Chapter Text
Lan Wangji burned in his dragon robes, the heavy fabric exacerbating the summer heat to a nearly unbearable degree. Unasked, a servant handed him a cup of water, and he absently noted the eagerness in the gaze of the assembled advisors and officials as he raised it to his lips.
Oh…he had forgotten to check it with one of his silver needles.
Without taking a single sip, Lan Wangji set the cup down. The pottery clinked resolutely against wood, and Advisor Yao’s huff of disappointment all but confirmed his suspicions: his drink had been poisoned. Lan Wangji clenched his fist and grit his teeth. They were getting more blatant with their attempts, and despite sitting on the throne, he had no meaningful power to rebuke them.
It went unspoken, but everyone was aware of the indisputable truth: the days of the Lan dynasty were drawing to an end. After all, Lan Wangji was the last bloodline Lan in the imperial palace with no allies to speak of. He was a silent, solitary emperor whose court clambered for control.
It had been nearly five years since his brother abdicated to marry General Nie of the neighboring kingdom and three years since Lan Wangji had encouraged his uncle to resign from his position as chancellor to run the cultivation academy he had always dreamed of. Lan Wangji’s personal discomfort and increased responsibilities had always seemed like a small price to pay for his family’s happiness, and even now, he didn’t regret the freedom he gave them at the expense of himself. He never would.
But, it was impossible to ignore that Lan Wangji was all that stood in the way of a new emperor, a new dynasty. His position on the dragon throne of Cloud Recesses had never been more precarious, and Lan Wangji only remained for the benefit of the people, or at least that is what he tried to tell himself. However, he was all too aware he was ineffective in creating any positive changes for them—the growing rebellions under the Yiling Patriarch were a sure sign of that.
The mianguan sat heavy on his head. Its cumbersome nature was just another reminder of what a sitting target he had become. Every advisor and official was an archer with their arrows nocked and the bowstring pulled back in preparation to shoot. It was only a matter of time until Lan Wangji failed to dodge and fell victim to an assassination attempt.
Ultimately, it was a pointless exercise, but he needed to demonstrate that he was perfectly cognizant of what happened. Lan Wangji reached into his qiankun sleeve, retrieved a silver needle, and submerged it into the water he had nearly ingested. Unsurprisingly, silver darkened to black as he held up the needle for everyone to see. Lan Wangji gave the assembled advisors and officials a withering glare before rising. This was as good a reason as any to end court early. It wasn’t like work was going to get done anyways.
The advisors tittered around him, taking glee in the show of obvious weakness as he passed by them and headed back to his quarters. With a scowl, Advisor Yao handed one of the newer advisors a small pouch of coins. One of the guards behind him also tossed the advisor some coins as they walked by.
Lan Wangi purposefully ignored the evidence of them betting on his life and death. He did not want to bother hearing whatever elaborate excuse they came up with for the exchange of coins if he bothered to confront them. And if he wanted to arrest one of them, he would only put himself in a more tenuous position. The assassinations were hardly manageable as they were. To even begin to fix the problem with his court, he needed to root out the source of corruption, but he had no means to do so.
It was fine.
It wasn’t.
But it had to be.
All that Lan Wangji had ever wanted was to stand with justice and live with no regrets, but he had done little of either in recent memory. And, he despised that, but what choice did he have when the guards didn’t even bother to protect him anymore? No guard really had since…
Lan Wangji quickly brushed aside the memory of a bright laughter and a red ribbon flitting in the wind.
If he lingered too long, Lan Wangji would get lost in the familiar anger towards his father for exiling his steadfast companion in the wake of the Wen rebellion on false accusations of treason. He would become too aware of the ache of the whip scars on his back from when he had tried to make his father see reason.
Anger and pain wouldn’t change reality. Wei Ying was gone, and Lan Wangji was tired.
The tiredness was a bone-deep thing that never seemed like it would not go away until he simply ceased to exist. His exhaustion threatened to swallow him up and consume everything he was. Nowadays, anything Lan Wangji said was ignored, his words worth less than the air he breathed, so he didn’t bother speaking. He had been reduced to a body merely play-acting as emperor, going through the motions and waiting for the day an assassination attempt succeeded. But, what could he do?
