Work Text:
Lan Qiren almost qi-deviated on a normal morning, walking into the library.
He took a moment to calm his beating heart, and then blinked, to make sure he was correct in what he was seeing.
Yes.
Wei Wuxian was indeed sprawled over a desk in the library pavilion, at least three books and several sheaves of paper in front of him.
Lan Qiren blinked again.
He’d known that Wei Wuxian was back at Cloud Recesses, almost a year after the defeat of Jin Guangyao. His youngest nephew had come to tell him the news, eyes shining despite the fear in them. Lan Qiren had quelled that fear by merely humming and pouring tea, for he truly did not hate Wei Wuxian, but he still hadn’t expected to see the boy in the library at - he checked the timepiece nearby - seven in the morning.
He was humming Wangji’s song under his breath, face, hands, and the red edges of his robes all splattered with ink. He flipped through one of the books in front of him.
They were all long, epic-style, recounts of various famous Lan cultivators' nighthunts. Lan Qiren had read them all many times himself. They were filled with valuable knowledge, but none that Wei Wuxian, literal founder of demonic cultivation, would need.
Wei Wuxian scribbled a few characters, and then groaned, tapping his ink-covered brush against his chin and then knocking his head roughly on the desk. The neat Lan cultivator in Lan Qiren flinched at the sight.
He coughed, politely.
Wei Wuxian jumped up, almost upsetting the desk. Both Suibian and Chenqing were by his side, and he gripped one in each hand, as if uncertain of which to use.
He did not let them go even when he saw Lan Qiren.
“Lan-lao!”
Lan Qiren inclined his head. “Wei Wuxian.”
“Uh…” The boy glanced around his workspace. “I’ll clean up when I’m done.”
Lan Qiren held back a scoff, and replaced it with a doubtful hum. “What are you doing?”
Wei Wuxian had the grace to look ashamed, a rare thing for him. “Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan said that as I’d spent the past year night hunting and exploring demonic cultivation alongside a golden core, I should write about it. Make a record.”
Lan Qiren hummed once more. That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Wei Wuxian was perhaps the only reliable expert on demonic cultivation. It could be good to have an understanding of such things, if only to know how to best counter them. He nodded. “Good.”
Wei Wuxian’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t think it’s a bad idea?”
Lan Qiren sighed. He did not have the time or patience to deal with the boy’s poor self-esteem. “It will be a valuable resource. Please make sure the final copy is written in adequate calligraphy.”
Wei Wuxian was grinning. Lan Qiren didn’t find it quite as obnoxious as he usually did.
He watched the smile slide off that annoying face. “I just don’t know where to start…” Wei Wuxian confessed.
Lan Qiren hummed. “You mentioned your golden core?”
Wei Wuxian startled. “Oh! Yeah, when I was thrown into the Burial Mounds for the first time, I didn’t have a golden core. So I had to work out demonic cultivation.”
Lan Qiren nodded. That explained quite a lot, actually. “So start there. Explain what that was like.”
A shadow passed over Wei Wuxian’s face. Lan Qiren had seen that look in the faces of many men returned from wars. He sighed. “Write about the demonic cultivation.”
He couldn’t do this anymore. He turned to leave, completely abandoning the book of poetry he’d originally come for. The sound of brush on paper followed him out.
He paused, right on the threshold. There was one thing that he did need to discuss with Wei Wuxian, while the boy was awake and lucid. “I have not quite forgiven you for hurting Wangji when you left.”
He did not need to specify which time. He meant all of them.
He turned to face Wei Wuxian as the silence continued. The man was gripping his flute tightly, his fist shaking. Tendrils of dark energy swarmed around it. “And I,” he said, shakily, visibly have to force himself to release Chenqing, “have yet to forgive you for allowing them to slice his back open.”
That did make Lan Qiren pause. Wei Wuxian was not exactly wrong in his anger. Lan Qiren could have changed the punishment, made it banishment or eternal seclusion. But he had thought Wangji less likely to survive those, and so he had allowed the strokes. And it had torn their family apart.
He had not yet forgiven himself for that. He did not want Wei Wuxian to know that weakness, and yet -
“I, too,” he said, meeting Wei Wuxian’s eyes. The resentful energy in the room dissipated.
Wei Wuxian laughed hollowly. “Then, in response to what you said: I, too.”
