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Lan Wangji drank his tea quietly in the inn, sitting at the low table and staring at the inn door, the sounds of the other patrons murmured around them, all of them focused on their own lives while Lan Wangji kept vigil.
Waiting.
A-Yuan, his A-Yuan, was on his first night hunt unsupervised and hadn’t returned yet and Lan Wangji was enough of an adult to acknowledge that he was nervous. He wondered if his uncle had ever felt the same when he and his brother had gone on hunts and if that had been what turned his uncle's hair grey.
Lan Wangji felt it might do the same to him.
While contemplating how close he could get without his son feeling his presence, he felt someone come up from behind him before they entered his vision and sat down in front of him gracefully- yet utterly blocking his view of the door. The stranger was dressed in black and with a single red ribbon in his hair, he smiled at him, as if greeting an old friend.
Lan Wangji looked at him with barely concealed surprise. He had no idea who this forward man was, or what he wanted.
“You’re a hard man to find,” the man said, reaching forward to pour his own tea from Lan Wangji’s pot, relaxed as if he approached strangers all of the time. He looked over Lan Wangji and was clearly happy at what he saw.
“Not hiding” Lan Wangji replied, and then almost blushed, he had no idea why.
The man rested his hands on his knees, cocking his head slightly, “no, but someone has still been trying to hide you.” The man's words made no sense but rule 34 reverberated around his head, you should always show kindness and understanding to those less able.
Before he could reply and man looked behind him towards the door. “And who is it that this esteemed cultivator is waiting for so diligently at the inn? You haven’t taken your eyes off the door.” he paused, looking back at Lan Wangji and lowering his voice conspiratorially, “...could it be you are waiting for a lover? He asked, clearly teasing.
“Shameless”, Lan Zhan said automatically. Now definitely blushing, but the man didn’t seem phased.
“Aiya, not a lover then…” the man looked around, considering the room and its other patrons. Lan Wangji’s gaze followed his, and he noticed that all the other patrons had stopped talking and were now staring at the two of them silently. It was eerily quiet as everyone stared so intently that their drinks and food went untouched. Even the noise from the street had stopped.
None of this seemed to phase the man in black.
“Where are we anyway?” he asked Lan Wangji, pulling a dizi from his belt as he spun it slowly between his fingers, splitting his attention between Lan Wangji and the other people around.
Lan Wangji heard someone behind in the far corner stand up.
Lan Wangji opened his mouth to reply but realised he wasn’t sure. It was… near Cloud Recess, towards… he thought it might be in the nearby mountains, but now that he thought about it he wasn’t sure.
“My son… he is night hunting for the first time unsupervised,” the words left his lips before he could think. His honesty shocked him.
The man was positively beaming now.
“That was three days from Cloud recess,” he looked behind him to the inn door, talking to himself, “Why here though? Why this time?” the man asked himself, happy to leave himself unguarded against Lan Wangji.
Any further conversation was broken as a cup was slammed down by the waitress, Lan Wangji looked up in alarm as she glared at the man, “Why are you herrreeeee?” she hissed. The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes this time.
“You took something that doesn’t belong to you,” he replied in a sing-song voice. Lan Zhan suddenly noticed he was spinning a black dizi in his hands again. Whatever she was about to say was cut off by a shout. A young shout.
A-Yuan. Lan Wangji would recognise it anywhere.
Without thinking he leapt up and ran to the door, heart hammering in his throat. His son, he needed to get to his son. He couldn’t lose him, not when so much had already been taken from him.
“Lan Zhan!” The man shouted, scrambling up to follow him, “Don’t!”
Lan Wangji didn't look back and stepped through the door into the street.
In his haste to run, he’s completely forgotten to tell the man his name.
–
Lan Wangji blinked and found himself sitting in a darkened cave, with a leg in excruciating pain and a young man with his head in his lap sweating and shivering with fever.
Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji was fifteen, terrified and sitting in a cave with no hope of rescue. His father was recently dead, his brother probably dead and his home was gone. Hunger ate at him and his leg throbbed. A creature that was probably older than his clan wanted to kill him, while his only friend in the world was dying and there was nothing he could do.
Lan Wangji felt helpless as Wei Ying's chest continued to rise and fall, and desperately wished he had paid more attention to the medical lectures in Cloud Recess.
The darkness around their little fire seemed to darken, and in his sleep-deprived eyes seemed to reach out towards him, as if wanting to claw him towards despair. But Lan Wangji couldn’t give up, not while Wei Ying still needed saving. Yet all he knew was music, he barely knew how to fight. The sword and cultivation skills that had been taught to him in Cloud Recess had seemed so useless when it came to an actual fight. And now, he didn’t even have his sword- the Wen had taken even that from him.
The tendrils of darkness seemed to edge closer to the fire, but just as they were about to touch his leg, he heard a quiet sound over the crackling of the fire. For a moment he wondered if he was hallucinating, if the lack of food and water was finally affecting him. He closed his eyes to focus on the sound, and as he listened it became a tune.
The sound bounced off the walls, its source unseen, yet the tune felt familiar and as he listened he found it brought him comfort- its notes interwoven with the tunes his mother would hum to him on the rare nights he was allowed to see her.
Using what little of his spiritual energy he had left he tentatively started humming a return, his tune and the new one complimenting each other. He continued until his voice was hoarse and what little spirit energy was almost gone. His eyes started to close, but the tune didn't stop, the echoes of the cave keeping his little tune going.
For the first time in days, he felt safe. Maybe now he could sleep, if only for a few hours.
Moving carefully so as not to wake Wei Ying, he draped his now grey robe over Wei Wing, and carefully fed the fire with what little kindling they had been able to find. He pulled Wei Ying the tiniest part closer, justifying it to himself as the flames died down again. The melody continued to wrap itself around them, and if Lan Wangji had been thinking clearer and less exhausted, he’d have known this wasn’t normal. As he fell asleep with his only friend in the world alongside him, he felt a calmness come over him that was almost unnatural.
