Chapter Text
They find the donkey in the ill-smelling stables of a small town in Hebei.
In fact, it is the junior disciples who make the discovery—or rather, Jingyi, who reminds Lan Wangji of that fact several times on their way to the stables.
“—but believe me, Hanguang-jun, that donkey has the attitude of a wronged mistress. Inconsolable, no matter what we do! And the smell, ugh! That’s why I’m absolutely sure it’s Wei-qianbei’s stupid donkey. There’s only one of its kind in the world.”
Lan Wangji listens attentively. Jingyi certainly makes it sound like it is Wei Ying’s beloved donkey.
“I’ve been saying this for years, and one day everyone will believe me. That donkey is a yaoguai in disguise!” Jingyi takes a moment to suck in a breath of air in the middle of his incessant chatter, then continues, “Anyway, it’s Wei-qianbei’s donkey, this I can tell you. I’ve never been more certain in my entire life! In fact, I swear on my forehead ribb—”
Lan Wangji casts the Lan silencing spell.
“—mmph? Mmphhh?!”
“Do not speak carelessly,” Lan Wangji says. It would not do for Jingyi to promise away his forehead ribbon.
“Mphmm…”
Grumpily silenced, Jingyi leads him through the sleeping town. They meet no more than half a dozen people on their way. It must be the snow that has brought the daily town life to a standstill.
Lan Wangji does not pay much attention to his surroundings. His thoughts revolve around the donkey only, and even more so its owner. If Jingyi is right and it is Lil’ Apple…
Lan Wangji is not one to indulge in wishful thinking, but for that to be true, he would give away his own forehead ribbon.
And indeed, Jingyi’s description turns out to be accurate, Lan Wangji confirms once they reach the stables. A spotted donkey is huffing and grunting at the junior disciples in its indignation. It scares away anyone who tries to get remotely close, like Lil’ Apple used to do when she was hungry.
Could it be…?
He observes the donkey for a moment longer, then reaches into his qiankun pouch. He pulls out an apple and holds it up. The donkey freezes, watches his hand as if it cannot trust what it sees.
There is the possibility of error; there might exist another donkey in the world with equally asymmetrical nostrils and with the same bad temper as Lil’ Apple.
But there is a way to verify it.
Lan Wangji waits. He can hear the juniors whispering among themselves, but he does not take his eyes off the donkey. The apple feels cold and heavy in his hand. Briefly, Lan Wangji's conviction falters. Was he wrong?
At last, the donkey comes nosing at his hand, its wet muzzle tickling his palm. The hot pressure of its tongue probes around, and from one moment to the next, the apple is devoured whole. The donkey’s nostrils grow even bigger, and it—no, she—makes her telltale satisfied grunt that sounds more pig than donkey.
A warm feeling envelops Lan Wangji, unknots something in his chest.
Lil’ Apple’s flaring nostrils have never been a more comforting sight.
He retrieves more apples, just to please her. It becomes a game: Hand, apple, muzzle, hand, apple, muzzle…
After three more apples, Lil’ Apple seems to have forgotten all grievances, and the braver juniors come forward to gather around her again, entranced by this donkey inhaling apple after apple.
But Lan Wangji wonders. Lil’ Apple is filthy and reeks of things better left unsaid. How long has she been here, alone and abandoned, to end up in such a sorry state? It is wrong to see Lil’ Apple alone, without Wei Ying here to wail about how spoiled this bad donkey is, how she steals the attention of the handsome and illustrious Hanguang-jun all to herself!
No such complaints come. Wei Ying is absent.
Jingyi is now playing with Lil’ Apple, dangling one of Lan Wangji’s apples in front of her, while Sizhui strokes her head. “Poor thing,” he says. “She must think Wei-qianbei has abandoned her…”
“I kind of missed her,” one of the younger juniors says. “She grows on you.”
Jingyi snorts. “Grows on you like what? Like mold?”
“Jingyi!” Sizhui admonishes.
The juniors giggle.
They are standing in this dirty, foul-smelling stable, around an even fouler-smelling donkey, but the juniors’ morale is higher than it has been in a long time. After months of searching, they have found a lead: If Lil’ Apple is here, Wei Ying has also been here before.
Instinctively, Lan Wangji feels for Wei Ying’s letter, tucked between the folds of his robes and protected by one of Wei Ying’s latest inventions (“Call it the anti-wrinkle charm! I invented it just for you, Lan Zhan. I know how much the pristine Hanguang-jun dislikes wrinkles”). Lan Wangji had no use for the talisman, at first; he is not Wei Ying, so he can keep his correspondence and reading wrinkle-free without the help of a charm. But ironically, Lan Wangji often finds himself rereading Wei Ying’s letters, especially this one—his last letter. Without the talisman, the edges of the paper would surely be worn and frayed by now, held too many times by rough fingers.
What would Wei Ying say if he knew about Lan Wangji’s obsession with his letters?
“Lan Zhan, oh Lan Zhan. And you call me shameless?”
That.
Lan Wangji stops his mind from wandering further and returns his attention to the present moment.
“One thing is for sure,” Jingyi says. “The rumors were true. I told you, there’s no one more reliable than bored traveling merchants. They know their stuff, especially when their tongues loosen after a few drinks!”
Lan Wangji agrees. He wants to find the merchants and gift them a fortune.
They have not heard from Wei Ying in months, but a fortnight ago, rumors spread by these traveling merchants had begun to circulate. According to them, Lil’ Apple, or some other donkey that makes similar loud, high-pitched noises that can be heard for several li across the mountains, was giving people sleepless nights in this small town on the very northern border of the Hebei area, called Kangbao. Apparently, an innkeeper from this town kept complaining about a rogue cultivator who dumped the donkey on her.
For rumors to travel this far, Lil’ Apple’s peculiar behavior must have left a deep impression on the merchants.
He gives her a final pat and strides towards the doors.
“Hanguang-jun.” Sizhui appears at his side and holds open the door. “Are we going to see the innkeeper?”
Lan Wangji nods. There is no time to delay.
“Wait for me!” he hears Jingyi say from behind, followed by what sounds like a heartfelt goodbye to Lil’ Apple.
They make their way to the adjacent inn. Half of the disciples follow them, the other half stay with Lil’ Apple.
The innkeeper does remember Wei Ying, remembers that he stayed at the inn for a few days in late fall, but the tone in which she speaks of him irks Lan Wangji.
“He looked like one of the street rats, all shabby and filthy, I tell you. I should’ve known he’s the kind who ups and leaves without paying, but I let him charm me into giving him a room.”
“He left without paying?” asks Sizhui. “That’s not like Wei-qianbei…”
If Sizhui’s Wei-qianbei were here, he would surely crack a joke at his own expense to dismiss Sizhui’s high opinion of him. “Isn't it like me? You know how tragically poor I am, A-Yuan. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do and make a run for it,” he would say. “Hey, don’t judge me, Lan Zhan! ‘Do not look down on the poor;’ that’s rule one-hundred fifty-two!”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji says. “It is not like Wei Ying.”
The innkeeper grumbles. “Believe me! You should have seen his room. It’s obvious he left in a hurry, probably after he drank away the last of his money.”
Lan Wangji’s fingers twitch around Bichen.
“—even left clothes and junk lying around everywhere,” the innkeeper rambles on. “It was a mess—not that his things are worth anything. And don’t get me started on his donkey. It’s no better than its master!”
He reminds himself that the innkeeper is a civilian and that it is forbidden to use violence against civilians.
Clearly, something had happened. Did someone break into Wei Ying’s room and kidnap him? Or was he chased and forced to run away, unable to even pack his possessions? Was there a struggle?
“Where are his belongings?” he asks the innkeeper.
“Ah, we kept them in case he came back, as security. I haven’t sold them yet. I guess I can give them to you…” the innkeeper trails off. A glint appears in her eyes. “But what about our financial loss? Will the rat come back and pay? Or…”
“We will pay for your loss,” he says. “But first, let us see his belongings.”
“Can you take the donkey, too? The sounds it makes…”
Lan Wangji chooses to answer with a simple glare. He might make an exception for this civilian and use violence, after all.
He holds himself back. He must focus on the task. For Wei Ying.
“Hanguang-jun,” Sizhui says, and hands him an empty qiankun pouch. “Here, for Wei-qianbei’s belongings…”
At Sizhui’s words, the innkeeper's eyes widen in recognition. Suddenly, her entire demeanor changes. “H-hanguang-j-jun? D-did I hear right?” she stammers. “Y-you are His Excellency the Cultivation Chief?”
“Mn.”
Her pallor resembles that of a corpse. She must finally realize how badly she has spoken about a friend of the Cultivation Chief. She falls into a deep bow and says, “P-please forgive my terrible oversight, Your Excellency. How rude of me! I, if I had known—”
Lan Wangji’s irritation flares.
If she had known, she would not have let her low opinion of Wei Ying slip. He does not need to hear it to know; people treat Wei Ying respectfully when he is at Lan Wangji’s side, but he knows that their behavior is different in his absence.
Unlike Wei Ying, Lan Wangji holds grudges. He will not forget. He is bad at forgetting and even worse at forgiving.
He thinks: If the innkeeper had been less prejudiced and had gone to the authorities about Wei Ying’s disappearance, Lan Wangji could have come after Wei Ying months earlier.
Unforgivable.
Lan Wangji recites the sect rules in his head to prevent himself from acting on impulse.
Do not succumb to rage. Do not act impulsively. Do not insult people…
It does not help until his mind’s voice starts to sound more and more like the Wei Ying of his youth, cackling mischievously as he recites the rules perfectly, just to taunt Lan Wangji. Do not bully the weak! Do not hold grudges! Do not fight without permission! Do not—ha ha ha ha ha ha, look at your face, Lan Zhan, it’s priceless…
Oddly enough, this is what helps him regain his composure.
In the meantime, kind, thoughtful Sizhui has put an end to the innkeeper’s misery. He engages her in conversation with a kind of diplomacy that Lan Wangji has never possessed. This, he must have learned from Lan Xichen. Certainly not from Lan Wangji.
The innkeeper leads them to the back room, where she stores Wei Ying’s meager possessions in a box.
And there is…
Sizhui’s breath hitches. “It’s Chenqing!”
Lan Wangji snatches up Wei Ying’s cherished flute. His hand clenches, then unclenches around it. He traces its smooth lacquer. If Wei Ying did not take Chenqing with him, something must be truly amiss. The last time he checked, Mo Xuanyu’s core was still too weak for proper cultivation. How would Wei Ying defend himself?
But he tries to reassure himself that it is nothing new for Wei Ying to be on his own without a proper form of defense. Wei Ying is capable and resourceful.
