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Lan Qiren calls them both for dinner one night. It's not wildly out of the blue, but official family dinners do tend to be infrequent, since Wei Wuxian has trouble sitting still or staying quiet and Lan Qiren, while not exactly homicidal towards Lan Wangji's husband anymore, still finds his blood pressure stays at a much healthier level when they see each other infrequently.
Tonight, oddly enough, Wei Wuxian seems to be doing just fine. He'd returned home to the Jingshi in the wee hours of the morning following what was, Lan Wangji deduced when he was awoken by an excitedly rambled story and a far too energetic blow job, a thoroughly thrilling night hunt. So Wei Wuxian is just the right level of sleepy and satisfied this evening to sip his tea quietly, per Cloud Recesses' rule, and only occasionally trail his fingers over Lan Wangji's thigh.
It's Lan Wangji who's itching to finish dinner quickly today. He's overrun with work this week, papers piling up on his low wooden desk at home, official requests flying in via messenger almost as fast as he can delegate to his advisors and secretaries, and he still hasn't had time to reciprocate his husband's late-night ministrations. Lan Wangji wants nothing more than to head home, finish the sternly worded letter he's writing to a headstrong chief of a nearby village who has some trouble with warring spirits brewing, and then tie Wei Ying to the bed and wring pleasure out of him until he feels the man has gotten his just due. (This will never be reached. Wei Wuxian deserves more than any man could give in one lifetime. In more than one lifetime. Still, Lan Wangji is determined to pay that debt.)
But Lan Qiren is dragging out dinner, calling for another round of tea even after their food is finished and the dishes removed from the table. He talks through the latest news from Caiyi, the progress on construction of new training grounds, the upcoming conference to be held in Lanling this summer. He's asking after Lan Wangji's thoughts on the newest class of disciples when Lan Wangji cuts in to ask, edging so close to rudeness that even Wei Wuxian blinks in surprise, "Is there something in particular you wanted to address with us tonight, Uncle?"
Lan Qiren unfolds his hands and flicks his sleeves back in one elegant motion, then sets a level gaze on the pair of men across from him.
"Wangji, I wish to speak to you about your head disciple."
Wei Wuxian's sleepy calm dissipates instantly, his back gone rigid and his glare matching Lan Wangji's next to him.
"Do you have some complaint about Sizhui," Lan Wangji asks, a firm hand on Wei Wuxian's wrist cutting off his husband's cry of protest.
"Certainly not," Lan Qiren says, and the pair relax, but only just. "Sizhui is a model cultivator, and has earned the respect of wise men. In the Cloud Recesses and beyond."
Lan Wangji gives Wei Wuxian's wrist another squeeze as the man huffs out a pleased breath. Yes, he thinks, and like always, suspects his husband can understand him through touch alone. Uncle is noticing our son. The world is noticing our son. As they should.
"There are still many years until my grandnephew will need to step into his place at the head of our sect," Lan Qiren continues, "but it seems… unfair, to ask him to do so without support."
"What do you mean, without support," Wei Wuxian asks, voice sharp enough to make Lan Qiren's face tighten at the lack of restraint. Lan Wangji does not correct his husband, his own eyes gone narrow again at the comment.
"The Head Disciple will never lack for support while I remain alive." Lan Wangji says, voice steel.
"A boy needs more than old men looking over his shoulder, judging his choices," Lan Qiren says in return. "You and your brother have each other. Your... husband... grew up around siblings in Lotus Pier. I simply wished to voice my concern that Sizhui has no sibling to stand behind him as he steps into his role in the future."
Lan Wangji goes silent, confused. Wei Wuxian snorts a deeply impolite laugh.
"I'm sorry, are you telling us it's time to have another baby?"
Lan Qiren's mouth tightens further, and he takes another sip of tea instead of replying.
"Ah, but bringing little A-Yuan into the world was so hard already," Wei Wuxian jokes, pouting shamelessly at Lan Wangji. "Maybe this time I should go dig a baby up from the radish fields? Fish for one in the cold springs? Childbirth is difficult on the body, after all."
"Lying is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses," Lan Wangji says, giving Wei Wuxian's wrist a fond squeeze.
"How could you accuse me of lying, husband," Wei Wuxian replies, the back and forth familiar, a touch too intimate for their current company. But Wei Wuxian has always been shameless about his husband.
"Don't be ridiculous," Lan Qiren interrupts sharply, going red when Wei Wuxian's laugh cuts through the room again. "Surely you can repeat the process you used with Sizhui."
"Repeat... the process," Wei Wuxian asks, confused. "Wait. Do you think I birthed little A-Yuan myself?"
Lan Qiren purses his lips. "I don't know the specifics and I don't want to know them, but surely you can just do it again. For the good of the sect."