Lan Qiren inclined his head in acknowledgement, and left. Perhaps he and Wei Wuxian would never quite get along, but that did not mean they could not understand each other.
Lan Qiren began seeing Wei Wuxian more frequently in the library pavilion. He was often writing his own work, sheet after sheet of paper consumed by his black-ink scrawl. His calligraphy had not improved since his childhood.
Almost equally often, he was pursuing the works in the library - including its forbidden component - with the same determined and passionate gaze he had had in his youth.
Most often, when Lan Qiren saw him, he was alone. He had only chanced upon his nephew and Wei Wuxian a few times, but it was almost always the same scene: Wei Wuxian, half in Wangji’s lap, reading a text aloud as Wangj’s hands rested somewhere on his body.
Lan Qiren had equal reactions of happiness and discomfort. The latter because they were in public and that was his nephew . The former because the pair were clearly relearning each other, in mind and spirit and body.
From the look on Wangji’s face, his feelings had done the opposite of lessen.
From how Wei Wuxian only truly relaxed when he was around Lan Wangji, his had done the same.
Lan Qiren had worried how such a… developing relationship would affect Wangji’s work as Chief Cultivator, but it did not seem detrimental. His nephew and Wei Wuxian spent most of the day apart, taking meals together when possible, Wei Wuxian’s food stained a truly horrid red. And if Wei Wuxian did not have a guest room in Cloud Recesses, and always left dinners with Wangji, heading towards the Jingshi, where Lan Qiren knew for certain there was only one bed, no one mentioned it.
In fact, Lan Qiren thought, having the troublesome demonic cultivator around might actually be helping his nephew with his duties. The mere presence of Wei Wuxian seemed to make Wangji lighter and less worried, and then there were times like… this.
This being the scene Lan Qiren had found when he had gone to help Wangji out of a diplomatically sticky situation.
Sect Leaders Yao and Ouyang had been there for days, wearing Wangji’s patience thin. They did not seem to have a legitimate complaint, and likewise had no conuptions about holding him back to discuss trivial matters long after his usual sleeping time.
Lan Qiren had found Wei Wuxian sitting outside the doors of the meeting chamber, an incense stick on its last dregs in front of him. He looked at Lan Qiren, and jumped to his feet. Chenqing was held loosely in his grip.
Lan Qiren narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
Wei Wuxian didn’t even look ashamed, and it was so reminiscent of his time there as a student that Lan Qiren almost felt nostalgic.
He gestured to the incense. “When that’s gone, I’m going to go sit on the roof and play Chenqing. Hopefully it’ll scare the robes off those two and Lan Zhan can go get some rest.”
There was a wicked grin on his face, and Lan Qiren couldn’t even bring himself to disagree with the plan. If one did not know that Wei Wuxian had intended to disturb the cultivators, it could almost be seen as accidental. After all, it was not quite curfew, so he was technically allowed to practice his instrument.
He inclined his head as the incense crumbled to ash. Then he turned and walked away from the pavilion again. He would have no part in this.
Behind him, there was a soft thump as Wei Wuxian landed on the roof, and then the haunting melody of Wangji’s song echoed through the quiet of night-time Cloud Recesses. Lan Qiren suppressed a smile. That particular song would not worry Wangji. In fact, he would probably be calmed by it. However, it did still sound eerie, and the other two sect leaders had no idea that it was not accompanied by vicious intent.
Sure enough, there was soon the banging of doors and a few undignified shrieks.
Lan Qiren was almost out of earshot, but he paused briefly to hear his nephew thank the two sect leaders for their time, and say that he hoped to resolve their issue on the next day, but as they had all left the meeting hall, he would be leaving now.
Lan Qiren smiled. There were muffled huffs, the sound of footsteps, and then, cheerfully -
“Lan Zhan!”
He could hear Wangji’s smile in his soft reply. “Wei Ying.”
Lan Qiren left them to it. He hoped Wangji was well rested for the next day. Sect Leaders Yao and Ouyang were not easily silenced.
Due to a teacher’s sudden illness, Lan Qiren was in charge of a group of young disciples, barely seven or eight years old, and leading them in the careful development of their golden cores. It was nothing complicated - stretches and meditation, for the most part - but it was important that their cores developed steadily and strongly.
He was a little shocked when Wei Wuxian bounded down the hill to join them in the meadow Lan Qiren had chosen for that day’s lesson.