In the space between waking and sleep, he heard footsteps coming towards him. He thought he saw the outline of a man coming towards him, but he was asleep before he could think any more.
As he drifted, he felt a robe fall over him.“Rest,” he heard, “This is a bad place, I’ll find you in the next one.”
For the first time in a long time, Lan Wangji went to sleep and didn’t feel scared.
—
Lan Wangji's eyes snapped open as the whip landed across his back. He caught his pained grunt in his throat and didn’t fall forward, but his nails dug into his hand hard enough to reopen the cuts they had already caused. The elders had been kind enough to ask if he had wanted to bite down on something during the whipping. Lan Wangji had little honour left, but if he was to die at the hands of his clan, he would not do it gagged like some animal.
He distantly heard them call out the number and name of whoever he had hurt. Like the lines across the mountainside wall of his home that were scrawled with rules, each line across his back would have a name, a reason.
In his head, Lan Wangji named each of them after Wei Ying.
Wei Ying who was gone, whom Lan Wangji could not save.
Ten steps in front of him, the healer looked down impassively, like a farmer would inspect a wounded animal. He nodded, confirming that they hadn’t managed to kill Lan Wangji yet, and Lan Wangji braced himself.
It didn’t make the pain from the next lash any less blinding.
Another name was said, and Lan Wangji felt a warm trickle of blood go down his exposed back. The snow around him was flecked red, his trousers ruined. He didn’t know how many lashes he'd endured, and he was beginning to realise that he didn’t know how many more he could withstand.
He was pitifully grateful that the only person standing in front of him was the healer. His brother and uncle had allowed him this small dignity. No one else would see how much pain he was in.
When his sentence had first been announced, the elders had declared that the only place to hold him until his punishment was the Jin-Shi. That nowhere else had spiritual barriers to hold him in. His brother had told the elders, in his polite, politically correct, and firm manner, to go fuck themselves. His uncle's face had hardened, the same way it had when he’d seen the first Wen soldiers first step into Cloud Recess all those years ago. But Lan Wangji had no energy left to fight, and his family's position was already precarious enough with a young clan leader and a disgraced younger brother. So he had agreed and passively let himself be led to the very house that had driven his mother to suicide.
The day of the whipping, he’d woken and found warm water and milk of the poppy on the porch, and footsteps in the snow heading back down the mountain. Lan Wangji’s family had always shown their love through actions, not words.
He breathed again, and his back burned, nerves exposed to the cold. Lan Wangji's back would be a mess at the end of this. He might never be able to use a sword again—but then what good had his sword been even when he could wield it? It hadn't been able to protect Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji clenched his teeth, a harsh breath escaping him, clouding the air in front of him. He felt the first slow flakes drift onto his bare torso and looked up through jagged bangs to the healer again, awaiting the executioner's nod.
They’d cut his hair short, into jagged uneven ends, now drenched in pain-induced sweat even in the cold. The elders had claimed that it was to make sure it didn’t get in the way of the whip. But Lan Wangji had seen enough of politics to know that it was because they wanted him to wear his dishonour clearly—to make sure that no one could mistake him for his brother, their young and faultless clan leader.
He awaited the healer's nod but heard a commotion going on behind him.
The healer continued to look beyond Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji would have turned around if he could, but his back wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t even think he could stand now if he wanted. The pain was nearly unbearable.
The commotion grew louder. The healer bared his teeth like an animal, clearly furious.
"...fucking kill you…” someone was shouting for him from behind. There was further commotion, and Lan Wangji thought he heard the sound of a sword being pulled free. "Get away from him," the same voice shouted, ready to fight.
The healer crouched down and sneered at Lan Wangji, relishing the pain he saw. In the back of his pain-drunk mind, Lan Wangji registered that something was off. The healer had never relished in the pain of others.
The healer's eyes were entirely black.
“Give up,” it hissed.
The world grew darker, and the snow that fell about him now looked grey and smelled of ash.
“The pain, you can make it stop… give up.”
Lan Wangji blinked, the commotion behind him even louder now, and the sounds of fighting drawing closer. He thought he could even hear flute music.
Darkness crept closer, and Lan Wangji could feel the little warmth he had leaving him.
It would be so easy to give up.
It would save his family so much trouble.
…He could join Wei Ying.
“Yes,” the healer stepped closer, his teeth sharper now.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man in black dart forward, swinging a sword with pure viciousness, forcing the healer to jump back.
The cold grip on him lessened.
The man stood between Lan Wangji and the healer, his back to Lan Wangji. He was shorter than Lan Wangji, his hair in a loose high ponytail tied with a red ribbon.
“Don’t close your eyes,” the man in black commanded Lan Wangji, still facing the healer, sword in front of them both.
The healer grinned, his smile ripping as it extended from ear to ear, making his jaw wider with rows of needle-like teeth. A tongue came out, longer than a human's.
"Too slow," it hissed at the man in black.
Lan Wangji opened his mouth to say something to the mysterious stranger, but the pain was suddenly too great, the snow burned where it landed on him. He just needed to rest. He blinked heavily.
“Don’t,” the mysterious man commanded the monster, his voice a mixture of fury and fear. He still hadn’t turned around, his sword unwavering and pointed toward the monster.
Lan Wangji blinked again and fell forward. He wanted to apologise to the man who tried to save him, but the darkness claimed him before he could.
–
Lan Wangji was sixteen and terrified.
He had been so sure he was about to be killed by a Wen as Cloud recess burned until his father had swooped past him and cut the man down. The Wen soldiers hadn’t fought the way Lan Wangji had been taught; they didn’t fight with elegance and honour. Instead, they battled like brawlers, yanking hair, stabbing upwards, and throwing dirt into the faces of cultivators.
