Suspension

Oh, this is what Qi-deviation must feel like, a detached part of Lan Wangji thought when he lay on the cliff, screaming after Wei Ying right before Wei Ying reached back to him and wrapped him in a comfort he didn’t deserve and would have never dared to ask. He woke up to a world that had lost its luster and light, and the only thing that kept him going was his resolve to retake Gusu, to give Brother and his mate a home.

He did that. He wrapped his grief around his chest and shielded it with his fury and cut down the Wen occupying his home. He didn’t feel the swords that slashed his flesh or the arrows that nicked his skin, and he waved away the feeble attacks of spiritual energy aimed at him. He didn’t sneak in—he walked straight through the main gate and the wards sang as they recognized his token. He walked up the path, Bichen in his hand and his rage swirling around him in a white-hot whirlwind, tearing into everyone who dared to approach him.

Wei Ying was gone. 

Brother had found his mate.

What was there left for Lan Wangji?

He made his way to the central training field in a storm cloud of death and ice-cold revenge, leaving behind a trail of broken bodies and blood. He didn’t look back, he didn’t glance to his sides, the only way was forward. 

Only a relatively small group of Wen soldiers held Gusu and they fell easily. The last one standing was their captain who held Uncle in front of her like the coward she was, a knife at Uncle’s throat. ”Don’t come any closer, Hanguang-jun!” She cried, her eyes wide with terror, ”Or I’ll cut your uncle’s—”

She died mid-sentence as Bichen slammed through the side of her head, throwing her away from Uncle. 

”Wangji,” Uncle gasped, shocked and relieved. ”Where—”

Lan Wangji called Bichen back and walked away, sparing no thought either on Uncle or the Wen captain whose blood and brain stained the white sand red.

•••

No, this is what Qi-deviation feels like, Lan Wangji’s mind told him as he felt himself slide into madness. Madness that was Wei Ying walking into the Koi Tower’s grand hall, madness that was the cold smile on Wei Ying’s lips, madness that was— 

He felt himself come undone, unraveling like a ball of yarn fallen from the basket. His eyes tracked Wei Ying across the hall, lithe form clad in red and black, and resentful energy licking at his heels like lazy waves reaching out. Distantly, he realized he was shaking but he didn’t know if it was really true because what if nothing was true, how could Wei Ying be there, he was supposed to be dead—

Lan Wangji concentrated on the nearly painful grip Brother had on his wrist because if nothing else was true, that would be—that had to be true, Brother wouldn’t abandon him to this, he had to trust his wrist was connected to the real world but which world was real, the one where Wei Ying was dead or the one he was alive? How could he know?

And then Brother dragged him out of the madness and pressed him into a tight space that Lan Wangji could understand, a space with walls and floor and Brother and—Wei Ying was alive? Brother said he was alive and Brother wouldn’t lie and Lan Wangji could understand nothing else but the tearing, agonizing pain inside him as his world realigned itself, tore itself from its path, and rearranged itself into a reality where Wei Ying was still present.

(In the end, it mattered little. Wei Ying wore Wen Ruohan’s jewelry in his hair and when he walked away, he didn’t even slip on the tattered remains of Lan Wangji’s heart under his boots.

Was this better? Was this worse? He didn’t know.)

•••

Is it Qi-deviation if there’s no Qi left, Lan Wangji wondered distantly. The intricate golden web had fallen apart the moment Wei Ying had keeled over in a torn mess of flesh and blood that hardly resembled a man anymore. Lan Wangji didn’t care. He didn’t care if this was madness or reality, if this world existed or if everything that had happened since the Xuanwu cave had been an elaborate fever dream. He was distantly aware of a searing sound of someone being in mortal distress and realized it was him only when the sound stopped when he drew breath. 

That didn’t matter, either.

He had no idea what he was doing when he reached inside of him and tore out his own spiritual energy—violently, carelessly—and pushed it into the remains of his beloved, poured out everything he had to give. He stubbornly refused to let Wei Ying go, not after he’d seen the look in Wei Ying’s eyes when their eyes had met for the last time.

He would not let go. 

He would not give up. 

He would not go on alone, not this time, never again.

As his spiritual energy ran dry, Lan Wangji felt darkness creeping in on him. He bared his teeth in a snarl and fought back, crawled forward to Wei Ying who was still there, his Wei Ying, alive, somehow. The world around them was hostile for Wei Ying and Lan Wangji would shield him, protect him, he would show Wei Ying, he would prove himself, he wouldn’t—

Lan Wangji opens his eyes with a small exhale. 

The room is quiet and peaceful and Wei Ying a warm weight next to him. He presses his nose against Wei Ying’s neck and breathes in deep, closes his eyes again even though he knows he won’t fall asleep again. He never does after these dreams. Remembering Wei Ying’s death is always painful but reliving it vividly, painfully clearly in his dreams makes him shaky for the rest of the day.

Earlier, in his life before Wei Ying, Lan Wangji would’ve risen and meditated, perhaps written the rules to ease his mind. Now, no amount of meditating or copying will bring him the same peace of mind as this, having Wei Ying in his arms. Safe. Instead of his breathing, Lan Wangji concentrates on the feel of Wei Ying’s spine under his fingers, gently caressing each knob that stretches the skin. Instead of his inner peace, Lan Wangji reaches out for the sound of Wei Ying’s heart, beating steadily in his chest as though there had never been anything to stop it. Instead of observing the flow of his Qi, Lan Wangji trails his gaze along Wei Ying’s form, traces his arms and the dip of his ribs and the sharp lines of his hip under the thin robe with a feather-light touch. It brings him far greater peace and serenity than any Gusu Lan meditation practice ever has.

They share the bed even though they’re not yet mated and when—if—they return to Gusu, they’ll live together in the Jingshi. Lan Wangji knows Jiang Wanyin hates the arrangement and Uncle will loathe it even more, and Lan Wangji couldn’t care less. He knows his own mind and his own behavior—he knows just how much he adores and respects Wei Ying and he knows Wei Ying trusts him. 

For Lan Wangji, that’s all that matters, the rest of the world can go to Hell. He already went and he knows his redemption is here, nestled against Wei Ying’s skin.

Wei Ying lets out a small sound of distress, drawing Lan Wangji’s focus back on his face. His brow is slightly furrowed and a flicker of unease flashes across his face. It’s not the frown he has when he has nightmares, so Lan Wangji picks up the damp towel from the bed, cools it with a short burst of his spiritual energy, and places it on Wei Ying’s brow. A short moment later, his unease seems to pass and Lan Wangji nods.

Headache.

He sighs.

They’re almost out of the pain-relieving tea Doctor Wen has provided but Lan Wangji refuses to leave Wei Ying alone—not because he cannot be trusted to be on his own but because now that they finally understand each other, the mere thought of leaving the room makes his skin crawl. And…well. Truth to be told, Wei Ying cannot be left alone because he would probably try to do something unwise like sitting up on his own. That would be detrimental to his recovery and Lan Wangji won’t have it. 

A light tap on the door makes him frown. Carefully, he gets up and covers Wei Ying with his outer robe, knowing the scent will soothe his omega, and makes his way to the door.

”Hanguang-jun,” Nie Huaisang greets him with a small bow. ”May I come in?”

Lan Wangji glances at the bed. ”Wei Ying is asleep.”

A small frown draws on Nie Huaisang’s face. ”Oh. I was hoping to catch him awake but…perhaps I’ll come back later.”

Lan Wangji cocks his head. He can’t quite figure Nie Huaisang out. He seems like a harmless omega but the events in the past weeks have made him reconsider. Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, and Wei Ying are planning something—have been planning something—and he has no idea what. None of them is harmless, Nie Huaisang perhaps the least. 

”Could I—” he starts and glances back again. 

Nie Huaisang waits a short moment and then says, ”Hanguang-jun, if you need to run errands or even just take a short walk, I’d be more than happy to stay with him.” A small, private smile touches his lips. ”I have been watching over him for some time now, after all.”

After a short internal debate, Lan Wangji nods. ”Thank you. I won’t be long.”

”Of course. I’ll just sit down to paint.” With that, Nie Huaisang walks calmly around him, settles down at the table, and sets down the bundle he’d been carrying. His eyes dart around the room with practiced ease and take in Wei Ying’s sleeping form before he opens the bundle and carefully spreads out his paints and brushes.

Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying one more time and then leaves.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling, walking away. So far, he’s done it exactly once, which had turned out to be when Wei Ying woke up properly for the first time and saw Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang. It is something Lan Wangji hasn’t forgiven himself. He should’ve been there. But he’d been practically forced out to take a bath and when faced with both Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang, he knew better than protest. 

And now, even though Wei Ying is safe and Nie Huaisang watches over him, letting his omega out of his sight still manages to induce a flare of panic in his gut. He squashes it and reminds himself that he’s going to replenish Wei Ying’s pain medication and get them a light supper from the kitchens. He’s providing for his omega, he’s doing the right thing even though it might feel wrong.

He can’t wait to share a home with Wei Ying, to live with him in a small house, to cook for his omega, to care for him properly…

His omega.  

Lan Wangji pauses to take a steadying breath. The phrase manages to make him light-headed even though he’s known for a long while now that Wei Ying is the only one for him. But he never truly believed they’ll end up here. Together. That he would have everything he’s ever dreamed of in the palm of his hand—

It’s a testimony of how preoccupied he is when he nearly collides, to his dismay, with Sect Leader Jiang. He nods curtly and is about to move along when Jiang Wanyin’s voice stops him.

”I don’t like you.”

Lan Wangji turns slowly around. ”Excuse me?” He asks, incredulous.

Jiang Wanyin rolls his eyes. ”You heard me,” he snaps. ”I. Don’t. Like. You. But I don’t have to. And I know you definitely don’t like me.” He lets out a long breath and then jerks his head to the direction Lan Wangji was heading. 

If given the choice, Jiang Wanyin wouldn’t be his chosen companion but…this is Wei Ying’s brother. Lan Wangji will endure.

Jiang Wanyin snorts. ”Yeah, I bet you enjoy this conversation just as much as I do. Fact is, the idiot is my brother and your mate. And don’t give me that look—he was my brother long before you even met him and you don’t get a say on how we interact.” He falls silent and scowls. ”He tried to tell me, you know? After the whole thing in Gusu and again after Lotus Pier burned down. I wasn’t willing to listen. I fucked up.” 

He stops and grits his jaw so hard Lan Wangji can hear it. 

”I have said and done things I regret,” Jiang Wanyin says slowly through his teeth. ”And I’ve left things unsaid and undone. I know I fucked up. Badly. I know you…love him but I’m not accountable to you. I’m accountable to him.”

Lan Wangji blinks.

”Right,” Jiang Wanyin says. Then he shoves a pouch at Lan Wangji. ”That’s his favorite Yunmeng tea. I’ll send you more when you’re back in the Cloud Recesses.” He turns to leave and then whirls back. ”He hides his pain,” he says, finally looking Lan Wangji straight in the eye. ”That’s what he always does. He’s used to pain and he hides it well. Don’t take him at the face value.”

”I know he’s hurting,” Lan Wangji snaps, seething. How foolish does Jiang Wanyin think he is? Wei Ying was torn apart, of course he is in pain!

”Yeah, for now, you know. But when all this,” Jiang Wanyin waves his hand around in a vague motion, ”is over, he’ll go back to hiding it.” He takes a long breath through his nose and huffs it out. ”Have you seen the scars on his legs? He got them when a wild dog attacked him when he was a kid. If you ask him, he’ll laugh and start talking about something else. But his leg hurts when he overexerts himself and it aches when it’s cold. And that’s why he’s terrified of dogs.”

Lan Wangji frowns. He already knows this. ”Why are you telling me this?”

”Like I said, I don’t like you. But he does.” He scowls at his feet for a moment, then nods, and stalks away.

”And yet, you called dogs on him,” Lan Wangji calls after him.

Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders tense up as he pauses. ”And I deserve everything that came after,” he says without turning around.

Lan Wangji frowns at his retreating back until he turns the corner, then he shakes his head and continues to the kitchens.

The Palace of the Sun and Flames has many kitchens and one of them is conveniently close to the room where Wei Ying is recuperating. It’s smaller than the main kitchens, clearly meant for cooking for patients, and Lan Wangji approves of the feel of a medicinal space. Nightless City is…unsettling to him and the kitchens remind him of home. The cooks are from Gusu and Qishan, respectively, approved by Doctor Wen and Brother both, although Lan Wangji is sure Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao have been an integral part of the vetting process. Bother’s mate has been scarily efficient, organizing everything from cooking to housing to treating the wounded, and all the while looking after both Wei Ying and Lan Wangji.

He probably should be fervently glad all that fortitude is on their side.

The cooks greet him with cheerful nods, pointing at a side table where a tray is ready and waiting. Before Maiden Jiang departed for Yunmeng, she’d drilled the cooks in Wei Ying’s favorite dishes and instructed them how to best use Yunmeng’s medicinal herbs. The bowl is filled with fish broth this time (though how they managed to get their hands on fresh fish is beyond Lan Wangji), and he quirks a brow when he sees the red flakes sprinkled on top of the soup.

”We checked with Mistress Wen,” the beta cook in Wen robes says. ”We thought Young Master Wei would like his soup with some spice. She said a small amount would be okay.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says, picks up the tray, and leaves, adjusting the heating talisman slightly when he’s out of the cooks’ line of vision.

He’s annoyed when the conversation with Jiang Wanyin keeps playing in his head. As much as he would like to deny it, the bitter truth is that Jiang Wanyin is Wei Ying’s brother and if Wei Ying wants to keep in contact with him, it’s not Lan Wangji’s place to tell him no. But he wants to. Jiang Wanyin hurt Wei Ying and that isn’t something Lan Wangji is willing to let go of.

But if this is what Wei Ying truly wants to do, Lan Wangji will not stand in the way of their reunion. (He will make no promises about standing next to Wei Ying and glaring at Jiang Wanyin, though.)

He frowns as he thinks about Jiang Wanyin’s comment about Wei Ying’s pain issues, completely oblivious to how a Jin disciple blanches and hurries out of his way. He’s been suspecting something like that for a while now, as Wei Ying tries to downplay his pain even now when his body has been shredded and put back together. It’s something he has to keep an eye on.

Doctor Wen’s door is slightly ajar, indicating she’s free. Lan Wangji knocks on the doorframe and enters, inclining his head in greeting as she looks up from her books.