Wei Wuxian laughs the entire walk back to the Jingshi that night, voice ringing clear over the chill night air. Lan Wangji's face is implacable as always, but anyone who knows him well would see his eyes dancing in time with Wei Wuxian's joy.
—
Upon further investigation it turns out that, actually, quite a few people seem to think they'd pulled A-Yuan out of the air one day, whole cloth.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have taken their lunch break today as an excuse to get some fresh air near the training grounds, where Head Teacher Junfeng is supervising a group of baby-faced students, just starting to work on talisman use. Wei Wuxian has clearly been bursting at the seams to share last night's hilarious conversation with someone else, because he launches into the story of Lan Qiren's suspect understanding of where babies come from almost as soon as they reach the teacher. Junfeng is a kind man, more indulgent than most towards Wei Wuxian's un-Lanlike enthusiasm, and he listens intently as the children run around the training fields below, shooting gusts of air every which direction while the three men watch over to make sure no one gets too seriously hurt.
"That's very interesting" Junfeng says, as Wei Wuxian's story comes to an end, pausing before he politely asks, "but... was Elder Lan incorrect?"
"Wha...?" Wei Wuxian asks, confused, before he has to jump forward to catch an undersized eight-year-old who has tossed himself six feet in the air trying to use two wind talismans at once.
Lan Wangji watches as his husband darts around trying, surprisingly successfully, to calm the chaos of twenty children who've just seen their classmate shoot through the sky like a New Year's firework. After a few moments, his heart light at the gleeful cheers still echoing around the training grounds, Lan Wangji heads back to his offices alone, unable to justify delaying his endless line of meetings and letters any longer. As he walks across the grounds, he is certainly not laughing to himself. Or, if he was, no one in Gusu would be brave enough to say so.
—
The misconception is, perhaps, understandable, Lan Wangji thinks as he watches his son run through sword drills with his fellow disciples later that week, under Wei Wuxian's watchful eye.
He and Wei Wuxian have never told anyone the actual place A-Yuan came from. (They can't. They don't believe he would be killed by an angry mob at this point, but… it's not worth the risk. It's never going to be worth the risk, Lan Wangji thinks, his stomach clenching as he watches his son walk past in pristine Lan robes, Wei Wuxian bouncing along beside him, occasionally reaching over happily to muss up A-Yuan's hair.)
Wei Wuxian is half teaching the young men around him, half working Suiban through the exercises himself as he stretches the nascent golden core of his new body.
Lan Wangji looks over the field and thinks to himself that everything he needs is right here, safe in front of him under a blue Gusu sky.
Lan Jingyi is also here, he's reminded, when the boys have sat down under a copse of trees for a midday break, and Jingyi's voice rings through the air, whining at Wei Wuxian to tell them a story. "Do the ghost tiger one again," one boy asks, but is cut off by Jingyi's fervent request for "The Sizhui one. Do the Sizhui one!"
Lan Wangji watches his son flush red, but the other boys quickly join Jingyi's call, and soon Wei Wuxian is smirking and starting to speak. Lan Wangji hasn't heard this story before, for all it seems familiar to the group, and soon he's stifling his own laughter as Wei Wuxian spins an elaborate tale of journeying through an underground labyrinth of radish roots to find young Lan Yuan and pluck him from the soil, carrying him back to the Cloud Recesses in an old basket.
"Senior Wei, please," Sizhui implores, face still red, but he looks pleased under the embarrassment, grinning as Wei Wuxian passes him a flask of water and tells the group it was the best harvest in a thousand years.
"I wish I had been plucked from the soil by Senior Wei," Jingyi says with a romantic sigh. Sizhui laughs and shoves him in the arm, like Jingyi's told a funny joke, but Lan Wangji has a sneaking suspicion the boy fully believes the story is true.
—
There are still many evenings when Sizhui joins his parents at the Jingshi, sitting down for a familiar dinner, spending a comfortable few hours practicing guqin or just sitting in quiet conversation on the front steps as the sky grows dark. But over the past year, those nights have become less frequent, Sizhui growing less desperate to spend every possible moment with Wei Wuxian as he grows more confident the man isn't going to disappear into the night again.
Sizhui is also getting busier and busier with sect business - night hunts, training trips with the newest set of juniors, diplomatic visits to Carp Tower and Lotus Pier. It's part and parcel with being groomed for future leadership, and Sizhui is blossoming under the new responsibilities. Sometimes, though, Lan Wangji can't help but look around his familiar home and recall the rush of little footsteps across the floor, the clumsily careful way tiny A-Yuan used to put his toys away when Lan Wangji told him it was time for a bath and bed.
It is not right to dwell in nostalgia, Lan Wangji firmly reminds himself whenever his mind starts drifting down a well of bittersweet memories. He finds himself letting out a small sigh tonight, though, before he's able to reign in his excess emotions. And Wei Wuxian has never needed more than that to see straight through Lan Wangji's defenses.
