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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 4

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Summary: A conversation is had with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, and Wei Wuxian's trauma is an issue.

Notes: See end

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

AO3 link

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Wei Ying flagged on the path back up the mountain, his previous bright energy replaced by a sort of trudge. He didn’t flit around, made no mention of catching a new rabbit as he had on the way down. He seemed wrung out, exhausted, simply letting Wangji lead him.

When they arrived back in Cloud Recesses, Wangji brought Wei Ying straight to the jingshi, where they released the turtle into the front pond. It was named, Wei Ying insisted, Tang, for the soup it would never become, and the glimpse of his sharp wit was relieving. Wangji found himself more focused on Wei Ying’s peaceful expression, rather than the turtle that sank into the depths of the pond to hide after its ordeal.

After, Wangji wrapped him in a blanket and played ‘Rest’ and ‘Clarity’ to help Wei Ying relax after the unexpected stress of the morning, then watched him nap.

They had a couple of hours before Uncle and xiongzhang expected Wei Ying, before his formal invitation to the sect, and before Wangji would approach the Jiang siblings for permission to court him. The music helped him, as well, nervousness bubbling in him, though logically he knew there was nothing to justify it—Jiang Yanli had made it clear, in her gestures and facial expressions, that she approved, and though he was uncertain how Jiang Wanyin might feel about it, he knew the young man cared about his brother’s happiness.

Wei Ying had consented to the courtship; that was what mattered, and it added a new layer to the anxiety, a lightheaded sort of happiness that he might have assumed in any other situation was the beginning of illness, it was so strong.

But perhaps love was a sort of illness.

Wangji was relieved Wei Ying seemed to be sleeping better, was eating and putting back on the weight he had lost in the year since his near death. He still looked fragile, curled on the bed, his body gaunt and skin pale. But his brow was unfurrowed as he slept, and good sleep was paramount to healing.

He kept playing his guqin, different songs but always returning to one.

Wei Ying woke after a shichen while he was playing WangXian. Wangji glanced up by chance to find him smiling softly, watching him. Wangji finished the song and stilled the strings before rising to go to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Wei Ying said with a smile, sitting up. “The nap helped.”

Wangji offered a hand, and was gratified when it was taken. He helped Wei Ying up, and then helped him adjust his robes, smoothing any wrinkles.

As it was nearly time to meet with shufu and xiongzhang, they made their way to the hanshi after checking on Tang. The turtle seemed at home, sunning itself on a rock on the far side of the pond. Though it was odd to assign human emotions to a non-human creature, Wangji thought perhaps it looked content.

Xiongzhang answered their knock, opening the hanshi to show shufu waiting at the table with a steaming teapot.

He led them in, smiling and gesturing for them to sit.

Wangji tried not to be nervous, though he clenched Bichen’s textured sheath almost convulsively, a habit he had not quite overcome.

Wei Ying, too, seemed nervous, only barely managing not to drop the teacup shufu handed him. He knew only that their courtship would be discussed, not his status as a disciple of Gusu Lan; Wangji wondered if he should have informed him.

“Wei Ying has consented to a courtship,” he said, deciding to open with that.

“You gifted Mother’s guan as a love token, then,” xiongzhang said, sounding approving.

“My—my guan broke this morning,” Wei Ying admitted. “We- we’re going to get a new one in Caiyi, but Lan Zhan asked if I would wear it always.”

Wangji was delighted to notice the blush on Wei Ying’s cheeks, fetching on his still-too-pale skin.

“We approve, of course,” shufu said. “We also were made aware recently that we were not clear enough about your role in Gusu Lan.”

Xiongzhang pulled a simple box made of rosewood from his sleeve and offered it to Wei Ying, who took it, looking confused.

Inside was a pure white disciple’s ribbon with a light blue embroidered cloud in the center. It was a step above the peripheral disciple’s unadorned ribbon; that he was being given an adorned ribbon was a surprise even to Wangji. He had known Wei Ying would be given a ribbon, but that his denoted his status as higher than peripheral disciples was a clear statement of his acceptance on the part of Gusu Lan.

Wei Ying set the box on the table with shaking hands, glancing up at shufu and xiongzhang speechlessly.

“We should have made it clear from the beginning, and offered this when you arrived in Cloud Recesses,” XiChen told him gently. “Should you wish it, this is your home.”

Wei Ying looked like a startled rabbit, as though he might bolt, his mouth working soundlessly. Wangji reached forward slowly and took his hand, hoping to offer comfort, and was relieved when Wei Ying blinked at him, his eyes clearing.