Lan Wangji was by no means a good emperor, but anyone else who regularly frequented the palace would certainly be worse.
As much as he longed to return to a simple life free from the burdens of the dragon throne, he could not willingly give up the throne to one of the corrupt, greedy men that flocked around him like vultures circling a dying man.
That fact was more bitter than any poison would ever taste.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
On the day of the attack, Lan Wangji’s dragon robes were white instead of the traditional soft blue that most emperors of the Lan dynasty favored. He had been in a state of perpetual mourning for months, and Lan Wangji had taken to wearing white because it was the little he could do in recompense for the lives of his citizens that were lost as a result of his ineffective governance.
However, when the guards informed him that Cloud Recesses had been breached by rebels, Lan Wangji figured that the white dragon robes would save whoever had come to take the throne some trouble. Inadvertently, he had already been completing his own funerary rights and mourning himself.
Bichen rested at his side, unsheathed as it had been for years now. Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy circulated from his golden core throughout his meridians in time with his breath, but his spiritual energy’s development had long since stagnated with how little attention he had been able to pay to his cultivation.
He was calm.
Even if he was to fight back, what good would that do him?
The rebellion reaching Cloud Recesses was far from unexpected. In actuality, Lan Wangji welcomed it.
The rumblings of a discontent nation rallying behind the Yiling Patriarch had only grown fiercer in recent weeks after his advisors had raised the number of crops that farmers were obligated to hand over to the government, and Lan Wangji had listened to the rumors of the man stoking the flames of change with great interest. They signified that his mornings and afternoons of fighting with advisors would soon be over, that he would no longer need to maintain constant vigilance against assassination attempts.
The Yiling Patriarch was proclaimed to be ruthless and a master of demonic cultivation, but he was also said to be charismatic and fair. A disposition like that would most certainly allow him to flourish on the dragon throne in a way that Lan Wangji had never been able to. If Lan Wangji had learned anything from his own tumultuous time on the throne, the ability to speak eloquently would likely aid the man more than his link to demonic cultivation would ever hinder him.
Lan Wangji’s rule was never meant to last, and so, he waited with quiet acceptance for the Yiling Patriarch, his soon-to-be usurper, to arrive.
Transitions of power from one dynasty to the next were never simple by any means, but Lan Wangji imagined what it would be like if he was exiled rather than killed. He would be able to see his brother and uncle for the first time in years, and perhaps, he could travel the countryside to help people directly as he had in his youth. Maybe he could adopt and raise some children. However, if such dreams were too lofty, he imagined he would even be content living the life of a simple farmer if it meant that he regained the freedom that the dragon throne and his advisors had slowly stripped him of.
Well, if the Yiling Patriarch was not amenable to peacefully letting him go, perhaps Lan Wangji would be able to complete such dreams in the next life. But, he sincerely hoped the Yiling Patriarch would be reasonable.
When the doors finally flung open, Lan Wangji sat alone in the throne room. It was time. The guards had long since fled, abandoning him to the Yiling Patriarch’s mercy. The usurper and his forces would be the only ones to bear witness his fall. All of the guards, advisors, and officials would not be privy to what they had always sought with their unceasing assassination attempts. And if that is all that he could have in the end, Lan Wangji would take grim satisfaction in that fact.
Resentful energy swirled in the hall, but its nearly corporeal form gave way to a flood of cultivators, peasants, and fierce corpses streaming into the room. Many wore red flames embroidered into their clothes, the insignia of the Wen cultivation sect, but there were many who did not indicate such affiliation with their attire. Lan Wangji remained unmoving on the elevated dragon throne as he scanned the room for the man who held the title of Yiling Patriarch, but he did not need to look too hard.
The assembled masses parted, and his gaze caught a familiar pair of silver eyes. They held an unfamiliar steely glint instead of playful mirth, but Lan Wangji would never fail to recognize their owner. Wei Ying. His childhood friend, his most dedicated bodyguard who had been sent away in disgrace, the only person he had ever loved, had returned as the Yiling Patriarch—the beloved of the people, a triumphant conqueror, and the emperor who would sit on the throne after him.