To make sure they do not miss anything, they look through Wei Ying’s few other possessions. The once-heavy money pouch Lan Wangji gave Wei Ying before he left in the summer is empty (though the innkeeper surely took whatever was left), and he finds only two worn, patched-up outfits, a few notebooks, blank parchment, and some rather dubious trinkets, the kind Wei Ying tends to buy at the street market whenever a pretty little vendor flirts with him.
He glances back at Chenqing. He must find Wei Ying before it is too late, if it is not already too late. He needs to see Wei Ying, needs to reassure himself.
(Not just because he misses his teasing laugh, or his silly jokes, his offhanded charm—)
And perhaps Wei Ying is still in this area. He thinks of Wei Ying’s letter again, and the vision of a wide clearing with snow-white rabbits idling about swims before his eyes. A foolish idea forms in his mind. Maybe…
“Rabbits,” he says.
The innkeeper frowns at him. “Excuse me?”
Sizhui turns to him with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Is this about the place Wei-qianbei described in his letter?”
“Oh!” says Jingyi. “The bunny forest?”
Lan Wangji nods.
“Ah, you must mean the rabbit grove,” the innkeeper says, and Lan Wangji thinks with a tinge of gratitude that this woman was good for something after all.
“There really is such a place?” asks Jingyi in disbelief.
The innkeeper nods. “I don’t know how it happened, but a few years ago, rabbits started popping up there, and then… well, you know how fast rabbits… breed.”
Some of the juniors blush.
They ask the innkeeper for directions. Sizhui turns to him. “Does it sound like it could be the place?”
He shakes his head. “We will confirm.”
Jingyi runs outside, and he hears him calling to the other juniors. “Get ready, everyone! We’re going to see the bunnies!”
It is silly. Perhaps he is chasing ducks. But there is little else he can do with so few clues as to Wei Ying’s whereabouts.
Lan Wangji places Wei Ying’s belongings in the qiankun pouch, puts down two heavy pieces of silver on the table, perhaps with more force than necessary, and, without a glance at the stuttering innkeeper, strides towards the door.
“Let us go,” he calls to the juniors.
*
Wei Ying’s last letter is, strictly speaking, not an actual letter. It is a drawing of Lil’ Apple, sitting in what looks like a snow-covered field at first glance, but turns out to be a field of hundreds of white, plump rabbits. Lil’ Apple looks wholeheartedly unimpressed; it is all too obvious that she would rather sit among ripe apples.
In Lan Wangji’s biased opinion, it is a masterpiece.
There is a note scribbled on the back in Wei Ying’s distinctive scratchy handwriting. Lan Zhan, can you imagine a place that holds even more rabbits than the Cloud Recesses? Well, this humble man has found it!
After months of searching, he knows the scenery in the drawing by heart, yet he still often finds himself gazing at the drawing, lost in thought. And just as often, he wonders, Where is this place, Wei Ying? Is this where you are? Is that place better than the Cloud Recesses? Is that why you forgot me? Do you like the rabbits more than—
He can only wonder. Because the letter is Wei Ying’s last.
In the years since his return from the dead, Wei Ying has followed a pattern, and that pattern is the string that keeps Lan Wangji tethered, that keeps him sane while he waits: Wei Ying visits the Cloud Recesses when the snow melts to make way for spring, he stays for the season, then departs in early summer when the heat is still bearable; Wei Ying can only bear to stay for so long before he becomes restless. This pattern has continued for three years.
Still, Wei Ying stays with Lan Wangji even in his absence, through his letters. Sometimes they are short scribbled notes, sometimes elaborate retellings of a Night Hunt, but unless there is a forewarning, Lan Wangji will not go a fortnight without a letter.
My next destination is in the middle of nowhere, so don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me. But don’t rejoice too soon, I’ll flood you with triple the amount of letters when I get back to civilization!
Or in even worse handwriting than usual,
Broke my arm during the last Night Hunt—don’t worry, it sounds worse than it is!—so there won’t be any letters for a while. Wouldn’t want His Busy Excellency to spend half a day deciphering my left-handed writing!
But this time there is no warning. At first, Lan Wangji thinks—dejectedly so—that Wei Ying has stopped writing because he is so entertained on his journey that he simply cannot be bothered to write. Perhaps a thrilling case is keeping him on his toes, and Lan Wangji will later receive a ten-page letter with all the gory details. Or perhaps Wei Ying has made new, exciting friends, so exciting that writing to Lan Wangji has become a chore.
But once he gets over his initial dejection and pens letters of inquiry to all the people who either have a favorable opinion of Wei Ying or are in regular contact with him, he begins to believe that there is more to it. Lan Wangji is not the only person who has stopped receiving letters.
The response letters are either simply unfruitful (My Apologies, Your Excellency, I haven't heard from Wei-gongzi in months either) or, in the case of Jiang Wanyin, both unfruitful and aggravating (How could you let him out of your sight for so long? You Lans are so useless!).
He then tries to trace Wei Ying’s steps. Wei Ying never includes a sender address in his letters, but he does mention locations and people. The last few places he refers to are all remote villages in the lands beyond Qinghe, so that is where Lan Wangji goes.
In the villages, people remember Wei Ying. Some as the nameless rogue cultivator with a black flute, some as Wanderer Wei or Cultivator Tong or even Talisman Vendor Wen, as if Wei Ying gives out names purely on a whim.
But none of them have seen him since the fall.
As he travels, he keeps his eyes open for Wei Ying’s rabbit clearing. He sees all kinds of rabbits, from mellow ones to aggressive ones to lop-eared ones, but he never comes across the white, round rabbits in Wei Ying’s drawing.
When his travels prove fruitless, he returns to study the drawing. It is far more detailed than the usual random sketches Wei Ying sends him, and perhaps, Lan Wangji thinks, there is a meaning behind it.
Sometimes, when Lan Wangji’s mood is low, he wonders if this is just one of Wei Ying’s silly games and if the drawing holds some kind of riddle that Lan Wangji must solve.
He would then picture it: Wei Ying in a tavern somewhere in a remote village, tipsy on local wine and bored out of his mind as the days grow shorter and colder. This Wei Ying sketches a picture of the rabbit clearing he has just passed through, and thinks briefly of his friend in the Cloud Recesses, who likes rabbits. And then he thinks, If I’m this bored, just how bored must Lan Zhan be? Poor Lan Zhan, busy day in and day out being the Boring Cultivation Chief... And then his eyes would light up with an idea, and he would get up to mischief, to prepare a little something—just a little prank—for his friend Lan Zhan.
And later, when Lan Wangji has solved the riddle and they meet at last, Wei Ying would say in his defense, “Oh come on, Lan Zhan, you hardly ever leave Gusu; isn’t it boring? This was just what you needed: a good excuse to leave, a good puzzle to solve! As your friend, it was my responsibility to do something about it. We can’t let the great Hanguang-jun lose his form!”
But Wei Ying wouldn’t be so cruel to him, wouldn’t just disappear like that for a mere prank, Lan Wangji knows.
So he continues his search, with only one thought occupying his mind. Find Wei Ying. Find Wei Ying and ensure his safety. Find Wei Ying, find Wei Ying, find Wei Ying…
Wei Ying would surely act surprised, even scandalized, if he knew how desperately Lan Wangji is searching for him. “My, my, such dedication, Lan Zhan! But don’t bother, this one’s not worth it!”
How could he not bother?
Wei Ying went missing in late fall. The snow will soon melt in the Cloud Recesses.
*
“…one hundred fifty-two, one hundred fifty-three, and one hundred fifty—wait,” Jingyi says. “Wait wait wait! Did I count that one twice?! Did I, Sizhui? Please tell me no!”
The rabbit in question hops over to Lan Wangji and nuzzles his feet. Lan Wangji fights the instinct to pick it up and hug it close.
Sizhui appears to be quite done with Jingyi’s mission to count the rabbits. “Why don’t we just agree that there are over one hundred fifty?”
“All that hard work for nothing,” Jingyi grumbles. “But that shrewd innkeeper was right, they breed like… rabbits, ha! Look at all the baby bunnies.”
Lan Wangji considers this. In Wei Ying’s drawing, there were a total of one hundred twenty-four rabbits. Lan Wangji knows this because he counted them until white, fat rabbits suffocated him in his dreams.
It was his first, and hopefully last, nightmare involving rabbits.
The number of rabbits in Wei Ying’s drawing and in the grove are not identical. But as Jingyi pointed out, there are dozens of young offspring among the rabbits, which must be the first litters of the new year.
Wei Ying must have been here before the litter was born.
The rabbits look content and well-fed, just like little snowballs. Just like in the drawing. This is the drawing, the same clearing. He has finally found his way here.
But Wei Ying is not here, nor is there any trace of him.
The juniors become deflated when they realize that Wei Ying will is not going to pop up from among the rabbits to give his little Lans a scare. Lan Wangji watches the juniors flock around the rabbits, evidently seeking comfort. He understands, but he cannot bear to look at the rabbits for too long. They remind him too much of Wei Ying.
If Wei Ying were here, he would not allow the juniors to be so depressed. Wei Ying would tease them into a good mood, saying, “Which rabbit gets roasted today? A-Yuan, be good and pick a young and fat one for me!” or something of the like.
But Lan Wangji has never been good at comforting people, so he allows them time with the rabbits instead.
Lan Wangji takes a breath of crisp winter air. He continues to look around the clearing by himself, then searches further inside the grove. Up above, whenever he catches a glimpse of the blue sky, the sun is bright, making the icy fragments that gather on the treetops sparkle a brilliant silver.
At one point, he thinks he sees a small animal scurrying through the bushes, its fur black instead of the rabbits’ white, but it is so fast that it might as well be an illusion.
The next day, they search the entire town. They do not expect to find Wei Ying, but they hope to obtain some new information, however insignificant.
The juniors ask around, determined to find their Wei-qianbei. But except for the innkeeper, no one remembers Wei Ying. He was only in town for a dew days, and no one saw what happened the night he disappeared.
After several days like this, Lan Wangji is forced to admit that Wei Ying is simply not here, that this town does not bear any miraculous clues as to his whereabouts, that he has exhausted all possibilities. That he cannot stall any longer.
They return to the Cloud Recesses. It feels wrong to take Wei Ying’s belongings and Lil’ Apple with him. If Wei Ying is to return to the inn, looking for his possessions, how upset will he be to find everything gone?
*
By the time he returns to the Cloud Recesses, the snow has already melted. It is spring.
For the past three years, this has meant that Wei Ying will be knocking at the Jingshi’s doors any day now.
Lan Wangji is a man of routine, so he returns to his duties without a hitch. Work has naturally piled up, so he is kept busy. He works through a month’s worth of correspondence. He attends sect meetings. He leads Night Hunts. He teaches class. He acts by the sect rules. In between, he thinks of Wei Ying.
He does not think about how it is spring and Wei Ying is not here.