The young man stopped, and blinked, and then bowed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know the normal teacher wouldn’t be here.”
Lan Qiren sighed. It seemed he couldn’t stop running into Wei Wuxian around the place. “He is ill. Why are you here?”
Wei Wuxian shrugged, shameless. “I need to develop my golden core, and doing it on my own is boring. And Lan Zhan says that me doing it in the Jingshi is distracting, but I can’t see how.”
He pouted.
Lan Qiren did his very best to not even consider how his nephew, pure and brilliant Wangji, would find Wei Wuxian stretching in soft beams of sunlight ‘distracting’.
He sighed. “Fine.”
Wei Wuxian brightened. He offered high-fives and back-slaps to a few of the students, and Lan Qiren did not fail to notice how well he worked with them, or how dedicated he was to the exercises that they started.
He sighed once more - Wei Wuxian seemed to elicit that reaction. The boy had not turned out badly at all. He was a good person and on his way to becoming a strong cultivator, and he supported Wangji in every way that he could.
Lan Qiren had never seen him as still as he was when completing the exercises, body held into the poses meant to better allow the flow of his qi and his spiritual energy. He was meditating correctly, too, and Lan Qiren failed to hold back a scowl.
Meditating correctly? Holding still for more than an instant? Willingly studying texts in the library? Not provoking Wangji at every opportunity?
Why couldn’t he have been like that as a teenager?
Lan Qiren refused to sigh for the fourth time in one afternoon. He knew why.
Wars changed people. So did events like losing their golden core or killing hundreds of people, or watching loved ones die.
Both Wei Wuxian and Wangji were different to who they had been as children, and that made sense.
Luckily, Wei Wuxian’s stillness did not remain after the lesson. He returned to being his usual bundle of untamed energy and poor ideas, and Lan Qiren did his best not to feel relieved or glad.
Aside from the three lessons he had instructed the juniors in, he did not see much evidence of Wei Wuxian cultivating his golden core.
That was, until he found himself passing the training arena. Wei Wuxian was drilling with the juniors of the group below Sizhui’s age - all thirteen and fourteen years old. They were on their way to becoming masters of the GusuLan style, and from the looks of it, Wei Wuxian was slightly ahead of them.
Lan Qiren smoothed the frown from his face. With the way this was heading, Wei Wuxian would soon be part of the sect. There was no real harm in him learning their movements. Chances were he’d already picked up most of it from Wangji anway.
When they broke for a rest, Wei Wuxian didn’t sheathe Suibian. Instead, he kept drilling, shifting smoothly into moves from YunmengJiang, more choppy and direct than those of GusuLan. Lan Qiren furrowed his brown. If Wei Wuxian could handle his sword for that long without looking exhausted, then his golden core was developing at a truly astonishing rate.
A few of the juniors looked at him curiously, and when they approached, he started showing them the motions. Lan Qiren held back a snort. If only he remembered what trouble his own instructors had had when trying to get him to do anything properly.
And yet… Wei Wuxian was a good teacher. He did not mock or belittle, instead assisting and encouraging and making helpful remarks. Lan Qiren had almost forgotten that he had been First Disciple at Lotus Pier, raised to help lead and train cultivators.
The actual instructor had clearly given up on having control of the lesson - Lan Qiren could sympathise - and was instead copying Wei Wuxian’s moves carefully, taking advantage of the opportunity to learn something from another sect.
Lan Qiren would have thought it careless of Wei Wuxian to share such things, if he hadn’t noticed that all the moves being shown were simple and plain - nothing that would give an advantage more than the basic knowledge that could be gained by watching a master swordsman of YunmengJiang for a short while.
Eventually, Wei Wuxian cajoled one of the juniors into dueling with him. The bout didn’t last long, the junior yielding quickly against Wei Wuxian’s startling speed and superior experience.
Laughing, Wei Wuxian gave him a hand up from the ground, and then turned to face his next challenger.
Lan Qiren watched it progress for a few more rounds, almost stunned by how Wei Wuxian gave each student comments as they fought, about what in their technique could be improved and what was already outstanding. It was the kind of experience that was hard to gain outside of a true battle, and yet Wei Wuxian could see all their flaws and missed opportunities just as easily as Lan Qiren himself could, and was helping Lan juniors with that experience.