The lingering unease about what kind of man the Yiling Patriarch was faded. Even if the fact that Wei Ying was entangled in demonic cultivation was highly concerning, Wei Ying had never been anything but just. There was no one that Lan Wangji felt could be more capable of claiming the dragon throne and ruling the country in all the ways he had failed.
No matter how time had changed him in what felt like the lifetime they had been apart, Wei Ying was Wei Ying.
Unbidden, his lips parted around the name “Wei Ying.”
However, no sound came out after years of silence.
Wei Ying, attuned to him even now, acknowledged the call with a wide smile. His eyes briefly softened, but they were both aware of the many eyes on them, and Wei Ying slid more firmly into the role of the Yiling Patriarch again. His lips quirked into a confident smirk.
“Emperor Lan,” Wei Ying said, and Lan Wangji had never hated the title more for the separation it established between them. “It's been a long time.”
Lan Wangji hummed in discontent, attempting to clear his throat. “Wei Ying,” he whispered as he tried to speak again, desperate to have Wei Ying understand that he had no desire for the dragon throne and the division it had created between them.
He would not resist whatever Wei Ying wanted, whether that was his life or his banishment. He could never resist Wei Ying.
Wei Ying climbed the steps to the elevated dragon throne. His red ribbon bounced with each step, and the black robes he wore suited him. Lan Wangji stood, leaving Bichen sheathed by the dragon throne.
The audience watched, tension oozing from them like its own kind of resentful energy.
Now that they were on the same level, he could see that Wei Ying had grown taller since they had last seen each other. Wei Ying no longer had to look up to meet Lan Wangji eye to eye. Furthermore, Lan Wangji could not ignore how Wei Ying’s skin was sun-kissed from obviously spending a significant amount of time outdoors, and the muscles of his arms were better defined. Suibian and a black flute hung at his side, but neither of his hands rested on either object in a show of trust.
While Lan Wangji had been carefully looking at how he had changed, Wei Wing was apparently doing the same, as he indicated with an awkward, “You look…well.”
They both knew that Wei Ying’s words were a lie.
Lan Wangji’s choice of white robes washed out his already pale complexion, and he had not eaten a proper meal in a long time due to the assassination attempts. He had utilized inedia whenever possible, but he had limits that had long since been reached.
“And what will Lan Zhan have me do?” Wei Ying prodded in a low voice that would not carry far beyond where they stood, testing the loaded space between them. “Does he desire to cling to the throne and resist?”
The massive wall painting of a coiled blue dragon weaving through a myriad of mountains and clouds ominously loomed over them. It had been painted by one of Lan Wangji’s ancestors at the beginning of the Lan dynasty, and it seemed to be judging what Lan Wangji actually desired to do.
Lan Wangji would not turn back though. Since the moment Wei Ying had entered as the Yiling Patriarch, there was only one way forward. He would let his actions answer Wei Ying’s question.
Lan Wangji reached up, and Wei Ying’s sword hand instinctually tensed before his eyes widened at the sight of Lan Wangji removing the mianguan. The twelve threads of jade knocked against each other, filling the shocked silence. It was as if no one dared to breathe.
The bottom of Lan Wangji’s white robes dragged on the ground as he stepped to Wei Ying, and its wide sleeves highlighted every motion he made. As if these robes would have ever been practical to resist Wei Ying in, Lan Wangji huffed to himself. Wei Ying was a talented fighter, a fact apparent even now, and at his best, their skills had been evenly matched. Today, Lan Wangji was not at his best, and why would he cling to the throne when Wei Ying would make a far superior emperor? He had already won the hearts of the people.
Wei Ying dipped his chin, and Lan Wangji set the mianguan atop his head for the first time before the world. He resisted the urge to brush a loose strand of hair out of Wei Ying’s face, but that would be too far. As much as he loved Wei Ying, his feelings were not reciprocated, and he was content to merely bask in Wei Ying’s presence.
Instead, Lan Wangji descended the steps with Bichen sheathed at his side and sank to his knees under Wei Ying’s eyes that seemed to grow more intense with every second.