It has been many long months, and he wonders if his search for Wei Ying in the mortal realm has reached a dead-end, and if he must now look elsewhere.
So he plays Inquiry. Where are you, Wei Ying? he asks, over and over, every day. And he can no longer deny the possibility, the possibility that Wei Ying is not missing, but dead.
There is no answer, but that is no relief. There was no answer the last time, and Wei Ying was dead then. Wei Ying has such a forgetful mind even when he is among the living, so if he is dead, his soul would have already moved on, all memories of Lan Wangji erased.
Wei Ying does not answer, but the echo of his laughter haunts him every day.
Lan Wangji has no illusions about himself, about the somewhat dubious nature of his sanity. He knows that it is not normal to think of Wei Ying day and night, that his imagination has gone wild in conjuring up the voice of his dear friend, to the point that he can convince himself that a little version of Wei Ying is living inside his head.
All the time since they returned from the rabbit grove, it feels as if Wei Ying is close by, as if all Lan Wangji has to do is turn around and there he is, but he knows it is just his desperate imagination.
“Who knows, Lan Zhan?” his inner Wei Ying supplies. “Maybe I’ve become a resentful spirit and you’re being haunted? Watch out for your breakfast! You might find it covered in chili oil tomorrow.”
His breakfast stays pristine and unflavored. Although Wei Ying always says that he will haunt his enemies after his death, Lan Wangji knows that this is not the case. Wei Ying forgives and forgets too easily.
Yet, something happens.
About a fortnight after their return, when Lan Wangji is still catching up on the work he has neglected in his absence—which is not easy, since his mind keeps wandering to Wei Ying and new plans to find him—the Cloud Recesses are unusually noisy. That means that they have visitors from outside.
And indeed, it turns out that Jin Rulan and Ouyang Zizhen have come to visit. With these two, Jingyi becomes five times louder, and even Sizhui drops some of his usually impeccable conduct.
Lan Wangji can even hear them from the isolated Jingshi. They are shouting at an alarming volume, as if they want to be heard down in Caiyi Town. Sizhui would never let that happen under normal circumstances, so something must be amiss.
Lan Wangji is about to see what is happening when he notices a small shadow outside the paper door.
Something is there.
The shadow is still. Lan Wangji keeps equally still, watches it for movement. Nothing happens, so he walks forward.
The shadow takes notice and leaps away.
Only when he opens the door does he understand. The small silhouette of a rabbit is scampering toward the back hills.
How odd.
Remembering his original plan, he makes his way toward the voices of the juniors, still loud in the distance. They are coming from the back hills, where the rabbit has run off to.
Soon, the juniors’ voices quiet down, but he finds them in the rabbits’ favorite spot. The boys are huddled around something on the ground, and the rabbits crowd close around them, unafraid. There is little that frightens them these days.
“—was scared for a moment there. Don’t run off like that again, do you hear me?” he hears Sizhui say.
Ouyang Zizhen coos. “He’s such an unruly one.”
They must be talking about one of the rabbits. So, Lan Wangji’s concern was unfounded. They were just playing around. Lan Wangji will not admonish Sizhui and Jingyi this time, not after how dejected they were upon their return to the Cloud Recesses. Still, he despises the fact that people are smiling in a world where Wei Ying is still missing.
“Oh, I know,” Jingyi says. “That’s what we should call him! The Unruly One!”
Sizhui groans. “Jingyi…”
Jin Rulan says, “I thought we agreed on Princess Night.”
“But Jin Ling, it’s a boy…”
“So what! What if he wants to be a princess?!” In his agitation, Jin Rulan stands up from his spot on the grass, and that is when Lan Wangji glimpses the object of their attention. Sitting on Sizhui’s lap is a rabbit with brownish, almost black fur. Lan Wangji knows immediately that he does not belong to the Cloud Recesses.
It is the rabbit from earlier.
Lan Wangji steps forward. Something about this rabbit…
“Hanguang-jun!” Sizhui says when they finally notice him, and four—no, five?—pairs of wide eyes look up at him in surprise.
The guilty expressions on their faces tell him most of the story.
“Explain,” he demands.
“I—uh…” Sizhui begins, “I apologize, I know pets are prohibited, but—” He looks down at the rabbit in his lap, and Lan Wangji follows his gaze. “He didn’t look like he belonged with the others in the rabbit grove in Kangbao, so I… I took him in. I’m sorry!”
But Lan Wangji is not listening anymore, too distracted. The rabbit. Something about the rabbit is…
The rabbit meets Lan Wangji’s eyes, and the world stands still. It has to stand still, because Lan Wangji cannot breathe.
A flood of relief overcomes him, almost overwhelms him.
Finally, his breath leaves him. “Wei Ying.”
The rabbit just stares up at him, eyes wide.
There you are. Wei Ying is not dead. He is here, has been here for some time.
He is alive.
He is… a rabbit.
Lan Wangji has yet to figure out this one important part, but he knows.
He walks forward, kneels down, and holds out his hands. Softly, so as not to scare Wei Ying in his current form, he repeats, “Wei Ying.”
“W-what?” says Sizhui.
“What the,” says Jin Rulan.
“What!” squeals Jingyi. “Are you saying… this bunny is—Wei-qianbei?!”
“Mn.” He lifts Wei Ying up his arms, as gently as he can. Right now, Wei Ying is small and vulnerable. He ought to be careful.
“A-are you sure, Hanguang-jun?” Jingyi asks.
“Mn.”
Wei Ying blinks up at him. His eyes tell him, Sorry, Lan Zhan, this is me now. But aren’t I adorable?
…Was that a wink?
Sizhui looks at Wei Ying in his hands, flabbergasted. “What? H-how? How can you tell, Hanguang-jun? I—didn’t, I didn’t know, I’d never have thought—”
“Oh, come on,” says Ouyang Zizhen. “Hanguang-jun knows everything. If he says so, then it’s true!”
“B-but!” Jin Rulan says. “How can people turn into rabbits? Is that a thing now?” He sounds dejected. Was he so adamant about naming Wei Ying with that distasteful name—Princess Night, was it?
Ouyang Zizhen laughs. “We're talking about Wei-qianbei. What can he not do? Or wait, is he cursed? Did someone curse him?!”
Lan Wangji pays no attention to the bickering juniors at his side. He looks Wei Ying over for signs of injury or malnutrition. He looks a bit undernourished for Lan Wangji’s liking. The rabbits in the Cloud Recesses are on the plumper side. He also takes Wei Ying’s pulse and finds it to be healthy for a rabbit.
Someone sniffs.
Lan Wangji drags his eyes up from Wei Ying and sees a distraught Sizhui. “Sizhui?”
“I—” he starts, then breaks off with a sob. Sizhui’s hand hovers just a hand-width away from Wei Ying as if he wants to touch him, but something is holding him back.
“What is wrong, Sizhui?”
“I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. When I saw him in the clearing, I just—If I knew, I would have…”
Lan Wangji shakes his head. “It is no matter. You could not have known.” More importantly, he wonders how he could have missed Wei Ying. Was there a blackish rabbit among the white ones in the clearing? But how would he know when he did not even acknowledge them, too caught up in his premature grief? How careless of him. If Sizhui had not taken Wei Ying with him back then, what would have become of him? Lan Wangji wants to punish himself for his failure.
“All this time, he was here in the Cloud Recesses, with me,” Sizhui says. “If only I didn’t hide him away, you… I thought he was just a rabbit.”
“No,” Lan Wangji says, “Wei Ying is here because of you.” And perhaps it was meant to be that way. Just as Wei Ying had taken in the little A-Yuan and the Wen remnants when they had nowhere else to go, this A-Yuan had now taken in Wei Ying when he was in this helpless state. “Well done, Sizhui.”
Sizhui’s eyes grow wide. “H-hanguang-jun.”
Lan Wangji feels Wei Ying wiggle in his grasp, then lets him hop back onto Sizhui’s lap. Wei Ying nuzzles him and Sizhui huffs a shaky laugh. “Wei-qianbei, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“Isn’t it hilarious?” Jingyi exclaims so loudly that the other rabbits skitter off. “The mighty and scary Yiling Patriarch is a bunny!”
Everyone’s relief is palpable. Wei Ying may be cursed or in some other form of predicament, but he is here, with them. Not dead.
“Can we still name him Princess Night?” Jin Rulan mumbles.
“Jin Ling…” says a chorus of exasperated juniors.
*
It is now the third year after the events at Guanyin Temple, and Lan Wangji’s brother has almost completely come out of seclusion.
With a fidgeting Wei Ying in his arms, Lan Wangji enters the Hanshi. As always, Lan Xichen takes one look at him and knows immediately what is troubling him.
(“It’s an older brother thing,” Wei Ying had told him once. “You little brothers wouldn’t understand.”)
Or maybe it is the way he cradles Wei Ying in his arms like a treasure that gives him away.
His brother immediately gets to work. Lan Wangji watches his deft fingers examine Wei Ying’s small form, and he feels a rush of fondness. With his brother’s support, he will transform Wei Ying back. Lan Wangji knows his fair share of curses and ailments, but his brother’s knowledge in the area is unmatched.
Lan Xichen brushes Wei Ying’s ears aside, his touch gentle. He lifts him and peers up at him from below. Wei Ying becomes more fidgety with each passing moment.
His brother hums. “There are no visible curse marks.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirms.
“The fur may hide a mark, but…” he trails off.
Lan Wangji understands. This is something he has never seen before. Animal transformation curses are unheard of.
Finally, his brother places Wei Ying back into Lan Wangji’s arms and shakes his head. “I need a couple of days. I need to confirm some of my suspicions before I can say anything with certainty.”
“I will assist you,” Lan Wangji says.
“No,” says Lan Xichen, “you should be with Wei-gongzi. He needs you more.” And you him, goes unsaid.
Wei Ying’s small head nods along. Yes, Lan Zhan, you have to keep me entertained or I’ll die a tragic death! Take responsibility! Or at least that is what Lan Wangji imagines Wei Ying is trying to convey.
“You are right, Xiongzhang. Thank you.” Wei Ying’s comfort comes first, even before breaking the curse, or whatever this is.
He pats Wei Ying’s head in an attempt to calm the jittery rabbit, or perhaps even more so himself.
He must be getting lost in the feel of Wei Ying’s impossibly soft fur against his fingers, because when he looks up, his brother is watching him with an amused smile. “I am glad, Wangji,” he says then. “You seem relieved.”
Lan Wangji’s hands tighten around Wei Ying’s middle, where he can feel Wei Ying’s small heart beating rapidly. His brother will always see through him.
He takes Wei Ying to the Jingshi, ignoring the stares of several elders on the way, and devises a plan to make the Jingshi habitable for a human-turned-rabbit. Wei Ying will not sleep another night out in the wild.