Lan Wangji’s father looked down at his son, “Where's your brother?”
Lan Wangji stared at the man he hadn’t seen or spoken to in years.
“Alive. Library,” he managed, choking down the fear, “with the servants.”
His father had nodded, “Tell him to head to the hills with the disciples, then you return to fight. We hold them until we are no more, giving them as much time as we can.” He glanced down at Lan Wangji, and blood dripped from the tip of his blade. Lan Wangji nodded, desperate to please a man he barely knew, even if it meant sacrificing his own life. His father said nothing more, not even acknowledging his second son, and headed immediately towards the gates where the fighting was fiercest.
Unbeknownst to Lan Wangji, those were the last words his father would ever say to him.
But amidst the chaos surrounding Cloud Recess, Lan Wangji’s goal was clear: ensure his brother survived, save as many lives as he could, and die a hero's death with honour, even if he was terrified. He raced to the training hall; he didn’t have his sword, but they kept some in the training hall for full clan members- not just those in training like he was.
No- like he had been. There would be no more training for him.
He turned a corner and came upon a female disciple, barely older than the young children she was protecting who were huddled together in fear behind her. Looking terrified, and with tears in her eyes, she clutched a sword too big for her as a Wen soldier stalked towards her. Lan Wangji didn’t think, but slammed himself forward into the soldier's back, surprising the Wen soldier who went down hard. Lan Zhan didn’t give him time to recover, slamming his palm with as much pointed spiritual energy as he could into the soldier's chest. The soldier spasmed, blood streamed from his nose and mouth, but he died quickly.
Lan Wangji reached out a bloody hand for the girl's sword.
“I didn’t…” the girl stuttered, staring at the cooling body below her.
"Rule 5”, protect those weaker. Even the youngest knew it. “Go, guide the younger ones via the back paths.”
“The soldiers?” She asked.
“They don’t know about them; you’ll be safe.” Lan Wangji didn’t know if the Wens were aware of those paths or not. But they couldn’t stay there. She nodded, placing blind and misplaced faith in him. It made Lan Wangji feel sick in a way taking the life of the soldier hadn’t.
Whatever she was about to say was cut short as a group of Wen soldiers rounded the corners. She screamed, but Lan Wangji didn’t hesitate. “Go,” he turned to fight his attackers; five against one. He desperately tried to fend off the soldiers as the group ran away behind him. The clash of metal against metal rang in his ears as the fight began; the soldiers' violent, brutal but effective moves starkly contrasting with the principles with which Lan Wangji had been raised.
But thanks to the narrowness between the buildings and a lifetime of familiarity with the compound, Lan Wangji managed a slight advantage. He ducked low under one sword, knowingly leaving his other side undefended, but it gave him the opening he needed to kill two of the attackers. He had never even fought with the intent to hurt people before, but now he had killed them. The remaining Wen soldiers didn’t hesitate or mourn their dead comrades, but attacked with renewed vigour, swinging with a strength and mania that seemed almost superhuman.
Lan Wangji was going to die there.
Suddenly, a high whistle sounded, and hands from the dead soldiers lying on the ground grabbed at the remaining Wens who had stepped over them. All of them looked down in horror as the corpses of their comrades jerked, grabbing at them. The demented dead face of one of the soldiers closest to Lan Wangji grinned and pulled his comrade down to the ground.
Lan Wangji looked with horror as it killed its comrade. Suddenly he felt something above him, jumping back just in time he saw a black shadow descend from the roof of one of the nearby buildings, launching itself at the Wens.
It took Lan Wangji a moment to realise that it was a man. Dressed all in black he fought the Wen soldiers with a deadly, brutal grace. This man had no intention of letting these soldiers live.
In what seemed like moments the Wen were all dead, and it was only Lan Wangji and his mysterious saviour still breathing. He turned and stepped toward Lan Wangji, Lan Wangji involuntarily took a step back, fearing this man who could control the dead with a mere musical note.
The man stopped and raised his hands, moving cautiously, as if trying to calm a startled animal.
“Lan Zhan…”
“How do you know my name?!” Lan Wangji said, holding his sword defensively. The man might have been a visiting cultivator from the senior classes, but Lan Wangji had never known Cloud Recess to accept students who perverted the normal rules of cultivation.
The man in black glanced back down the hill where the fighting raged on. “We need to move, it’s not safe here” pointedly avoiding Lan Wangji’s question and taking another step closer.
Lan Wangji's expression hardened. "I am to fight."
“No,” The man in black took a step to block him, “wait,” he hesitated, “...your family… they sent me to retrieve you."
Understanding dawned on Lan Wangji's. "You mean to find my brother”, everyone had always said they had looked alike, “he is the one you seek." Hesitating for only a moment, Lan Wangji carefully untied the ribbon from his forehead – a symbol for his brother- offering it to the man in black.
“Promise,” Lan Wangji didn’t waver, “he will not want to leave while there is still fighting, but you must make him. Tell him I went willingly… tell him I fought alongside our father…”, tell him that Lan Wangji loved him, was proud to be his brother and a million other things that he hadn’t had never said, but had always felt.
The man looked confused, then horrified, “What…I can't... this means…Wait…no!!”. But Lan Wangji, thinking of his older brother's importance and the family's hopes pinned on him, shook his head. He was the second son. This was his duty.
The man in black gripped the ribbon, his knuckles white against the light blue fabric. "I am here to save you”.
“My father has commanded me…”
“Fuck your father,” the man in black interrupted with a ferocity that made Lan Wangji flinch. His eyes darted around their surroundings, a fierce urgency now driving his movements. "They can’t do this to you. This isn’t…. not like this."
Lan Wangji didn’t move. "The Wen’s cannot be allowed to conquer Cloud Recess."