“My emperor, the Yiling Patriarch, may you live longer than ten thousand years and may your kingdom prosper,” Lan Wangji proclaimed. His voice was still quieter than intended, but he was sure everyone heard.
He lowered his head to the floor, the picture of subservience. Lan Wangji hoped such a display would confirm the intention for a peaceful passing from one dynasty to another and be met with good will.
When he raised his head, Wei Ying seemed to search his face for something, and Lan Wangji did not know if he found whatever he was looking for. However, they could not stare at each other for long.
“We’ve won,” Wei Ying declared.
To the sound of cheers, he took a seat on the dragon throne in a way that was entirely indecorous but too entirely Wei Ying. His legs were kicked over the arm of one side of the throne, and at some point, Wei Ying had drawn his flute to twirl. It also signaled that the new emperor was hardly going to be orthodox.
This fact was driven home further when a petite woman with a severe expression wearing the Wen emblem climbed the steps to stand at his side. Wei Ying gave her a bright smile, and Lan Wangji’s stomach dropped.
Of course…it had been years since they had last seen each other, and it was natural for a man free of political considerations for the majority of his life to already have a lover or wife. And, someone like Wei Ying had surely had many suitors once he was free from Lan Wangji’s side.
The woman leaned in close to allow Wei Ying to mutter something in her ear, and Lan Wangji couldn’t bear it any longer. Lan Wangji already knew that Wei Ying did not return his feelings, but jealousy curled in the pit of his stomach. He dropped his gaze at the floor to avoid the intensity of what he was feeling lest it show on his face.
Besides, he couldn’t forget that there were greater concerns than Wei Ying’s wife—for that was surely what she was. Lan Wangji’s immediate future was still entirely dependent on Wei Ying, and his patience grew thin as he waited for the verdict of his fate. The atmosphere of the room was lighter than it had been in a long time, and he could hear the mass of people behind him talking amongst themselves and doors opening and closing. Wei Ying seemed content to leave them to that for a few minutes.
Lan Wangji tried to imagine again what his life would be like if he was permitted to leave, and he found that he was excited at the prospect of something new, something different, something other than atrophying on the dragon throne.
Finally, Wei Ying brought everything frmly back under control with a loud clap of his hands. He sincerely thanked everyone for their efforts and gave orders about where to take anyone wounded for immediate treatment.
At the very end of his speech, Wei Ying addressed his future at last, “As is it is my right as the new emperor to decide what happens to my predecessor, I have decided that Lan-dianxia, henceforth Lan-er-gongzi, will remain in the palace indefinitely until such a time that I choose. No harm may come to him, but he is not allowed to leave without my explicit permission.”
That…that was alarming.
Stunned, Lan Wangji kowtowed once in thanks as was expected of him, even though all he wanted to do was demand why he wasn’t allowed to walk free.
By those terms, Wei Ying could release him this week or twenty years from now. Furthermore, the ambiguity around his role meant that he had no idea whether he was to be treated more like a prisoner or a guest.
All of his previous excitement drained, and he shakily followed the servant that was assigned to lead him away.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
By nightfall, Lan Wangji found himself confined to the quarters around the Gentian Courtyard, which fortunately included his personal rooms referred to as the Jingshi and his late mother’s old rooms that had been adjacent to his own. A guard was stationed at the start of the corridor that led to the rest of the palace, and that alone was an indicator of how serious Wei Ying was about keeping him here—for whatever reason that was. Undoubtedly, there were more guards patrolling outside the walls of the courtyard to prevent him from escaping that way.
The guard, Wen Ning, had informed that the rooms had been checked and any possible threats removed, but Lan Wangji remained as vigilant as he could given the circumstances.
He felt disoriented, like he was living in a dream. It didn’t help that the servants and guards had done more than just remove dangers. Likely in an effort to not offend the new emperor, all of his dragon robes had been removed, leaving him a sparse few sets of plain inner robes. He had even been forced to strip in front of a pair of servants and hand over the white ones he had worn during his last hours as emperor. Additionally, his plans to help the common people that he had never been able to implement and his notes on the state of the country were missing.