"Lan Zhan, what's wrong," Wei Wuxian says with a whine, moving over to plop gracelessly down next to him, body a warm weight at his side. "Is it my mess again? Because I told you I just need to figure out one last thing and then I'll clean it all up, I promise. And the ink stain won't be too hard to get out, probably."
Lan Wangji looks over at the mess of parchment and brushes Wei Wuxian had been working feverishly on in the corner. He can't see an ink stain anywhere, which is… more worrying, somehow. He's distracted from wondering just what will need to be replaced this time, when Wei Wuxian buries his face in Lan Wangji's neck and starts biting a line of sharp kisses down towards his collar bone.
"Lan Zhan, let this devoted husband make it up to you," he whines, and Lan Wangji cannot believe he is aroused by this, heat curling in his belly as Wei Wuxian nuzzles in closer. Like he's trying to climb into Lan Wangji's very soul.
"It's not the ink," Lan Wangji says.
"Then what is it, husband?" Wei Wuxian asks. Lan Wangji shivers as he feels a hand sliding up his thigh. "C'mon, Lan Zhan. Let me tend to my marital duties. Sizhui's not here tonight, after all."
Lan Wangji goes tense for a moment, and Wei Wuxian pulls back, eyes too knowing for Lan Wangji's comfort.
"Ah, is that it. Are you missing our boy? He'll be back by the end of the week, you know. He's just in Lanling. We'll have to make him stop by for dinner so we can cleanse him of any corrupting influence from that nephew of mine."
"Sizhui would never be corrupted," Lan Wangji says. He tightens a hand around Wei Wuxian's wrist and pulls the man more firmly into his lap. Wei Wuxian goes willingly.
"Huanguang-Jun is right, of course," Wei Wuxian says, the teasing obvious under his deferential tone. "Sizhui is such a good influence on my bratty nephew. They'll never learn how to have a proper teenage rebellion at this rate."
Wei Wuxian pauses, then asks, "Are you worried about A-Yuan?" His voice is still light, but it's lost its teasing tone now. This question is sincere, and Lan Wangji realizes he has worried his husband for real, at least a little bit.
"Not worried," he says, and buries his face in Wei Wuxian's hair, unable to say this out loud if he has to look into his husband's eyes. "Just. Thinking about when he was small."
"Ah," Wei Wuxian says, the single syllable carrying enough understanding that Lan Wangji can finally unclench. He won't have to get into more detail now. "I miss our tiny A-Yuan too. I wish I could have seen him here," Wei Wuxian says. There's sadness in his voice, but he's able to talk about it these days. The years he missed. The moments he'll never get back. "Ayah, and now everyone is telling us to make him a sibling. Like we could, if only we try hard enough."
"Would you like more children?" Lan Wangji asks, because there's something under Wei Wuxian's light tone. An unfamiliar hint of wistfulness Lan Wangji hasn't heard before. He is unsure what answer he is hoping for, but he feels he has to ask.
"I hadn't thought about it, really," Wei Wuxian replies after a moment. "I have Lan Zhan and A-Yuan. Why would Wei Ying need more than that? But... it would be nice, wouldn't it? To have another little radish running around the Jingshi. Someone else for Lan Zhan to mercilessly spoil."
"Did not spoil A-Yuan."
"Lying is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses," Wei Wuxian says in his best Serious Huanguang-Jun voice, thinking of the chests upon chests of toys they still have stored in the back rooms of the Jingshi.
"Anyway, it's not like we can actually make a new sibling for our precious A-Yuan." Wei Wuxian pushes himself up and slings his other leg over Lan Wangji's thighs. His eyes go dark, hands sliding down the loosely tied front of Lan Wangji's sleep clothes. "Though we can certainly try our best." He squirms in Lan Wangji's lap at that.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji hisses, as the words send an unexpected shiver down his spine. Wei Wuxian's eyes go big, then a smirk crawls across his mouth as he wriggles in Lan Wangji's lap again.
"Er-gege, do you want to make a baby with me?" Wei Wuxian asks. He bites his lip, and Lan Wangji feels a fire light in his belly as he stares at the flush of red and Wei Wuxian's lidded eyes.
"I am ready to do my duty for my husband," Wei Wuxian continues, and that is enough. That is too much. Lan Wangji finds himself standing, Wei Wuxian still in his arms, laughing as he is lifted across the room and dropped unceremoniously on their bed.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian cries brightly, but Lan Wangji is too busy pulling his robes aside, tangling with ties until finally his husband's clothes fall to the side and his hands can travel over flushed skin and smooth muscle.