"... this isn’t the Wens….," desperation was seeping into the man in black's voice, "Cloud Recesses will burn, you cannot change that."
Lan Zhan didn’t move.
The man in black exhaled sharply, the weight of some unseen knowledge pressing down on him. "This place isn’t…” he paused, “This isn’t….” he paused again, clearly unable to say what he wanted. Eventually, “Please. Lan Zhan. You have to trust me."
Before Lan Wangji could respond, a movement on the rooftops caught their attention. Wen soldiers appeared, their silhouettes eerily elongated by the firelight as they crawled like animals along the roof. As Lan Wangji watched, their forms began to distort, limbs elongating, and faces contorting grotesquely. The transformation was horrific, skin tearing and bones snapping as they reshaped.
Reacting swiftly, the man in black quickly pulled a talisman from his robes and thrust it into Lan Wangji's hand. “Go to the Jin Shi,” he barked, already focused on the creatures above. “Don’t argue, we don’t have time. Go through the doors.” he glanced back at the young Lan, “GO!”
One of the creatures leapt down, and the man in black moved to engage it, drawing their attention away from Lan Wangji. Trusting the man's words, Lan Wangji sprinted towards Jin Shi, his feet barely touching the ground.
Reaching the doors of the Jin Shi, he didn't hesitate. Gripping the talisman tightly, Lan Wangji stepped through, and the world around him plunged into absolute darkness.
–
The frigid winter air nipped at Lan Wangji's small cheeks, reddening them. The large doors of the Jin Shi loomed ahead, closed and unyielding. He clenched his small hands to warm them but stayed kneeling in the snow, trying to maintain some semblance of propriety. His feet were cold, his breath visible with every small exhale, but he was determined. He was waiting for his mother.
Lan Wangji may have been only five, but he had the stubbornness of his clan. He knew, in the simple way that children did, that if he waited long enough if he behaved well enough, his mother would emerge through those large doors. She had to because everyone said she would if he was on his best behaviour, and he had been, he would be allowed to see her. Even his Uncle had noted how well he behaved for a boy of his age.
Suddenly, a familiar but out-of-place sound of footsteps crunching in the snow drew his attention. With the curiosity of a child, he glanced over to see a tall figure cloaked in black, his face hidden by shadows. But Lan Wangji wasn't scared, the man seemed familiar in a way Lan Wangji couldn't place and an odd sense of recognition and warmth welled within him.
The man in black watched the little boy, a look across his face that the five-year-old Lan Wangji couldn’t recognise- but looked like his uncle's face when he was angry, only colder. Slowly, the man in black crouched down, coming to the child's level.
"Hello, little one," he said, voice soft, devoid of the anger Lan Wangji had sensed a moment ago.
“Shouldn’t talk to strangers,” Lan Wangji recited. The man beamed and showed his wrist. Around it was a Lan headband. He was family.
“Not a stranger, promise” he smiled, “what are you doing out here? It's very cold."
Lan Wangji looked up at the house. "Waiting for Mama," he replied earnestly.
The man's face tightened. "Such a good boy you are," he started gently, "can I wait with you?"
Lan Wangji looked at the strange man. Maybe he knew where his mother was. “Are you waiting too?” Why couldn’t she come out? Everyone had promised! He’d done his best behaviour all month. He’d done the right thing, he'd memorised all the silly rules. He hadn’t even played with his rabbits. Lan Wangji's eyes welled up, but he would not cry, he had to be brave like the people in the stories his mother read to him.
A weary sigh escaped the man's lips. “Aiya little one,” pulling his cloak off and wrapping it around Lan Wangjis little shoulders, “none of that. You are a very good boy,” he said as if reading the thoughts of the confused five-year-old in front of him, “I think we should wait together for her to come out.” Lan Wangji hesitated, “I promise it's not against the rules,” he said.
Lan Wangji looked down, cold and embarrassed but gave a small nod. The man beamed, lifting Lan Wangji effortlessly; he carried Lan Wangji to the steps of the Jin Shi, bundling him up even further in the rest of his cloak and pulling him into his lap.
“When she opens the door, I'll wake you up. But now it's past the bedtime of little Lans.”
“Promise?” Lan Wangji asked, head borrowed against the larger man's chest, feeling inexplicably warm and safe.
The grip around him tightened. “Rule three,” no lying. For a while, Lan Wangji drifted, not quite awake but also not quite asleep, when he felt the man shift slightly.
“If you’re about to come out in the form I think you are about to, I will destroy you,” he said with a calm and terrifying certainty to someone out of Lan Wangji's sight. Lan Wangji tried to open his eyes but they were so suddenly so heavy, as if someone was forcing them to stay closed. Lan Wangji heard the sounds of dragged footsteps and the sway of material coming from the Jin Shi.
The footsteps crunched into the snow, and the temperature plunged, Lan Wangji shivered, it was suddenly so much colder, but his eyes remained closed and the man's grip tightened. The thing on the snow hissed, its voice sounding like a chorus of whispers, echoing eerily. “Leave little cultivator. This one is known to us. He is ouuurrrsss”.
“Drop the face, now,” the man in black growled, his voice sharp and biting, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he had used moments earlier.
The thing laughed, sounding like nails down a chalkboard. “There is so much feeling for this memory, if physical wounds will not break him, maybe thissss will.”
The man in black didn’t respond, but the sky darkened and the wind picked up. Lan Wangji briefly opened his eyes and looked up to find the man in black’s eyes a dark red, furiously staring at something out of Lan Wangji’s sight, his grip on Lan Wangji didn’t lessen.
“Leave.”
“All thingssss breakssss,” the voices said, but they drew back, as if pushed away. After a long moment, the wind died down, and a peaceful silence descended around the Jin Shi.
“I thought I told you to go to sleep,” the man in black finally said quietly, anger gone. Lan Wangji burrowed closer.