The last straw had been when Wen Ning had politely asked for Bichen. Lan Wangji refused, and thankfully, this nervous new guard let the issue drop. At least, it was getting easier to speak again. However, Lan Wangji kept Bichen at his side in fear that he would turn and find one of his last important belongings gone.
Lan Wangji sat under the stars by the koi pond and breathed. He wished that he had been able to keep his guqin to have something to fight against the oppressive silence. However, one of his advisors had poisoned its strings, and he had been forced to get rid of it long ago. For the first time, Lan Wangji had nothing to do, and he had no idea what to fill his time with. Ultimately, when the night got too cold to stay outside any longer in his inner robes, Lan Wangji retired for the evening. He potentially had a long time to figure out what to do, and he didn’t need to have an answer tonight.
Slowly, Lan Wangji got used to his new routine. His days were filled with silence and even greater solitude than the days that he had been emperor. Servants brought meals at the typical Lan eating hours as they always had, and he still made sure to test anything before he ingested it. He slept more than he cared to admit, but he also trained with his sword and meditated in an effort to make up for all the time his golden core had been left to stagnate.
Days passed, and he remained isolated from whatever was happening beyond his few rooms. He wondered if his uncle and brother had heard the news. Was he allowed to write to them and let them know that he was fine? He didn’t dare ask Wen Ning who seemed to never leave his position at the end of the corridor. They had barely progressed beyond cordial greetings, and he didn’t want to put the only friendly person he interacted with in a difficult position.
More concerning though, he never saw the slightest glimpse of Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji couldn’t help but wonder why. If Wei Ying didn’t even want to see him, why was he keeping him here? It was far easier to banish or kill a threat than keep them here. No sane emperor would keep him here without some reason.
Was he so insignificant that Wei Ying had forgotten about him?
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Nearly a fortnight after kneeling before Wei Ying and giving him the dragon throne, Lan Wangji’s forced seclusion was broken on an innocuous sunny afternoon.
Lan Wangji was wearing one of his lighter blue inner robes and sitting by koi fish, feeding them and watching them flit about, when he heard a strangled sound. He stood up in concern, and he saw Wei Ying covering his face with one hand while carrying a young child with his other. The child looked confused while Wen Ning was purposefully not looking in their direction.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asked. Even if he was frustrated that it had taken so long for Wei Ying to visit him, he was more relieved than anything, but he worried something was wrong.
“Hi Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying removed his hand from his face and weakly laughed. “Sorry it took so long for me to come see you…who would have thought establishing a new dynasty takes a lot of time?”
Lan Wangji couldn’t help the smile that arose at Wei Ying’s ridiculousness. Despite how drastically their circumstances had changed since they last met, Wei Ying was the same.
“Don’t smile, Lan Zhan! You know I can’t take it!” Wei Ying whined as he set the child down who stared up at him with wide eyes.
“Mnn,” Lan Wangji hummed solemnly. It was too easy to fall back into old habits, but he was curious about the child…
The child who had left Wei Ying’s side and had glommed onto his leg. “Pretty-gege,” the child mumbled into his leg, and Lan Wangji lifted him into his arms. His inner robes slipped slightly off his shoulder, and although it was highly improper, Lan Wangji was forced to leave it that way while he was holding the child.
Wei Ying made another strangled sound, but Lan Wangji ignored him, realizing that he was probably being ridiculous like earlier for no reason.
“Who are you?” he gently asked.
The child buried his face into Lan Wangji neck and mumbled a response. The action was unbearably cute, and Lan Wangji hugged the child closer. He really did love children, despite rarely getting to interact with them.
Wei Ying laughed. “This shy, little radish is Wei Yuan, but everyone calls him A-Yuan.”
He was holding Wei Ying’s son and heir, and Lan Wangji couldn’t help but feel honored with the trust placed in him by bringing A-Yuan here, even though there was the familiar twist of agonizing jealousy. Wei Ying really had married in their time apart, and he had truly missed his chance.
“Does A-Yuan want to see my koi fish?” Lan Wangji asked. “I was feeding them when you came in.”
A-Yuan nodded eagerly, and Lan Wangji set him down. He quickly righted his robes before grasping the boy’s hand, walking with him over to the pond, and giving him a handful of dry algae. A-Yuan amused himself with the fish, and Lan Wangji kept an eye on him while turning back to Wei Ying, who had the softest expression he had ever seen on his face.