Wei Wuxian sighs as Lan Wangji captures his mouth, breath hot and ragged between them before Lan Wangji pulls off with a final bite at flushed lips and moves downward. He stops at Wei Wuxian's taut stomach, muscles fluttering under his tongue as he explores the smooth skin, the smattering of hair under his belly button, leading down to his growing hardness.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian cries again, voice breathy and shot now, hips bucking before Lan Wangji pushes them down firmly, holding him against the bed, possessive. His Wei Ying.
"Do you want me pregnant, er-gege?" Wei Wuxian whispers, still too coherent for Lan Wangji's liking. "Ripe with your child."
Lan Wangji growls, and to his dismay it's only partly at Wei Wuxian's horrifying question.
"Ripe?" Lan Wangji hisses, trying desperately to sound annoyed. To cover up his rush of arousal at the image of Wei Ying, belly large, glowing with pregnancy.
Wei Wuxian laughs brightly and Lan Wangji knows he hasn't been successful.
"Please, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says as he fumbles at the side of the bed for the small bottle of oil they keep at hand. "Fill me with your seed."
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji replies, in his most what the fuck, Wei Ying voice.
Wei Wuxian cackles with laughter, even as he uncorks the bottle with a flick of his thumb and presses it into Lan Wangji's hand.
Before he and Wei Wuxian finally came together, after so many years, Lan Wangji could not have imagined... intimacies like this involving so much laughter. It's something he wouldn't trade for the world now, but he doesn't have to let Wei Wuxian know just how much he craves that familiar mix of annoyance and lust. Frivolous joy and unfathomable depths of desire.
(He suspects Wei Wuxian knows perfectly well. Has been waiting a lifetime for Lan Wangji to catch up.)
Lan Wangji tips the bottle over, spilling cool oil on his fingers, letting it drip messily across Wei Wuxian's bare chest. Wei Wuxian cries again as Lan Wangji keeps one hand firm on his hip, trailing the other up Wei Wuxian's strong thigh, sticky with sweat and trembling with need.
"You want me to fill you," Lan Wangji asks, fingers seeking purchase between Wei Wuxian's legs. He pushes into the tight ring of muscle, just as Wei Wuxian opens his mouth, and whatever retort was on his tongue is lost to a groan.
Lan Wangji takes Wei Wuxian's hardness in one hand, grip firm as he opens him up with his other, slips a second finger in alongside the first.
He holds him there, one hand pinning Wei Wuxian to the bed, the other exploring his slick heat slowly - more slowly than either of them can really bear. It's a game of who will break first, and tonight Lan Wangji wins as Wei Wuxian finally sobs, voice ragged, "Please, Lan Zhan. I need you."
"To fill you..." Lan Wangji says again, tongue testing the phrase and finding it. Good.
Before Wei Wuxian can respond, Lan Wangji has pulled his fingers out, dragging his hand through the spilled oil on Wei Wuxian's chest before slicking his own hardness and moving between Wei Wuxian's still trembling legs.
Wei Wuxian gives a desperate cry as Lan Wangji pushes in, just breaching the tight resistance before he stops. He holds himself so, so still for just a moment. Meets Wei Wuxian's eyes, his pupils blown and mouth slack with need.
"Please," Wei Wuxian whispers again, and Lan Wangji has never been able to deny him this. He drives forward, one smooth thrust into Wei Wuxian's tight heat. It feels like he is coming home.
They move together, Wei Wuxian sweat-soaked and beautiful under him, rocking his hips up to meet Lan Wangji's thrusts. Wei Wuxian wraps his legs around Lan Wangji's waist, dragging him in closer until they almost are one body, time losing all meaning in the heat-sweat-thrum of their heartbeats. Lan Wangji lets a hand scramble across Wei Ying's body. Finds himself resting his palm on Wei Ying's stomach, wondering if he could feel himself inside, if he pays close enough attention. Wonders if his fingertips would sense it, if he released inside Wei Ying like this.
"Are you imagining it," Wei Wuxian asks, meeting Lan Wangji's eyes with a too-knowing quirk of his lips. Lan Wangji does not have to ask what Wei Wuxian means. He flushes even deeper, embarrassment mixing with exertion mixing with desire at the thought of his own heat filling his husband. At imagining new life growing within him.
Wei Ying's hips surge as he clenches around Lan Wangji once more, and Lan Wangji is lost, shaking as he releases himself with a final thrust deep into Wei Ying's body. He has just enough awareness left to feel Wei Ying's hand moving furiously between them, his body still vice-tight around an over-sensitive Lan Zhan as he shakes and cries, a rush of liquid warmth spreading between them.
Lan Wangji stays where he is for a moment, overstimulated body still pulsing out the final dregs of his pleasure. Wei Ying solid and warm in his arms.