Did Wei Ying live a rabbit’s life for the past season? Lan Wangji can imagine it, he can imagine Wei Ying playfully chasing other rabbits through the forest clearing, being creative in finding food sources in the winter, digging a hole in the ground to stay warm and comfortable.
When they arrive at the Jingshi, Wei Ying wiggles free and jumps down with the vitality of the free-spirited creature he is. Lan Wangji lets him roam about. Wei Ying must be happy to be in a familiar place.
Lan Wangji empties a wooden box where he usually keeps his guqin care products and replacement strings, finds a pillow to put inside, and after watching Wei Ying run in circles for a while, catches him to set him on top of the pillow.
He fetches some lettuce leaves that he intended to feed the (real) rabbits. Wei Ying sniffs the lettuce warily, then gives Lan Wangji a look that says it all. Seriously, Lan Zhan? Lettuce?
Lan Wangji pushes the lettuce in Wei Ying’s direction. “Eat.” Who knows what Wei Ying has or has not eaten in the past few months.
For a moment, he simply watches the rabbit munching on the lettuce.
He desperately wants to bury his face in something dark and soft—no, he is not thinking of Wei Ying’s rabbit fur—for a quiet moment to process the impossible fact that Wei Ying is sitting in front of him, in the form of a rabbit, and an adorable one at that (in fact, the most adorable rabbit that has ever existed), but there is no time for that now. By nightfall, he must have sorted out Wei Ying’s living accommodations—or at least his toilet situation, if he does not want the Jingshi to be covered in little rabbit droppings by morning.
He gives Wei Ying one or two last pats and gets up. “I will be back soon. Stay here,” he says. Does Wei Ying understand human language in his present condition? He does not know.
He heads out to gather wood, and borrow blankets and other tools from the servants’ house, and greens from the kitchen. He feels lucky that Wei Ying has turned into a rabbit and not some other animal. If Lan Wangji were ever to brag about anything, it would be about his mastery of rabbit care.
He does not want to be separated from Wei Ying for long, so he finishes his business swiftly.
It is futile. When he returns, he finds the Jingshi turned upside down.
Judging by the state of the Jingshi, he is not surprised to find that Wei Ying is no longer inside the wooden box; he has left behind one abandoned lettuce leaf.
Lan Wangji surveys the damage: Cushions are scattered all over the place, his tea set is overturned, he thinks he can see a bite mark on the wooden base of his table, and Wei Ying…
Wei Ying is currently attempting to climb onto his bed, clinging to his blanket with his little claws.
Lan Wangji allows himself to sigh. “...I only left for half a shi.”
Wei Ying has the decency to release his abused blanket and sink back to the floor to look up at him. For a brief moment, he looks like the epitome of a meek, innocent rabbit.
Then he latches onto the blanket again, determined to succeed this time.
Lan Wangji decides to let him get away with it (just this once, he tells himself), and begins to build Wei Ying’s rabbit hutch.
Wei Ying soon tires of his battle with the blanket, which is now beyond repair. He then turns his attention to other things in the room. Wei Ying is an unruly one, as the juniors have said. He navigates the Jingshi like a raging storm, leaving chaos in his wake. Perhaps Wei Ying is even worse of a menace when he is not human.
Lan Wangji leaves him be. Is there any point in telling a rabbit, No running in the Cloud Recesses?
But when Wei Ying almost knocks over Lan Wangji’s sword stand with Bichen sitting on it, Lan Wangji grabs him and places him on his lap. “Enough,” he scolds the rabbit. Lan Wangji does not want Wei Ying anywhere near a sword right now.
At first, Wei Ying fidgets on his lap, but as soon as Lan Wangji starts scratching behind his ears and feeds him the occasional snack that is not lettuce, he calms down.
In the comfortable silence of the Jingshi, Lan Wangji builds a little bed made of straw and pillows.
(…and a litter box.)
When haishi approaches and he is finally finished, Lan Wangji finds that Wei Ying is already asleep, curled up in a ball. Lan Wangji’s heart gives a pathetic little kick.
Wei Ying must be exhausted. The other rabbits are usually quite active at this hour.
He finds a place for the rabbit bed next to his own and settles Wei Ying down into it, then gets ready for bed himself.
But just as his head hits the pillow, he hears shuffling from below.
Lan Wangji bends down only to see Wei Ying trying to climb up the bed again. This time with the help of the bedpost.
Lan Wangji huffs. “Ridiculous.”
He picks up Wei Ying and his makeshift bed and sets them down next to his pillow.
This is surely not going to work. Although Lan Wangji is not worried about rolling over and hurting Wei Ying in his sleep—he sleeps as still as a log, as is only proper for a Lan disciple—Wei Ying, being a rabbit who is supposed to have a different sleep cycle than humans, will probably wake up soon and go back to wreaking havoc.
Does Wei Ying have a rabbit's sleep cycle now? There are so many things he does not know about Wei Ying’s condition.
“Sleep,” he tells Wei Ying, then folds his hands over his chest and closes his eyes.
Only a few moments later, he senses Wei Ying shuffling around again and already braces himself for a sleepless night.
Something brushes feather-light against his cheekbone, then stills. A warm weight settles in the crook of his neck. There is no further movement.
It is Lan Wangji’s first restful night in a long time.
*
“This is not a curse,” his brother says two days later.
They sit in the Hanshi again, only this time the juniors have begged and pleaded until Lan Xichen relented and invited them in. Since his brother entered seclusion, he has never had so many visitors at once, but he appears almost giddy to see the Hanshi so crammed full; he has certainly gone overboard with preparing tea and snacks for the young guests, as if he had forgotten who was the Sect Leader and who the junior.
“Not a curse, Zewu-jun?” asks Sizhui. “Then how did Wei-qianbei end up like this?”
Lan Xichen hums. “After examining Wei-gongzi, the only possible conclusion was that he cannot be cursed. There are no visible curse marks, for one.”
Lan Wangji nods. He was already sure of that.
“And,” Lan Xichen continues, “the spell that transformed Wei-gongzi is highly complex. I believe a customized transformation talisman is at play here, rather than a curse. Unfortunately, with such elaborate talismans, only the caster himself can usually break the spell.”
Jin Rulan swallows down the honey cake he has been grumpily munching on. “How is it different from a curse then? We have to find the caster either way!”
“To be more clear,” Lan Xichen says, and casts his eyes down to where the rabbit-turned Wei Ying is chasing shadows around the Hanshi, “I have already identified the original caster.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “The caster is Wei-gongzi himself.”
“Uh, what?” asks Jingyi. “Wei-qianbei cursed himself?”
“Not a curse,” Lan Wangji repeats. It appears that the juniors should review the characteristics of curses. He will have them write an essay on it later.
“Yes. Knowing Wei-gongzi, I would conclude that it was the unfortunate result of an experiment,” his brother says with a wry smile.
Lan Wangji agrees. It is the most likely explanation for what happened. Wei Ying is both brilliant enough to come up with such an ingenious talisman and reckless enough to test it on himself. He must have been in the rabbit grove when it happened, surrounded by his rabbit friends. Hopefully, they helped him get accustomed to his new body.
But what went wrong? Lan Wangji wonders. Even Wei Ying would not test a faulty talisman on himself. And not being able to return back to his human body can certainly be considered faulty.
Or… Another possibility crosses Lan Wangji’s mind, but the very thought is painful.
Was it just an experiment or…
Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying. He was idling about earlier, but has stopped in front of Jin Rulan’s feet. Jin Rulan’s socks seem to have caught his attention, and he sniffs at them curiously. The owner of the socks tries to shoo him away, but with little success.
“But Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun…” says Ouyang Zizhen, “If only the caster… if only Wei-qianbei can break the spell, how can we transform him back?”
“Ah, the thing is, we cannot,” his brother replies.
The juniors gasp. “What!” Jingyi exclaims, and his hands come down with a smack that rattles the table. “So he’s going to stay like this forever? No way am I going to feed Wei-qianbei like a servant! It’s enough work to feed his donkey!”
Jin Rulan stares at Wei Ying with a complicated expression. He has stopped his attempts to chase Wei Ying away. As a result, Wei Ying has started nibbling at his sock. A rabbit tooth-shaped hole is forming.
Sizhui is also quiet, his lips pressed together. Lan Wangji wants to comfort him. Later, he promises himself.
Ouyang Zizhen asks, “But is there no counter-spell?”
Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Impossible. We would require the original talisman to create a counter-spell.” There was no copy of the talisman among Wei Ying’s belongings; Lan Wangji went through all of Wei Ying’s notes and possessions to make sure nothing was overlooked. No one could design a counter to an unknown spell.
(Unless your name is Wei Ying and you are a genius.)
Ouyang Zizhen and Jingyi trade horrified looks. They appear to realize that their Wei-qianbei truly is a rabbit now, maybe forever. Jingyi whispers something to himself, his mouth forming around a word that Lan Wangji deciphers as… ‘Bun-qianbei’?
Lan Xichen tries to appease them. “It does not mean that he will never turn back.”
The juniors’ eyes turn back to his brother, hopeful.
“These kinds of spells are reversible if the caster only wishes it. I believe Wei-gongzi only needs the will to turn back, and it will happen naturally without the need for a counter-spell.” His eyes meet Lan Wangji’s as if to reassure him specifically with this information.
And it is reassuring, but…
Jingyi grumbles, “You gave us all a scare there, Zewu-jun. Ha ha… For a moment, I thought…”
Lan Xichen chuckles. “My apologies. That was not my intention.” As if to apologize, he pushes the plate of honey cakes closer to Jingyi and pours him tea. Jingyi then quickly returns the favor, realizing that he cannot just let his sect leader serve him.
“So we just have to wait it out?” Jin Rulan says, before his head snaps up. “But wait! Why hasn’t my uncle turned back yet, if that’s all?”
Lan Wangji does not fail to hear how Jin Rulan addresses Wei Ying as his uncle. He hopes that Wei Ying hears this. He is not yet sure if Wei Ying comprehends human language in his current form, but there have been instances where it seemed that way.
“Right, it’s weird,” Ouyang Zhizhen says. “Wei-qianbei stayed a bunny all winter, right? That’s an eternity! Why hasn't he turned back by now, if it’s that easy?”
“Perhaps he enjoys the life of a rabbit,” Lan Xichen says with a knowing look. “I cannot fault him.”
Maybe his brother sees it too.
There has been a nagging feeling in Lan Wangji’s gut ever since he found Wei Ying inside the body of a rabbit, and it only grows stronger the more he learns about his condition.
It is that drawing. He cannot forget the drawing, still tucked into the folds of his robes.
Wei Ying sketches often, and his sketches are masterful. But never has Lan Wangji seen a sketch or a painting of Wei Ying’s that can compare to the drawing of the rabbit clearing. There is just something about it, in the wild strokes, in the details that breathe life into each of the (one hundred twenty-four) rabbits, in the spaces that are not filled with ink. There is a yearning.