“Not sleepy” he yawned out.
The man in black gave a small smile, finally looking down at the charge in his lap, his eyes back to normal as one hand moved in small circles on the boy's back, just like Lan Wangji’s mother had when he was younger. “Rule three- no lying, and little Lans need all the sleep they can get.”
Lan Wangji’s little head nodded seriously, not understanding the man in black but trusting him anyway. He yawned and borrowed closer, and sleep came easily to him.
–
Lan Wangji found himself disoriented in the middle of a pitched battle at the NIghtless city, the air thick enough of resentment to choke on it. The world was a swirling storm of chaos, with lightning flashing above, and the sounds of clashing blades ringing in the air. The energy was so dark and intense it felt almost suffocating. The cold winds of the Nightless City tore at Lan Wangji’s robes, the sounds of combat rang in his ears, and everywhere he looked, ravenous corpses lunged at him, their gnashing teeth bared and their dead eyes filled with insatiable hunger. The cacophony of battle cries, screams, and desperate pleas for mercy were almost drowned out by the twisted notes of music in the air. The notes were discordant and grating against the ear; their inherent wrongness jarred against the bones of the living, just as the same notes called the dead back to life.
Corpses, controlled by demonic cultivation, lashed out indiscriminately while cultivators fought against them. Sword in hand, he stepped back as a Lan cultivator fell to the ground in front of him, choking on his blood as a corpse pulled at him. Without thinking, Lan Wangji swung his sword down heavily, almost decapitating the corpse in front of him. He reached down to help the cultivator, but the man was already dead. There was a piercing note, and suddenly the dead cultivator's eyes snapped open, cloudy and unseeing. It grasped with bloody hands at Lan Wangji. The jarring notes had brought it back from the dead.
Lan Wangji hesitated. It was all the corpse needed.
It lunged forward with inhuman strength and grabbed at Lan Wangji. It slammed into him, unbalancing him and forcing them both to the floor, its recently torn open throat still bleeding sluggishly. It leaned over him, its mouth snarling and yawning open. Lan Wangji stabbed wildly into its stomach, a move that would have immediately killed anything living.
The corpse pulled the sword out cleanly and threw it across the battlefield, clear out of Lan Wangji's reach. Its lifeless fingers sought his throat, and Lan Wangji desperately tried to push him away, all technique gone as he struggled to breathe.
Suddenly the corpse was flung aside with incredible force, revealing a man in black standing over him, eyes blazing and furious, his aura like a storm about to break.
The man was breathing heavily and covered in blood and muck, pulling Lan Wangji up roughly. He thrust a sword into Lan Wangji’s hands, “Kill anything that comes near us, and don’t leave my fucking sight,” he growled in fury. The man was distracted as he looked around at the battlefield. “Here!? It brought us here?!” he asked, looking at Lan Wangji as if he could answer.
Lan Wangji had no idea what he meant.
Suddenly, another corpse came for them, Lan Wangji brought up his sword and opened his mouth to tell the man to run, but the creature didn’t even get within three steps before the man in black whistled a single high and discordant note. The creature immediately turned into ash, falling to the ground. Lan Wangji looked at the man in alarm; that was demonic cultivation he’d used.
“Gods.. we don’t have time for your concerns over demonic cultivation,” the man said, “Lan Zhan, we need to get out of here before…”
Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the sound of thunder and the shrill notes of a flute, Lan Wangji looked up to see Wei Wuxian’s silhouette standing atop the gatehouse, outlined by a flash of lightning, flute in hand as resentment swirled around him at the epicentre of the chaos.
Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji needed to get to Wei Ying.
Ignoring the man in black's protests, Lan Wangji surged forward. As if orchestrated, cultivators and corpses alike parted waves, creating a clear path for him and immediately closing behind him, separating him from the man in black. He could hear the man in black shouting after him, his voice thick with anger and concern. But it was lost to the wind as undead figures swarmed to block the dark-clad figure's advance.
As Lan Wangji ran through the battlefield, it felt as though Wei Ying was getting further away. “Wei Wuxian,” he screamed, all normal restraint gone. He had to get there. He had to do something to stop this. He leapt up, using what felt like scant spiritual energy left to land on the roof where Wei Wuxian was orchestrating the chaos.
Wei Wuxian, or this monstrous version of him, finally turned to him. The usual gentle eyes were now vacant, wild and untamed. If Lan Wangji had noticed, he would have heard the two sets of discordant flute notes playing; jarring against one another, but he could only focus on one thing; stopping and saving Wei Wuxian.
“Please,” a Lan rarely begged, he hoped Wei Wuxian would understand everything he was trying to convey. Please stop this; please let me help; please be ok.
Wei Wuxian’s hair was blowing in the storm, eyes black, holding a sword where previously he’d held a flute, clearly wanting to fight. But Lan Wangji had never been able to fight Wei Wuxian in anger, and he wouldn’t start now. Lan Wangji dropped his sword to his side, a clear sign of surrender.
From down below the man in black could see everything that was happening, “Don’t even think about it,” the man screamed at the heavens. “There is no pain I will not bring down if you hurt Lan Zhan with that face!!” He used his sword to slash a cut across his palms and slammed them into the ground. Momentarily, corpses stopped in their tracks and cultivators fell to their knees unable to withstand the power, and the man in black surged forward, but he was so far away.
He wasn’t going to get there in time.
The black-eyed version of Wei Ying smiled at Lan Wangji, his teeth pointed and sharp, claws were only moments ago there had been hands, “finnnnnnally.”
The man down below fought off creatures from every side as they slowly started to break from his spell. His anger was evident in the devastating blows he landed, but his focus remained on Lan Wangji, trying to bridge the widening chasm between them. “This isn't real, Lan Zhan! You have to remember!"