Finally, he convinces himself to slip out, Wei Wuxian giving an overwrought pout at the loss of connection. Lan Wangji looks down, where he can see some of his release dripping out of Wei Wuxian, down his thigh and onto their bed. It should feel filthy, but there's a chorus of mine mine mine running through Lan Wangji's mind, drowning out every other thought.
Before he realizes what he's doing, Lan Wangji has run a hand through the mess, scooping it up with two fingers and pushing it gently back into Wei Wuxian's still trembling body. Lan Wangji trembles as well, as he hooks his fingers inside, feels Wei Wuxian pulse around him.
"Yours," Wei Wuxian says, voice all breathless laughter, and Lan Wangji realizes he must have been murmuring his thoughts without realizing.
"Do you think it worked, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian asks after a moment, once he has caught his breath. He lets his legs fall wider, giving Lan Wangji more room to explore the mess he made. Lan Wangji tries to feel shameful, and can't quite manage it.
"Did er-gege get me pregnant?"
Lan Wangji feels his body give another desperate twitch, too wrung out for a second round right now but trying its best despite it all. He hopes Wei Wuxian hasn't noticed, but knows it is a lost cause when the man crows, eyes sparkling with laughter, and rolls himself over to tangle his limbs with Lan Wangji's. Lan Wangji suspects he is not going to live this down. He finds he doesn't much mind.
"Oh gege. It's okay, if it didn't take this time. You can definitely try again. And again and again and again...."
Lan Wangji kisses Wei Ying to shut him up. It only mostly works.
—
Their sex life gets even more frequent and... creative over the ensuing months, which is saying something because they already run through a full stack of silencing talismans most weeks. Thank the gods Wei Wuxian is so adept at creating them on his own, so they don't have to empty out the clan storeroom. Lan Wangji does not wish to field any questions from the disciples who keep it stocked.
When a well-meaning secretary asks if they are hoping for more children during a routine stop by the administrative offices, Wei Wuxian cheerfully replies "Lan Zhan and I are working very diligently on it!"
Lan Wangji nearly breaks the precept against running in the Cloud Recesses as he exits the room, leaving a confused secretary and a very amused Wei Wuxian in his wake.
—
Lan Wangji goes looking for Sizhui one day. There's a new diplomatic message from Lanling and he wants to put the boy in charge of Gusu Lan's response. Plus, Lan Wangji needs to ask after Sizhui's latest night hunt with a fresh crop of disciples, just starting to stretch beyond Gusu's borders with their newly developing skills. He doesn't find him in any of his usual haunts, though. The library is empty, as is the dining hall. The training grounds have a laughing Ouyang Zizhen and Lan Jingyi, who fall silent a few seconds too late when Lan Wangji stops by, but there's no Sizhui in sight and the pair don't know where he's gone.
Lan Wangji is headed to the Jingshi to check if Sizhui has stopped to see Wei Wuxian when he hears children's laughter and a very patient "Hold them by their tummy, see? You want to make sure they're supported."
Lan Wangji turns and heads towards the rabbit copse, where his son is kneeling down in the grass, carefully helping a very small child cup his hands under a bunny's soft belly, while a second, equally small child peers over his shoulder at the procedure.
He allows himself to watch for a moment, before Sizhui looks up and Lan Wangji knows he's been caught. Sizhui - very carefully - guides the child in question to sit and places the rabbit in his lap with a pat before he jumps to his feet.
"Hanguang-Jun!" he says eagerly, but in hushed tones so as not to disturb the rabbits around them. "Were you looking for me? I apologize if I made you go out of your way."
"Hm," Lan Wangji replies, which he knows Sizhui will take as the it was no trouble that he means. Behind Sizhui, the little boy has joined the little girl (her brother, perhaps? There is a resemblance) on the ground, and more curious rabbits have begun to nose their way into the children's laps.
"Senior Zhao received an urgent message from relatives and had to rush off, but couldn't take A-Nen and A-Zhan with him. I said I'd watch them for the morning! I know I have trainings to lead this afternoon, so Senior Wei should be coming by to take over very soon. I didn't want to leave them all alone, though."
Sizhui finishes with a fond look at the children, who are now flopped on the ground, giggling wildly as rabbits meander over and around them. "A-Nen, help your brother hold the rabbits like I showed you!" Sizhui calls, when A-Zhan makes a grab for one very offended bunny's tail.
"Did you need me for something, Hanguang-Jun?" Sizhui asks, turning back and schooling his face into his serious disciple expression.
"Letter." Lan Wangji holds out the parchment roll. A discussion of the recent night hunt can wait until later.
"Oh, it's from Jin Ling!" Sizhui says, face growing bright as he takes the scroll and inspects the seal.
"Come discuss it with me this evening," Lan Wangji says. "There is no rush."
"Yes, Huanguang-Jun," Sizhui says with a bow. Then, softly, "Do you have a moment?"