”Hanguang-jun,” she says. ”Here for more pain medication?”

Lan Wangji nods.

She hums and stands up. ”Thought so. We need to start weaning him off of it soon. This blend is efficient but shouldn’t be used for too long. The long-term effects can be harmful to normal cultivators but in his case…” She shakes her head as she prepares the blend for the tea, measuring the ingredients with practiced ease.

He likes her, the brusque and no-nonsense persona that sees no point in wasting time with unnecessary small talk. She wants to do her job, she wants to do it well, and move on. They haven’t had a chance to sit down for tea but Lan Wangji feels like he would like to do that sometime.

He clears his throat and lifts the soup bowl’s lid. ”The chili,” he says.

”Ah,” she says and glances at him before concentrating on her work again. ”Yes, that amount is fine. If a bit of spice makes him eat better, I have no problem with that. You can tell him that he can have chili oil and red portions when he can walk the garden perimeter twice on his own without fainting.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says. A moment later, he continues, slower, ”Sect Leader Jiang… He mentioned something about Wei Ying hiding his pain.”

Doctor Wen pauses and sighs. ”Sadly, he would be correct. I don’t know how long he’s been living with it—perhaps his whole life? His meridians were oversensitive to pain to begin with and after he blew himself up…” She shakes her head and carefully transfers the blend into sachet she hands to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji slips it into his sleeve. ”Did he let you treat him?” 

”Yes and no,” Doctor Wen says. ”I did it in the pretense of helping him get rid of the residue of resentful energy. It was slightly tricky back then but now?” She makes a face, clearly frustrated. ”He’s the first of his kind. I have no references, no books, no research to back up my hypothesis of how to carry on. All I can do is to monitor him which will be increasingly difficult when you return to Gusu.” She shoots a quick look at him and corrects, ”Or wherever you’ll be heading next. I need to run a full examination on his core and meridians to establish some kind of a baseline.”

”Wei Ying won’t like that,” he points out.

Doctor Wen snorts. ”Of course he won’t. Unfortunately, I’m his doctor, he’ll just have to endure. I can always say I need the information to determine when he’s physically fit to have any extraneous activities.”  

The quirk of her brow tells Lan Wangji exactly what those are. He heroically doesn’t react. 

”And if all else fails, I’ll recruit Jiang Yanli to help me out,” she says with a small grin.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth. ”Thank you, Doctor Wen,” he says. ”I’ll talk to Wei Ying about the examination and the…reasons for it.”

”You really should call me Wen Qing,” she says. ”And you’re welcome.”

He inclines his head and leaves, relieved to be finally on his way back to Wei Ying. Jiang Wanyin threw him off and he’s spent way too long away from his mate, and the need to be next to him, to see him alive and breathing and there makes his skin buzz.

As he rounds the corner, he sees the door to their rooms—and Nie Huaisang standing right next to it. Before he has the chance to reprimand him for leaving Wei Ying alone, Nie Huaisang flutters his fan and quirks a smile.

”Put your scowl away. I stepped out when I saw you coming. He’s awake and annoyed.”

Lan Wangji’s scowl gets more pronounced. ”Why?”

Nie Huaisang shrugs. ”I don’t know. Because of his post-explosion condition? Because he’s forced to stay here as he’s still too weak to leave? Because he doesn’t know why the Dire Owl still—or again—exists let alone why it came straight to him?” He grins. ”Because he’s not allowed to be ravished by you yet?”

Lan Wangji’s ears grow hot at Nie Huaisang’s words and the too-knowing look in his eyes. ”Mn,” he merely says and opens the door.

”Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims with an exaggerated pout and it instantly unwinds the tight knot in Lan Wangji’s chest. ”Finally! Huaisang is such a bully, why did you abandon me to his cruelty? I’m so hungry but I also feel sick, must be the fumes of this place. Is it soup again? Why can’t I eat real food yet? This isn’t even as good as shijie’s—ooh, are those chili flakes I see? Did Wen Qing finally relent her torturously strict restrictions? Can I get chili oil—”

Wei Ying’s chattering washes over him, easing his anxiety and grounding him to the here and now. As he closes the door behind him, Lan Wangji doesn’t remember to wonder just how Nie Huaisang saw him coming when all the windows of the room face the other way.

”He’s so thin,” Maiden Jiang whispered one day after wiping Wei Ying’s slowly mending skin with a warm cloth. ”I always tried to make him eat more but our mother—” She stopped and swallowed and then gave Lan Wangji a quick glance from the corner of her eye. 

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said and swallowed another spoonful of Maiden Jiang’s delicious broth. 

So far, all her cooking had been delicious: light and yet hearty, nutritious without being tasteless, filling but not too heavy. They never tasted the same and Lan Wangji had a feeling Maiden Jiang added Yunmeng’s medicinal herbs to help him regain his strength. 

She knew of the Lan rule of not talking while eating, of course, and she never expected an answer. Usually, she didn’t even talk when she tended to Wei Ying but when she did—like now—he wanted to let her know he’d heard her.

”He was even thinner when Father brought him home,” Maiden Jiang said after some while. 

She was once more combing Wei Ying’s hair, and Lan Wangji had noticed it often lead to her talking about Wei Ying’s childhood on Lotus Pier and whatever mischief he and Jiang Wanyin had come up with. Lan Wangji was, of course, well aware of what Maiden Jiang was doing: she was gently reminding Lan Wangji—and, he suspected, herself and Wei Ying alike—that Wei Ying had had a family, that he’d been happy as a child, and that Lotus Pier was still his home and waiting for him if he ever wanted to visit.

”Did you know that growing up in constant pain doesn’t make you get used to it?” Maiden Jiang asked softly. ”It doesn’t matter what the pain is—hunger, heartache, the feeling you can’t get quite enough air in your lungs—you learn to live with it but you’re always aware of it. And even if you have better days, you still know the pain is there because you’re expecting it to come back.” 

Lan Wangji had a feeling Maiden Jiang wasn’t talking about just Wei Ying. He felt at a loss of what to do or say—he’d never been good with his words and understanding other people’s feelings has always been challenging for him. But her words resonated deep within him, connecting with the deeply buried ache that had been his constant companion since the loss of his mother.

Maiden Jiang huffed a small laugh, surreptitiously brushing her cheeks. ”Perhaps that’s the reason why he likes my soup so much and why it’s so much more important to him than A-Cheng.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said. He thought about the food in the Cloud Recesses and what Wei Ying had said about it. It was healthy and nutritious but Wei Ying would probably enjoy it more if it had more spice. He made a mental note to make sure the Jingshi was properly stocked with various spices for Wei Ying to choose from. ”Would Maiden Jiang teach me?” He asked hesitantly. ”The soup. For Wei Ying.”

Maiden Jiang raised her head and smiled widely. It lit up her whole face and warmed Lan Wangji to the core. ”Of course, Young Master Lan. It would be my honor.”

Lan Wangji nodded, pleased. 

He would make sure there was always food Wei Ying would enjoy, no matter where they were.

It took Lan Wangji perhaps half a day to realize just how absolutely terrible patient Wei Ying is. He’s always been full of frenetic energy, unable to stay still for long, but ever since he regained consciousness (and then managed to stay conscious for longer than what it takes him to down a bowl of soup), it’s been almost impossible to make him rest. Now that his mind is here and present, the limitations of his fragile, mending body come glaringly obvious.

Talisman work forces him to stay still for some time and so do complex arrays he didn’t have time or energy to figure out and finish before the battle of Nightless City, but his inability to concentrate doesn’t allow him to immerse himself for too long. Wei Ying seems to be buzzing with a barely restrained need to move, either twitching his fingers or limbs or on some occasions, even trying to stand up as if barely sitting up didn’t already cause him pain. He doesn’t let it show, though. Instead of admitting he’s hurting, Wei Ying’s eyes go slightly hazy, the edges of his smile tighten, and his voice turns just the tiniest bit strained. 

As Jiang Wanyin said, he’s trying to cover it up.

His scent gives him away, though: when Wei Ying starts to hide his pain, his scent acquires an undertone Lan Wangji isn’t quite able to name. It’s not the bitter, sharp tang of pain but a sweeter, earthier scent that reminds him of burnt sugar and discarded tea leaves left in the sun for too long. 

The first time he caught it he was confused. It was close to the scent Wei Ying emitted when he was relaxed but the slightest whiff of something gone stale or bad made Lan Wangji’s nose itch. He narrowed his eyes at Wei Ying, took in the way he held himself, how he talked, how sharp his gaze was. There was an underlying sense of something being wrong so, instead of asking, he decided to try something out. He gently plucked the brush from Wei Ying’s hand, removed the table from his lap, and arranged them so that Wei Ying was resting against his chest. He carded his fingers through Wei Ying’s hair, massaged the base of his skull with slow circles, and hummed a song he’d come to think as theirs. Soon, Wei Ying went boneless against him, and as the scent of burnt sugar and old tea leaves slowly dissipated, he drifted off to sleep.

Lan Wangji decided his experiment was a success and has been using the same method ever since.

Sometimes, he wonders if he should feel bad about his constant surveillance. Then he takes a look at Wei Ying, pushing himself past his boundaries again, claiming, ”I’m not tired!” while his eyes take the pinched look that belies his words, and decides that no, surveillance is of utmost importance.

(When Wei Ying realized that Lan Wangji could detect his pain from the scent alone, he tried to change tactics. ”I’m not in that much pain, honest. It’s nothing! We can keep going,” he said with a dazzling smile and a burst of content smell that wasn’t not-quite-genuine.

”No lying,” Lan Wangji said and then cupped his self-sacrificing omega’s cheek. ”And please, don’t try to manipulate me with your scent again.

Wei Ying’s eyes went wide and then he ducked his head in shame. ”You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered.

”Should and will,” Lan Wangji said with finality, kissed him softly, and added, ”Gladly.”

Wei Ying didn’t try it again.)

After some time, Lan Wangji is so attuned to Wei Ying’s pain scent that he starts taking steps subconsciously, even before he notices the scent. Wei Ying doesn’t yet have the strength to work for long at the table, so when Wei Ying’s scent starts to change, he moves them to the bed so that he’s leaning against the wall and Wei Ying rests against his chest. If they’re already in bed, he shifts them so that Wei Ying is as comfortable as possible. And if all else fails, he uses his humming and scalp massage tactic. It never fails to put his omega to sleep.

”How the fuck do you even know before I do,” Wei Ying slurs one day against Lan Wangji’s chest. He’s been pushing himself too hard, walking in the morning and doing talisman research in the afternoon, and his body thanks him now with fatigue that nearly knocked him over. ”You and Wen Qing are the worst,” he mumbles and then lets out a quiet moan as Lan Wangji massages an insistent cramp in his neck.

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says.

”I mean it!” Wei Ying complains. He tries to move but Lan Wangji curls an arm around him, locking him in place. Wei Ying huffs.

”Why?”

”What do you mean—you know why!”

Lan Wangji stops for a moment. ”Do not.”

”You—you do this.” 

The indignation in Wei Ying’s voice should most likely mean something to Lan Wangji but it doesn’t. ”And?” He asks.

Wei Ying whines and presses his red face on Lan Wangji’s robe.

Lan Wangji stifles a smile. ”Wei Ying is precious,” he simply says and lets himself feel smug at the mix of embarrassed and sweet, happy scent Wei Ying lets out. 

If Wei Ying is more awake, this is the point where he tends to squeak and scold Lan Wangji for his shameless words—as if Lan Wangji would stay quiet about his love for Wei Ying ever again. If Wei Ying is almost asleep, he sometimes rewards Lan Wangji with a quiet purr that cuts off when he falls to sleep.

Which is what Lan Wangji hears now. 

He lies on his back and Wei Ying is almost completely on top of him, slightly supported by pillows, and his face tucked into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck. It probably would be better for Wei Ying to rest on his back but they’ve learned this is the only way either of them gets any rest. Lan Wangji gets anxious if he can’t hold Wei Ying and he’s woken up enough times to know that body contact is the most efficient way to keep Wei Ying’s nightmares at bay.

And, of course, this is the only way Lan Wangji can enjoy Wei Ying’s purr.

It’s something he never believed he would have, not after everything that had happened, not from Wei Ying. An alpha’s growl is a sign of aggression and protective rage which is familiar for the Lan alphas, no matter how strong their self-control is. The only mention the Lan teachings have about an omega’s purr is that it happens during heat when they are with their mate and feel completely content. But they are literally sharing the bed with their clothes on, and all Lan Wangji has to do is to hold Wei Ying close.

There is no reason for Wei Ying to— 

Lan Wangji hasn’t been an exemplary alpha. 

And yet.

The sheer enormity of Wei Ying’s trust humbles him and leaves him speechless, cradling his mate, his life, his Wei Ying in his arms.

In all honesty, Lan Wangji would be glad to spend most of their time like this, tangled together in bed, Wei Ying’s nose against his throat and Wei Ying’s purr in his ear. But he also wants to go home, as dismaying and unsettling as it is. Despite everything that’s happened, despite his blatant disregard of propriety and show of excess aggression toward Uncle, he still regards the Jingshi as home. He wants to take Wei Ying there, lay him on the bed where he’s spent so many lonely, yearning nights alone. He wants to carry Wei Ying to his bathtub, sprinkle the water with the herbs he keeps in the Jingshi, and comb Wei Ying’s hair with his own hair oil. He wants to take Wei Ying home, set him in the middle of the Jingshi, and tell him that everything Lan Wangji has ever hold important is his now.

But that means Wei Ying has to get better.

He needs to follow Doctor—Wen Qing’s detailed instructions. He needs to rest. He needs to be patient.

Lan Wangji already knows it’s going to be an uphill battle.

He wonders if kisses would prove a sufficient motivation or if he needs to come up with something more creative.

In the beginning, Maiden Jiang was the one helping Wei Ying. (Or, well, in the very beginning, it had been Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao working with Doctor Wen while Lan Wangji laid unconscious next to his omega.) Lan Wangji didn’t know who had summoned Jiang Yanli but he later decided it had to have been Nie Huaisang who, somehow, knew everything that happened anywhere.

Lan Wangji was awake when Maiden Jiang arrived. She knocked on the door and softly asked if she could enter, and then burst into tears when she saw Wei Ying’s fragile, broken body on the bed. Lan Wangji was torn between his visceral need to stay with Wei Ying and his wish to give Maiden Jiang some privacy. Luckily, he didn’t have to make that choice because Maiden Jiang knelt next to the bed and let her tears flow freely as she gently stroked Wei Ying’s hair.