“But… I’m so bad at following the rules. And you really hated me, xiansheng.”

“You have been following the rules for a year,” Wangji pointed out, not caring to address the latter.

Shufu sighed softly.

“Wei Wuxian, you are brilliant and undisciplined, and during your studies you were quite a bit more exuberant than is thought proper.”

It sounds almost like a rebuke, and Wangji squeezes Wei Ying’s hand.

“You were curious about forbidden topics, and I made judgments based on that curiosity,” Lan Qiren finished. “I was wrong to dismiss you so quickly.”

Even xiongzhang seemed surprised by shufu’s admission.

“Perhaps your exuberance was in part from being out from under the abusive thumb of that woman,” he finished. “Which is completely understandable.”

There was a sheen to Wei Ying’s eyes, and he looked down at his lap, trembling. He seemed beyond speech for a moment.

“No. It just… I was always punished no matter what I did,” he whispered. “I figured if I might as well earn it.”

Wangji ran his thumb against the back of Wei Ying’s hand, hoping to comfort him. Wei Ying looked almost haunted, and he wondered if Madam Yu had whipped him on other occasions, only less severely. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know. Wangji had learned more about abuse in the last year than he ever expected, knew that it likely escalated slowly, starting emotional and slowly normalizing until it was physical.

More realistically, he wondered how often Madam Yu had whipped Wei Ying, how many times he had endured until the last.

Shufu frowned, clearly taking in the new information.

“We intended to offer you a place as a Gusu Lan disciple at the beginning,” xiongzhang said, filling the silence. “I’m afraid we did not make that clear to you.”

A tear broke free and made its way down Wei Ying’s face. He managed a smile, though, one that was so filled with relief it broke Wangji’s heart.

“I guess I’ve followed the rules this long.”

His tone was almost cheeky, and xiongzhang laughed softly.

“You are a boon to Gusu Lan,” shufu said, though he shook his head at Wei Ying’s cheek. “As I said, any sect would be foolish to let go of such a talented young cultivator.”

A distant look passed over Wei Ying’s face.

“You did say that,” he murmured. “You said I would be welcome here. I… It’s hard to remember.”

Xiongzhang looked concerned.

“Do not push yourself to,” he advised.

Wei Ying nodded.

“The healers say my mind is repressing the trauma, that it’s protecting me, but that it can affect me. The memories can pop up, can be triggered.”

He crooks a smile, but it’s tremulous.

“But xiansheng told her off, so that’s a good memory.”

His voice was as tremulous as his smile, and Wangji knew these memories were painful regardless of what he said. Even shufu looked concerned and cleared his throat.

“When you are wed, you will receive a ribbon like Wangji’s, signifying you are a part of the inner Lan clan,” he said, clearly an attempt to distract Wei Ying, one Wangji appreciated.

He was even more pleased when it worked, the tremulous expression disappearing under open-mouthed surprise and elation.

“I’ll… I’ll be inner family?”

Wei Ying’s voice is rough. Wangji remembers suddenly that he was never formally adopted into the Jiang clan, referred to as a ward, often berated as the mere son of a servant by various members of the cultivation world, as though the circumstances of his birth lessened his talent and value. That, combined with constant punishment, had to have tainted his sense of self-worth.

“And you will be my husband,” Wangji added.

The way Wei Ying looked at him then, a tiny, almost dreamy smile gracing his lips, had Wangji clutching Bichen for a different reason—it would be inappropriate to push him against the hanshi wall and kiss him senseless, particularly as they were just beginning their courtship and in front of shufu and xiongzhang.

“That’s the best part,” Wei Ying said softly, and raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss the back of Wangji’s.

His eyes were like hot smoke. Wangji thought he was on fire or might melt, his mind going to the book Wei Ying had slipped in the sleeve of the Tao Te Ching...

Shufu cleared his throat, startling both of them. Xiongzhang, on the other hand, was watching with a little smile. Wangji appreciated that his brother was happy for him, but it was nonetheless embarrassing to have lost himself in front of family.

“Gusu Lan has prepared a betrothal gift for Wangji to present to your siblings,” shufu said, blessedly not commenting otherwise.

“I wish to present it to them today, to formally ask for their blessing,” Wangji added.

A gentle pink blush spread across Wei Ying’s cheeks.

“Am I to be the bride, Lan Zhan?” he asked. “I’m afraid I don’t have a dowry.”