Lan Qiren sighed, realising that once again he was standing behind bushes, watching Wei Wuxian. The only things missing were his two nephews. One was working while the other was mourning, but the opposite to how he had first thought they would turn out.
When Lan Qiren passed the training grounds a good hour later, Wei Wuxian was still dueling the last few of the junior troupe. His hair was clinging to his neck with sweat, and there were a few bleeding nicks on his bare arms that he clearly hadn’t had the spiritual energy to heal.
Lan Qiren sighed. The boy, with a newly-growing golden core, had decided to train and fight for upwards of two hours. It was as he had expected of Wei Wuxian.
Wangji arrived in the courtyard in a flutter of white robes and hurried, awed bows from the juniors. “Wei Ying was late for lunch,” he said.
Wei Wuxian laughed. “Sorry, Lan Zhan!”
The juniors looked like how Lan Qiren had felt the first few times - utterly embarrassed at the shamelessness of calling each other by their personal names.
Wei Wuxian flicked aside the final junior, grabbing his sword as it twirled in midair and handing it back to him. “You’ve got a good grip,” he advised, “it just needs to be a bit tighter at times.”
And then, like a moth to a lantern, his attention was back on Wagnji.
“Duel me, Lan Zhan!”
Lan Qiren had another sense of deja vu as the two took up their places in the courtyard. “Like last time?” Wangji asked.
“Yep! Rooftops allowed, until first yield, including passing out.”
Wangji nodded his acknowledgement, and then they were fighting once more.
The juniors were all gaping even as they scrambled to clear the entire ground. Lan Qiren found himself hard-pressed to not join them in their slack-mouthed wonder.
If they had been good together as juniors, with this added experience and time they were brilliant.
Lan Qiren could see as Wei Wuxian flitted through the forms of different sects - the directness of YunmengJiang, the swift precision and grace of GusuLan, even a little of the brutal stances of QingheNie.
There was something else there, and Lan Qiren frowned as he tried to place it. Oh. The stance and a few moves of QishanWen. That should not have been a surprise - Wei Wuxian had lived with a few of them for a while, before his death. Lan Qiren had been wondering where and when Sizhui had started incorporating some Wen-style moves into his own fighting. He no longer had to wonder.
Wangji was fighting as he always did - GusuLan style, refined and perfected. But, as Lan Qiren watched, he could see a few YunmengJiang moves hidden there, likely the product of fighting beside Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian for so long during the war and during their schooling.
Wei Wuxian let out a breathy laugh as he noticed the same moves, dancing backwards across the rooftops. “Lan Zhan! You’ve gotten so good!”
They’d been fighting for a fair while by that point, knowing each other too intimately to be able to surprise the other. Wangji was clearly the stronger cultivator, but Wei Wuxian had ingenuity and many different styles on his side. Wei Wuxian was starting to visibly tire.
Lan Qiren spared a fraction of attention to hope that it wouldn’t end with the same kind of yield it had when they were teenagers - it had been awkward to watch when they were young, and now that they were adults…
Wei Wuxian let out a startled huff as he took the full force of Bichen on Suibian, the sword shuddering beneath the effort. Lan Qiren could tell that he’d poured considerable spiritual energy into the block, to stop the blow from forcing his sword to the ground.
“Lan Zhan!” he said, as if he should be affronted by a normal move in a duel, and then he was swaying.
Wangji caught him as he almost tumbled off the rooftop, and then carried him, sword and all, back to the ground.
“Dismissed,” he told the juniors. “Wei Ying yielded with his collapse.”
Lan Qiren snorted. This was better than watching the two of them exchange heated glances, pressed up against each other on the floor of the training ring, but not by much. Wangji had Wei Wuxian cradled to his chest like he couldn’t bear to let him go. As soon as the juniors left, he sighed and started transferring his own spiritual energy.
Lan Qiren removed himself from his position behind the bushes.
He would have to think about possibly asking Wei Wuxian to lead a few example swordsmanship classes. It would do the juniors good.
With Wangji happy, there was only one worry in Lan Qiren’s heart.
Xichen.
Even before Wangji had returned to Cloud Recesses sans-Wei-Wuxian, Xichen had gone into seclusion. He was marinating in his guilt and damning himself for his obliviousness.
Lan Qiren frowned as he thought of his eldest nephew. Xichen had always seemed aware of his own emotions and clear-headed. Lan Qiren had not thought that he would be the one to follow the sad precedent his parents had set - he had thought that fate would go to Wangji, who was more emotional and impulsive.