This is Wei Ying’s yearning, and Lan Wangji wishes to grasp it in both hands and carry it to wherever its fulfillment waits. If only he could understand it.
And then, there is Wei Ying’s current predicament.
Lan Wangji’s gaze lands on Wei Ying (how could it be anywhere else?). Wei Ying has gnawed a hole in Jin Rulan’s second sock and seems to be considering what to destroy next, eyes scanning the room. Wei Ying does not seem to mind living the life of a rabbit. In fact, he appears happy.
Maybe, wonders that nagging part inside Lan Wangji, maybe happier than when he was in his human body—no, Mo Xuanyu’s body.
There was a time in Lan Wangji’s life when he too envied the rabbits for the simple and peaceful life they led.
“Well, well!” his brother says, pulling Lan Wangji out of his thoughts. He stands and claps his hands together, smiles down at the juniors. “Let us get to work now, shall we? The sooner we start, the sooner you will have your Wei-qianbei back.”
Seeing the puzzled expressions on the juniors' faces, Lan Xichen elaborates, “We may not be able to transform Wei-gongzi back ourselves, but we can still help him, can we not?”
“How, Zewu-jun???” comes a chorus of eager voices. It is touching to see the juniors looking up to his brother, waiting for his wisdom to be shared.
“Why, we have to give him a nice incentive, of course,” Lan Xichen says.
“An incentive?” asks Jin Rulan.
Lan Xichen inclines his head. “The incentive to turn back. A little reminder. Something to remind him to be human, to want to be human again.”
The juniors give off oohs and aahs. Immediately, they begin discussing ideas.
Lan Wangji’s mind goes blank. He feels unable to participate. If Wei Ying is happy like this, if he wants to be a rabbit rather than a human…
“But I don’t know,” he hears Jingyi say. “Wei-qianbei is having so much fun tearing Jin Ling’s socks to shreds. How can we convince him there’s something better than that?”
“Hey!” Jin Rulan says.
Sizhui hums. “Maybe we should give Wei-qianbei something he really likes?”
A contemplative silence falls over the Hanshi. The juniors and even his brother are deep in thought.
“Oh, I know!” exclaims Ouyang Zizhen. “How about some spicy food? Wei-qianbei loves his food ridiculously spicy.”
At Ouyang Zizhen’s suggestion, Wei Ying’s head snaps up, attentive.
It is a good suggestion, but Lan Wangji is an expert in rabbit nutrition, and spicy food is not the right nutrition for rabbits.
But another part of him thinks: Wei Ying deserves good things. Wei Ying deserves the things he likes. It would be wrong to deny him. And rabbits do tolerate small amounts of spice…
The juniors seem to recognize his reluctance. His brother, too. “Wangji, a small amount should not be harmful, do you not agree?”
Lan Wangji is about to say no. He has a strong will, and almost nothing can break it. But Wei Ying must sense it, must see the ‘No’ form on the tip of his tongue, and suddenly, he has Wei Ying pawing at his knees, looking up at him with such a sad and heartbroken rabbit expression, as if to say, Lan Zhan! So heartless. Will you deny me even this tiny pleasure?
Lan Wangji yields. He reaches into his qiankun pouch and retrieves a bottle of chili oil. “Only a little.”
Jin Rulan gapes. “Hanguang-jun, why do you carry this around with you?”
Lan Xichen laughs knowingly. Lan Wangji glares at him. His brother ignores him and says, “Well, it is almost lunchtime. Jingyi, would you please inform the servants about our lunch arrangements? And to add a rabbit-friendly dish?”
“Yes, Zewu-jun!”
Wei Ying remains hyper-vigilant as he waits for lunch to arrive, his eyes never leaving the bottle of chili oil, as if it could vanish into thin air.
“Impatient,” Lan Wangji says. But he is fond, so fond.
Lunch arrives about half a shichen later, but no one is interested in their own meal. The small plate of greens designated for Wei Ying is the center of attention.
Lan Wangji uncorks the bottle, and gingerly drips a tiny amount of chili oil onto of the plate, then mixes everything together. He pushes the plate to Wei Ying, who sniffs it with interest. His tiny nose twitches.
Then he dives in.
Wei Ying devours his meal with a vigor that would put even the most ravenous rabbit—or pig—to shame. The greens that were so unappealing yesterday disappear in an instant. Lan Wangji cannot reprimand him.
The food is gone in no time.
With his belly full, Wei Ying collapses in satiated satisfaction. He looks like a very contented rabbit; Lan Wangji can tell by the soft rabbit purr he emits.
He must have missed his spice.
However, the desired result does not come to pass. They wait a while and eat their own lunch in the meantime, but Wei Ying remains a rabbit.
“And I was so sure it would work…” Ouyang Zizhen grumbles.
Lan Wangji knows one fact about Wei Ying: it is never that simple.
*
Early the next morning, as Lan Wangji is making plans to take Wei Ying to play with the other rabbits, there is a frantic knocking at the door.
“Hanguang-jun, we figured it out!” an excited voice shouts from behind the door, and Lan Wangji already dreads whatever the juniors have come up with this time.
When he opens the door, an eagerly grinning Jingyi greets him. “Emperor’s Smile! The cure is Emperor’s Smile!”
“…No.” Lan Wangji makes to close the door.
It is not as if this is the first time. Since yesterday's failed chili oil cure attempt, the juniors have visited the Jingshi several times, suggesting more and more outrageous ideas. Once, they even suggested that Wei Ying be set loose on the the rude innkeeper in Kangbao Town to exact revenge on her.
“Please, could you at least hear us out, Hanguang-jun?” Ouyang Zizhen says somewhere from behind Jingyi. “We think we’re really onto something this time!”
Pointless, Lan Wangji thinks.
Yet it is futile to fight four over-excited teenagers, so he lets them in. He will hear them out, let them play with Wei Ying for a while and then see them to the door. Except for Sizhui, who may stay as long as he wants.
But he knows that they only want to help. Wei Ying must be moved to rabbit tears to see the dedicated juniors running themselves ragged to find his cure.
“They have grown into such outstanding young masters, don’t you think, Lan Zhan?” he would say.
Lan Wangji misses Wei Ying’s voice.
The boys let themselves in, and before anything, surround Wei Ying for a morning cuddle. Only Sizhui trails in slowly after the others. Lan Wangji can tell from his face that he did not vote for this idea.
At least one of them respects the sect rules.
He gestures for them to sit and levels the boys with his best expressionless glare.
Jingyi squirms in his seat. “We know that alcohol is prohibited,” is how he begins.
How good that he remembers.
“But!” Jingyi continues, “Wei-qianbei doesn’t love anything more than Emperor’s Smile. It’s common knowledge. The most common of common knowledge out there. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and Wei-qianbei drinks Emperor’s Smile like water—that kind of common knowledge!” As an afterthought, he adds, “Or he would drink it like water if he wasn’t broke all the time, ha ha.”
“M-more importantly,” Jin Rulan continues with a stutter, because Jingyi wilts under Lan Wangji’s pointed glare, “my uncle will be so smug when he gets to drink Emperor’s Smile here in the Cloud Recesses. Doing prohibited things might remind him that he is human! If there's anything he loves more than Emperor’s Smile, it’s antagonizing the Lans!”
“And to top it all off!” Ouyang Zizhen says. “It will be most effective if we let him drink the stuff in front of Old M—Lan-xiansheng!”
Hm.
Lan Wangji considers the idea for a fleeting moment. The reasoning is sound and would make Wei Ying very proud of the boys.
“So,” Jingyi says, and in the next moment, he has pulled a jug of said wine out of thin air—or likely, out of his qiankun pouch. “Had one set aside, just in case, you know?”
“Lan Jingyi,” Lan Wangji scolds.
(He sees no need to mention how many jugs of Emperor’s Smile he keeps hidden under a floorboard in the Jingshi. That secret is strictly between him, Wei Ying, and said floorboard.)
Jingyi cradles the jar in his arms. “But Hanguang-jun, what if it works? We could think of it as a medical tonic?”
“No,” Lan Wangji says.
“But—”
“No. No alcohol for rabbits, not even in moderation. It is poisonous.” He will not let Wei Ying die of alcohol poisoning in his weakened state.
But it is too late. While the juniors were suffering from Lan Wangi’s icy scolding, Wei Ying must have seen a window of opportunity. The next thing Lan Wangji knows, Wei Ying has tackled the wine in Jingyi’s hands and is lapping at the rolled-over jug.
“Wei Ying!”
Quickly, he tries to save what is left to save and grabs Wei Ying. Wei Ying kicks and flails in his hands, but Lan Wangji will not let him go. “I haven't finished drinking yet, Lan Zhan! How cruel of you!!!” Lan Wangji can just imagine Wei Ying saying.
Sizhui and the others make the jug disappear and deal with the spilled wine. Only when there is no trace left does Lan Wangji set Wei Ying down.
Wei Ying is…
“What’s wrong with him?” squeaks Ouyang Zizhen.
Clearly, the alcohol has taken effect. At first, Wei Ying does what he always does when he is a happy rabbit—and runs in circles. This soon becomes more of an oval, then a squishy loop. Then, he stumbles, and when he gets up again, he runs headfirst into Lan Wangji.
He has lost all sense of direction.
Although most people in the cultivation world would call him emotionless, Lan Wangji has experienced several instances in his life when he was afraid. When he was seven years old and they told him he did not have to bother seeing his mother anymore. When they were on the brink of war, with the Cloud Recesses burned and no word from his brother. When the war broke out at last, and he spent months searching the lands for any sign of Wei Ying. When the war was over and everyone celebrated peace, but he could only watch as Wei Ying headed toward certain demise. When, after all was said and done, there was suddenly a child in his care, ill and left alone in this cruel world, like Lan Wangji.
And several other instances, all involving Sizhui’s, his brother’s, and most often Wei Ying’s safety (because only the latter has no sense of self-preservation).
This is one of those moments.
Lan Wangji carefully cradles Wei Ying in his hands and passes spiritual energy to him. He cannot overwhelm this delicate body, but even a small amount of spiritual energy is enough to burn off the alcohol before the toxin can damage any organs.
When it is done, Wei Ying slumps in his grip, lethargically happy.
The three guilty juniors and Sizhui are beside themselves. “Oh no...” Jingyi cries. “I’m so sorry, Bun—Wei-qianbei. What have I done…”
“I-is he all right, Hanguang-jun?” asks Sizhui, pale with worry.
“Mn, there is no poison left.” He knows that he has erased all traces and that there will be no permanent damage, but he is still on edge.
The juniors, in their guilt, pat the rabbit’s head and massage his little feet in apology. Soon, Wei Ying dozes off, looking content.