”Thank you,” she whispered to Lan Wangji. ”Thank you for bringing him back to us. We’ve missed him so much.”

That first time, she didn’t dare to do more than kneel by the bed, stroke Wei Ying’s hair, and cry. When her tears dried up, she started humming, a slowly swaying melody that reminded Lan Wangji of the waves. Wei Ying’s expression didn’t change but his scent did.

”It’s helping,” Lan Wangji said quietly.

Maiden Jiang smiled through a new wave of tears. ”It’s an old lullaby I used to sing to him when he was little.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said and closed his eyes, let himself drift away with Maiden Jiang’s humming in his ears.

The next day, Maiden Jiang came back. She brought with her medicinal herbs and soup, the first for Wei Ying and the latter for Lan Wangji. ”You could sit at the table while I bathe him, Young Master Lan,” she said. ”You don’t have to leave him alone.”

Lan Wangji had to close his eyes to control his feelings. The mere thought of leaving the room was unthinkable and he was beyond grateful for Maiden Jiang for understanding his reluctance. He rose from the bed, lightheaded and clumsy on his feet and his spiritual energy still almost depleted, and slowly made his way to the table. He tried to sit down with his back to the bed but realized he couldn’t because he couldn’t see and what if Wei Ying was gone—

He was jolted from his spiraling thoughts by a small hand gripping his shoulder. ”Young Master Lan,” Maiden Jiang said gently. ”Why don’t you sit on the other side?” 

For a moment, he was almost dizzy with gratitude, the fact that Maiden Jiang could so easily understand the reason for his panic without the need for him to say it aloud. He rounded the table with her hand on his shoulder and sat down, feeling small for the first time in ages. 

Maiden Jiang set the food in front of him and smiled. ”Eat now, Young Master Lan,” she said softly.

She returned to attend to Wei Ying and Lan Wangji averted his eyes to avoid seeing things that were not yet for him to see. Not that he’d see much anyway—Maiden Jiang shielded Wei Ying’s modesty with her small body and Lan Wangji only saw flashes of pale legs and chest from the corner of his eye.

It became a routine: Maiden Jiang would arrive around noon, bring food for Lan Wangji, and then gently bathe Wei Ying’s slowly mending body with a soft cloth doused with water that had Yunmeng’s medicinal herbs in it, touching Wei Ying with such tenderness and care that it made something ache in Lan Wangji’s chest.

•••

When Wei Ying was awake and finally stable enough for his first real bath, he was outraged when he realized he couldn’t manage on his own yet. 

”What do you mean ’you’ll help me bathe’?” He squeaked, eyes wide and slightly wild.

”A-Xian, who do you think has been taking care of you all this time?” Maiden Jiang asked, exasperated and fond.

Wei Ying gaped. ”I’ve been bathed already?” He yelped, his eyes darting from Maiden Jiang to Lan Wangji and back.

”Xianxian, if you hadn’t been bathed at all, don’t you think you’d smell rather ripe already?” Maiden Jiang asked dryly.

”I—I thought—” 

”Yes?”

”Nothing,” Wei Ying grumbled and pursed his lips. The small beauty mark under his lower lip vanished into the pout and Lan Wangji had to fight the urge to lean down and kiss it visible again.

Maiden Jiang sighed. ”A-Xian, do you want to take a proper bath?”

”Yes,” Wei Ying said quietly.

”In that case, I can help you. And I’m sure Young Master Lan is more than capable to carry you to the baths,” she said with a small smile.

”Yes,” Lan Wangji said immediately.

And so he did. 

Nightless City had several big baths warmed by the volcano, and Maiden Jiang had arranged one small bathroom just for them. Lan Wangji gathered Wei Ying in his arms, ignoring both his quiet squeak and the sudden, buzzing heat under his own skin. A short moment later, Wei Ying let out a small, contented sigh, and leaned his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, curled so that his nose brushed Lan Wangji’s throat.

He walked slowly and told himself it was to not jar Wei Ying’s recuperating body and not because of his almost painful need to touch and scent and close. (Maiden Jiang didn’t comment, just slowed down to match her pace to his.) In the bathroom, he carefully lowered Wei Ying down into an awaiting bathtub and then retreated into the antechamber. It was an exercise in patience and restraint to stay behind the door, knowing Wei Ying was right there, naked and wet and vulnerable.

When they were done, Wei Ying was clad in his Jiang underrobe and it made something clench painfully in Lan Wangji’s chest. He knew that they belonged together and that Wei Ying was as undeniably, irrevocably his as he was Wei Ying’s but it had been a special sort of claim to have his silk right next to Wei Ying’s skin.

(Wei Ying promised to wear Lan Wangji’s underrobe as a night robe. It helped surprisingly much.)

The Dire Owl appears again.

This time, it flies in when Lan Wangji opens the door in the morning to pick up the breakfast left on their doorstep. As he bends down, he feels a shiver as something swoops in and he drops the tray and swirls around, Bichen flying to his hand. 

”Oh, hello,” Wei Ying says, perplexed but delighted, quirking a brow at the Dire Owl who landed on his knee. 

Lan Wangji carefully breathes out and steps closer, the ruined breakfast and open door forgotten. ”Wei Ying,” he says slowly. ”Why is it here?”

”I have absolutely no clue,” Wei Ying says and cocks his head, something delighted in his eyes. ”Did you come to tell me something? Talk to me.”

The Dire Owl hops on Wei Ying’s outstretched hand and then leans closer to butt its head against Wei Ying’s cheek. It lets out a hissing gurgle that grates at Lan Wangji’s mind.

”Nothing? Really? What, did you just miss me?”

The Dire Owl coos. It makes Lan Wangji’s skin crawl.

Wei Ying hums and moves the…thing back on his knee and then reaches out for Chenqing. Lan Wangji tries to keep himself from reacting but of course Wei Ying sees it. 

”I’m just going to poke a bit and see if I can determine where it came from,” Wei Ying says with a smile, shrugs slightly (and doesn’t wince which means the gesture most likely doesn’t hurt anymore), and lifts Chenqing to his lips.

It’s the first time Lan Wangji sees him play the flute since—since he—since Wei Ying— 

The melody he plays isn’t the same and it doesn’t carry the same power but it still makes Lan Wangji nauseous and he has to force himself to stay still and not rip the flute off Wei Ying’s hands. He knows Wei Ying isn’t going to die but knowing doesn’t really ease the awful creeping feeling of pure terror in the back of his mind. He swallows and clenches his hand on Bichen’s hilt so hard it cuts to the palm of his hand but it’s a good pain, it grounds him, keeps him here—

”Wangji?” 

In his turmoil, he didn’t even realize someone was behind him. Before he has the chance to act, Brother grips his shoulder and a split moment later, Meng Yao leans against him, just enough for him to feel his warmth through his robes.

”What is it?” Brother asks. His voice is measured and calm and it gives him an anchor to latch on to. 

Question.

Brother asked a question. 

And questions require answers. 

”The Owl,” Lan Wangji says. Last time there had been more people. Jiang Wanyin had been in front of Wei Ying. Now, there’s—

”Wei Wuxian!” Meng Yao snaps, sharper than Lan Wangji has so far heard him. 

”Huh?” Wei Ying asks, his concentration broken. He blinks as he lowers Chenqing and then his eyes go wide with worry. ”Lan Zhan? What—Why—What’s wrong?”

Lan Wangji can’t—he can’t—

Brother gives him a gentle shove and Lan Wangji staggers forward on unsteady feet, falls on his knees in front of the bed, and wraps his arms around Wei Ying as he presses his face on his stomach. He doesn’t even notice the Dire Owl moving to the side as Wei Ying curls close, strokes his hair, and whispers apologies that wash over him. 

He’s distantly aware of Brother’s mate scolding Wei Ying on that same, sharp tone before the door closes and then all he can hear is Wei Ying. Lan Wangji concentrates on the feeling of Wei Ying, his scent and heartbeat, his body in Lan Wangji’s arms. His words make little sense but it’s the voice itself that matters. The voice means Wei Ying is alright. 

Wei Ying is safe. Wei Ying is alive.

Wei Ying is here.

An indefinite time later, he lifts his head and Wei Ying presses their foreheads together. ”I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan,” he says, voice thick with tears. ”I didn’t think—I was just curious, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—”

”No need,” Lan Wangji says automatically. His skin feels tight and something isn’t quite right with his mouth but—

”No,” Wei Ying says. He cups Lan Wangji’s cheeks and wipes his thumbs under his eyes, looking uncharacteristically serious. ”The ’No apologies or thanks’ rule might work in a normal situation. But this…Lan Zhan, I fucked up. I didn’t think how it might feel for you.” 

Lan Wangji closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. It feels like it’s too much and that he’s going to burst with the excess air but he forces himself to breathe out and then in again and it gets better. Easier. 

Quiet, he takes Wei Ying’s hand and kisses his palm. 

Wei Ying lets out a wet laugh. ”Come here,” he says and turns slightly to pat the space next to him, and hisses with pain. Before Lan Wangji can ask what’s wrong, Wei Ying raises a finger. ”Not a word. I deserve this for making you feel terrible. Now, come here.”

He climbs next to Wei Ying, gathers him close and grips his robe so tight he’s sure the fabric must rip a little, and pushes his nose into Wei Ying’s hair. He breathes Wei Ying in and in and in and tells him it’s alright, that Wei Ying is here with him, that everything is fine.

Brother and Meng Yao return later, bringing two trays to replace the ruined breakfast. Meng Yao sets the table while Brother sits and watches the Dire Owl perching on the bed frame.

”It doesn’t seem hostile,” Brother says mildly.

”It isn’t,” Wei Ying says. ”It is still made of resentful energy but there’s no trace of Wen Ruohan’s influence. I don’t understand.”

”Hm,” Brother says and tilts his head. ”But it came to you.”

”Yeah.”

”Could it become sentient on its own?” Meng Yao asks as he pours tea. Then he sits back, folds his hands on his lap, and smiles. It’s not the adoring, open smile reserved just for Brother (Lan Wangji has managed to spy a glimpse of it a couple of times and he can understand the stunned look on Brother’s face) but it’s still a genuine, warm smile, not the performative mask he so often wears.

”You mean…like a mass of resentment just happened to take that shape?” Wei Ying asks slowly. ”And then decide to come to me?”

”I’m not the resident expert on resentful energy,” Meng Yao says.

Wei Ying snorts and pushes himself to sit up and immediately freezes with a grimace. Brother’s pensive look turns into alarm and he twitches forward to help but restrains himself when Lan Wangji shakes his head slightly. 

”Where?” He asks, supporting Wei Ying.

”Back,” Wei Ying grits out. ”Or, well, the whole damn spine.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says and moves to sit behind him, then eases Wei Ying to lean against him and feeds a tiny amount of healing energy to him. He doesn’t do that much, mostly because Wen Qing still isn’t sure how Wei Ying’s body reacts to more of Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy and she wants to play safe.

”I don’t want to eat,” Wei Ying says when Meng Yao brings him a small bowl of congee. 

”I don’t remember asking,” Meng Yao says mildly and holds the bowl until Wei Ying takes it. ”You can’t drink your pain-relieving tea unless you eat something first.”

”Yes I can,” Wei Ying says. ”I have.”

Meng Yao cocks his head and smiles sweetly. ”And how has that been working for you so far?”

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. 

Meng Yao sighs and looks at Lan Wangji. ”The blend Wen Qing gives him is similar to the blend I’ve used. It’s efficient and absolutely terrible for your stomach if you drink it before eating.”

”Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks with a sinking feeling. When Wei Ying doesn’t reply but slowly eats his congee in silence, he has his confirmation. He makes a mental note to keep an eye on that, too

Brother clears his throat. ”We actually had a reason to see you,” he says.

”You’re leaving,” Lan Wangji says.

Brother nods. ”Mingjue will stay behind and supervise how the remaining Wen settle in with their supervisors. Jin Zixuan and Sect Leader Jiang will stay with him at least for a short while.” 

This makes sense. Jiang Yanli and Madam Jin—ah, Lan Wangji really should remember to call her Sect Leader Jin—had departed earlier, Jiang Yanli to Lotus Pier and Sect Leader Jin to Lanling. 

”We will head back to Gusu tomorrow and Huaisang will leave a couple of days later. A selected escort of Lan disciples will stay behind and return with you when it’s time.” Brother pauses. ”I’m leaving Lan Bolin in charge of the disciples. He’s strong, steadfast, and more than capable to take care of things here in my absence. And when Young Master Wei is well enough to travel, they will accompany you.” The Wherever you wish to go, is left unsaid but clearly heard.

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says.

”I’ve instructed him to consult you only if absolutely necessary.”

Lan Wangji inclines his head. ”Thank you.”

Meng Yao clears his throat delicately and Brother glances at him with a slight smile. ”Ah, yes. Wangji, could you step out with me for a moment?”

He could but he doesn’t want to. Without his consent, his body curves around Wei Ying and he only barely manages to swallow down a growl.

”Wangji,” Meng Yao says in that gentle voice of his. ”I’m not going to hurt him. If you absolutely want to stay here and listen, you can, but I’m not sure either of you would be comfortable with that.”

”Why?” Wei Ying asks slowly.

Meng Yao’s smile gets sweeter and it immediately makes Lan Wangji highly suspicious. ”Because, A-Xian, I’m going to talk about your body, your heats, and what it means to be intimate with your alpha after a massively traumatic experience.”

Wei Ying promptly chokes on his tea.

Meng Yao makes a face and wipes a splatter of tea from his chest. ”It will help with your pain better if you drink it instead of spitting it all over your lap,” he says dryly.

Lan Wangji does not want to be here for this conversation but he will stay if Wei Ying so wishes. Before he even asks, though, Wei Ying says in a faint voice, ”Yes, um, Lan Zhan, you can go.”

”Mn. Will be right outside,” Lan Wangji says, nuzzles Wei Ying’s neck, and then stands up and walks out. Brother follows.

”How are you feeling, Wangji?” Bother asks once he’s closed the door behind them. 

Someone has cleared the spilled breakfast out, leaving only a palm-sized stain behind. Lan Wangji stares at it for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. ”Scattered,” he finally says, feeling that’s also an inadequate word.