Sometimes Sizhui sees through him too easily, Lan Wangji thinks as he turns back towards the two giggling children, remembering the days when that was Sizhui letting little rabbit feet commandeer his lap and arms. "I have some time," he answers, in a moment of indulgence.
They watch the children play in comfortable silence for some minutes, the type of quiet that defined much of Sizhui's childhood. Lan Wangji wonders if, perhaps, his son had missed out on something important without the rush and noise of a larger family around him.
"Does Sizhui regret being alone as a child?" Lan Wangji asks, voice quiet, but he knows the boy heard by the way his posture goes taught and perfect.
"Sizhui was not alone," he replies firmly. Lan Wangji is more relieved than he anticipated to hear him say it. Still.
"Perhaps Sizhui should have had siblings of his own."
"Hmm," Sizhui responds, and Lan Wangji can hear his own influence in the careful contemplation. "There were always other children at classes, and around the Cloud Recesses," Sizhui says.
Lan Wangji doesn't say that the other children hadn't always been so kind to young A-Yuan. Not at first - a new classmate who arrived with no mother and a tenuous connection to the reclusive Second Jade of Lan. The day Lan Wangji had walked by the schoolhouse yards to collect a seven year old A-Yuan and saw him gleefully playing swords with an equally tiny Lan Jingyi, both boys clutching sticks in their outstretched arms, had been one of the few true bright spots of the years after he left seclusion.
Sizhui takes a breath. "Huanguang-Jun gave me everything I needed when I was young. I wish Senior Wei had been there as well but… I had a happy childhood."
He pauses for a moment, smiling at the pile of children and rabbits in front of them.
"A sibling would be fun, though, I think."
"Hm," Lan Wangji hums again.
"Wah, this looks like a serious discussion," comes a too-loud cry from behind him, and both Lan Wangji and Sizhui turn to see Wei Wuxian approaching at a stroll, half eaten sesame bun in one hand. "Were my beautiful Lans discussing EMOTIONS?"
He cackles equally loudly at his husband and son's matching attempts to hide their fondness under adorable scowls.
—
Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian about his conversation with Sizhui that night, lying in bed still sticky with sweat, body aching from the good kind of exertion.
"My A-Yuan wants a sibling?" Wei Wuxian asks. His voice is light, but Lan Wangji sees a hint of sadness behind his eyes before he hides his face in the curve of Lan Zhan's neck.
"A-Yuan is very lucky to have you as a father," Lan Wangji murmurs into Wei Wuxian's hair, "and we are very lucky to have A-Yuan. That is enough."
—
Lan Wangji idly hopes Wei Wuxian has put the thought aside, but he should have known better. Wei Wuxian has never put a thought aside in his life.
So Lan Wangji's rare day off is interrupted later that week when he wakes from a pleasant afternoon rest to find Wei Wuxian sneaking out of the house, bundle of purloined library books under one arm, a suspiciously lumpy bag under the other, and a half eaten apple clenched in his mouth.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says firmly, and the man stops in his tracks, one leg raised in a comically overdramatic tiptoe.
"Mmf?" Wei Wuxian replies around the apple. Lan Wangji walks up and plucks it from his mouth, leaving Wei Wuxian spluttering.
"What are you doing?"
"I was having a snack? Until you stole it from me. You should have told me you were hungry, Lan Zhan."
Lan Wangji gives the books and the bag a pointed look.
"I'm... making new talismans?"
"Wei Ying."
"I was making new talismans? And now I am... experimenting with life force spells?"
After several more minutes of Lan Wangji staring as Wei Wuxian elaborates in drips, it turns out that Wei Wuxian, who would move mountains for his son without a second thought, is sneaking off to experiment with what can only be described as baby creation spells.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says sharply, when he finally wrestles the full truth out of his husband, who is currently explaining exactly why he's super sure this won't end in a horrifying homunculus or with someone in qi deviation from breaking the laws of the gods and nature. Again.
Wei Wuxian snatches his half eaten apple out of Lan Wangji's hand while the man is distracted with images of exactly that happening.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says again, closing his eyes to avoid the distraction of Wei Wuxian's lip upturned in a too coy smile. "How far have you gotten."
Lan Wangji is unsure how afraid he should be of the answer.
"Hmm," Wei Wuxian hums contemplatively. "I'm pretty sure I could will a small houseplant into existence right now, which is a start, but probably Sizhui expects more out of a younger sibling than a ficus could provide."
The problem with Wei Wuxian is that he is sometimes - oftentimes - too smart for his own good. "Stop trying to make a baby with demonic cultivation," Lan Wangji says, firmly.
"Hmm..." Wei Wuxian responds.
"Or with regular cultivation."
"Fine, fine."
"Or talismans."
Wei Wuxian pouts. "You're no fun at all, gege."
Lan Wangji notices Wei Wuxian did not promise he would stop.