“…So, that clearly didn’t work,” Ouyang Zizhen says after a while.
“What now?” asks Jin Rulan. “There’s got to be something that works!”
The chatter starts again.
“What other things does Wei-qianbei like?”
“Hm… Talismans?”
“Oh! His flute?”
“Fierce corpses, maybe?! He loves fierce corpses.”
Lan Wangji has had enough. He stands with Wei Ying still in his arms and opens the door with a pointed look at the juniors. “Out.”
He makes sure to signal to Sizhui that he may stay, but Sizhui leaves with a rueful smile. He understands that Lan Wangji would like to be alone, even if he is not angry with him.
Jingyi lingers at the door. “Please forgive me, Hanguang-jun…” he trails off, and with a look down at the dozing Wei Ying adds, “…and Wei-qianbei.”
The juniors shuffle out and the Jingshi is quiet again.
Lan Wangji sets Wei Ying down on his rabbit bed. For a moment, he thinks about calling for a doctor. But no one in the Cloud Recesses is a greater expert in rabbit care than Lan Wangji, so he refrains in the end.
He feels Wei Ying’s heartbeat under his hand and closes his eyes. The heartbeat is faster than a human’s, but steady, healthy. Wei Ying gives a little rabbit huff and burrows into Lan Wangji’s hand, and Lan Wangji’s own heartbeat speeds up, almost as if trying to harmonize with Wei Ying’s.
When Wei Ying wakes again, he makes him sip water and nibble on some greens that Wei Ying would probably despise. Boring! Flavorless! My poor tastebuds, Lan Zhan!
He watches over the small creature for the entire time, gently scratching his belly.
By evening, Wei Ying is back to his usual destructive self, and Lan Wangji can breathe easy again.
But like the juniors, he cannot help but wonder. What is holding you back, Wei Ying?
*
A month passes, but Wei Ying stubbornly remains a rabbit.
It is not for a lack of trying on the juniors’ part. They continue to disturb his and Wei Ying’s peace and quiet with new ideas at regular intervals, although Jin Rulan and Ouyang Zizhen reluctantly return home at their sects’ requests.
Lan Wangji easily settles into this new life with Wei Ying. It is not a bad life.
Most mornings, Lan Wangji wakes up to Wei Ying hopping over to greet him, his black ears flapping with each jump. Even on days when Wei Ying sleeps in, he wakes easily at Lan Wangji’s coaxing. Easier than Wei Ying ever did.
It is unimaginable, but Wei Ying is an early riser now; it must be the rabbit instincts.
Throughout the day, Lan Wangji feeds him, brushes his fur, coordinates his naps, thinks of new treats and games, arranges play sessions with the other rabbits, showers him with attention, and it is all… quite domestic.
When Lan Wangji teaches or attends meetings, he leaves Wei Ying in Sizhui’s and Jingyi’s enthusiastic care. His brother also seeks Wei Ying’s company. There is a kind of comfort that humans cannot provide yet small animals can, and it appears that the addition of an adorable rabbit to their lives gives his brother the final push he needs to come out of his isolation. He actively invites them to the Hanshi, he smiles more often, and he talks freely again. The three of them spend peaceful spring days on the Hanshi’s back porch, he and his brother watching Wei Ying chase butterflies.
They keep Wei Ying’s predicament a secret from other sect members, especially from his uncle. Lan Wangji does not trust most people with Wei Ying, and if knowledge of Wei Ying’s situation spreads, Wei Ying will be easy prey.
Or “dead rabbit meat,” in Wei Ying’s words.
Sometimes Lan Wangji worries that Wei Ying might forget that he is a human if he continues to live like this. That one day Wei Ying might wake up and have no recollection of his human life, thinking that he is truly a rabbit. Sometimes he fears that this may already be the case.
But Wei Ying still asks for chili oil, he still likes to play pranks on Shufu, he still…
He still seeks Lan Wangji’s attention the most.
Lan Wangji is selfish, and he knows it. Like the juniors, he could pour all his energy into finding a cure. But he does not.
Now that Wei Ying has returned to him as a helpless small animal, he allows Lan Wangji to care for him unconditionally, something that seemed impossible before. Lan Wangji can now make sure that he eats and sleeps well, and that he is not in need of anything. For too long, Lan Wangji had held back for fear of crowding Wei Ying, of pushing too far, restricting his desire for freedom, and for once, Wei Ying does not appear to be running away from him.
For once, there is no threat of rejection.
He is selfish, he knows, but Wei Ying, as he is now, does not seem to mind, so he continues to indulge the rabbit, and thus himself, in this most selfish way.
It is one of those uneventful, peaceful days when Sizhui and Jingyi find them in the back hills, where Lil’ Apple has made her temporary home. Lan Wangji sits leisurely on the grass with Wei Ying on his lap, feeding him the occasional treat, while Lil’ Apple dozes under a tree, satiated after an apple-laden meal. A gentle breeze ruffles the tall grasses.
Jingyi gasps. “Are those dried goji berries, Hanguang-jun?”
“Mn.”
“But goji berries are expensive! And it’s not even the season,” he cries in shock. “Aren’t they wasted on a rabbit?”
Lan Wangji fixes him with a glare.
Sizhui sits down next to Lan Wangji and pets Wei Ying’s head. “But Jingyi, he’s Wei-qianbei, not a rabbit.” He coos at Wei Ying with a soft expression. “How are you today, Wei-qianbei? Did you have fun playing with Lil’ Apple?”
Despite his earlier words, Sizhui also treats Wei Ying like the adorable rabbit he currently is.
Lan Wangji could swear that he sees Wei Ying casting a smug look up at Jingyi, as if to say, See, I’ve got them wrapped around my fing—rabbit claw! Or maybe, it is just his imagination.
Jingyi huffs. “Spoiled rabbit.”
Lan Wangji strongly disagrees. He is not spoiling Wei Ying. It is just that Wei Ying deserves that much. Only the best for Wei Ying, he thinks.
“Whatever,” Jingyi says. “Hanguang-jun, we did some more research.”
“Mn,” he acknowledges. He does not believe that their research will lead to anything, but he is grateful nonetheless.
“We were thinking. Maybe it’s something a little more sentimental that will turn him back? We thought a change of scenery might help. How about Lotus Pier? He’ll remember his childhood!”
Lan Wangji doubts that Lotus Pier will bring back good memories. It might just give Wei Ying more reason to stay in his current form. Is that why you won’t turn back? Is it the painful memories?
He feeds Wei Ying another berry, and Wei Ying nibbles at it heartily. “Chew slowly,” Lan Wangji berates.
Wei Ying slows down. Lan Wangji scratches behind his smooth ears.
Just watching the treats disappear into the rabbit’s little mouth gives him a rush of warmth. It almost reminds him of the time he cared for Sizhui when he was still a toddler, and just getting him to eat was a monumental achievement.
He feels Sizhui’s eyes on him. “Hanguang-jun…” he says somewhat hesitantly, “could it be that you don’t wish Wei-qianbei to turn back to normal?”
Lan Wangji raises a brow.
“It’s just… You could fool me. You look so content like this.”
He looks down and meets Wei Ying’s eyes. Wei Ying cocks his head as if he wants to hear his answer as well. Or perhaps he just wants another berry.
Lan Wangji indulges him. “This is the last one,” he says sternly. Rabbits should not eat too many treats, after all.
“Hanguang-jun?” Sizhui asks.
Sizhui and Jingyi look at him with expectant eyes. Maybe they are right in assuming that he is reluctant to turn Wei Ying back.
Of course, he wants Wei Ying back. He misses Wei Ying in human form, misses hearing his laughter, seeing his easy smile, being teased by him relentlessly. But…
If Wei Ying does not want to turn back, how can Lan Wangji force him?
(If Wei Ying wants to be free, Lan Wangji cannot trap him in Gusu.)
He shakes his head. “It does not matter. Only when Wei Ying is ready… Only when he wants to turn back, only then will I wish it.” He looks down at Wei Ying. Meets his eyes, and says, “I will wait.”
And if Wei Ying is happier living as a rabbit and wants to stay that way forever, Lan Wangji thinks, then he can live with that. He misses Wei Ying to his core, but this is good, too.
Wei Ying being alive and happy—that is enough.
At his words, Wei Ying freezes, berry half-eaten. He is still, not even his eyes blink, but he stares up at Lan Wangji with an expression he has never seen on Wei Ying before, at least not in his current form.
It looks human.
Then, from one moment to the next, Wei Ying, still on his lap, starts thrashing around. Lan Wangji does not know what is happening. Is Wei Ying in pain? Frigthened? Is there a dog nearby? He looks around, but see no immediate danger.
What happens then cannot possibly be described in existing words. Surely no cultivation theory could make sense of it, nor could any physical rules of the world apply to it, so Lan Wangji’s brain must simply refuse to process what he sees.
In short, everything changes.
Everything changes except for one thing: Wei Ying is still blinking up at him, only now with very human eyes.
The weight on his lap has increased considerably.
…
Wei Ying… a very human Wei Ying is sitting on his lap.
It is hard to draw a breath. “Wei Ying.”
“Hey, you,” Wei Ying says, with the voice he has longed to hear, though raw with disuse, as Lan Wangji notes.
Lan Wangji can only repeat, “Wei Ying.”
At that, the smile he has missed so much breaks over Wei Ying’s face. “Lan Zhan! Ah Lan Zhan, my dear friend!” he rasps out. “It’s so good to see you—and with human eyes, ha ha!”
Yes, he missed that smile, that voice, that laugh.
He would get lost in Wei Ying’s warm eyes, but then something registers. He feels his ears heat. Wei Ying is here, half sitting on his lap, and bare as the day he was born.
Promiscuity is prohibited, his brain provides helpfully.
The hot rush of adrenaline pumps through his veins. He could swear that he can feel Wei Ying’s warm skin through his five layers of robes.
Maybe if we were alone… he thinks, but he would rather no one (except himself) see Wei Ying in his undressed state.
With all the self-control he has left, Lan Wangji does not look.
Stiffly, he shrugs off his outer robe and drapes it over Wei Ying’s shoulders. It is not enough to hide… all of Wei Ying. His ears feel hot, so hot that it must be obvious. He longs to look, he longs to touch, he longs to do many things right now.
Never before has his restraint been tested to this extent.
Sizhui, face red as a beet and eyes shut tight, blindly hands over his own outer robe, Jingyi too, accompanied by an exaggerated gagging sound. “Why, Wei-qianbei?! Why do you have to do this to us?!” he cries.
Lan Wangji covers Wei Ying, while Wei Ying cackles at their embarrassment. “Look at all these red-faced Lans!”
“Shameless,” Lan Wangji says, too fond. Wei Ying’s laughter breathes true spring back into the Cloud Recesses.