”Hm,” Brother says. He turns to look around, hands behind his back. ”A-Yao saw the Owl arrive. That’s why we were here in the first place. We noticed the door was wide open and then we saw the food on the ground and heard Chenqing…”

”Thank you,” Lan Wangji says after a beat.

”No need.” Brother’s smile is warm and understanding. ”I’m just glad you both are well.”

They fall silent for a moment and Lan Wangji glances back at the door, anxiety bubbling under his skin. He wants to be with Wei Ying but at the same time, he absolutely doesn’t want to be there. He has a feeling Meng Yao is going to be very thorough.

”They will be fine,” Brother says, amusement playing in the corner of his smile. 

”Mn.”

”Wangji, I will talk with Uncle,” Brother says. ”But if you don’t want to come home, I’ll understand.”

”Where else would we go?”

Brother shrugs. ”I’m quite sure Lotus Pier would welcome you.”

Lan Wangji turns to stare at him in abject horror. The mere thought of being intimate with Wei Ying in Lotus Pier, being in the same area with Jiang Wanyin…absolutely not.

”Don’t give me that look,” Brother says dryly. ”Privacy talismans exist, and you would have Maiden Jiang as company.” When all Lan Wangji does is to continue staring at him, he sighs. ”Look. I think everyone knows how you feel about each other but the fact also is that on Lotus Pier, you will get the full support of Wei Ying’s family. On the Cloud Recesses…”

Lan Wangji nods stiffly. He suspected as much. ”I can handle Uncle,” he says flatly. ”But I make no promises how.”

Brother inclines his head. ”I would expect nothing less,” he says.

They fall silent after that. It’s easier to breathe now, Lan Wangji thinks, having Brother and his support steadily beside him. It reminds him of easier, simpler times, when they used to just sit in each other’s company, sharing silence.

He would like to have that again, someday.

”The Owl will cause an uproar,” Brother says conversationally.

”What a shame.”

He’s sure he doesn’t imagine Brother’s slight smile.

When the door opens a good while later, they both rear slightly back at the thick scent of mortified embarrassment. Meng Yao stands in the doorway, calm and smiling, and Wei Ying sits on the bed, trying to cover his flaming red face with his hands.

”We’ll continue in Gusu, right, A-Xian?” Meng Yao says.

Wei Ying’s voice is muffled. ”I hate you,” he says. ”I’m never going to even look at you again.”

”Yes, of course,” Meng Yao says, amused, nods at Lan Wangji, and takes Brother’s hand. ”Shall we?”

Lan Wangji averts his eyes as Brother leans down to kiss his mate and then says, ”Travel safe.”

”We will,” Brother replies. 

Lan Wangji turns and returns to their room and to his furiously blushing mate.

The only word Lan Wangji could’ve used to describe his experience of preparing the Hanshi for Brother and his mate was ’painful’. While he was happy Brother had found himself a mate he clearly cared deeply about, Lan Wangji had hoped to someday prepare the Jingshi for himself and Wei Ying. 

But that would never happen because Wei Ying was—

He pushed it out of his mind.

The air still smelled like blood and ash but that would be easily taken care of with talismans. At least both his and Brother’s rooms were secluded so that even if all the blood couldn’t be washed away by the time Brother and Meng Yao arrived, they wouldn’t see it from the door.

Lan Wangji opened the windows and doors and then wiped the surfaces with a damp cloth before he washed the floors. He was distantly aware of bewildered disciples walking by and offering to help, appalled that Hanguang-jun was on his knees scrubbing the floors like a common servant. 

He ignored them all.

He changed the sheets and made the bed with the finest silks, left extra bedding neatly folded on the foot of the bed and Lan robes that would fit Meng Yao next to the pillow. (He resolutely didn’t think about how he’d compared Meng Yao’s frame to what he remembered of Wei Ying in his arms in the cave.) He stocked Brother’s tea selection and added sweets and Gusu specialties for Meng Yao to taste. He walked around the Hanshi and made sure the flowerbeds were in order, that the pathways were clear, that the porch was swept.

And then he made his way to the treasury.

There weren’t many things left from Mother. A robe she’d worn after Brother had been born. A hairpin. A fan, a set of brushes, a journal so heavily warded Uncle had never dared to destroy it. There was so little left that it was easy to believe she’d never existed at all. It probably made Uncle happy.

No one dared to question him as he opened the treasury doors. He didn’t ask or wait for permission from the Elders because he knew he wouldn’t get it. He simply walked in, made his unhurried way to the shelf where Mother’s things were stored, took the hairpin, and walked out.

…only to end up face to face with Uncle.

”Wangji,” Uncle said tightly.

Lan Wangji stood, silent, looking over Uncle’s shoulder.

Uncle narrowed his eyes as his gaze dropped to the hairpin in Lan Wangji’s hand and he drew a sharp breath. ”Wangji! What is the meaning of this?” He snapped, reaching out for the hairpin.

Wordlessly, Lan Wangji took a step to the side, evading Uncle’s hand, and tucked the hairpin into his sleeve.

”The disciples say you have been cleaning up the Hanshi—”

”Sect Leader Lan has found a mate,” Lan Wangji interrupted, ignoring the way the lingering disciples gasped at his rudeness. ”I have sent a word that Gusu has been reclaimed and they can come home. I have prepared the Hanshi for Sect Leader Lan and his mate.”

”I—what—how—” Uncle sputtered and then controlled himself with a visible effort. ”That hairpin—”

”Belongs to the mate of Sect Leader Lan,” Lan Wangji interrupted again. He still wasn’t looking at Uncle.

”Wangji!” Uncle snapped. ”Mind your place!”

The comment made Lan Wangji livid. He turned sharply to glare at Uncle and didn’t even bother pushing down the satisfaction he felt when Uncle’s eyes went wide and he took an involuntary step back.

”And what is my place, Uncle?” He asked in a low growl. ”I thought I minded my place: liberating my home for my sect leader and preparing him a safe place to bring his mate home. Tell me, how was that not my place? As a brother and my sect leader’s second?”

Uncle opened and closed his mouth several times before he hissed, ”Respect your Elders!”

The rage he’d cradled close since Wei Ying had been forced out reared up in an inferno, pouring out from his pores and through his eyes. The lingering disciples around them scampered back but Uncle stood frozen, staring at him with his face pallid with fear. ”Why should I respect Elders who are not respectable?” Lan Wangji asked coldly. ”How could I respect Elders who have shown blatant disregard of the most basic principles of Lan An himself? How could I, when all I see is contempt, pettiness, cruelty, and jealousy?” He gathered his rage back into himself, draped it around him like a familiar, well-worn robe, and turned his eyes away from Uncle again. ”Punish me for my impertinence if you want. I don’t care.”

A shocked, utter silence fell on the yard. 

Distantly, Lan Wangji wondered how outraged his past self would’ve been if he saw himself now. His former self who hadn’t met Wei Ying, who hadn’t fallen in lust and love, who hadn’t felt Wei Ying like he had. His former self who thought the rigidity of rules was all that mattered. His former self who didn’t know how it felt to feel.

He was suddenly tired to the bone. He didn’t want to be here, surrounded by memories of days long past from a time when he thought he knew everything and in fact understood nothing. He didn’t want to be here when Brother and Meng Yao came home, smelling of love and contentment. So, he decided he wouldn’t be.

Without bothering to say another word, he took his leave and walked to the Hanshi, and set the hairpin gently on the table next to the bed, knowing Brother would recognize its significance. After one, final look around, he stepped out and sealed the door with a talisman only Brother could open. He didn’t want anyone to disturb the preparations he’d made.

The Jingshi was silent and dusty, smelling of stale dreams and ash. He hadn’t bothered to make a space for himself because he’d known from the start he wouldn’t stay. 

He couldn’t stay. 

He changed his robes to simpler whites, packed a qiankun pouch with essentials, and told the guards he would be patrolling the borders for foreseeable future.

Gusu was free.

Brother was coming back.

The Cloud Recesses didn’t need Lan Wangji anymore.

As Wei Ying slowly gets better, his body starts to change. He turns from the emaciated, pale wraith into a human again. After the explosion, his skin has been a spiderweb of angry red lines, like he’s fine porcelain that cracked under too much heat. The lines fade gradually but they will never be completely gone. They’ll transform into a part of Wei Ying, just like the moles or the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. 

Lan Wangji loves all of them.

And as his body knits itself back together, so does his scent. Wei Ying’s base scent deepens and gains layers Lan Wangji would gladly try to decipher for hours each day. Most of the time, the pain is there but it almost feels like it has lessened. Perhaps it’s not as prominent as it was a week before? He would like nothing more than to believe that but because Wei Ying is Wei Ying, Lan Wangji finds himself suspicious.

Because the pain is still there. Some days, Wei Ying can move surprisingly well, take a bath and dress himself before taking his daily walk with Lan Wangji. And other days he wakes up with a small whimper and half of his body is locked in a cramp and he needs Lan Wangji for everything. It frustrates them both but for different reasons: Wei Ying wants to be independent but can’t, and Lan Wangji knows that as long as Wei Ying’s body is this unpredictable, they can’t go home.

”Why can’t we just take a carriage?” Wei Ying whines at Wen Qing one day. 

A sudden spasm on his back had taken his legs out and he’d folded on the ground with a gasp in the middle of their walk. Lan Wangji hadn’t quite caught him in time and silently berates himself for his momentary lapse as he carries Wei Ying to see Wen Qing. (The smell of blood puts him on edge and when Lan Bolin bows and asks if he may come by later, it takes all Lan Wangji’s control to not outright snarl. He apologizes later.)

”Well, you can if you insist,” Wen Qing says dryly as she gently cleans the bloody bruises on his knees. ”But that would mean weeks cooped up in a tight space, swaying and bumping uncontrollably, depending on the roads. What did you plan to do when you cramp up there? You won’t have the space to stretch out and you’d be stuck until you can move again.”

”I hate this,” Wei Ying says, covering his face with his arm. ”Why aren’t I better already? It’s been weeks. I’ve never been down like this before.”

”You also haven’t been blown up and put back together by someone else’s core before,” Wen Qing snaps and when Wei Ying flinches, she sighs, wipes her hands, and moves Wei Ying’s arm to see his eyes. ”You stupid, self-sacrificing idiot,” she says gently. ”You literally came back from the dead. Your body is working so hard for you, try to be gentle with it. Give it time. Be patient. I know it’s hard for you but you’re not alone.” She wipes Wei Ying’s cheek and shakes her head. ”You can give yourself that. You are allowed to mend.”

Wei Ying’s scent turns sad and disbelieving and Lan Wangji can’t make himself wait any longer. He takes Wei Ying’s other hand and leans down to press their foreheads together. ”Listen to Wen Qing. She’s right,” he whispers. ”Please.”

Wen Qing turns and starts cleaning up the bandages and bloody rags, giving them a moment of privacy. While she has her back on them, she says, ”I would like to do the full body meridian check now that you’re already here.”

Wei Ying lets out a disgusted sound but his eyes are nervous as he looks up at Lan Wangji. 

”I will stay if you want,” he says.

Wei Ying swallows and nods, and then says, ”Okay.”

Wen Qing nods, satisfied. ”This will take time,” she says as she makes sure Wei Ying is comfortable, and then she begins. She scans him superficially first to see if there’s anything major she needs to focus on and then she starts the slow, meticulous examination from head to toe.

Wei Ying would say it is boring because he has to to lie still and stay silent. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, uses the opportunity to sit next to him and just drink in the way Wei Ying’s body has filled up and his cheeks are rosy. He would like to stroke Wei Ying’s hair or hold his hand but can’t, obviously, because it would interfere with Wen Qing’s work. Instead, he leans close and hums, satisfied when the small frown on Wei Ying’s brow smoothes out and his lips draw into a tiny smile.

After the scanning and needles and palpating and everything else Wen Qing needed to do is done, she lets out a long breath. ”Well. That was both better and…” she purses her lips. ”Not as good as I hoped.” She waits as Lan Wangji helps Wei Ying to sit up. ”The good news: your meridians are fine. They’re still a bit shaky and on the mend but they are where they’re supposed to be and they work properly. Your core…” she shakes her head sharply. ”There’s something going on but I lack the proper resources to determine what. If possible, I would really like to return to Gusu with you to consult your healers.”

Lan Wangji had suspected as much from the moment Wen Qing turned down the position of the sect leader. He nods. ”Of course.”

”Wait, what do you mean by ’something going on’?” Wei Ying says.

”Exactly what I said.” Wen Qing pauses for a moment and frowns, gathering her thoughts. ”On principle, each golden core is unique. You can exchange and replenish spiritual energy via transfer or dual cultivation but cores stay the same. Your core—hasn’t. I don’t know if it’s because of the massive amount of resentful energy you had to siphon through you or because Lan Wangji poured all of him to bring you back. But is isn’t like it was before.”

Wei Ying lets out a frustrated noise. ”But what does it mean?”

”I simply don’t know. I have no frame of reference. All I can do is monitor you. But,” she pauses and raises a finger. ”You have a functioning golden core. It is healing you, it is helping you. That’s a good thing.”

”So…if that was the good news, what’s the bad?” Wei Ying asks.

”I never said bad, I said not as good as I hoped. There’s a difference,” Wen Qing says, glances at Lan Wangji, and then looks at Wei Ying again. ”How is your sex drive?”

”What?” Wei Ying yelps. ”Why—what—why would you ask that?”

”Because I’m your doctor,” she says. ”I repeat: how is your sex drive? I know you share a bed and usually that leads to mutual arousal. Your situation, though?” She shrugs. ”Unusual doesn’t even start to cover it.”

Lan Wangji tilts his head and thinks back. After they confessed their feelings, they’d shared heated kisses and touches that make his ears blush and they’d both been definitely aroused. But it hadn’t been like that since. Kissing, yes, but arousal? ”Not after the beginning,” he says slowly.

”Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying hisses.

”No need to be embarrassed,” Wen Qing says. ”I know Meng Yao already had a chat with you. He came to see me before coming to you, just to make sure what would and would not be allowed. I’m not going to go into details for all of our sakes,” she says to Lan Wangji, ”but the main issue is this: As long as Wei Ying is this fragile and the exact nature of his core is explored more, proper dual cultivation is out of the question. There is a chance that you would…burn out his core or that he would get other adverse effects from the amount of both spiritual energy and your essence that would pour into him.