But Xichen had followed in his parent’s footsteps, and that lead Lan Qiren up an old and familiar path every two weeks to sit in silence with his nephew.
Xichen had almost forbidden himself visitors entirely, and Lan Qiren had almost let him. But when Wangji had returned to find his brother secluded in the Hanshi, he had knelt outside the door in the softly falling snow until Xichen, tears streaking down his face, had let his brother inside. Lan Qiren knew all too well what the scene had reminded Xichen of.
And so, Wangji visited once a week for an hour, more frequently than he had ever visited his mother and with equal stubbornness. If Xichen refused to open the door and soft sobs could be heard through it, Wangji would pull out his guqin and play. If Xichen opened the door, Wangji would sit inside and play, all soft and soothing and filled with care and love. Sometimes, Lan Qiren would pass the Hanshi to see the two brothers sat in silence, merely taking strength from the company of the other.
When Lan Qiren visited, once every two weeks for an hour, he made sure to bring a tea normally set aside for special occasions, or a well-written report by a disciple, or one of the beautiful landscape ink paintings he had started finding scattered throughout the library. Small things to remind Xichen that the world could still be a beautiful place. Excessive luxury was forbidden, of course, but these were simple and pure. And besides, this was his nephew. It was Lan Qiren’s duty to help him as he could.
And besides, the rules had been part of Xichen’s downfall. Lan Qiren was not blind to that. He had trusted in others freely and always thought the best of them, as he had been told to his entire life, and that had ended up hurting him deeply. Lan Qiren would stand by the rules - he believed them to be true in their guidance - but he could understand that other people did not, and that the interaction between people who did not follow the rules about truthfulness and those who did and assumed all others did seemed doomed to disaster.
Once, Lan Qiren had bought paperwork to work on. He’d hoped that the sight of the everyday runnings of the sect would remind his nephew that there was more than just his grief and self doubt, and would encourage him to take a greater interest in what was going on outside the walls of the Hanshi.
Such a look of guilt had crossed his nephew’s drawn and gaunt face that it had been all he could do from cursing himself. He had never brought such things in again.
Xichen had only agreed to meet with his direct family, and so Lan Qiren had seen Sizhui visiting him a few times, guqin in his hands and a bright smile and stories of his junior friends on his lips.
Sizhui took after his parents. The guqin was Wangji’s influence… and the smile and the tales (not gossip, Sizhui had assured Lan Qiren later) were Wei Wuxian’s.
Lan Qiren was not good at breaking the silence, but Sizhui was fairly adept. He did not just sit in quiet companionship or play music without speaking like Lan Qiren and Wangji did, and Lan Qiren could have sworn that Xichen always looked slightly brighter after one of Sizhui’s visits, like Sizhui’s faith and joy in his friends had reminded him that some people could be good. Not flawless, if Jingyi’s ever-increasing list of punishments was an indication, but still good.
Lan Qiren had been delayed from his normal visiting time by a full day due to a sudden dispute between two of the clans on lands near Cloud Recesses. It was not the first time in the past year that he had been unable to see Xichen at his normal time, but the deviation from routine still rankled him. The necessary diplomacy had worn his nerves thin, but he would not delay his visit to his nephew any longer.
Lan Qiren halted on the path.
Wei Wuxian was sitting at the door of the Hanshi, back pressed up against the wood. Chenqing and Suibian both rested beside him, but his hands were loose and flung carelessly over his sprawling legs. Even from the distance Lan Qiren was at, a steady trickle of noise flowed from him.
Lan Qiren blinked. He had always found silence calming and noise annoying, particularly noise coming from Wei Wuxian, but there was something smooth and flowing about the sound, like that of the cold springs.
Still, there was no guarantee of what he could be saying.
Eavesdropping was forbidden, of course, but this was Xichen . His nephew .
Lan Qiren took a step closer, listening as closely as he could. He still couldn’t make out words. He took another step.
Of course, that was the moment the silence of Cloud Recesses betrayed Lan Qiren. The gravel crunched softly beneath his feet, and Wei Wuxian looked up.
He looked panicked, and immediately bounced to his feet, heading down the path away from the Hanshi but towards Lan Qiren.