When Wei Ying is finally decent, he makes to stand up. Lan Wangji does not want to let him go, nor does he have to. Wei Ying’s legs buckle and Lan Wangji catches him. His legs wobble like a newborn’s, and he huffs a disgruntled laugh. “Oops, ahaha, legs. Human legs.”
It is no surprise; he has lived nearly two seasons in the body of a rabbit.
“Fetch a healer,” he instructs Jingyi. “We will be inside the Jingshi.”
Jingyi runs off, still half gagging, half laughing. He wears his relief so openly that Lan Wangji does not reprimand him for running. Besides, Wei Ying’s well-being is more important, and Lan Wangji will not rest until a healer has examined him thoroughly.
They are a short walking distance away from the Jingshi. He considers sweeping Wei Ying up into his arms, and not for the first time in his life, he wishes he could act on his fantasies. Kiss a blindfolded Wei Ying against a tree at Phoenix Mountain, confess his love loudly in front of ally and enemy, ask Wei Ying to stay with him instead of letting him go, or just go with him if Wei Ying is unwilling to stay in Gusu.
He has too many regrets when it comes to Wei Ying.
In the end, he does not carry Wei Ying. Instead, he lets Wei Ying limp down the stretches of grass and rocks, and then up the steps of the Jingshi, barefoot, while Lan Wangji keeps a hand on his elbow to keep him steady. Lan Wangji reminds himself to check his feet for splinters, later.
He helps Wei Ying sit down on the bed and checks his vitals first, then his meridians. Wei Ying fidgets over his ministrations, as if his skin is itchy and too big for him. Fortunately, nothing much seems to be wrong—his pulse is only slightly faster than normal and his spiritual energy is somewhat depleted, which Lan Wangji mentally adds to his list.
Seeing that Wei Ying has returned safely to his—Mo Xuanyu’s—body, only shows Wei Ying’s genius. It was a powerful and dangerous spell, but it was honed to perfection. One would expect nothing less from Wei Ying.
“Have you been in this state all this time?” he asks.
Wei Ying scratches his head. “Don’t ask, Lan Zhan, it’s too humiliating. It sure felt like a rabbit eternity!” He looks around with furrowed brows. “How long was it, really?”
Lan Wangji notes further: lost sense of time. “You disappeared in the fall; now it is early spring.”
Wei Ying appears speechless for once. “Oh. That’s… wow.” He laughs, but his voice is still hoarse. He clears his throat softly.
Ever so thoughtful, Sizhui joins them at the bed and hands Wei Ying a cup of water. “Wei-qianbei.”
Wei Ying beams at Sizhui. “Sizhui! My filial A-Yuan, you saved little bunny me from certain demise! Imagine if a wolf had gotten the better of me! Where would I be without you?”
Sizhui smiles through the blush rising to his cheeks.
“Wei Ying, be serious.” Yet he agrees that Sizhui has earned all the praise in the world for this deed.
“Okay, okay.” Wei Ying goes to down the cup of water. Sizhui refills it immediately.
“Do you feel any discomfort?” Lan Wangji asks next.
“I feel all peachy. All rabbity!” At Lan Wangji’s scowl, he says, “Ah, don’t look at me like that, Lan Zhan. So much fuss over nothing. You’re so embarrassing. I’m fine!”
Lan Wangji calms his mind. Patience. He needs patience.
“How did you turn into a rabbit, Wei-qianbei?” Sizhui asks the question that has been on everyone’s mind.
Wei Ying perks up at the question, and Lan Wangji knows that an impromptu lecture is sure to follow. “Oh, you see, there’s this talisman I’ve been working on for a while. I thought it all through, I mean it! There are no risks, it was foolproof. And I have outdone myself this time, I would say. Imagine being able to turn into any kind of animal on a whim, the things you could do!” He pauses for a moment. “But… I didn’t think of one little detail…”
At that moment, Jingyi bursts in with Healer Lan Hong in tow.
The medical examination is of greater importance than continuing Wei Ying’s lecture, so Lan Wangji stands up to give Lan Hong enough space.
Wei Ying complains all throughout the examination.
“I’m fine, no need to probe there of all places!”, and, “Lan Zhan, Lan-daifu is bullying me!”, and, “Ow ow ow… Such brutal treatment after all the hardships I’ve endured…”
Lan Wangji calmly listens to his enthusiastic complaints.
When he is finished, Lan Hong clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“So,” Jingyi asks with a straight face, “will Bun-qianbei live, Daifu?”
“You little—!” Wei Ying, affronted, tries to get up and go after a snickering Jingyi, but Lan Wangji pushes him back onto the bed. There is no real resistance; Wei Ying is truly worn out. Lan Wangji hopes they can wrap this up soon to allow Wei Ying his much-needed rest.
“What is your diagnosis?” Lan Wangji asks Lan Hong.
Lan Hong shakes his head at Jingyi’s misconduct, then turns to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying. “Wei-gongzi’s qi is a little off, but that is to be expected. As long as it does not deviate further, I see no danger. It should return to normal after plenty of rest.”
Lan Wangji nods, reassured.
“Also, some of Wei-gongzi’s muscles are weakened, and unsurprisingly, you are somewhat malnourished. However, to help your body adjust to the physical changes, I suggest a balanced but light diet for the next ten days.”
“Ten days?” Wei Ying cries. “Ten days of Lan food?!”
Ten days is not so bad. By comparison, Lan Wangji has been searching for Wei Ying for an entire season.
“No more rabbit food, please,” Wei Ying pleads. He tugs on Lan Wangji’s sleeve. “Hey, Lan Zhan, meat is allowed… right?”
“No meat until the doctor gives permission,” Lan Wangji says.
“Meat may be added to the diet on the fifth day if the recovery proceeds smoothly,” Lan Hong says, then adds as an afterthought, “Only outside Cloud Recesses perimeters, of course.”
Wei Ying groans theatrically. “This is treason! Treason, I say! Ten more days of rabbit food? And no meat? What about wine? I have suffered such torments, and this is what I get? Ugh, Gusu Lan food… No flavor, no substance….”
Jingyi snorts.
As Wei Ying continues to whine about how unfortunate he is, all the while still messing with Lan Wangji’s sleeve, Lan Hong takes his leave with a bow. “I will return tomorrow for a follow-up examination.”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, “Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji, Lan-er-gege… you can’t do this to me…”
Lan Wangji feels serene. For a long time, he had feared that he would never hear Wei Ying complain like this again, so loud that all of Cloud Recesses could hear.
“Lan-er-gege? Lan-er-gege! Don’t ignore me!”
Exactly like that.
“Wei Ying. Behave,” he says.
At that, somehow, Wei Ying somehow quietens. He scrunches his nose, almost like a rabbit. It says a lot about his condition that he obeys so easily.
Lan Wangji’s sleeve is still in Wei Ying’s clutches. He frees it—not because he wants to but because he should—and levels Wei Ying with the sternest look he can muster.
“But ten days, I’d rather kill myself…”
“No killing.”
“But Lan Zhan…”
It is a weak protest. Lan Wangji knows that he has won.
“Ugh, okay, now that that’s settled,” Jingyi says, and Lan Wangji realizes that he has forgotten about the presence of the juniors in the room. “Wei-qianbei, do you know how much we suffered because of you? Don’t you want to apologize?”
Wei Ying scoffs. “To Lan Zhan and Sizhui, sure. But to you, why?”
Lan Wangji is secretly grateful for the distraction. It will be hard enough to keep Wei Ying’s mind off his need for meat and wine over the next week.
“Hey, I was the one who cleaned out your litter box every day!” Jingyi says, indignant.
“Enough, Jingyi,” Sizhui says. They have a silent battle of wills for a moment, then Jingyi huffs in defeat and slumps against the wall. Sizhui gives Wei Ying a sympathetic smile. “Are you really all right, Wei-qianbei? You’re not hiding any discomfort, are you?”
“Ah. Really, there’s no need to worry about this one,” Wei Ying dismisses him.
Sizhui’s smile grows with relief. But there still seems to be something on his mind. “Um, Qianbei…” Sizhui begins. “About what you said earlier…”
“Yes? What did I say? Jog my memory.”
“About the talisman. You said there was something you had not considered?”
“Ah, right,” says Wei Ying. He sits up and crosses his legs as if preparing to tell a long story. Even when he should be resting, he is too full of restless energy to lie down.
Lan Wangji does not have the heart to reprimand him.
“I didn’t think of a small but critical detail!”
The juniors are waiting with bated breath for him to reveal whatever it is. Lan Wangji also needs to know so that he can prevent this accident from ever happening again.
“You see, when you use this transformation talisman, everything you are changes. Your spirit turns from human to rabbit. And that’s…”
Sizhui asks, “Is it dangerous?”
Wei Ying hums in thought. “Not dangerous, no. But rabbits and humans don’t think alike, you see. Human me and rabbit me have different problems. So how could I have known?”
“Known what?! Spit it out already!” Jingyi, the impatient boy, says.
But Lan Wangji himself is burning with curiosity.
Wei Ying says, cackling, “How was I supposed to know that bunny brains are just so tiny! There’s no room for complex thoughts!”
…What can you say to that?
“You… what?” says Jingyi.
Wei Ying grins. “How shall I put it? My priorities shifted, I guess? All we—uh, rabbits—care about is eating when they, ah, we’re hungry, and sleeping when we’re tired, playing when we’re bored, and running when there’s danger!”
Sizhui and Jingyi stare at him in disbelief.
No one dares to call him out, but they are all thinking the same thing. Lan Wangji’s heart squeezes in his chest. Wei Ying still seems quite confused about his identity. It will take him some time to get used to being human again, and to thinking of himself as human.
If Lan Wangji wasn’t so worried, it would be endearing.
“Anyway, I promise you one thing," Wei Ying says. “I’ll never make jokes about roasting bunnies again!”
Ridiculous, Lan Wangji thinks.
Wei Ying continues to fill the Jingshi with his chatter. He gets Sizhui and Jingyi to tell him about the months he missed, coaxes some sect gossip out of Lan Wangji, and makes rabbit jokes whenever the opportunity arises.
It is clear to Lan Wangji that the boys struggle to part from Wei Ying’s bedside, though Jingyi masks it with annoyance. They must have missed him terribly.
“This will be the end, right?” Sizhui says with hopeful eyes. “Will you stay in Cloud Recesses now?”
“Ah ha ha, I’ll think about it.”
Lan Wangji does not feel reassured.
Will it end here?
*
Ten days later, when Wei Ying is allowed to eat meat and drink wine again, Lan Wangji retrieves a jar of Emperor’s Smile from under his floorboard, much to Wei Ying’s delight.
They sit outside on the steps of the Jingshi. The Cloud Recesses are quiet at this hour, except for the spring evening sounds of small mountain birds gossiping in the twilight.
And, of course, Wei Ying’s chatter.