”In addition to that, the physical damage Wei Ying’s been through sets certain limitations. You can’t mount him from behind because that would put too much pressure on his arms, legs, and spine. You can’t take him when he’s on his back because that could trigger a massive spasm and lock up his spine. Having him on your lap is fine or when you’re spooning him because you can support him and help him to stay stable.”

Lan Wangji is sure he’s never felt this embarrassed in his life but at the same time, he’s fervently grateful for Wen Qing for her bluntness. He doesn’t know what to say so he nods.

”Now. Have you gotten wet since you woke up?”

Wei Ying stares at her. ”You can’t—you can’t ask me things like that!”

”Why not?” She waits for a moment and pinches her lips together in a tight line when Wei Ying stays silent. ”I interpret that as a no. That’s what I thought. Wei Ying, your body is still trying to piece itself back together and that covers your reproductive organs—including the glands that produce slick. If you haven’t gotten wet, it’s fine. Just…try not to push yourself too hard. You can be intimate with each other in other ways and I know you have. That’s a good thing. A loving alpha will help you to heal.”

Wei Ying looks down and swallows. Lan Wangji squeezes his hand and smiles when he glances up.

”Besides. If you don’t give yourself time to heal, you risk your future heats. And while the whole cultivation world knows how Hanguang-jun feels about you and would rather let the world burn than ever let you go, a consensual, natural mating heat that ends in a bonding is undeniably beneficial for both partners.” She pauses and quirks a brow. ”So don’t fuck it up.”

Wei Ying snorts and wipes his eyes. ”You’re a terrible doctor. I want a refund,” he says wetly.

She smiles. ”You’re a charity case, no return policy. Now, get out of my office. I never want to have this conversation again.”

Wei Ying blows a raspberry at her and then curls against Lan Wangji’s chest as he picks his mate into his arms and heads back to their room.

After Brother brought his mate home, Lan Wangji mostly stayed out of the Cloud Recesses. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Brother’s happiness but it felt too raw after what he’d just been through. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself around Meng Yao. What little they’d interacted in his small house, he was a kind man but he was a freshly mated omega and Lan Wangji was afraid he would lose control of his grief.

There was no need to burden Brother with heartache in the middle of his happiness. So, Lan Wangji gave them space. He concentrated on patrolling the Gusu borders, lost himself on night-hunts and helping out wherever help was needed. It eased the constant pain and the feeling of despair that threatened to swallow him whole. He drank only when necessary and ate even less, counting on his golden core to keep him going. He knew Uncle didn’t approve but since he’d lost all interest in what Uncle might think, it didn’t matter. The opinions of the remaining Elders mattered even less.

He often thought his existence after Wei Ying died was cursed: grieving a mate he had never had the chance to love properly, yearning for someone he’d kissed once and held in his arms for only a fleeting moment. He was a widow no one recognized as such.

Brother came looking for him sometimes, bringing food he didn’t eat and tea that grew cold. He smelled of happiness and it made Lan Wangji grit his teeth with bitter envy. He didn’t need to look Brother in the eye to know his eyes were filled with pity and love.

And then he learned Wei Ying wasn’t dead.

He learned Wei Ying was well and alive.

He learned Wei Ying carried Wen Ruohan’s jewelry and practiced demonic cultivation.

He learned Wei Ying didn’t want his touch.

He wished he could turn back time and return to the safety of his grief, to his white mourning robes and the memory of Wei Ying’s scent. Because then he’d known who he was, he’d known where his foundation was set and how it would hold. Now, he was scattered, adrift without an anchor, and he didn’t know where to look for guidance. He couldn’t think about what Wei Ying would do or say because the Wei Ying of his memories no longer existed. He couldn’t fall back to the stolen moments of bliss because all he could see was the way Wei Ying’s eyes flashed red and the black tendrils of resentful energy danced around him.

He lost himself and fled.

When he finally clawed his way back to sanity (or perhaps sanity forced its way into him without his consent), he was kneeling on sharp rocks, shaking and delirious with exhaustion and nausea. His robes were torn and bloody and his hands resembled two big, sluggishly bleeding wounds, and when he half-heartedly reached for his core, all he found was emptiness.

And he felt…nothing.

”Wangji,” he heard someone whisper next to him. Turning his head took an eon but when he finally managed, he saw Brother kneeling close, eyes wide and imploring. His cheeks were wet. ”Wangji, please. Come back. Don’t leave.”

Slowly, he let his head loll as he turned to look around himself, and for a while, he didn’t understand what he saw. There was a wall of rock with words in it and large chunks had been destroyed, leaving behind a pile of crudely chopped boulders. The ones closest to him were covered in blood.

”Wangji,” Brother pleaded again, closer this time. ”Please, let go. Rest.”

He wanted to say there was nothing left to let go of. 

He wanted so many things. 

Had wanted. 

Still wanted? 

He didn’t know.

•••

He woke up in his own bed, tired and aching, but not alone. He forced his eyes open to see Uncle holding his wrist and feeding him spiritual energy and acted purely on instinct, yanking his hand from Uncle’s hold and turning away.

”Wangji,” Uncle said. His voice was hoarse and low and he didn’t sound like himself. He was silent for a long moment and then let out a long sigh, stood up, and left the Jingshi.

Lan Wangji felt nothing.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, distantly aware of people in the room, cleaning the bandages in his hands and legs, and feeding him spiritual energy. He wasn’t sure why they bothered but he was too tired to order them to leave him alone, so he said nothing and let them move him like a living doll.

And then, one day, Brother’s mate visited.

”We don’t have time for this,” Meng Yao said. ”You need to stop.”

Lan Wangji frowned and against his better judgment, turned to look at Meng Yao. Wearing Lan robes and Mother’s hairpin, he looked every bit the respectable Lan-furen he was. But his eyes were sharp, intent, demanding. 

”Why?” Lan Wangji asked and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Meng Yao leaned forward. ”Are you absolutely sure you know what has happened? How tragic would it be if you died and then we would learn that you were needed after all?”

Lan Wangji sat up so quickly his head spun and grabbed a hold on the lapel of Meng Yao’s robe. ”What do you mean by that?” He growled. ”What do you know?”

Meng Yao looked down at where Lan Wangji’s mangled hand gripped the robe so tightly it was shaking and then slowly, raised his gaze to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes. ”Take. Your. Hand. Off. Me,” he said in a low, measured tone.

Lan Wangji frowned and then reeled back when he realized what he’d done. Grabbing an omega like that was highly inappropriate, grabbing Brother’s mate was unforgivable, especially considering what little he knew of Meng Yao’s past. Deeply, heart-sickeningly ashamed of himself, he backed as far as he could and said, ”My deepest apologies, Lan-furen. I will accept any punishment you see fit.”

”You Lans and your self-flagellation,” Meng Yao muttered. ”No punishment needed; your reaction, while uncouth, is understandable.” He took a moment to better arrange his sleeves and then looked up. ”I cannot claim that I know what’s happening in Nightless City. I only ask you to consider and contemplate. What if things aren’t how they seem?” He cocked his head and gave him that gentle smile he so often wore when he was projecting a certain image. 

What was Meng Yao telling him?

What wasn’t he telling?

”The clans have refused Wen Ruohan’s proposition. Madam Jin has replaced the late Jin Guangshan as Sect Leader Jin. We are at war.” He stood up. ”You are needed, Hanguang-jun, but the decision to be where you are needed is your own.”

A younger Lan Wangji would’ve liked to pretend it took him a long time to contemplate his options but the truth was simple: if there was even the slightest possibility to help Wei Ying, he would do it. 

And later, in Nightless City, as he watched the Yin Tiger Tally tear Wei Ying into shreds, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Because now, he had to save Wei Ying.

Whatever the cost.

Two days after the talk with Wen Qing, Lan Wangji wakes up hard. It’s not the first time it has happened but so far he’s managed to will it away before Wei Ying wakes up. 

This time, though, Wei Ying is already awake.

”Don’t,” he says when Lan Wangji tries to move back.

”Wei Ying—” he starts but stops when he isn’t sure what to say. It’s not that he doesn’t want—because he does, gods, he does—it’s just that he doesn’t want to hurt his mate.

”Meng Yao said,” Wei Ying says, ”um, he said that you could fuck my thighs?” He smells of embarrassment but also something else, hope? Excitement? It’s muddled up and Lan Wangji’s rapidly deepening arousal doesn’t actually help with figuring it out.

”How—tell me,” he says, voice suddenly hoarse.

”On your side of the bed, there’s a bottle tucked under the mattress,” Wei Ying says in almost a whisper. ”You, um, pull your pants down—and mine also, eh,—and, um, slick yourself and then,” he swallows. ”Then you push your cock in between my thighs and, um, go from there.”

Lan Wangji has to rest his forehead on Wei Ying’s shoulder as the way his mate says cock makes him want to growl. He takes a couple of steadying breaths and then turns to grope for the bottle. It’s not very big but when he opens the stopper and some of the substance spills out, it’s very, very slippery. He pours a good amount on his palm and coats his cock with a shaking hand and then fumbles to lower Wei Ying’s pants.

Wei Ying smells slightly nervous and his breath hitches as Lan Wangji starts pushing into the warm, tight heat between thighs. It feels incredible, overwhelming, and his instincts scream at him to bite and claim and hold Wei Ying down and crawl inside his skin—to press himself so deeply into his omega that it would be impossible to separate them. And yet, at the same time, he’s painfully aware of how fragile the man in his arms is, brittle like spun glass that could shatter if he isn’t careful.

”Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks. ”Hey, Lan Zhan, it’s okay—you can move. Just, wait, um, hold on…” Wei Ying wiggles slightly (and Lan Wangji grits his teeth and forces himself to stay still) so that Lan Wangji’s arms are around him and he’s pressed snuggly against Lan Wangji’s chest. He arranges one arm under the pillow and reaches back with his free hand to grip Lan Wangji’s hip. 

The touch on his bare skin makes Lan Wangji shiver.

”Okay, alpha,” Wei Ying murmurs and tilts his head slightly to expose his neck. ”Take me.”

Lan Wangji draws in a sharp breath and clenches his arms so that Wei Ying is properly immobilized (trapped, his mind purrs) and thrusts. The slick heat feels divine and he thrusts again, picking up the pace as he rapidly loses control. It takes an embarrassingly short time for his hips to stutter and his knot to swell and then he comes with a whine, trembling all over. He feels his spend add to the wetness in the space between Wei Ying’s thighs and the mere thought rushes blood to his cheeks. He wants to turn Wei Ying to his back and spread his legs, watch his spend stain the spiderweb scars like a claim. He wants to spill all over Wei Ying and push away the faint marks of the time when Wei Ying was torn apart, only leaving his essence as a shield over him.

Wei Ying interrupts his thoughts with a soft, ”Was it okay?”

Was it—Was it okay? Is Wei Ying serious? 

Lan Wangji pushes himself up a bit to give Wei Ying an incredulous, affronted look, enjoying the way his genuinely worried scent turns into embarrassed and then pleased. And then Wei Ying narrows his eyes, lets out a curious hum, and reaches down. As Lan Wangji looks on, he dips his fingers into his crotch, brings his hand up, looks at the pearly white spend coating his fingers.

And then he brings his fingers to his mouth.

Lan Wangji’s hands spasm and he growls at the sight, growing hard again even though his knot hasn’t come down yet. He clutches Wei Ying even closer, buries his face into his neck, and ruts wildly into that welcoming, wet warmth, and latches his teeth on the meat of Wei Ying’s shoulder and fucks into him like he’s dreamt for countless times. Wei Ying lets out a breathy sound and tilts his head a bit more, offering himself for Lan Wangji’s mouth and he bites down as he comes, ridiculously proud of the red mark his teeth leave behind.

He takes Wei Ying three times before he falls asleep, exhausted and sated, and then twice more when he wakes some time later. He tries to hold back but Wei Ying tempts him right back to the haze of lust just by tilting his throat or licking Lan Wangji’s spend from his fingers. He’s shameless and Lan Wangji is feral for it. Wei Ying grips his hip and whispers encouragements, not in the slightest fazed by how Lan Wangji’s hold is tight to the point of bruising or how his teeth mark him up. 

During the fourth time, Lan Wangji hesitantly reaches for Wei Ying’s cock and asks, ”May I?”

”I’m not—” Wei Ying says. ”You don’t have to.”

”Would like to. If Wei Ying allows.”

Wei Ying swallows and says, ”Yeah, sure,” and then gasps as Lan Wangji cups his cock. He’s soft and fits into Lan Wangji’s hand perfectly, and when he starts to move again, he holds Wei Ying through it. It doesn’t feel strange to him that he holds on too tight and yet cradles Wei Ying’s soft cock in his hand. It feels…right. And when he comes, he keeps his hand where it is, almost absent-mindedly petting the hair at the base of Wei Ying’s cock.

When he’s finally done—when he thinks he can let go of his mate for a moment—their bed is a wonderful mess and Wei Ying’s stomach and thighs are slick with sweat and spend. 

Wei Ying lets out a disgusted noise. ”Our bed is in a terrible state,” he laments. ”I’ve created a monster.” 

Lan Wangji turns sharply to apologize—he tried to be careful but—did something go wrong— 

…oh. 

Wei Ying looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and a pleased smile playing on his lips, and under the thick scent of sex and satisfaction, he smells deeply happy.

•••

Their activities require, of course, a proper bath. Lan Wangji wipes most of the mess away and then wraps Wei Ying into his own robe and then into a sheet for a good measure. He knows it’s considered undignified to go out smelling so strongly of what they just did but a not-so-subtle part of his mind is ridiculously proud to parade his mate where everyone can smell exactly what they’ve done. 

He doesn’t really bother trying to squish that part silent.

They head to the small bathroom that’s been theirs since the first time Jiang Yanli arranged Wei Ying’s bath, and by now everyone knows it’s out of limits for anyone else. That bath belongs to Hanguang-jun’s mate alone and is meticulously prepared every morning ready for them to use with clean towels and soaps and hair oils most likely provided by either Nie Huaisang or Meng Yao.

As Lan Wangji turns the corner with Wei Ying in his arms, they nearly collide with Jiang Wanyin. He gives them a stiff nod, moves aside, and then—

”What the fuck?” He snarls and his nostrils flare. ”Lan Wangji, I thought you said you treat my brother with the utmost respect and now you have bedded him anyway?” His eyes jump to the visible bite marks on Wei Ying’s throat and Zidian crackles.

Lan Wangji stiffens. He wants to shield Wei Ying but he doesn’t want to turn his back to another alpha, and walking away might not solve anything. Before he has the chance to react, though, Wei Ying cackles.