“I know Zewu-Jun isn’t taking visitors, but surely there’s no harm if someone walking by decided to rest there for a while! And the Yiling Laozu is a bit…” he gestured towards his own head. “So he talks out loud sometimes!”
Lan Qiren didn’t believe him for a second. “Hmm,” he said, non-committal. He would wait to see if Xichen had been improved or worsened by Wei Wuxian’s non-visit before making a decision.
He nodded politely to Wei Wuxian, then stepped around him and continued on his way to the Hanshi. There was a moment of silence behind him, and then Wei Wuxian let out a loud breath of relief.
Inside the Hanshi, Xichen was sitting cross-legged on the floor, dressed in white mourning robes. The white robes weren’t unusual, but the days when he had struggled to move from the bed were still stark in Lan Qiren’s mind, so he smiled slightly.
Something in Xichen’s lap wriggled.
Lan Qiren’s smile froze.
Then the rabbit stuck its head out from underneath the folded fabric of Xichen’s sleeve, and his smile softened once more.
Xichen was petting the small creature, fingers almost-skeletal but still stroking, softly. There wasn’t a smile on his face, but there wasn’t the pain and anguish Lan Qiren had almost gotten used to, either.
But still… “There’s a rabbit.”
Xichen looked up. He nodded.
“Where did the rabbit come from?”
Obviously, it had come from the warren Wangji tended in the back hills and Lan Qiren pretended did not break the rule against pets, but how had it gotten to the Hanshi?
“It escaped from Wei-gongzi and somehow found its way in through the door,” Lan Xichen said.
It was the most Lan Qiren had heard him say in months.
The rabbit twitched its nose, snuffling lightly at Xichen’s hands as they paused in their patting. Xichen looked down at it softly, and resumed stroking its snowy fur.
So Wei Wuxian had conveniently lost a rabbit into the Hanshi. By accident. It was entirely and completely coincidental that the Hanshi was where Xichen had been confined for months.
Lan Qiren shook his head. Of course Wei Wuxian had done that.
“Was he bothering you?”
Xichen shook his head and poured the tea Lan Qiren had bought this time. “It was…”
He paused, looking surprised even at himself. “It was nice.”
Lan Qiren nodded, picking up the teacup. The rabbit bounded across the floor to nibble at the trailing tassels on his jade pendant.
He could see how such a small thing would help Lan Xichen. It was innocent and small and demanded attention. He would have to eat and drink, if only so the rabbit could as well. Xichen may be able to sustain himself purely through his golden core, but the rabbit would not be able to.
Lan Qiren had long been used to silence, but he thought that it was not what Xichen needed. He took a sip of tea, and then cleared his throat. “Will you name it?”
Xichen’s hand had curled protectively over the rabbit, by then back in his lap, once Lan Qiren had started speaking. His grip softened, and his eyes widened.
Pets were forbidden, but Lan Qiren could let himself believe that following the spirit of the rules, rather than to the letter, was best, and at the heart of the rules was familial duty and caring for others.
Xichen nodded, and then shook his head. “I…” He looked confused. He had looked divided and confused about many things over the past year.
“You have time,” Lan Qiren told him.
They drank their tea. Lan Qiren read some reports by the disciples, conveniently leaving Sizhui’s and Jingyi’s on the table near Xichen.
And then, when the hour had passed, Lan Qiren smoothed a thumb over the rabbit’s white head and left.
He headed for the Jingshi, rapping smoothly on the door. Wangji would still be busy with Chief Cultivator matters at that hour, but he hoped -
Wei Wuxian opened the door. Good.
Lan Qiren cleared his throat. “There are few spots in Cloud Recesses where noise is welcome. The Jingshi and Hanshi may be some of them.”
Wei Wuxian’s worried expression faded into confusion. “What?”
Lan Qiren sighed. “Do be careful not to lose too many more rabbits.”
He nodded slightly to Wei Wuxian, held back a smile at the bewildered expression on the boy’s face, and then left. Behind him, Wei Wuxian called out “Wait! Does that mean I can keep doing that?”
Lan Qiren paused in the path. “Preferably not too much,” he said in the voice long-used to carrying across classrooms and training grounds. “Exercise some discretion.”
It was less than a month before Lan Qiren saw Wei Wuxian outside the Hanshi again, this time just before Lan Qiren’s normal meeting time with Xichen.