“—you see? Rabbit life isn’t that easy. You’re at the bottom of the food chain, and if you don’t run fast enough, the big birds will get you. Pheasants of all birds! I used to hunt pheasants all the time in my youth! They must’ve smelled their dead brothers and sisters on me. Revenge is a dish best served cold, they say, but if you ask me, roasted pheasants taste best—”
This is what peace feels like, Lan Wangji thinks. He would listen to Wei Ying talk for all eternity, if only he were allowed.
Between pauses in his monologues, Wei Ying takes long gulps of wine. The way his head tips back and exposes the expanse of his throat looks almost obscene to Lan Wangji. He has to avert his eyes to regulate himself, or else he would be staring at the drop of escaped liquid that slowly travels down the smooth planes of skin, then disappears out of Lan Wangji’s sight beneath the collar of his robes.
Maybe he is staring. Lan Wangji knows that he cannot allow himself to look for more than a few heartbeats, or he will…
“…So, rabbit life really isn’t all that easy. But in a weird way, it felt easier. I guess humans are just too complicated, you know?” Wei Ying gulps down more wine and moans in delight. “Ahh, I missed this taste.”
Lan Wangji swallows hard.
Wei Ying turns to him as if only now he remembers his audience. “Lan Zhan!” He pouts. “You’re so quiet, even for yourself. You’re listening, right?”
“Mn.” He chances another glimpse at Wei Ying and sees his pouting lips, damp from the Emperor’s Smile.
It was a mistake to look.
He wishes he could… He wants—
Quickly, he looks away again.
Before Wei Ying can catch on to Lan Wangji’s shameless thoughts, a gust of wind blows by, making Wei Ying visibly shudder. The air in the Cloud Recesses is still crisp and cold in the evenings, and Wei Ying appears to feel the cold more since he has turned back.
“It’s the fur. Came in handy when it was freezing cold,” Wei Ying had told him.
Lan Wangji misses the soft, black rabbit fur just a little. He wonders if Wei Ying’s hair would be just as soft.
His hand twitches. He wants to touch. He wants, he wants, he wants…
He remembers how he used to sit on the porch just like this with the little creature tucked up against his side. It was easy then, taking care of a vulnerable rabbit, providing, protecting, indulging.
It is difficult now. Wei Ying is not that rabbit anymore. He is back to being Wei Ying and his frivolous yet devilishly charming self. It is truly unfair that Lan Wangji is no longer at liberty to touch him. How will he survive?
“But I can’t believe you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, unaware of his thoughts. “You took a rabbit to the Jingshi and even let it sleep in your bed. You’ve become such a rule breaker!”
“Pets are prohibited,” he says, “but Wei Ying is too unruly to pass as a pet.”
Wei Ying gapes at him. “Did you tell a joke? Did Lan Zhan just tell me a joke?” He throws his head back and laughs, then shivers again. The evening has truly grown cold; it should be nearing haishi, but Lan Wangji does not want this night to end yet.
He takes off his outer robe to wrap it around Wei Ying.
“Why, Lan Zhan, that’s so unnecessary,” Wei Ying says, but he accepts the gesture.
Wei Ying is back to wearing his well-worn black robes. The two layers barely keep him warm enough. He has refused to wear one of Lan Wangji’s warmer outer robes until the new set of robes Lan Wangji commissioned for him is ready to be picked up from the tailor.
It might be for the best, because seeing Wei Ying smothered in Lan white does a lot of things to him.
“Seriously though,” Wei Ying says, and the sudden change in tone makes Lan Wangji look over. “Thank you for taking care of me when I was a rabbit. I caused you quite a bit of trouble, didn’t I?” His voice is devoid of the usual humor, it is almost subdued, but a soft smile plays on his lips.
Lan Wangji shakes his head. “Thanks are unnecessary.” He holds Wei Ying’s gaze, wants him to understand. “I wanted to.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan. You’re too good,” Wei Ying says.
“Not true.” Of course, Wei Ying fails to understand. It is nothing new. This has never been about Lan Wangji being good, quite the opposite. Does Wei Ying truly think that he would do all of this for someone else? He is selfish, selfish with want, but Wei Ying does not see it.
Wei Ying just smiles at him in that admiring way and sings waxing praise about the accomplished and great Hanguang-jun, who helps the poor and needy and makes maidens faint in a swoon, and Lan Wangji’s mind weeps. Why are you so… blind? Oblivious? Endearing?
“…so gallant, so righteous! How are you not wedded yet, Lan Zhan? It’s a crime. Imagine all the pining maidens waiting for your hand in marriage!”
Lan Wangji wants to say many things. He decides to say, “Why does Wei Ying think I wish to marry a pining maiden?”
“Why not? You could choose the most lovely wife. But she must also be clever! You need someone who can match you in beauty and wit. Ah, but that sounds impossible—who in the cultivation world would compare to this handsome and brilliant—”
“Wei Ying is handsome and a genius,” Lan Wangji interrupts.
For a moment that seems to last forever, Wei Ying stares at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.
Then, he bursts out laughing. “Lan Zhan!” he says between laughs. “How—how can you say such a thing! For one second you made my little rabbit heart beat all wildly there!”
“Wei Ying is no longer a rabbit,” is all he manages to say in response.
Wei Ying only laughs harder. “I tend to forget, hahaha. You’re so funny, hahaha.”
Wei Ying does not stop laughing for a long time. At times, Lan Wangji is afraid that he will perish from it. It is a wonderful sound, though, and Lan Wangji would cherish it fully if he weren’t so… so…
Lan Wangji closes his eyes in resignation.
Wei Ying’s laughter slowly fades and he regains his breath, his chest visibly rising and falling with it. “Handsome?” he teases, “You think Mo Xuanyu is handsome, Lan Zhan?”
“Hmph.” Lan Wangji does not care about Mo Xuanyu. He doubts that Mo Xuanyu could radiate like the sun.
“Handsome, huh...” Wei Ying trails off. His expression becomes pensive, almost wistful. “Makes me wonder…” he says, hesitant. “Maybe I…”
Ah, Lan Wangji thinks. At last, they get to the heart of the matter, whatever that is.
He thinks about Wei Ying’s drawing. By now, the anti-wrinkle spell around the drawing has come undone, and Lan Wangji has put it away in the box with Wei Ying’s other letters. He no longer needs it. This ordeal is over.
In the end, Wei Ying even made it to the Cloud Recesses by spring, even if Lan Wangji did not know it at first.
Is it over now, though? How does Lan Wangji know that Wei Ying will not try something like this again? Will not disappear somewhere and maybe not come back next time?
He knows it is not over.
Lan Wangji waits, hopes that if he remains still, Wei Ying will reveal whatever is troubling him, whatever is causing this restlessness that will prompt him to keep Lan Wangji at a distance, to leave Gusu again when summer comes.
For some reason, Wei Ying does not settle. For the past three years, Lan Wangji had thought that this is what Wei Ying wants. But…
Wei Ying says, “You know, when I saw the bunnies in that clearing, I…” He laughs, then shakes his head at himself. “I went to see the bunnies every day, and even at night, for a few of days, I lay awake. Don’t ask me why, I know it’s strange! And then I remembered a talisman I had worked on in my youth. And I thought… I thought it would be fun… yes.” He says the words as if testing them on his tongue.
Lan Wangji tries to catch a glimpse of his expression, but it is hard when they’re not sitting across from each other. He can only see Wei Ying’s side profile, half-hidden behind the fall of his bangs.
“And I liked being a rabbit! It was a nice, simple life.” These are cheerful words, but they don’t sound sincere to Lan Wangji. “Perhaps I was born in the wrong body? Ha. Not that this is my body.”
He then says a small prayer and murmurs his thanks to Mo Xuanyu.
“Bodies are so overrated, don’t you think?” he rambles on. Lan Wangji lets him, but he tries to listen. To what remains unsaid. With Wei Ying, who can talk and laugh and whine about anything and everything, yet rarely expresses his true thoughts, this has become one of Lan Wangji’s habits.
“Anyway, I liked it. But when you… when you said…”
“…When I said what?” Lan Wangji asks.
“Ah, never mind. Oops, what was I going to say? Slipped my mind. I’m so forgetful!” He returns to his joking self, and Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying has exhausted his ability to talk about serious matters for today.
Wei Ying goes to take another swig of wine, but it seems that the jug of Emperor’s Smile has also exhausted its capacities. Wei Ying shakes the jug with an offended face. Empty. “What is this treachery! No fun.”
Lan Wangji mentally takes inventory. He needs to restock Emperor’s Smile. He knows that half of the jugs stored under his floorboard are filled with water, not wine.
Wei Ying leans back until his head hits the wooden planks. He huffs, then rolls to his left, facing Lan Wangji. A moment later, he rolls over again, now with his back to Lan Wangji. He seems restless, perhaps a mixture of the influence of alcohol and residual rabbit instincts. Or just him being Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji summons the restraint of the entire Lan ancestry not to reach out and pet Wei Ying.
Wei Ying rolls over again.
“Be still,” Lan Wangji says when Wei Ying does not stop moving around. “So fidgety.”
Wei Ying snorts, and Lan Wangji can sense his breath against his hand resting on the floor, warm and tickly. He wants to lift his hand to smell it, to find out if it carries the scent of Emperor’s Smile. “Hanguang-jun, are you still treating me like a rabbit?” Wei Ying says.
Lan Wangji feels the tip of his ears burning. “I have gotten used to it as well.” It will be difficult to stop talking to Wei Ying like this.
Wei Ying cackles. “Oh, Lan Zhan.”
He then looks up at Lan Wangji, his eyes a molten dark under the light of the moon. The heaviness of his gaze is almost unbearable, and Lan Wangji itches to do something. He pours his entire resolve into appearing unaffected, not to move, not to grab Wei Ying by his wrist and—
Wei Ying blurts out, “How did you know it was me?”
“What?”
“How did you recognize me? No one else did. I think I came off as a pretty authentic bunny. So how?”
Wei Ying does not know how loaded this question is.
“Tell me, Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji swallows hard. He would like to tell him, but no words could possibly be adequate.
He wishes he could make Wei Ying understand what he is to him. That Wei Ying is so much more than a body to be distinguished from others, that he has spent far too much time memorizing the colors of Wei Ying’s soul. That Wei Ying’s is a part of his own, a piece of his soul that exists outside of him. He would recognize it anywhere and everywhere.
He is his zhiji.
So he just says, “Wei Ying is Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying is silent in a way that is unusual for him. But when Lan Wangji looks over, he smiles. It’s different from his larger-than-life smile, more private, in a way that Lan Wangji wants to cradle between his hands and keep safe forever.
Lan Wangji wishes this spring night would never end.
“You’re the best, Lan Zhan. You know that, right?”
“Mh, Wei Ying is better.”