Another wave of heat spread through Wangji’s body, imagining Wei Ying draped in red and gold, lifting a red veil.

“You’ve provided your own dowry,” Xichen replied. “All of those talismans you created, and the ones you will undoubtedly invent in the future.”

“Neither of you are brides,” shufu said. “It will be a wedding of a different sort, but the betrothal gifts in this case are to honor you and make it clear you are valued. Rumors in the cultivation world are often vicious, and it’s best to nip them in the bud by preventing them.”

Wei Ying grimaced at that, and Wangji distracted him by returning the gesture from earlier, bringing their joined hands to his lips to kiss gently. He was pleased when Wei Ying relaxed, smiling at him softly, but he couldn’t help but notice that shufu’s ears had gone red.

“I believe I will accompany the two of you,” xiongzhang said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “It’s fairly clear you will need a chaperone.”

Wei Ying blushed, disentangling their hands, and Wangji could feel his ears were red as well.

“Would you like to put on your forehead ribbon before you go?” shufu asked.

He looked at the box with the ribbon, biting his lip.

“I don’t know the right way to put it on,” Wei Ying confessed softly. “If… I mean, since Lan Zhan’s courting me, can he help?”

Wangji knew without looking, in part from how Wei Ying frowned, that his uncle would not approve until they were officially married. If he knew that just this morning Wangji had combed and styled his hair, he might even be scandalized.

“I would be happy to teach Jiang Yanli,” he said.

It was the right thing to say; Wei Ying lit up.

“Shijie taught me how to… how to do the proper style when I was young.”

His smile turned a little strained.

He was speaking of the Yunmeng Jiang style, Wangji knew, but he had never seen Wei Ying wear it. He suspected this was a delicate topic, one related to the cause of so many of his traumas.

Wangji often disagreed with Jiang Wanyin, but in this case he was of the opinion that lingchi would let Madam Yu off too lightly.

He could tell by the way shufu’s mouth tightened, the way Xichen smiled too widely, that they also understood the implications.

“I see you are wearing your hair in a Gusu Lan style today,” xiongzhang commented, clearly hoping to move the topic lighter.

Wei Ying nodded.

“Lan Zhan helped me, after my guan broke. All… all the rest of mine have… They have lotuses,” he finished in a whisper, looking down at the table.

Xiongzhang closed his eyes, clearly overwhelmed, and shufu stroked his beard, a nervous tic of his. They had been there when Wei Ying was found, had seen the lotuses in the water where he had been weighted down and left to die.

The silence that followed was almost oppressive, and Wangji busied himself topping off their tea just to have a reason to move.

“Perhaps your siblings would be willing to go through your qiankun bags to remove the clothing and other things that have that design,” shufu finally said.

“It would make them sad,” Wei Ying said, his voice small.

That it would upset his siblings made sense; large parts of their childhood had happened among the lotuses, swimming and harvesting them. Wei Ying’s favorite soup was made of them, and Wangji wondered if eating it was difficult for him now, if he showed Jiang Yanli a brave face when she made it while hurting inside, or if he could handle the pods but not the flowers. But they would be more hurt that he felt he had to hide his pain.

“They would prefer to help you,” Wangji pointed out gently. “Knowing would allow them to.”

“They would be more focused on helping you, Wei-gongzi, as they are now,” Xichen added. “It would be prudent to discuss this with them.”

Wei Ying grimaced, but said nothing, instead sipping his tea.

“I can help you speak to them,” Wangji offered.

He was troubled when Wei Ying didn’t cheer up, instead tracing a finger around the lip of the teacup in a pensive manner.

“Wei Ying?” he asked softly.

“You already do so much for me, Lan Zhan.”

Wangji could hear shame in his voice, and he took his hand again. He hated that Wei Ying felt like a burden, hated that he constantly put himself last, that he’d been taught to do so. He had been self-sufficient, trying not to bother others with his pain, until he had nearly died.

If he had been able to hide his near-death, Wangji was certain he would have. That the entire cultivation world knew of it almost certainly weighed on him.

“I will do as much as you need, as long as you need it,” he said. “And I will always want to.”

Wangji didn’t know how to convince him he wasn’t a burden, that his continued existence was a blessing. He could only keep trying to show him.

Wei Ying squeezed his hand, ducking his head and blushing.He could see tears in the corners of Wei Ying’s eyes, and thought perhaps he believed after all.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, my heart can’t take your sincerity! Warn me next time.”

He knew this was Wei Ying’s way of deflecting in a moment of high emotion, injecting levity to try to avoid getting overwhelmed.

