his grief; yes, better it be him than yet another pointless fight between his two sworn brothers.

There was a draft letter on his desk, half-written, that told Jin Guangyao to wait for him, that he would come, that he would stand by his side so that he wouldn’t have to explain it alone –

He’d never had a chance to finish it.

Who knew how he’d found out, but Nie Mingjue had come to Lanling to collect his brother’s body the very next day. He hadn’t said anything, ignoring greetings and condolences alike, disregarding all offers for him to rest or eat something to recover his strength; he merely picked up Nie Huaisang’s corpse from the coffin it had been tentatively laid to rest in and walked right back out again.

One report claimed that he hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Perhaps there had been another letter, half-written just like his own, on Jin Guangyao’s desk: laying out his worry at Nie Mingjue’s unusual silence, expressing concern for Nie Mingjue’s health – especially given his temperament, which had lately been worsening – and asking for advice…

Lan Xichen would never know, now. Jin Guangyao’s desk at Lanling was very likely ashes, along with any letter that it might have contained – Jin Guangyao himself, too, was likely…

There was a disturbance in the air, and Lan Xichen raised his head.

A single figure approached, the familiar shape unmistakable.

Alone.

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened for a moment, and then released.

Lan Xichen waited until Nie Mingjue had jumped down from his saber, Baxia obediently returning to his back – his back, not his hand, which he supposed was a good sign, just as coming without his army was a good sign. It meant that there was still room to talk.

Nie Mingjue didn’t do anything after that, though: he did not greet Lan Xichen at all, a minor breach of etiquette that Lan Xichen would have been amused by if he hadn’t heard of far worse breaches by Nie Mingjue lately, not merely of etiquette but even of basic morality, of righteousness itself, of the laws of war that Nie Mingjue had once valued so highly…

Eventually, the silence became too much, and so Lan Xichen spoke first. “You took longer to come here than I expected.”

The stories said that anyone who could have had anything to do with Nie Huaisang’s death was being hunted – anyone who benefited, anyone who stood by and did nothing, anyone related in any way at all. Most certainly anyone who was involved in setting it up.

By that standard, Nie Mingjue should have come here much faster.

After all, it had been Lan Xichen who had urged Nie Huaisang to visit Lanling, knowing that Jin Guangyao wanted to see him, knowing, too, that his sworn brother hoped to use his kindness towards the little brother as a means of appeasing the elder; it was he who had convinced Nie Mingjue to allow the visit, he who paved the path that had led to Nie Huaisang’s dead end –

If Nie Huaisang had truly been murdered, and Jin Guangyao in fact the culprit, the way the stories said – the stories that must be wrong – then the very next one to blame would be Lan Xichen himself.

“We were friends,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen winced involuntarily at the inclusion of the word that meant that it was something that had been in the past, and was no longer.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t angry in the way Lan Xichen would have found familiar: rage that consumed him, yelling and harsh gestures, even breaking things around him. His voice was heavy as stone and just as indifferent, and looking into his eyes – if Lan Xichen couldn’t sense his friend’s overwhelming yang energy, same as it ever was, he might have thought that it was Nie Mingjue who had died instead of Nie Huaisang.

“How sure are you?” Lan Xichen asked, rather than deal with that – with what that meant. With the suggestion that Nie Mingjue would have preferred to spare him, for their past friendship, but that in the end he had decided that he couldn’t.

With the suggestion that it was, in fact, still Nie Mingjue underneath there: the old familiar one, who argued long and loud that principle should be the most important thing – more than friendship, more than mercy, more than anything, except maybe the overriding principles of filial duty and familial responsibility.

It wasn’t some demon who had grown out of a broken heart, some possession or afflicted temperament; it wasn’t even a qi deviation that twisted a good man’s character into something else.

It was Nie Mingjue, who had once been his friend.

“How sure are you that it was him that caused it?” he asked again. It was pointless to argue in Jin Guangyao’s defense one final time, futile, his friend was dead, as dead as Nie Huaisang was, but perhaps it could help him rescue this friend from his madness – or rescue Lan Xichen and his sect from the man’s blade. Nie Mingjue’s paranoia had been worsening recently, along with his temperament, but Lan Xichen had never dreamed it would end up like this. “That it was – that it was intentional, malicious? They say you never asked for an explanation, so how can you be certain that –”

“I am sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “There can be no doubt. Men lie. Sabers don’t.”

Lan Xichen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Huaisang had his saber with him when died,” Nie Mingjue said - explaining, patient, the way he was in the best of times. He didn’t seem like the insane killer that had destroyed an entire sect, and it certainly didn’t seem as though he were about to try to stab him with Baxia.