Lan Wangji looked down at the man in black, something tugged strongly in his ribcage, but he couldn’t name it. He hesitated. But in the next moment, it didn’t matter; he looked down to see Wei Wuxians sword through his chest as the face of the monstrous Wei Ying leered at him.
For one awful minute, there was disbelief. Then there was only a pain and cold unlike anything he had ever felt.
As he crumpled to the ground, vision blurring, the last thing he witnessed was the man in black, in a fit of grief and rage, unleashing a blast of demonic power, obliterating everything nearby – including the monstrous version of Wei Ying.
–
Lan Zhan ran up the hill, lungs and legs burning, sweat sticking to his hair close to his neck. He ran through the dead trees at the base of the Burial mounds.
He needed to get the caves. He needed to warn Wei Ying. His brother and numerous other cultivators were coming to kill him. Lan Wangji didn’t have a plan, but he had to do something. He reached an opening in the cave and the mouth of the Demon Slaughtering Cave in front of him. Running into the cave he saw a figure that twisted his heart with both relief and sadness—it was Wei Ying.
“Wei Ying,” the figure didn’t move. Lan Wangji's eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and took in Wei Ying properly. His robes were torn and stained with blood.
“Has the great Hanguang-Jun come to finish me?” he snarled viciously.
Lan Wangji ignored him, “They are sending cultivators to kill you, you need to leave now.”
Wei Ying remained unmoved.
“Leave, I will make as much time for you as I can.” Lan Wangji could do this, he could finally protect Wei Ying. For a moment, Wei Ying seemed to waver, as if finally listening to Lan Wangji, his face still shrouded in darkness.
“You can’t protect me, you’ve never been able to”, the barbed words stung. Lan Wangji opened his mouth to protest, to argue against it but there was suddenly a sound from the clearing. Turning, he saw a man come out from the trees. Dressed all in black, the man's eyes were smart and calculating. Lan Wangji didn’t recognise him from any of the sects, but he had a sword in his hand. Clearly he was here to hurt Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji couldn’t let that happen. Stepping in front of Wei Ying at the mouth of the cave he brought his sword up. The man e looked around the clearing and the cave before finally noticing Lan Wangji, a distraught look crossed his face as if appalled to find him there.
“What are you doing here?”
Lan Wangji said nothing, and he felt the hand of Wei Wuxian on his shoulder. His Wei Ying.
“Do as you’ve promised, save me, Lan Zhan, he’s here to kill me,” the voice whispered. It grated Lan Wangji in a way that Wei Wuixans voice never has. But he couldn’t stop. He had to save Wei Ying.
“How do you know this place?!” the man in black shouted at Lan Wangji, sword falling to his side in shock.
Wei Wing, who was behind Lan Wangji, hissed.
“Lan Zzzzhaaan,” Wei Yin hissed. Had Wei Ying's voice always sounded like that? Grating and wrong in a way he couldn’t identify. “if you step aside, he will kill me, and it will be your fault. You will have killed me. You promised to protectsss meee.”
“You promised this thing nothing,” the man in black spat. “Move, let me kill it,”
Lan Wangji stood firm. “No,”
“I have no idea why you are here, but you -need- to step aside. This isn’t your fight.”
Lan Wangji didn’t move, and for a moment there was complete stillness. And everything seemed to pause or fade away, apart from the man in black in front of him.
“You truly don’t recognise me, do you?” the man asked; face stricken. “This thing…” he paused, before moving carefully, clearly cataloguing his moves, and slowly pulled up his sleeve. There, wrapped around the vambrace was a tightly bound thin blue ribbon. Lan Zhan’s eyes widened, he would recognise it anywhere. It was his.
He suddenly realised his forehead was bare. When had that happened? Where was his ribbon? Why did the man have it?
“You gave this to me, so I could find you. None of this is real, Lan Zhan, I need you to remember.”
Lan Wangji’s sword wavered.
“Please,” the man begged, stepping closer until he was within stabbing distance, but Lan Wangji found he couldn’t move- as if frozen. “This isn’t real,” he pleaded, “please Lan Zhan…my Lan Zhan,” he sounded desperate, hands clenched in an aborted attempt to reach out- as if fighting something that would normally come to him unconsciously “I need you to remember, to wake up. None of this is real.”
But it felt real. Nothing this painful couldn’t not be.
The man in black opened his mouth as if to say something but his eyes widened at something behind Lan Wangji. Immediately the man in black grabbed him and hauled him into the clearing, pushing Lan Wangji behind him, just as several inhumanly long corpse arms sprang from the cave as if trying to pull Lan Wangji back in. There was a howl and a lumbering form of Wei Wuixian came out of the cave. Lan Wangji almost stumbled in shock as he watched a monster crawl out with Wei Ying's face.
Emerging from the shadows, the creature's long, elongated neck craned forward, each vertebrae jutting sharply beneath its pallid, sinewy skin. Wei Ying's face resembled a grotesque waxen version of himself, sallow with blackened eyes. It grinned and its face tore into a mockery of a smile; revealing a mouth filled with needle-sharp teeth, each one glistening with a sickly, unnatural sheen.
The body, a gnarly tangle of twisted limbs, moved with a disjointed, almost puppet-like grace, each jerky motion defying the natural rhythm of living creatures. His arms were now grotesquely long and thin and ended in clawed hands, the nails curling into razor-sharp points and a faint, metallic scraping sound accompanied its movements.
The temperature seemed to drop, the very presence of the creature sucking warmth and light from the surroundings. “Youuuuuu,” it hissed, “you did thissss.”
“We need to kill it,” The man in black murmured, passing a small pouch to Lan Wangji, and pulling talismans from his clothes.
Lan Wangji stared at the man in black, confused. “Have we done this before?”
The man in black gave a mirthless smile, “No- we’ve never got this far before. It must be desperate.”