”Oh, he treated me very respectfully indeed,” Wei Ying croons. ”He respectfully fucked my thighs for…how many times? Seven? Twelve? I lost count. Anyway. And he respectfully mauled me. I feel respectfully used indeed.”

Jiang Wanyin turns bright red. ”You—you—” He sputters.

Wei Ying leans his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and nuzzles his throat. ”Me? Yes?”

”I hate you,” Jiang Wanyin says, disgusted.

”Aiyah, you’re just frustrated,” Wei Ying says airily. ”Have you considered bedding anyone? I’ve seen how Sect Leader Nie’s eyes follow you, Chengcheng. You should give it a try, he could be a real beast in bed.”

”WEI WUXIAN!” Jiang Wanyin yells as a vein bulges on his forehead.

Wei Ying grins. ”Hey, if you need info on alpha-alpha sex, you should’ve asked Meng Yao before he left. He has all sorts of good tips and references and also several different kinds of lubricants to ease the—wait, where are you going?”

Jiang Wanyin storms away, slashing Zidian at the perfectly innocent column that succumbs under the sect leader’s temper.

And then Wei Ying giggles.

Lan Wangji’s attention snaps to his mate in his arms. 

”Ohh, that was hilarious!” Wei Ying breathes out and wipes his eyes. ”Lan Zhan, did you see his face? I thought Jiang Cheng would Qi-deviate for sure—”

The words don’t mean much, washing over him in a comforting, familiar wave. Instead, Lan Wangji is mesmerized by the dizzyingly happy scent that pours out of Wei Ying, making Lan Wangji almost lightheaded. The last time he saw Wei Ying this unabashedly giddy must have been…in the Cloud Recesses what feels like a lifetime ago.

”—Zhan?”

”Hm?”

Wei Ying gives him a quizzical look. ”Your face got all funny. What’s going on in your head right now?”

Helpless to do anything else, Lan Wangji kisses him. ”Wei Ying,” he says and continues to the bathrooms, a blushing mate in his arms.

”WEI WUXIAN!”

Jiang Wanyin’s voice rang out too loud and harsh in the quiet of the Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji frowned as he turned around to look at what the Yunmeng disciples were up to now. So far, their presence had been a nuisance at the least and a massive disturbance a the most. They were loud and obnoxious and captivating and grated against every nerve in Lan Wangji’s body.

Or at least Wei Ying did.

He wasn’t sure when he’d started calling the Jiang Head Disciple by his given name in the privacy of his own mind. On the second week? Or the second day? He admonished himself and reminded himself it didn’t matter. Wei Ying or Wei Wuxian, the omega was a disturbance and endangered the whole lecture. He probably should tell Uncle about it.

Or perhaps he should wait and see. Maybe Wei Ying would settle down.

He regretted that thought a moment later when said omega ran past, a wide grin on his face and a peal of cackling laughter trailing behind him. ”Hi, Lan Zhan!” He exclaimed and then yelped as Jiang Wanyin barrelled after him with clearly murderous intent. Before Lan Wangji had the chance to wonder if he should interfere (other than reminding that running was prohibited), they’d already turned around the corner, vanishing behind the dorms and leaving Lan Wangji and his frown behind.

”Wangji?” 

Brother’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he glanced to the side. Brother looked older and more adult nowadays, his robes and headpiece adding to the sect leader image he was building. It suited him. 

”Were those Young Masters Wei and Jiang?”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

”They’re quite lively,” Brother commented.

”Loud. Rude.” He narrowed his eyes and added, ”Shameless.”

Brother didn’t say anything but a small, amused smile tugged at his lips.

Lan Wangji’s frown turned into a scowl which only made Brother’s smile grow. Lan Wangji turned away from him and saw Maiden Jiang approaching them at a slightly hurried pace.

”Zewu-jun, Second Young Master Lan,” she said with a polite smile and bowed. ”I wonder, has either of you seen my brothers?”

Brother opened his mouth to reply but at the same time, they heard a blood-curdling scream from the direction of the waterfalls.

”Ah,” Maiden Jiang said, her polite smile turning slightly forced. ”I better be going.”

”Maiden Jiang,” Brother said, stopping her bow. ”Is there something we should know? Do you need assistance?”

Maiden Jiang ducked her head. ”That won’t be necessary. I know this must sound serious to you but it’s nothing you need to worry about.” She bit her lip and then admitted, slightly embarrassed, ”A-Xian managed to construct an itching talisman.”

”Oh,” Brother said and the amused smile was fully visible now. ”Well, we better let you be on your way, Maiden Jiang. Let us know if there’s anything we can help you with.”

”Thank you, Zewu-jun, Second Young Master Lan.” She bowed and hurried off.

”An itching talisman,” Brother chuckled. 

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said, narrowing his eyes at the path Maiden Jiang had taken. He ignored Brother’s knowing look and merely nodded as Brother took his leave.

Some while later, as he was returning to Jingshi, he saw the Yunmeng siblings walking together. Jiang Wanyin looked as angry as he always did and Wei Ying looked almost sheepish. Maiden Jiang was walking in between them, scolding Wei Ying with fond exasperation. Both young men wore sopping wet robes.

It was a strange dynamic, he mused. Jiang Wanyin seemed to react to everything with aggression and Wei Ying had turned needling people into an art form. They antagonized each other but Lan Wangji had also seen them jump to each other’s defense without a second thought. And next to them, always, was Maiden Jiang, smoothing Jiang Wanyin’s aggression and curbing Wei Ying’s overflowing enthusiasm.

Not for the first time, he wondered how one place could produce three so different heirs as the Yunmeng siblings were. Lan Wangji couldn’t help but compare them to Brother and himself. They weren’t called the Twin Jades just for their status and appearance, but also for their manners. Lan Wangji couldn’t even imagine poking and shoving Brother like Wei Ying did, let alone yelling at him like Jiang Wanyin. And practical pranks like itching talismans? Absolutely not.

He would often return to these thoughts later when his disastrous, violent rut was finally over. When Wei Ying was expelled and the Cloud Recesses returned to its normal, quiet, serene self. When Lan Wangji’s head no longer snapped up when someone laughed. When everything seemed dull and tedious.

When Maiden Jiang’s smiles turned small and fragile and Jiang Wanyin wore his foul mood like a shield. When Young Master Nie's shoulders were slumped and the lessons were completely silent apart from Uncle’s voice.

When there were no impromptu visits to Caiyi town.

When no one tried to sneak around after curfew.

That was when Lan Wangji realized how utterly empty his life was without Wei Ying.

In the end, they compromise with the schedule of their departure. Wen Qing would’ve preferred that they stay put for longer but they all agree that staying in Nightless City isn’t good for Wei Ying. He has nightmares almost every night and even though they grow less graphic and take a more abstract turn, they still carry the vague sense of doom that makes Wei Ying anxious. On top of that, Lan Wangji is on the edge being on a foreign territory instead of in his own home. And, of course, Wei Ying is growing increasingly more bored which is never a good thing.

Lan Wangji suggests Lotus Pier even though it isn’t his first choice but Wei Ying, surprisingly, insists on Gusu.

”It’s your home,” he says on their daily walk. He’s slowly gained his strength back but the sudden flashes of pain still occur, rendering him unable to stand, let alone walk without help.

”Home is where Wei Ying is,” Lan Wangji says evenly.

”Lan Zhaaan,” Wei Ying whines. ”You can’t say things like that!”

He turns slightly and indulges in Wei Ying’s blush for a moment. It still boggles his mind how someone as loud and shameless as Wei Ying can be reduced into a blushing, sweet-smelling omega just with a couple of loving, honest words and a tender touch. (It is, of course, exactly the reason Lan Wangji does it.)

”Don’t look at me like that,” Wei Ying mumbles and ducks his head.

Lan Wangji cocks his head. ”Like what?”

”Like…like…that!”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says. ”I watched Wei Ying die. Twice.”

”You can’t use that as an excuse forever,” Wei Ying says quietly.

”Not an excuse,” he counters. ”Explanation.” He tries to come up with words to describe just what Wei Ying means to him and he can’t. Wei Ying is home, and love, and safety, and life, all of that and so much more. Sometimes his lack of words is infinitely frustrating. How can he say things he doesn’t know the names for? It’s like he tried to describe the sense of the sky or the taste of the wind or the sheer vastness of the sea to a dragonfly who has no concept for any of those things.

It’s impossible.

So, he does what he always does when his words fail him: he acts.

”Lan Zhan—what are you doing?” Wei Ying sputters, eyes going wide with shock. ”We’re in public!”

Lan Wangji knows that and he doesn’t care. He stands in front of Wei Ying and slowly removes his forehead ribbon, ignoring the familiar shiver that runs through him as the spell embedded into it lifts. He steps forward and gathers Wei Ying close, presses his nose on Wei Ying’s neck, and gently guides his nose against his. ”Explanation,” he repeats in a whisper and lets his scent bloom fully.

He’s never removed his forehead ribbon in public but it’s for Wei Ying. Besides, they’re in the secluded garden. They’re usually in bed when Lan Wangji takes off his ribbon so that Wei Ying can fall asleep with Lan Wangji’s unmuted scent surrounding him. But he hasn’t done this, thought about everything Wei Ying means to him and letting it all out through his scent since the day they confessed.

Perhaps I should do this more often, he thinks as Wei Ying lets out a soft sound and goes boneless against him. Wei Ying’s scent reaches out for him and intertwines with his, wonder and disbelief mixed with pure, unadulterated joy. They compliment each other so well that after a moment, it’s nigh impossible to distinguish which scent belongs to which.

He loses the sense of how long they stand there embracing each other. He’s shaken out of the bliss when Wei Ying shifts and hisses and berates himself for not realizing how uncomfortable this would eventually be for Wei Ying. 

And then Wei Ying pokes him to the side.

”Don’t blame yourself,” he says when Lan Wangji lifts his head, confused. ”Yeah, you’re not wearing your forehead ribbon, I can smell you’re scolding yourself for standing here for too long.” He tilts his head and cups Lan Wangji’s cheek. ”Silly alpha, you can’t defeat my pains no matter how hard you try.”

Who says I can’t? He thinks to himself as he ties his ribbon back to its proper place. ”Are you sure you want to go to Gusu?” He asks.

Wei Ying makes a face. ”Want? Yes and no. No one there likes me except for you, Xichen, and Meng Yao. But it’s your home and, as Wen Qing said, you have the most extensive collection of medical texts and your doctors are skilled.” When Lan Wangji frowns to argue, Wei Ying raises a finger to stop him. ”And…I think I need to go there.”

”Why?”

Wei Ying bites his lip. ”I don’t know,” he says slowly. ”I have a feeling it has something to do with your mother.”

That gives Lan Wangji a pause. He’s not sure why he is surprised because he really shouldn’t be—it fits way too well. ”Meng Yao?” He asks and then adds, slowly, ”and Nie Huaisang.”

Wei Ying blinks and nods.

”Mn.” 

He picks Wei Ying up and heads out of the garden, surprised to see a Lan disciple standing at the gate. He has his back to the garden and, as he hears them approaching, he squares his shoulders and turns to face them.

”Hanguang-jun, Young Master Wei,” Lan Bolin says and bows. ”I wanted to let you know that preparations are done and we’re ready to depart when it suits you.” He glances slightly to the side and adds, ”Sect Leader Jiang came looking for you earlier but I told him I’d pass on his message. He wishes to speak with you before you leave, Young Master Wei.”

”Thank you,” Lan Wangji says, thanking him both for the message and keeping Jiang Wanyin from entering the garden when Lan Wangji wasn’t wearing his forehead ribbon.

”He probably wants to yell at me for not going to Lotus Pier,” Wei Ying sighs.

”Mn.”

Wei Ying gives him an unreadable look. ”Would you let me talk to him alone?”

Lan Wangji grits his teeth. ”If Wei Ying so wishes. He’s Wei Ying’s brother.”

”But you wouldn’t like it, would you?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head.

A couple of steps away, Lan Bolin shifts his weight from one foot to the other, having developed a sudden fascination with the vine creeping up the garden wall. He tries very, very hard to be as far away from them as possible without actually moving away.

”What if…what if you take me to him now. You can wait outside while we talk and if it takes too long or I get too annoyed, I’ll tell that I’m tired and I have to rest.”

Lan Wangji gives him an unimpressed look. ”You are tired.”

”Pfft, you know what I mean,” Wei Ying says and grins before leaning slightly to the side and calling out for Lan Bolin. ”Okay! Um, I’m sorry but I’m terrible with names, what was it again, Young Master Lan?” 

Lan Bolin jerks around, startled at being addressed as Young Master by Hanguang-jun’s mate. ”Um, this one is Lan Bolin, Young Master Wei,” he says and bows, eyes widening when he meeting the full force of Wei Ying’s dazzling smile.

”Okay, so, Lan Bolin, did Jiang Cheng say where he’d be now?”

”Jiang Ch—Sect Leader Jiang said he’d be in his quarters, Young Master Wei,” Lan Bolin says, still a bit dazed.

”Great! Thank you!”

”You shouldn’t do that,” Lan Wangji says quietly as they’re on their way to Jiang Wanyin’s quarters. 

”Do what? Smile?” When Lan Wangji doesn’t reply, Wei Ying cups his cheek and turns his head so that Lan Wangji has to meet his eyes. ”Lan Zhan,” he says seriously. ”If you really don’t want me to smile at people, I can try. But you must know by now that…that’s what I do. I talk a lot, I tease, I poke, I smile at people. But none of that matters! You know why?”

Wei Ying pauses and stays silent which means he actually wants an answer. ”Why?” Lan Wangji asks, slightly reluctant.

Wei Ying’s eyes dart around his face. ”Silly alpha,” he murmurs with a tender smile. ”Of course they don’t matter. They’re not you.”

To be honest, Lan Wangji would rather take him straight back to bed than to see Jiang Wanyin but since Wei Ying wants to talk to his brother, Lan Wangji will do as Wei Ying asks. He refuses to take Wei Ying into Jiang Wanyin’s rooms, though—the small pavilion close to Jiang Wanyin’s rooms will suffice just fine. Wei Ying agrees and only rolls his eyes once. 