The young cultivator did not pause his words as Lan Qiren approached, offering a bow in his senior’s direction. Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if he should call that progress or the opposite. He inclined his head in return.
Wei Wuxian was prattling on about some small village he had passed through on his travels, a place where there was a permanently frozen lake that reflected the moon every night. Once he had finished his long, rambling tale - Lan Qiren did his best to ignore how many times his younger nephew’s smile was mentioned as a measuring stick for beauty - he turned to Lan Qiren and offered a smile. He then held out a sketch - the lake he had been talking about, in black and white, reflecting the glow of a full moon. “Do you think Zewu-Jun would like it?”
Lan Qiren considered the ink sketch. It was beautiful and about nature, yes, two things Xichen could appreciate. There was the full moon in the sky, marking time for family reunion. It was a cold and serene beauty. Lan Qiren did not wonder that it had reminded Wei Wuxian of Lan Wangji.
And there - there were four rabbits playing in the grass beside the pond. A hint of playfulness and warmth.
Lan Qiren held the painting up closer to his eyes. Each rabbit had a forehead ribbon. One of them had a goatee. Another had a stern expression but smiling eyes, as much as a rabbit could, and the third held Sizhui’s brightness. The fourth was surrounded by the other three.
He was tempted to frown and call it a mockery, but there was dedication and care in each of the brushstrokes that had gone into this, a dedication and care that was never present in Wei Wuxian’s calligraphy.
He hummed, and tucked it onto the tray carrying the tea he would share with Xichen that time. Wei Wuxian brightened.
For a young man so good at always wearing a smile, he was remarkably easy to read, especially when he was seeking validation. Lan Qiren passed that off on the time he had spent learning to read his brother and nephews.
Wei Wuxian dismissed himself, and Lan Qiren entered the Hanshi.
Xichen had three rabbits all around him, and Lan Qiren flicked his gaze to the painting.
Xichen looked up as Lan Qiren entered. Silently, Lan Qiren offered him the sketch. Silently, softly, almost cautiously -
Lan Xichen smiled.
Lan Qiren could not suppress his own returning grin. “He is a good young man,” he offered.
Xichen’s smile didn’t fade. “He is good for Wangji.”
Lan Qiren hummed. He had almost expected that to be the case, but everything he had seen had still managed to somewhat surprise him. Wei Wuxian was a strong cultivator, dedicated to redeveloping his own core, was working on developing a book on demonic cultivation, assisted Wangji (in somewhat chaotic ways) with his duties as Chief Cultivator, and had proved himself willing and able to look out for Wangji’s family.
“Yes, he is.”
“He tells me stories about Wangji - about how he smiled when he saw Sizhui return, about how he dealt with Sect Leader Yao, about how he still plays guqin every night. Wangji seems to be doing well.”
Lan Qiren nodded. “Yes, and even better since Wei Wuxian’s return.”
Xichen shook his head. “When Wangji talks, it is always about Wei-gongzi.”
Lan Qiren nodded, his gaze straying to the three rabbits that had curiously approached. Rabbits were not normally so curious or bold.
Xichen smiled again, smaller, a mirror of what his old smile had been, but still there. “Wangji tells me only certain rabbits will tolerate Wei-gongzi enough to be held.”
Of course. Only the boldest, only the troublemakers.
Xichen coughed slightly, his throat unused to speech. He frowned, taking a few measured sips of his tea. “Have they… talked, yet?”
Lan Qiren thought back to the interactions he had seen - Wangji, alight with Wei Wuxian’s presence. Wei Wuxian, exalting in being alive and cared for. Wei Wuxian was shameless, and yet he had not happened upon any of a certain type of shamelessness.
“No.”
Xichen shook his head. “Of course not.” His tone was fond and his eyes were soft. Lan Qiren felt like he was floating. His nephew no longer seemed to be drowning in his own despair.
That had been a good day, Lan Qiren soon found. Xichen had good days and bad days, not even dependent on the days Wei Wuxian talked to him.
But the good days seemed to be getting more frequent, and the bad days less so. Lan Qiren had hope. He had hope, and he had family, and he was glad for it.
Lan Qiren found Xichen and Wangji and Wei Wuxian sitting inside the Jingshi. Wangji was holding Wei Wuxian’s hand.
“Sometimes,” Wei Wuxian was saying, “other people will want to forgive you more than you want to forgive yourself.”