The ground moved suddenly, as the wind picked up; the creature scuttled forward, its movements almost insect-like as it bore down on them. Lan Wangji moved to the right, while the man in black dived left- diverting its attention.
“We need to stop it moving," the man shouted, barely heard over the din of the wind and the creatures. He lunged forward and slammed a talisman on one of the thing's legs before darting out of its reach. Lan Wangji used the creature's distraction to slash at two other legs.
The thing howled and turned to face Lan Wangji, sneering. The face morphed, where a moment it had been Wei Wuxians, now it was his father, his stern scowl from Lan Wangjis memories distorted by eyes that were totally back.
“Second son, unloved and unwanted” it sneered, clearly wanting a reaction.
Lan Wangji would give this thing nothing.
The creature with his father's face lunged at him, and Lan Wangji swung hard, blocking it. It snarled, its neck twisting unnaturally to try and bite him. Suddenly there was a ‘twang’ and an arrow slammed into its side. Lan Wangji looked up, the man in black had found a bow. “Keep it distracted,” the man ordered, eyes hard, and Lan Wangji understood immediately. He surged around, keeping the creature distracted while the man in black found weaknesses to hit. They fought against the creature together, moving in seamless tandem and forcing it back with their unrelenting attacks. The creature roared and Lan Wangji swept his legs low, forcing the creature to leap- whilst the man in black fired another arrow that caught it in the chest; forcing it to the ground with an inhuman force that cracked the ground below it. The creature landed on its back and Lan Wangji swung his sword down for the killing blow.
The creature changed from his father to Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji hesitated, his sword at Wei Wuxians throat. “You would kill me again,” it sobbed. Voice carrying over the storm that raged around them- flashes of unnatural red lightening threaded through the storm; as if it was fighting itself.
Lan Wangji found he couldn't move, he couldn’t attack Wei Wuxian; even when it was a twisted memory.
The thing leered and battered his sword aside before using its inhuman speed and body to throw him against a large stone near the entrance to the cave, Lan Wangji's head rang as he tried to stand while the creature slithered over.
There was an inhuman roar over the storm and the man in black had a bow in his hand, but this time an arrow of pure resentful energy was strung up. The creature growled, “nuissssance necromancerrrr,” it turned and launched itself at the man.
Using the wall as a crutch, and head spinning Lan Wangji watched as the storm picked up around the two of them. It was clear that neither of them was using weapons he recognised, instead seeming to rely on weapons shaped from resentful energy. Swallowing down the nausea, he moved forward- he would not leave the man alone to fight the creature.
He took a step forward, and the man glanced at him. The monster used the moment of distraction to surge forward, throwing the man in black across the clearing to just a few feet from Lan Wangji. The man was slowly levering himself up, clearly winded from the throw and distracted. Lan Wangji watched in slow-moving horror as the monster's many hands started to shape a spear of pure resentful energy. Without thinking, Lan Wangji surged forward with a speed he didn’t know he was capable of, covering the man with his body.
“Wha…” the man looked up confused.
The spear of resentful energy went through Lan Wangji.
The man in black's eyes widened; ‘No…. no, no no,” he didn’t seem capable of other words.
Pain immediately bloomed across his side, burning like a curse but deathly cold. Lan Wangji sank to his knees. He tried to breathe but it was impossible. The creature leered and went to move forward when Lan Wangji heard a whistle, but it was so high-pitched he couldn’t be sure. Lan Wangji saw the man in black pull a dizi from his mouth, eyes fully black.
He glanced down at Lan Wangji and gave a small nod. Suddenly, as if through muscle memory alone, Lan Wangji gathered up the last of his spiritual energy and found his spiritual weapon Wangji in his hands, unheeding of his injury he strummed the most destructive chord he could think of towards the monster.
At the same time, the man released his spell, their notes intertwined launched at the now fully turned monster. Lan Wangji gathered the last of his energy and sent another spiritual wave from his chords which forced the creature to its knees. Not waiting for the beast to come back up, and unheeding his own wounds, he turned quickly, picking up the black man's spiritual sword and ran forward.
This creature who had taken the faces of the people he had loved, who had tried to break him with this own pain.
The sword went clean through its neck and its head rolled away.
Immediately there was a resounding crack, as if the sky itself was rent in two. The creature's body lay unmoving. Lan Wangji fell to his knees, the curse mark on his side growing rapidly.
He wouldn’t have the strength to fight it. The man rushed forward, his face a mixture of fury, anger and desperation.
As the spell world around them cracked and fell, Lan Wangji felt the trickle of his memories finally being returned to him. “... I know you,”
The man in black looked destroyed, “you… you stupid stubborn…” he swore furiously, “...and everyone thinks I’m the stupid self-sacrificing fool.” He pulled at Lan Wangji’s clothes to look at the area where the spear had gone through him; where there should have been blood, the skin was blistered and blackened, an obvious curse mark. "I swear Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan. You just need to hold on.” he cradled Lan Wangjis's face in his hands as if were the most precious thing in the world.
The man in black’s hand moved to hover over the rapidly growing curse mark as if afraid that touching it would make it worse. “Do you trust me?” The man in black asked, desperation clear.
Lan Wangji had no idea who this man was, but he did trust him. Implicitly. He nodded.
The man in black gave a weak smile, “ok, just please don’t be mad when we wake up.'' He pulled Lan Wangji forward so their foreheads rested together, before lightly kissing Lan Wangji’s forehead in the space where his forehead band would normally be, his fingers tightened around Lan Wangji's.
There was a moment of confusion, then a blinding light as the rest of the world fell away
Nothingness.
–
Lan Wangji opened his eyes and knew deep in his heart that this was real.
He remembered. He was awake. Glancing around the room he saw that he was resting on a bed in an inn, above him over the bed talisman swirled lazily in the air and the smell of incense lingered. His throat felt parched and there was a bone-deep exhaustion in him, as if he hadn’t rested in weeks.