He sets Wei Ying on the bench, makes sure he’s comfortable, and then makes his way to knock on Jiang Wanyin’s door. When the door opens, he says without a preamble, ”Wei Ying will speak with you now,” and then turns to walk back to Wei Ying, Jiang Wanyin’s muttered curses in his ears. He waits until Jiang Wanyin enters the pavilion before he nods, walks a short distance away, sits down, and takes out his guqin. 

After a couple of notes, a shadow lands close to him and he raises his head to see the Dire Owl. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Lan Wangji returns his focus on his playing and the Dire Owl turns to stare at the brothers in the pavilion.

The Dire Owl stays until Wei Ying yells at Lan Wangji to come and get his frail omega and then takes to the sky, vanishing down the mountain.

The first (and only) time Jiang Wanyin attempted to walk in after Maiden Jiang, Lan Wangji reacted purely on instinct. He turned in a flash to hover over Wei Ying’s unconscious body and growled with barely restrained aggression, daring the other alpha to enter at his own risk. Jiang Wanyin froze by the door and his eyes flashed, recognizing the challenge. Before he started growling back, though, Maiden Jiang interfered and stepped in front of Jiang Wanyin.

”A-Cheng,” she said calmly as she kept her eyes averted and her head turned slightly to address his brother. ”I believe it would be best if you backed out, slowly.”

”A-jie—”

”A-Cheng, please. I’ve only now gotten one brother back. Don’t make me lose the other instead.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was Lan Wangji’s low growl and then, slowly, Jiang Wanyin backed away from the doorway. Lan Wangji didn’t stop growling until the door was closed but he stayed poised over Wei Ying, ready for—well, anything.

”Hanguang-jun, may I approach?” Maiden Jiang asked. She was calm, waiting with a serene smile and her trusty basket in her hands. On one level, Lan Wangji was mortified but on another, more primal level, he knew what he’d done was right. He drew back and gritted his jaw, turned his gaze, and wrestled his instincts back under control.

”My apologies,” he finally said quietly. ”Would you prefer I leave the room?” He absolutely didn’t want to but he’d growled at Maiden Jiang too, she’d been right in front of Jiang Wanyin and she’d done nothing to deserve that—

”Why?” Maiden Jiang asked, gently amused. ”Young Master Lan, I’m the daughter of the Violet Spider. Jiang Cheng is my little brother. I’ve encountered my share of displays of aggression.” Unhurried, she set the table for Lan Wangji before turning once more to face the bed. ”If I may be so bold, I know your feelings for A-Xian run deep. You’ve waited for him for so long, only to see him face a terrible end. It’s only natural that you are protective.”

Lan Wangji worked his jaw for a moment, trying to come up with words that would adequately convey the deep gratitude he felt for everything Maiden Jiang had done for Wei Ying—and for Lan Wangji, too. In the end, he only managed a halting, ”Thank you,” but he had a feeling Maiden Jiang knew what he meant anyway.

They went through their now-familiar routine: Lan Wangji sat to eat while Maiden Jiang gave Wei Ying his daily bath. When Lan Wangji was ready and Maiden Jiang was combing Wei Ying’s hair, she said, quietly, ”He does care, you know?”

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure what to say so he said nothing.

”A-Cheng is…” she started and sighed, pausing for a moment as she frowned at Wei Ying’s prone form, clearly considering her words. ”He’s very much like our mother. He wears his anger like a shield and channels his thoughts and actions through his fury, and it’s very easy to confuse that as all that he is.”

Lan Wangji raised a brow.

Maiden Jiang smiled. ”I know. I’m his big sister, of course I would think the best of him. But in his own way, he does care.”

Lan Wangji thought for a moment, considered letting it go. But he couldn’t because— ”He attacked Wei Ying. He set dogs on him.”

Maiden Jiang shakes her head. ”He told me,” she said with a sad smile. ”He was so angry, first at A-Xian and then at me.” Maiden Jiang ran the comb one last time through Wei Ying’s hair and then set her hands on her lap and looked up. Her gaze was serious and tired in a way Lan Wangji hadn’t seen before.

”I presume Sect Leader Lan has told you how Jin Guangshan died?” 

Lan Wangji nodded slowly, unsure of what former Sect Leader Jin had to do with anything.

”You might not know that I knew what Madam Jin was planning. And I didn’t tell A-Cheng.” She pressed her hands together for a moment, collecting her thoughts. ”A-Cheng grew up believing that A-Xian would always be by his side. None of us knew about Mother’s plans, not for A-Xian or…whatever else she might’ve been planning. So, to A-Cheng it looked like he’d lost everything, and then the brother he’d always trusted to be there for him turned his back and walked away—and resurfaced as the high-ranking envoy of the very sect that decimated Yunmeng Jiang and killed our parents. A-Cheng was waiting for him to come back but A-Xian decided to abandon him instead.”

”He did not!” Lan Wangji said, annoyed.

”I know that. And A-Cheng knows that. But back then, that’s how it looked like.” She turned to drape a soft blanket over Wei Ying and then walked to sit at the table, opposite Lan Wangji. He poured her tea and she thanked him with a smile.

”A-Cheng has always loved dogs and it grated him for years that he had to give his beloved pets away when A-Xian became a part of our lives. Did you know A-Xian is terrified of dogs?”

Lan Wangji nodded, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

”He used to live on the streets before Father found him. A child sharing space with dogs and fighting for the same scraps of food…” She paused and took a sip of tea. ”I’m sure you can imagine how his life must have been.”

Lan Wangji’s mind flashed to the pale scars in Wei Ying’s legs and on his lap, his hand clenched to a fist.

”A-Cheng resented the fact that he had to give his dogs away but he never let any dog near A-Xian after that. Two days after A-Xian walked away from us, A-Cheng came home with two white puppies and he hasn’t gone anywhere without them since. Until after Lanling.”

Maiden Jiang shook her head and sighed. ”I know my brother is neither easy nor nice. He has many, many flaws and a sharp tongue that rivals Mother’s and he isn’t afraid to use it as a weapon. He’s easy to anger and treasures grudges like finest jewelry but when someone gets a place in his heart, they stay there. He does not let go of people. A-Xian and I are the only people he has left, the only family he has left. He’s hurting and lashing out because he’s terrified he’ll end up alone. He thinks that if he closes himself in a cocoon of anger, he cannot be hurt.”

Lan Wangji sat still for a long time, mulling over Maiden Jiang’s words. There were small pieces of Jiang Wanyin he could understand but it was buried under everything he absolutely refused to understand. The willingness to hurt Wei Ying was something he simply could not overcome. And yet, it almost seemed like that was what Maiden Jiang expected from him.

”I should just forgive?” He finally asked, incredulous.

”That’s not what I said,” Maiden Jiang chided. ”But knowing why he acts the way he acts might help you to understand his actions even though you’d never accept or forgive them.” She downed her tea and cocked her head, giving him a piercing look. ”Then again, you don’t have to. The only thing you, Hanguang-jun, have to do is to love and accept A-Xian as he is—with all the baggage he carries with him.”

”I am.” I have. I will. As the Heavens is my witness.

Maiden Jiang’s smile turned from small and polite into dazzlingly bright. ”I know.”

They fly out in a loose formation with Lan Wangji and Wei Ying on Bichen, Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin on each side of them, and the Lan disciples surrounding them with Lan Bolin on the lead. One of the Lan disciples is holding a child who Lan Wangji hadn’t even known existed until that morning.

(”This is A-Yuan,” Wen Qing said when she came to see them. ”He’s my cousin and after Wen Ning, my heir.”

”He’s very cute but why are you introducing us now?” Wei Ying asked, genuinely confused. 

Wen Qing glanced at Lan Wangji.

”You want to bring him with us,” Lan Wangji realized. 

”Yes,” she said. ”I want to offer him as a disciple. He’s only three but he’s already lost his whole family except for us.”

Wei Ying hummed. ”And giving up your cousin would also be a neat move to placate other sects, wouldn’t it? If the direct family of the most powerful remaining Wen cultivator lives as a ward in the Cloud Recesses, it’s can be seen as leverage.”

”Yes,” Wen Qing said. ”Also, I don’t trust the other branch families to keep him safe.”)

The Dire Owl flies ahead, swooping in and out of clouds and returning to them every now and then. It feels like it’s both scouting ahead and checking in on Wei Ying which Lan Wangji finds strangely appropriate. 

They sent a message ahead, informing Brother that they were on their way. It would give them ample time to prepare since Wei Ying’s condition doesn’t allow them to push too much. They take a break every few hours and each time Wen Qing forces Wei Ying through a series of stretches. The Lan disciples use the breaks to check in on the villages they pass, asking if there’s trouble that needs to be taken care of and informing them of the changes that have taken place. 

Each evening, they set camp with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s tent in the middle and, again, the Lan disciples surrounding them. Wei Ying is often too tired and cranky to really pay attention to what’s going on in the camp but Lan Wangji sees and understands. For some reason, the small band of disciples, and especially Lan Bolin, have decided that protecting Wei Ying is their prime directive. Their dedication makes Lan Wangji feel warm.

He tries to thank Lan Bolin but the alpha merely shakes his head and bows. ”There’s no need for thanks, Hanguang-jun,” he says. ”We saw what Young Master Wei did to save us. And we saw what Hanguang-jun did to save Young Master Wei. We are honored to guard your rest.”

Lan Wangji inclines his head and thinks that Brother would probably sigh and claim Lan Bolin an unrepentant romantic.

Even though no one can quite say how it happened, little A-Yuan sleeps in their tent. He latched on Wei Ying the moment they took their first break, stretched with him and Wen Qing, and then promptly sat on Wei Ying’s lap. He’s a sweet boy who treats them with wide smiles and questions that Wei Ying is more than happy to answer. A-Yuan calls Wei Ying Xian-gege and Lan Wangji stern-gege which makes Wei Ying fall down in hysterical laughter. Lan Wangji bears the name with the seriousness it deserves.

”They’re fond of each other,” Wen Qing says to Lan Wangji on their fourth day, as they watch Wei Ying teaching A-Yuan to write.

”Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. Wei Ying looks happy and relaxed. It’s a good look on him.

”This could be a permanent solution, you know,” Wen Qing says. Lan Wangji frowns and turns to look at her but she keeps her eyes firmly on Wei Ying and A-Yuan. 

”There is a chance he will never carry,” Wen Qing says so softly Lan Wangji barely hears her. ”And A-Yuan needs a good home. So I guess my real question is, are you the kind of alpha who accepts only a child he sired himself, or are you able to take in a child that isn’t your own flesh and blood?”

Lan Wangji’s gut reaction is to snarl. The shamelessness, the audacity to suggest Lan Wangji would be so small-minded to— 

But he takes a deep breath, forces himself to hear the question Wen Qing is really asking. Can she trust them with the only family she has left? Can she breathe freely, knowing her cousin is in the Cloud Recesses? Can she be certain that if Wei Ying is able to get pregnant, he and Lan Wangji won’t shun A-Yuan like Wei Ying had been shunned, part of the family in the name but in reality, always an outsider?

The answer is, of course, ridiculously obvious. While Lan Wangji cannot deny the soul-deep happiness the thought of a new life growing inside Wei Ying awakens in him, loving little A-Yuan isn’t a chore. He can already see them in the Jingshi, Wei Ying teaching A-Yuan talismans and spells, Lan Wangji teaching him meditation and the guqin, walking in the Cloud Recesses with A-Yuan, helping him bathe, combing his hair before bed, tucking him in. The longing hits him with such a force that he has to duck his head and concentrate on his breathing before he can trust his voice.

”Yes,” he says quietly, fervently, and raises his gaze to meet Wei Ying’s slight frown across the campsite.

”That’s what I thought. But I had to make sure,” Wen Qing says. She touches his arm lightly and says, ”Go to your family, Hanguang-jun.”

Wei Ying gives him a quizzical look when he sits next to them. A-Yuan climbs on his lap straight away and Lan Wangji steadies him with a hand on his back.

”Everything okay, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks.

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says. 

Everything is perfect.

On the day after the arrival of the Dire Owl and the Zhoushan Zhao delegate, Lan Wangji met the young Zhao heir in person. 

He didn’t plan it to happen, on the contrary: he’d been anticipating a slow day with Wei Ying. First, they spent the early morning in bed, Wei Ying dozing on Lan Wangji’s chest and Lan Wangji marveling at the love that was literally on his lap. Then they shared an unhurried breakfast that Wei Ying mostly managed to finish before Lan Wangji helped him dress properly for a short walk in the small, shielded courtyard they visited daily. Lan Wangji carried Wei Ying there and then they practiced walking along the narrow paths and rested on a bench when Wei Ying started to shake.

They were sitting when someone walked in, stopped right next to the gate, and bowed. Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes—he couldn’t make out who the man was but his posture spoke of an alpha. He wasn’t carrying a sword.

”Were you expecting someone?” He asked Wei Ying who was resting against him with his eyes closed.

”Hm?” Wei Ying said and opened one eye. ”No, although…” He opened his other eye and cocked his head. ”He seems familiar.”

The man didn’t approach which further strengthened Lan Wangji’s suspicion of his secondary gender. ”Wait here,” he said, pressed a kiss on his lips, and stood up.

As he approached, the other man changed his posture to visibly submissive, clearly wanting to tell he wasn’t a threat. It was the young alpha who had arrived with the news that confirmed the Dire Owl’s vision. Lan Wangji stopped in front of him, instinctively obscuring Wei Ying from the other alpha’s line of sight.

”Hanguang-jun,” the alpha said as he bowed deep, keeping his scent carefully neutral. ”This one asks for permission to take a brief moment of your time.”

When Lan Wangji nodded, the alpha bowed again. ”Thank you, Hanguang-jun. This one comes from Zhoushan Zhao and is named Zhao Donghai, the sect heir.”

Curious. It was true that Zhoushan Zhao was a minor sect and hence lower in status than Gusu Lan but Zhao Donghai was a sect heir. So, why was he being overly polite? Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, just waited.

Zhao Donghai took his silence as permission to continue, squared his shoulders, and clasped his hands behind his back. ”A couple of years ago, my father, Sect Leader Zhao, reached out to Yunmeng Jiang to ask Young Master Wei to help us with a water demon issue. As Hanguang-jun is well aware, our sect is a coastal sect and water demons are quite common. We didn’t need Young Master Wei to help.” He paused. ”My father invited Young Master Wei to Zhoushan Zhao to ask him as my mate.”

Lan Wangji couldn’t help the way his scent flared and a growl escaped his lips before he managed to rein himself in. Embarrassed, he opened his mouth to apologize but Zhao Donghai raised his hands in front of him, placating him.