Lan Xichen might have preferred that. He didn’t know what to do with a Nie Mingjue as indifferent as the dead.

“I told you long ago that the Nie sect buries sabers, not people, and I told you why,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I told you about the saber spirits, how they long to destroy evil…Huaisang was a terrible cultivator, but he’s still a Nie, he still has a golden core, and his saber has a spirit, however weak, that is capable of desiring vengeance. Why would I bother asking a nest of snakes to lie to me? His saber knew what his final moments were like.”

Lan Xichen shuddered, realizing what that meant. “You – saw them?”

“I did.”

“You saw Huaisang die,” Lan Xichen repeated, the horror of it afresh: bad enough that Nie Mingjue’s brother had died – the thought of losing Lan Wangji causing an automatic burst of empathetic pain – but to think that Nie Mingjue had watched, had seen it the way he’d seen his father’s final moments…no wonder the man had lost his mind and morals. “And…A-Yao…you saw him…?”

“We three swore an oath not to betray each other, or to give aid to anyone who did,” Nie Mingjue said. “All of us, the three of us – do you remember? Whoever did so would face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb…do you remember?”

“I remember,” Lan Xichen said.

“I am here,” Nie Mingjue said, and his tone was still indifferent, still like stone, “in fulfillment of that oath.”

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened around Shuoyue. “You blame me.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond, but then, he didn’t need to. It was Lan Xichen who insisted, time and time again, that Jin Guangyao be trusted – it was he who had arranged the entire outing. It had been his idea…at Jin Guangyao’s suggestion, yes, but he had accepted the idea and presented it as his own.

He had done it because he’d known Nie Mingjue would have refused if it had come from Jin Guangyao directly.

Jin Guangyao had known that, too. Had he – on purpose –

No. Surely not. The A-Yao he’d known would never have done that.

But – this wasn’t merely paranoia or dislike, the way he thought it would be based on Jin Guangyao’s fears in his letter. No: Nie Mingjue claimed to have seen it. And whatever he had seen, it had given him the certainty he required to take his saber to the entire Jin sect, man and woman alike, in a night attack of the sort he’d refused to wage even against the Wens, who he hated. A vicious attack, like a dog that had lost all reason.

Lan Xichen didn’t know what to believe.

“I understand your grief,” Lan Xichen said, and he did. If it had been Wangji… “Did you have to kill them all?”

“Kill the chicken to warn the monkey,” Nie Mingjue said simply. “No sect will ever style themselves as the inheritor of the Wens, whether in power or in willingness to – to sacrifice those they see as unnecessary, as a matter of politics.”

“And my sect? Let us say that I would acknowledge my guilt, and set down my sword – must they share my fate?”

“If I had not trusted in the reputation of the Lan sect, would I have believed you and let my enemy through the gates? Would Huaisang be dead now, if not for the renowned truthfulness of the Lan sect?”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes. “If you will not spare my sect, I cannot set down my sword.”

“I’m sorry, Xichen. You had to learn one day that there are things for which an apology is not enough.”

Nie Mingjue genuinely looked saddened by it all; that was the worst of it. It would hurt him to fight Lan Xichen, to kill him; it would stain his soul to kill his sect, who he’d loved almost like a second home.

Still, it was not a surprise. Lan Xichen knew his friend too well: from the moment Nie Mingjue had decided to cast off his righteousness, to lift his saber in revenge, he would never have spared himself the consequences of that decision – that one of the men he’d have to kill would be his own friend, that he would be the one who burned down the Cloud Recesses this time.

The massacre at the Jin sect was an atrocity, but one that could be understood. The rest of it…even Nie Mingjue would never forgive himself for what he was about to do here. He would do it regardless, because he believed it had to be done, and when the work was done, Nie Huaisang avenged in a world filled with blood, Baxia’s last victim would very likely be Nie Mingjue himself.

Lan Xichen didn’t want to see that.

He didn’t know how to stop it, either.

He exhaled, hard, and stood up, unsheathing Shuoyue. “Then we fight.”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said, and Baxia came to his hand; the steel seemed to glow red as if anticipating the blood it would soon draw. Baxia only did that in the presence of evil – it seemed Nie Mingjue’s saber agreed with the man’s assessment of the situation; Lan Xichen had been judged guilty, and sentenced accordingly. “We fight.”

part 3 here

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #yes there will be more of this don't worry #Anonymous #blackened nmj

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