He tried to sit up but Wei Ying pushed him down with none of the normal playfulness, "No, husbands that almost die don't get out of bed," he was joking but there was brittleness in his voice.
"Wei Ying," his voice sounded strained as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks. Lan Wangji reached out almost blindly and caught Wei Ying's sleeve.
Wei Ying sighed, defeated in the face of his husband's stubbornness and carefully helped Lan Wangji sit up while holding out water for him to sip. It was only when Lan Wangji started drinking that he realised how thirsty and weak he felt. “How long?” Lan Wangji glanced around to see sigils and markings across the room. Some looked old.
“Long enough,” Wei Ying’s exhaustion was clear on his face; eyes’s tight and red-rimmed, clothes dishevelled, and even the beginning of a sprinkling of stubble around his cheeks. There were numerous cuts on his hands, clearly where he’d gathered the blood for his talismans. “What do you remember?”
“Dreams…” Lan Wangji remembered pain, monsters, and all the things that for so long he’d tried to push away.
“And before?”
Lan Wangji glanced to the side and saw several papermen around the bed, unique talismans on all of them. Some were burnt or singed around the edges. He shook his head at Wei Ying. Wei Ying sighed heavily and sat down on the stool that was next to the bed. There were scuffs on the floor showing how long it had been there.
“There were reports of an increased number of widows committing suicide, we went to investigate,” Wei Ying paused, gathering himself. “It was originally a spirit of a widow cultivator that never moved on, but somewhere down the line, it changed. Became…” he shrugged, it was unimportant what it had become, just that it dared to come after Lan Wangji. “We found it, you tried… you tried to play music for it, free it, help it move on. You felt sorry for it.”
Lan Wangji stayed silent. The spectre of over a decade of Lan Wangji’s mourning hung between them, something they so rarely discussed.
“But it was strong. It went into the minds of people and hurt until they were willing to make it stop,” he paused, clearly stricken, “I saw as it went into you, and at first you fought it. But then it changed, the memories…. It took them and twisted everything. Everything good, and kind, every part of you that loved. It made you relive memories that hurt….”
“How long?”
Wei Ying gestured to the window; under the full moon, Lan Wangji could see red leaves on the branches. The last time he had seen them they had been green. “Any longer and it would have killed you, Lan Zhan. Drained everything until there was nothing left.”
Lan Wangji said nothing; he knew the agony of watching someone he loved in pain and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and most certainly not Wei Ying.
“I tried everything, but every time it just took more and more…All I could do was reset it and watch as it kept coming for you, trying to find a way to defeat it. I tried every talisman I could think of, every spell… but none of them worked… I watched that thing take my face and use it to hurt you…” he trailed off.
Wei Ying looked down at the floor, only ever able to be vulnerable when he thought others weren't looking. Lan Zhan's hand moved to encircle Wei Ying's wrist, his thumb running over Wei Yings pulse point. Silence settled in the room. He counted the beats from Wei Ying's wrist, "Loving Wei Ying is no punishment. Never a chore. Always wanted. Wei Ying makes me strong.”
Wei Ying gave a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, "Not fair Lan Zhan," he moved from Lan Zhan's hand and entangled their fingers. He still had Lan Zhan’s ribbon around his wrist.
"Was it really like that?" Wei Ying asked quietly, purposefully not looking at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan loved him too much to lie, so he said nothing. Wei Ying’s body tensed, able to read Lan Zhan’s silences as clearly as if he’d said the words aloud.
“Wei Ying,” it was a plea, an apology and a balm all in one, A language all of their own, hard fought for and hard-won.
Wei Ying finally looked down at him, “Aiya, we promised each other no more apologies.” He paused, gathering himself.
Lan Zhan didn’t hesitate and pulled his husband down beside because he hadn’t needed to hesitate for years. He knew his affection was welcomed.
“Lan Zh..”
“Hm,” it was a tone that brooked no argument. They had both been through a lot, so they would both rest. Wei Ying smiled, able to understand all that without words. Wei Ying carefully moved himself around Lan Wangji, as if scared to touch wounds that weren’t there.
Lan Zhan pulled him purposefully closer. There were no wounds, and Wei Ying’s presence helped soothe the ones that couldn’t be touched.
“Stubborn,” Wei Ying yawned, head resting lightly on Lan Wangji’s chest. Lan Wangji didn’t deign to give it a response. Wei Ying played with the ribbon around his wrist, events still clearly on his mind. The silence between them stretched and was heavy.
Lan Wangji thought the next words carefully; wanting to make sure they couldn’t be misunderstood as his words had so often been in the past. “Part of me knew you. Knew that you would protect me”
There was a moment of heavy silence. But after a moment Wei Ying pulled lightly away, his face sombre, he tried to push himself up but only made it to his elbows and brought his fingers under Lan Wangji’s chin, forcing him to look at Wei Ying. “I am too selfish to let you go Lan Zhan. Now I have this, I won’t ever give it up. Even with a thousand worlds with a thousand faces. I will always find you.” he paused, “I do not think people would like a world with a Yiling Lauzou and no Hungun-jun.”
Lan Wangji opened his mouth but Wei Ying shook his head lightly while fingers cupped his cheek, and a finger rested lightly on his lips
“It should scare me how far I will go for you, but something in me honestly doesn’t care. If it had taken you…” he stared at Lan Wangji with the most horrible fondness and kissed Lan Wangji chastely on the lips.
It was so rare to see this side of him and Lan Wangji thought it was probably against one of the 4000 rules in his clan for some small part of him to like the fact that Wei Wuxian was terrifying to ghosts, gods and cultivators- but not to him. Never to him.
Wei Ying finally seemed to settle against his chest, his rightful place as far as Lan Wangji was concerned. “Rest”
There was no reply but gentle snoring.
–