—
Lan Wangji is working through another headache inducing stack of complaints and demands from nearby sect leaders when he gets the emergency call, blue light darting into the room with an urgent request from Lan Jiaxing for backup on the far Eastern border.
Wei Wuxian is off in the library, where he has sworn to Lan Wangji (rather unconvincingly) that he is just reading, not trying to create human life via arcane ritual. Lan Wangji flicks a talisman in the air, rushing a brief message off towards his husband. The far Eastern border has had an alarming increase in spiritual activity these last few months, left to simmer too long by politicians who care more about uninterrupted trade routes than the lives of local townspeople. This already has the feeling of a case that will need all the backup they can bring.
Wei Wuxian meets him at the Eastern gates, arriving just as Sizhui and his fellow disciples are lifting off on their swords. Lan Wangji unsheathes Bichen and pulls Wei Wuxian up in front of him, rising into the air moments later as he murmurs what details he knows of the situation into his husband's ear.
At first it seems like they are flying into a storm as they approach the nearly black clouds about a thirty minute flight outside Cloud Recesses' border. Sizhui calls a warning to the group, though, moments before the image coalesces into flames and smoke rising from the ground below.
They land quickly, and just as quickly it becomes clear they are already far too late.
The village is a horror show. Its chief should have called for help days earlier. Weeks, really, and Lan Wangji has been worried about this for a while.
Now the combination of hubris and unchecked ego has left bodies lying around the small town, blood soaked dirt and empty eyes staring back at them. The disciples who landed first are already a whirl of white robes and the flashing steel of swords, cutting down the spirits running rampant through the village. But this is clearly a containment mission now, not a rescue.
Lan Wangji looks to his husband, who has gone still and silent beside him. He can tell, from the lost look in the man's eyes, that this is pushing Wei Wuxian into parts of his memory he does not enjoy revisiting. It sends a rush of fury through Lan Wangji that he doesn't bother to control.
"Let's go," he says, leaning into Wei Wuxian's shoulder, giving him a moment of bodily support until he feels him take a deep breath and shake himself loose. Wei Wuxian pulls Chenqin out of his belt and turns to face Lan Wangji.
"Together?"
Bichen flashes in response as Lan Wangji pulls it from its sheath. Then they are fighting, backs pressed together, the urgent melody of Wei Wuxian's flute mixing with the hiss of steel as Bichen slices through the encroaching mass of cruel teeth and black ichor.
They work their way into the center of town, clearing the space with deadly precision as the other cultivators circle the outskirts, stopping any spirits who might slip through the perimeter to wreak havoc in nearby villages.
They're finally making progress, spirits and corpses coming in drips instead of waves, when they hear a familiar shout in the distance, Sizhui's voice cutting through the chaos followed by a muffled cry.
Lan Wangji flies over as fast as possible, pulling Wei Wuxian beside him, only to find a dirt streaked Sizhui has made his way into a nearly razed house, past fallen ceiling beams and still smoldering thatching. He's crouched in the corner of the house and there is a small bundle in his arms.
A small, softly crying bundle.
"I didn't know what to do," Sizhui says, looking up. His face is streaked with dirt and smoke, and his eyes are big, unsure in a way Lan Wangji has never seen him during a night hunt. "I think... I think that's the mother over there. She was still holding the baby when I made it in."
Lan Wangji feels Wei Wuxian's hand tighten on his arm as they look towards a crumpled body in the corner of the room, partially covered in debris, neck at an awful, unnatural angle.
"Here, A-Yuan," Wei Wuxian says softly, and he leans forward to take the bundle out of Sizhui's hands, pulling it close to his chest protectively. Sizhui takes a deep breath, relief mixed with exhaustion, and pulls himself to his feet.
"Head to safety," Lan Wangji says as they pick their way out of the house. He gives a nod of his head in the direction of the Cloud Recesses.
"Both of you," he adds, as Sizhui goes to draw his sword once more. "I will handle the rest here."
Wei Wuxian nods, and places an arm behind Sizhui's back, his other still cradling the softly whimpering child. Lan Wangji turns back towards the center of town to supervise the remaining disciples with what's left of the cleanup.
—
Lan Wangji returns to the Cloud Recesses that night, exhausted from the day's work, robes still streaked with dirt and dried blood.
There is no one in the Jingshi when he finally arrives just before curfew. Lan Wangji wants, more than anything, to find his husband and son immediately, but he forces himself to bathe and change. To clear himself of the smell of smoke and other, worse things still clinging to his clothes and skin.
Finally, clean and centered as he is going to be tonight, he heads towards the medical pavilion.
There are a handful of disciples being treated in the room. Lan Wangji gives a quick scan to ensure nothing looks too grievous, but it's clear they should all be fine by morning. At the back of the room, partially hidden by a privacy screen, Lan Wangji sees two familiar forms sitting against the wall, bodies slumped towards one another in drowsy silence.