“Mn. This is your ongoing warning,” he replied.

A thrill ran through him when Wei Ying gaped at him, looking delighted. He wanted him to have that happiness always.

“Not fair! You have to warn me every time.”

“Not possible. Wei Ying always deserves sincerity.”

“Lan Zhan!”

A fetching blush spread across Wei Ying’s face, and Wangji caught himself leaning closer unconsciously.

Shufu cleared his throat, and Wangji realized he’d forgotten they were not alone for a moment, so focused he had been on reassuring Wei Ying.

But it seemed since he’d met him, his attention was always on Wei Ying. It belonged on Wei Ying.

“Perhaps we should go speak to the Jiang siblings now, to make your courtship official,” xiongzhang said diplomatically.

Xichen seemed amused, a little smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Though we will of course need to arrange for consistent chaperones, as well.”

Wei Ying blushed even brighter than before, and Wangji mentally recited relevant rules. He wanted to kiss those plush lips and the mole under them.

“I would not disrespect Wei Ying,” he said, though truly he could see himself tempted in moments. “But a chaperone would show his worth to the world.”

Shufu made a noise of agreement, stroking his beard.

“Now, more than ever, it is necessary to make that clear.”

It occurred to Wangji then to inform them of the encounter with Madam Jin and Jin Zixuan in the marketplace of Caiyi.

“She wished to keep the purpose of the talismans quiet,” Wei Ying murmured when he was done explaining.

“You accepted her commission, then?” shufu asked, looking surprised.

Wei Ying simply nodded, not offering any other details. He had shrunk in on himself, his posture defensive. Wangji could see that shufu and xiongzhang were concerned.

“Madam Jin mentioned she has dissolved her sworn sisterhood,” Wangji said carefully. “She commissioned talismans to help find Jin Zixuan’s half siblings so she may offer protection and a place in the cultivation world, should they wish it.”

A tremor ran through Wei Ying.

“She said she dissolved it because of what… what happened to me. That she didn’t want…”

Wei Ying choked on his words, and Wangji impulsively pulled him close, holding him as he did when he had finally reached him through “WangXian.”

“She’s going to blame me,” he said weakly. “She will.”

Wangji pulled him tighter against him, almost convulsively. Madam Yu had nearly killed him over something minor comparatively. He could only imagine what was running through Wei Ying’s mind, what memories were being dredged up.

“She will not be permitted in the Cloud Recesses,” xiongzhang said, his voice forceful, angrier than Wangji had ever heard his brother. “You are safe. You will be protected.”

Wei Ying said nothing, only trembled, and Wangji could supply what he was thinking with little effort—he had thought himself safe and protected at Lotus Cove, and it had not been so. How could he possibly feel safe anywhere when his last home turned out not to be?

Seeing him like this was difficult, watching him joke one minute and shake helplessly the next, but some days were like this for Wei Ying. Regardless, it was an improvement over his days of fugue.

“Madam Jin wants the world to know that behavior is unacceptable,” Wangji said hollowly, rubbing his thumb against the nape of Wei Ying’s neck in a way he hoped might comfort him, petting the soft baby hair at his hairline. “She said there needed to be an alternate example.”

Shufu looked intrigued by that, but Wangji kept his focus on Wei Ying. He was surprised to have not been scolded for this transgression, but perhaps his uncle and brother were taking Wei Ying’s mental well-being into account.

“We will speak to her. I assume she and Jin-gongzi will be visiting Cloud Recesses shortly if they are in Caiyi,” shufu said after a moment. “Though gossip is forbidden here, it can be weaponized in the cultivation world.”

Wangji frowned at shufu as Wei Ying’s grip tightened in his robes; he needed no reminder of that. The gossip of the cultivation world had stoked Madam Yu’s bitterness. Wei Ying had lived much of his life under its shadow, and the scars it had left pained him daily.

“Rumors can be turned,” xiongzhang said thoughtfully. “The talisman you will invent for Madam Jin would demonstrate the falseness of prior rumors.”

Such a demonstration would make it clear Wei Ying shared no blood with the Jiangs.

Wei Ying shook his head, still hidden against Wangji’s chest.

“I don’t want to.”

Even his voice trembled, and Wangji’s heart ached. So long ago, they had watched their lantern rise into the evening sky, and he had been awed by Wei Ying’s simple but profound wish, to stand with justice and live with no regrets. What was being proposed skirted the line between justice and revenge. Of course he would be opposed.