Wei Ying clearly cared a lot for his son.
Noticing Lan Wangji’s eyes on him, Wei Ying snapped out of his daze. “I wanted you two to meet because I’m hoping you will spend more time together.”
“I’m glad to meet him,” Lan Wangji said. It would greatly please him to spend time with Wei Ying’s son, and he seemed like such a sweet child. “How old is he?”
“A-Yuan turned five only a few months ago,” Wei Ying answered.
Lan Wangji hummed in acknowledgement. He gently stopped A-Yuan from reaching into the pond in an attempt to pet the fish, and A-Yuan smiled up at him as he handed him another handful of dried algae.
Lan Wangji desperately wanted to ask about the state of the court and what would become of him, but it didn’t seem right with A-Yuan happily humming to himself between them as he slowly got more comfortable being in Lan Wangji’s presence.
Wei Ying opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Lan Wangji gave him time to gather his thoughts because whatever he wanted to say had to be important if it was making him this nervous.
“Lan Zhan, we both know the imperial court can be incredibly dangerous, but I’m going to make it better.” Lan Wangji nodded in understanding. If anyone could do it, Wei Ying would. “I want to make it better, so that the people I care about can stay here, and it might take some time until I have everything under control…but A-Yuan already likes you, which is good, and I promise that I’m going to do this properly, do you think that you would—”
“Wei Wuxian!” A voice loudly interrupted from down the hall. “Come here.”
“Wen Qing!” Wei Ying shrieked. He shot a devastating expression at Lan Wangji, but honestly, Lan Wangji was still just trying to process what Wei Ying was trying to say.
Was he asking him to take care of A-Yuan until the court was safe? It made sense because Lan Wangji had managed to survive this long under constant threat from his advisors and officials, so he had demonstrated he was more than capable. Furthermore, it would answer the question as to why Wei Ying was keeping him here. Wei Ying wanted someone he knew that he could trust with the life of his son, and Lan Wangji would not let him down.
“But–” Wei Ying called back, but it was too late. Wei Ying’s wife stormed in, wearing an ornate set of robes intricately embroidered with the Wen flames, and Lan Wangji was shamefully aware of how underdressed he was.
Quickly, he stepped away from Wei Ying and A-Yuan, not wanting to add to the conflict if she was mad about Wei Ying coming to see him. The motion only served to draw her gaze, and she glared at him as if he was going to object to her demands.
“Now,” Wen Qing added firmly. “We are late to the meeting with Advisor Jin.” Then, she caught sight of A-Yuan attempting to reach into the koi pond again. “You brought A-Yuan into this?” She huffed, gesturing towards Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji did not like the way Wen Qing was looking at him, but he stood up straight and bowed to Wei Ying. He had to act now to ensure that he would be able to fulfill Wei Ying’s earnest request before Wen Qing convinced Wei Ying to rescind it. “I will care for A-Yuan while you are busy.”
Wen Qing and Wei Ying both looked up at him for a moment, and Lan Wangji wondered if he had misinterpreted the situation. But, he couldn’t have? Wei Ying had seemed adamant that he wanted A-Yuan to spend time with him and that he wanted A-Yuan to be safe.
However, Wei Ying quickly regained his composure, smiled reassuringly, and squeezed Lan Wangji’s hand under Wen Qing’s frown. “Thank you so much.”
“Be good for Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying told A-Yuan with a gentle pat on his head. Turning back to Lan Wangji once more, he added, “If you need any help with this little rascal, Wen Ning can also assist.”
Lan Wangji nodded in assent, and Wen Qing rushed Wei Ying along as he promised to be back as soon as he could to retrieve A-Yuan.
Becoming the primary caregiver for his usurper's heir was never a situation that he anticipated being in, but he had always dreamed of raising a child with Wei Ying. Despite the strange circumstances, this seemed like the closest he could get to that dream now that Wei Ying was married.
Lan Wangji may have failed at being the emperor, but he resolved that he would be the best babysitter he could be for A-Yuan and Wei Ying.