Wei Wuxian's eyes blink open as Lan Wangji steps in front of them. He untangles his hand from where he has been slowly combing his fingers through Sizhui's hair and reaches out to grab a corner of Lan Wangji's robes.
"You're back."
He gives a sleepy half smile, and Lan Wangji feels the final lingering traces of acrid smoke leave his lungs as he exhales.
"Hm," Lan Wangji replies, and gives another look around the room.
"Nurse took her," says Wei Wuxian, not needing words to understand the question. "They're checking her over but she should be fine." He huffs a joyless laugh. "Or as fine as is possible. Lan Zhan. We need to..."
There's a pause, and Lan Wangji waits patiently for his husband to collect his thoughts.
"We need to find... family. If she has any left. She shouldn't be left alone."
"Hm," Lan Wangji says in agreement. "Tomorrow. Today, sleep."
For once, Wei Wuxian doesn't protest. Just gives Sizhui a gentle shake awake, then lifts himself to his feet and latches onto his husband's arm.
"It's past curfew," Lan Wangji says as Sizhui sleepily dusts off his own robes. "Would you like to stay with us tonight?"
Sizhui smiles brightly at the words and gives a nod. Lan Wangji feels an incongruous warmth, possessive and satisfied, as he walks his husband and son back home.
—
Wei Wuxian heads out the next day, earlier than Lan Wangji would wish, but at least after the three of them take breakfast together, bowls of steaming congee a comfort Lan Wangji relishes.
He spends the next week combing the nearby villages, carrying what personal tokens they were able to salvage from the wreckage of the house and asking if they look familiar. If anyone knows the family in question. Lan Wangji has too much work dealing with the fallout of the spirit attack to go with him, but he flies out on Bichen whenever he is able, an imposing presence behind Wei Wuxian's pointed questions, leaving the local farmers awestruck and spilling every detail they know.
The child's name is Yang Mei, they learn from a nearby farmer who used to sell seeds in the now razed village. He seems more upset about his lack of customers than one wayward orphan, and Lan Wangji has to hold himself back as he stands silently to the side during Wei Wuxian's questioning. From the panicked look on the farmer's face, he suspects he might not have sufficiently hidden his anger. Good.
The farmer's wife, at least, seems fraught over the recent destruction. She tells them everything she knows about the ruined village. Her cousin had lived there until just two months ago, when he moved to Caiyi to try his luck in a larger city, a fortuitous choice she seems overwhelmed by.
The Yang family, from what Wei Wuxian gathers, was very small and very poor. A young mother who didn't survive the attack on her village, a husband who left town before the child was even born and hasn't been seen since. No living family at all beyond that, as far as anyone in the nearby farms and villages know. They can't seem to imagine why Chief Cultivator Hanguang-Jun and the fearsome Yiling Patriarch are concerning themselves with such matters. Wei Wuxian continually has to tighten his grip on Lan Wangji's wrist to keep them both from doing or saying something they will (maybe. one day.) regret.
After a week, Wei Wuxian returns to the Cloud Recesses and pulls Lan Wangji towards the nursery where a Lan elder has been caring for the child during the search. She tsks at them about how "That head disciple of yours has only just put her down. She'll never learn to sleep through the night at this rate," but lets them in anyway.
The building is small and sparsely furnished - more meant to house young children whose parents are busy with the emergency duties of a cultivator than as a permanent residence - but it is clearly well cared for, and the child is looking rosy and well fed in a small bassinet.
"She's beautiful," Wei Wuxian whispers, as they look down on her. He'd never seen A-Yuan when he was this small. Didn't quite realize babies came in this size, tiny fists and wrinkled forehead and a teeny button nose.
"Mm," Lan Wangji says in response, before stretching out a hand carefully, slowly. They both watch, barely able to breath, as she blinks sleepily, then wraps her tiny hand around one of his outstretched fingers.
"There are people who could take her in, here," Wei Wuxian says. "Perhaps people with more time than us. People who aren't so notorious."
"Mm," Lan Wangji hums again. A-Mei is still clinging to his finger, grip surprisingly strong for one so young.
"But your uncle did seem very determined," Wei Wuxian says.
Lan Wangji reaches into the bassinet and carefully picks the child up.
—
Lan Mei is a beautiful baby, though a great deal louder a crier than Sizhui ever was. And diapers are... a new challenge for both of them.
Sizhui dotes on his mei mei almost as much as Lan Zhan does, though. And somehow, even though this time they're very, very clear about how and where they acquired this baby, everyone is still sort of convinced they plucked her out of thin air again. Wei Wuxian uses Chenqing to play a tiny plum tree into existence, as a decoration for her windowsill, and doesn't try very hard to correct them.