“‘Do not sow discord,’” Wangji said softly, ignoring how both his uncle and brother flinched at the reminder they were violating a tenet of Gusu Lan. “Nothing good would come of such a course of action.”

He turned his focus more completely to Wei Ying then, running a hand gently through his hair, humming “WangXian” again softly. Wangji was relieved when he started to relax against him.

“Please accept my apologies, Wei Wuxian,” shufu said eventually.

Though Wangji didn’t know how long it had been since he had spoken, Wei Ying had relaxed almost fully.

“Rumors, whether true or not, have done far too much damage,” xiongzhang acknowledged. “We are humbled by your reminder, Wangji.”

Wei Ying’s grip loosened on Wangji, and he sat back up, still leaning close. He didn’t say anything, but there was a sort of misery in his expression that made Wangji want to pull him back into his arms and protect him.

“I don’t wish her ill,” he whispered finally, his voice hoarse. “Even after everything, I don’t.”

“Wei Ying is righteous,” Wangji murmured, earning a tiny smile from Wei Ying.

So much of his attention was on Wei Ying that until Wei Ying gasped he didn’t realize that both shufu and xiongzhang had kowtowed.

“Our idle words have caused you unnecessary pain,” shufu said, still bowed forward. “I truly misjudged you when you came to the lectures before; you embody the virtues of Gusu Lan.”

“I don’t,” Wei Ying immediately denied. “I break the rules all the time.”

Wangji frowned at him; shufu was not speaking of rules but virtues, and he knew Wei Ying was aware of the difference. He was discounting his own virtue, his inherent goodness, that light in him that had nearly been snuffed out.

“Not the most essential teachings,” xiongzhang said before he could correct him, rising out of his kowtow. “You have the sort of integrity and moral compass that all our disciples should have.”

Wei Ying shrugged slightly, dismissive. Shufu righted himself, frowning.

“Wei Wuxian, perhaps one virtue you must work on is ‘Love and respect yourself.’”

Wei Ying flinched, looking down.

“I will try, xiansheng.”

“See that you do,” shufu replied easily. “I would prefer not to insist you study the virtues, though I will if necessary.”

Wangji wondered if such an exercise would help, if perhaps conversation about the virtues and their history and meaning would help Wei Ying understand what shufu meant, or if he would always doubt his own worth.

“As I am certain Madam Jin and Jin-gongzi will come to visit your sister shortly, we should speak to your siblings now,” xiongzhang said. “They will undoubtedly greet shufu first, so we have some time.”

Nervousness fluttered in Wangji’s stomach, but he helped Wei Ying stand when xiongzhang rose. Wei Ying picked up the box with his forehead ribbon with a sort of reverence.

Before they could move to properly bow to shufu and leave, there was a knock on the hanshi door.

“Enter,” shufu called.

One of the peripheral disciples, from his unadorned ribbon, came in and bowed.

“Jin-furen and Jin-gongzi have arrived at the Cloud Recesses and seek audience, xiansheng. They are being escorted here now.”

Shufu nodded.

“I will prepare tea. Please accompany Xichen, Wangji, and Wei Wuxian. There are several baskets to carry.”

He gestured toward a screen, behind which presumably were the betrothal gifts. The disciple bowed.

“Yes, xiansheng.”

Wei Ying shifted nervously as the baskets were brought out, all decorated in red ribbon and draped in red veil-like material to hide the contents from prying eyes. Wangji squeezed his hand. They would be together for this, and for all things to follow.

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This chapter was difficult and went places I didn’t entirely expect. Initially I thought it would get through the betrothal meeting, but Wei Wuxian’s trauma reared up and was important to explore. In the novel canon, Madam Yu has whipped him before the incident with Wang Lingjiao, but she whips no other Yunmeng Jiang disciples. Meanwhile, in CQL canon it seems to be an act that is completely shocking to Jiang Cheng, while Wei Wuxian accepts it as necessary for political reasons.

The Gusu Lan forehead ribbons here are kind of a meld of CQL and novel canon. Inner clan in the novel wear the embroidered ribbon, but in CQL there seems to be three levels, as Lan Wangji is shown wearing the metal cloud ribbon as a child and both Jingyi and Sizhui wear ones with an embroidered cloud, while some other disciples have unadorned ribbons. Technically, Wei Wuxian should probably have a plain ribbon, but here Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are making a statement.

Yes, frankencanon. The rule about sowing discord is from CQL according to Unforth’s “A Compiled List of Known Lan Clan Rules.”

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