Wangji’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s noticeably.
“And - and you should think about if you trust that, if you trust them. Because they might just be right. It might not have been as much your fault as you think it was. It might not be as hard to live with the pain that will remain as you think it will be.”
“Only family is allowed to visit those in secluded meditation,” Lan Qiren said in lieu of greeting. He could allow some rules to be bent, but not broken like this, not when Xichen was visibly trembling.
Wangji whipped to face him. “Wei Ying is family.”
Lan Qiren sighed. As if that was something they need to fight about anymore. He’d accepted it. “Alright. When’s the wedding?”
Wangji’s glare dropped from his face instantly. His ears went bright pink. “I - I…” He stuttered. Wangji never stuttered. Lan Qiren held back a smile.
“Wedding?” Wei Wuxian asked, a confused look on his face. “There’s going to be a wedding?”
Lan Qiren resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. He took back every nice thing he had ever thought about Wei Wuxian’s intelligence.
Xichen laughed.
Lan Qiren’s annoyance evaporated. It was good to see Xichen finding humour easily. It was good to see them all here, like this.
Xichen’s smile was still on his lips when he spoke. “Wei-gongzi, if Wangji wants you to be family, is there another option?”
Such a succession of emotions flickered over Wei Wuxian’s face that Lan Qiren struggled to follow them. “But -” he said. “But Lan Zhan likes someone! He wouldn’t want to marry me.”
In previous times, Xichen would have closed his eyes and smiled deferencially. In previous times, he would have stepped back and let them continue, oblivious.
But this was not in previous times. “Wei Wuxian, you love my brother, do you not?”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide. “I-”
Xichen shook his head, smiling softly. “You have all but said it, these past months outside my door. Do not think I do not listen.”
Lan Qiren remembered a previous time, in a training ring, when Wei Wuxian had been equally surprised to find a different Lan had actually listened to him. He wondered if Wei Wuxian was equally surprised by how the juniors paid attention to his every word.
Wangji looked… Well. Wangji looked shocked, to say the least. His mouth was not quite hanging open, and his eyes were open and unblinking. The flush had remained on his ears. He did not move, not even as Lan Xichen continued.
“And Wangji loves you. I have found that to be a fact. You cannot refute it.”
Wei Wuxian was still trying to form words. “Lan Zhan?” he asked, voice quavering.
Xichen nodded to them both, noting how their hands were still entangled. In a corner of the Hanshi, a few rabbits nibbled on greenery from inside the small hutch Wangji had built for them.
He turned to Lan Qiren. “Shall we leave them to it?”
For a second, Lan Qiren didn’t understand. There was nowhere to leave to that would give them more than a thin screen’s semblance of privacy.
By the time Xichen was almost out the door, he had caught on. “Are you sure?” he asked his nephew.
Xichen nodded. There was no easy smile on his lips. “I am not who I used to be. I likely never will be. I am still hurt deeply, but I have spent a while thinking and reflecting… and healing. I don’t want to go back to how everything was. I don’t think I could. But a few turns around the courtyard, perhaps reading a few reports… that wouldn’t be a bad place to start, would it?”
Lan Qiren nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “It will be good to see you more, Xichen.”
Xichen smiled at him, and they left the Hanshi to a quiet murmur of “Wei Ying.”
Lan Xichen’s first formal appearance after his seclusion was at his younger brother’s wedding. Lan Qiren couldn’t find it more fitting. He’d been there for them, the whole time, even when Lan Qiren would have strongly protested such a match (like how he once almost had, behind the bushes around the training ring).
But Wei Wuxian had proved himself strong and kind and true, and good for Wangji. Lan Qiren could see that.
The marriage would be good for the sect, too. Lan Qiren watched as Wei Wuxian ruffled the hair of his nephew, Jin Rulan, and traded words with his brother, Jiang Wanyin. There were strong ties there, even stressed by time and war as they were.
And as for the other clan…
Lan Qiren looked over to where Nie Huaisang was watching Lan Xichen great guests. There was surprise on his face, but joy, too. And great, undeniable sadness.
The other clan was not cruel, and it had dealt them enough damage. They were the most politically stable they had been in decades.
Looking at the smile Wei Wuxian drew from his new husband, Lan Qiren couldn’t bring himself to mind that all too much at that moment. The children who had grown up in war were finding their happiness. That was enough, for him. His family.