”Please, Hanguang-jun, don’t apologize to this one,” he said and carefully kept his eyes averted. ”Our sect is small and our origins are humble but we are ambitious. My father saw an opportunity and decided to take a chance, even though we all—my father, my mother, and I—were almost certain Young Master Wei would turn us down. Which he did.”

Lan Wangji forced his jaw to unclench. Of course Wei Ying had turned them down. He was here, now, with Lan Wangji.

Zhao Donghai bowed again. ”It is my sincere belief that Young Master Wei knew what the invitation was about even before he arrived but he still accompanied me and our disciples to a night-hunt. He politely turned my father’s proposal down at dinner but still stayed to play a game of weiqi with my father. I’m proud and grateful for the opportunity to go on a night-hunt with him because, if I may say so, Young Master Wei is a remarkable, amazing, and highly skillful cultivator.” Zhao Donghai shook his head and smiled ruefully. ”I knew from the moment I met him that I would never be worthy. I’m glad Young Master Wei now has a remarkable alpha like Hanguang-jun at his side.” 

For a moment, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure of what to say. On the one hand, he fully agreed with everything Zhao Donghai said (except the part of Lan Wangji being remarkable himself) but on the other hand, he didn’t appreciate the way the other alpha’s eyes went slightly wide and dazed when he talked about Wei Ying. 

Then again, Wei Ying tended to have that effect on people. For various reasons.

”This one apologizes for taking Hanguang-jun’s time,” Zhao Donghai said and bowed again, his deepest bow so far. ”Zhoushan Zhao would like to offer their congratulations on Young Master Wei and Hanguang-jun’s union. May it be blessed with what your hearts desire. And if your path ever takes you near Zhoushan Zhao, Storm Peak’s gates will always be open.”

Lan Wangji bowed back. ”Thank you. When you return home, give our greetings to your father.”

When Zhao Donghai turned to go, Lan Wangji noticed that his hands were shaking. 

”You took your time,” Wei Ying said as he returned, squinting against the sun. ”What was all that about?”

Lan Wangji sat next to his mate and curled a hand around him as Wei Ying immediately leaned his head on his shoulder. His breathing was calm and there was no trace of pain in his scent as Lan Wangji pressed his nose on his hair. ”Young Master Zhao told me about the proposal,” he said after a moment. ”When Wei Ying went to Storm Peak.”

Wei Ying turned to give him a stunned look. ”He what? He came here to talk to Hanguang-jun about how his omega had been proposed by another?”

”Mn.”

”That man has more courage than many who claim to be better than him,” Wei Ying mused and then hurried to continue, ”I turned them down.” Lan Wangji gave him a flat look which prompted a laugh. ”Which you obviously know because I’m here with you. But anyway. I mean, it’s a nice place. And they have strange tea. You probably wouldn’t like it and your uncle would hate it.”

Lan Wangji immediately decided that he needed to have that tea. (Then he wondered for a moment if he should reprimand himself for the unfilial thought before deciding he truly, honestly, didn’t give a shit.)

”Would you like to visit?” He asked on a gut instinct. The small burst of pleased scent told him his instinct had been right and he stored the reaction away for future reference.

”Yeah, some day,” Wei Ying said and yawned. ”Well, I guess it’s time to head back.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said as he stood up and carefully gathered his mate in his arms. Wei Ying sometimes wanted to stay outside to nap but they usually avoided it because it tended to aggravate his pains and flare up his muscle cramps. Besides, in the bed, he could sleep on Lan Wangji’s chest.

On their way back, they passed a training yard where Lan Wangji saw Young Master Zhao practicing basic forms with his disciples. When the disciples saw them, they stopped and bowed. Wei Ying smiled and offered a small wave at Zhao Donghai who went completely red before looking at Lan Wangji with some trepidation. Lan Wangji merely nodded and moved on.

Wei Ying curled closer against his chest and let out a small hum. ”He’s a nice alpha. Decent and polite and doesn’t care if an omega puts him in his place. I wonder…should I introduce him to Huaisang?” He paused for a moment and then snorted. ”Or perhaps not. Huaisang would eat him alive and not in a funny way.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

When they’re a couple of days away from Gusu, the Dire Owl vanishes. Wei Ying doesn’t seem too concerned so Lan Wangji isn’t either—and then he sort of pauses to wonder when he started to trust a flying mass of resentful energy to be their everyday travel companion.

”Don’t worry, Lan Zhan, it’ll come back eventually,” Wei Ying says. 

He’s pale and a bit withdrawn, clearly getting exhausted from the long journey from Qishan to Gusu. He doesn’t banter as much and while he still has the energy to play with A-Yuan, he’s far more subdued than when they departed. Lan Wangji is also sure the impending arrival at the Cloud Recesses is weighing heavily on Wei Ying—not that he’d admit it, of course, but the trepidation is there. 

Lan Wangji tries to reassure him but all he ever gets back are wan smiles and kisses and, ”I’m fine, Lan Zhan.” He isn’t but Lan Wangji knows well by now that confronting Wei Ying about it when he’s already feeling vulnerable will only end badly. So, he holds his mate tightly during the flight, wraps his arms around him in the night, and keeps an eye on him at all times. 

Curiously, he isn’t the only one. A-Yuan looks at Wei Ying with his big eyes and hugs him, smacks clumsy kisses on his cheeks, and tells him not to be sad. Wen Qing’s eyes track Wei Ying like a hawk and Wen Qionglin doesn’t even try attempting to be subtle as he follows Wei Ying around. 

And then Lan Bolin approaches, stops a little distance away, and bows. His eyes flicker from Lan Wangji to Wei Ying and back. Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying, sees that he’s preoccupied with A-Yuan, and walks to meet the disciple.

”What is it?” He asks.

”Hanguang-jun, the disciples would like to inquire if there’s anything we can do to make Young Master Wei feel better?”

Lan Wangji frowns.

Lan Bolin looks troubled. ”I—may this disciple speak freely?” When Lan Wangji nods, he lets out a small breath. ”We know what happened—when Young Master Wei was expelled.” He raises a hand before Lan Wangji can reprimand him for gossiping and hurries to correct, ”We weren’t gossiping. Many of us are worried to see Young Master Wei grow paler the closer we get to Gusu and we assumed it has something to do with how he was treated. We would like to know if there’s anything we can do to make him feel more at ease.” He looks earnest and the small trickle of scent that leaks through his control is full of worry. ”Should—perhaps some of us could fly ahead to make sure there are no—” he pauses to search for words, ”No unneeded obstacles.”

How is Wei Ying doing this? Lan Wangji wonders. He hasn’t even spent any time with these disciples and the only one he’s spoken with is Lan Bolin. How does he inflict such strong feelings of devotion and loyalty?

”No need,” he finally says. ”Obstacles are taken care of.” He glances at the other disciples hovering nearby, internally amused at how they scatter when they realize Lan Wangji is watching them.

”This one understands, Hanguang-jun,” Lan Bolin says and bows again. 

Lan Wangji clears his throat. ”Lan Bolin, your concern and dedication are noted and appreciated.”

”Yes, Hanguang-jun,” Lan Bolin says and bows deep. ”Thank you, Hanguang-jun.”

That night, Wei Ying gets the first nightmare in a long while. He lets out small, distressed whimpers and his scent turns sour, and when Lan Wangji gently shakes him awake, his eyes are wide and unseeing. He shudders his way to the present and after a moment of gasping for breath, he turns gingerly around and buries himself close to Lan Wangji. He doesn’t talk about it—he never does—but as Lan Wangji hums under his breath and gently trails his fingers along Wei Ying’s back, his scent gradually mellows down and he falls asleep.

The next morning, the Dire Owl swoops into the camp as they’re packing up. It flies straight to Wei Ying, hops on his shoulder, and butts its head on Wei Ying’s cheek with that strange gurgle-hiss it always does when it’s near him.

”That never ceases to be disturbing,” Wen Qing says, watching their interaction with narrowed eyes. 

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says. He agrees, even though he’s been slowly desensitized to the Owl’s presence. It still makes his skin crawl but he has a strange feeling the Owl’s resentful energy is different from regular resentful energy. It has intention and purpose but that’s as much as he’s willing to speculate at the moment. He’ll have to consult Brother for further analysis.

”Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying calls out. ”They know we’re coming. Zhiqiang told me he flew to the Cloud Recesses and perched on top of the wall until your brother came to see him—”

”Zhiqiang?” Wen Qing interrupts, incredulous.

Wei Ying blinks and then nods his head at the Dire Owl. ”Yeah. He told me his name. Like Chenqing did,” he says proudly.

”Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Wen Qing mutters.

”How did Brother react?” Lan Wangji asks, tucking away the startling notion that Wei Ying now had two...tools? Conduits? Companions of resentful energy that have gained sentience on their own.

”Ah, Zhiqiang showed a bunch of startled Lan disciples running around, then Xichen and Meng Yao arrived with your Uncle in tow. I don’t know what they talked about but your Uncle was very red and Xichen was very stern. Meng Yao smiled and waved and then Zhiqiang left.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says. 

”Yeah. Well. I guess they’re expecting us now,” Wei Ying says with a slightly forced grin.

”Good,” Lan Wangji says. He considers for a moment and then turns to look at the Dire Owl. ”Zhiqiang, stay close to me when we arrive. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

The Owl lets out a strangely startled sound and shifts from one foot to the other, either in agitation or excitement, Lan Wangji isn’t sure. He nods and turns his attention back to Wei Ying who gapes at him.

”What—why did you—I thought you didn’t like him!”

Lan Wangji tilts his head. ”He is important to Wei Ying,” he says with finality. ”Is there anything else? We should get going.” 

The stupefied look in Wei Ying’s eyes makes him smug.

•••

They arrive near sundown and land in front of the main gate. Lan Wangji would’ve preferred to fly straight to the Jingshi but it would’ve been a greater insult he’s ready to make just yet. So, they land.

”Hanguang-jun!” The guards salute with a bow. ”Welcome home.” They eye the Wen siblings with barely restrained curiosity but snap their eyes away from Wei Ying when Lan Wangji levels them a flat look. 

”Stern-gege, are we home now?” A-Yuan’s tired voice rings out before the disciple holding him manages to shush him.

”Yes,” Lan Wangji says. 

He sheaths Bichen and gently picks Wei Ying in his arms, and then he raises his head to look out for the swirling mass of resentment. The Dire Owl circles around them a couple of times, and when Lan Wangji quirks a brow and glances at his shoulder, he swoops down. His talons feel sharp even through the protective layers of the Lan robes and his closeness sends a shiver down his spine but he lets none of it show as he enters the Cloud Recesses.

”Showoff,” Wei Ying mutters fondly, resting his head on the opposite shoulder from the Owl.

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says.

They’re perhaps a third of the way up when a group of disciples meets them. ”Hanguang-jun!” They exclaim in various states of shock and alarm, clearly indecisive of how to deal with their entourage. Lan Wangji stops for a moment, inclines his head, and continues walking, forcing the disciples to the side. 

And then, they come face to face with Uncle.

While Lan Wangji manages to keep his face impassive, he can’t quite curb the instinct to hold his mate closer, tighter. On his shoulder, the Owl flares his wings and hisses. The disciples who accompanied them move in a flash, forming a protective circle around them.

”Wangji!” Uncle barks. ”Lan Bolin! What—What is this?”

The disciples stay silent and, for a moment, Lan Wangji seriously considers turning around and flying straight to Lotus Pier. Before he has the chance to do so, Brother and Meng Yao hurry down the path.

”Uncle,” Brother says mildly and curiously, Uncle wilts. 

Lan Wangji files the information away for discussion in the near future. ”Brother,” he greets as the disciples step aside to let the Sect Leader through.

”Wangji,” Brother says with a smile. ”And Wuxian. Welcome home.” Then he sees the Owl on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and blinks.

Lan Wangji sighs. ”Brother, meet Zhiqiang,” he says dryly.

Brother’s brows shoot up but he greets the Owl with a polite nod. Zhiqiang lets out a squeak-hiss and shuffles closer to Lan Wangji’s neck. Lan Wangji has the bewildered thought that the Owl is shy.

”He named himself,” Wei Ying chirps from Lan Wangji’s arms.

”Of course he did,” Brother says with a completely straight face.

”And who is this one?” Meng Yao asks, looking at A-Yuan who peeks from behind Lan Wangji.

”This is A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji says.

Meng Yao kneels down, ignoring the ground that dampens his robes. ”Hello, A-Yuan and welcome to the Cloud Recesses. Did you have a good trip?”

”It was long,” A-Yuan says. He cocks his head. ”Who are you?”

”Oh, how very rude of me,” Meng Yao says. ”My name is Meng Yao. And this tall man here is Lan Xichen. He’s Wangji’s big brother and the leader of the Cloud Recesses.”

A-Yao gives Brother a long, narrow-eyed look and finally says, ”He’s pretty.”

”He is, indeed, very pretty,” Meng Yao says seriously. ”Would you like to walk with me up the path?”

A-Yao bites his lip and glances at Wei Ying. 

”Go ahead, A-Yuan,” Wei Ying says with a smile. ”Xian-gege will be right behind you.”

”Okay!” A-Yuan says, looks up at Meng Yao, and takes his hand.

”Wangji, the Jingshi is ready for you,” Brother says. 

”Thank you,” Lan Wangji says and starts up the path once more, ignoring Uncle as they pass him.

”I’ll come to check in on you later,” Wen Qing calls. Lan Wangji doesn’t reply, merely turns his head slightly and nods.

The disciples walk with them until the Jingshi is in sight. Then Lan Bolin dismisses the rest with a curt nod and turns to face Lan Wangji and Wei Ying. ”Welcome home, Hanguang-jun and Young Master Wei. If there’s anything you need, let this one know.” Then he bows deeply and leaves them alone.

”That was nice of him,” Wei Ying says. He sounds exhausted and his scent isn’t much better off. 

Lan Wangji merely hums and walks up to the porch, smiling slightly at the talisman guarding the door, written in Brother’s familiar brushstrokes.

The Jingshi is almost as he left it but he can immediately spot the additions: A selection of teas and spices on the side table, fresh lotus pods (with stems) preserved with a talisman, extra bedding, soft robes for Wei Ying both in Lan colors and in the red-and-black he prefers.

”This is nice,” Wei Ying says softly. ”Your home is beautiful.”

”Our home,” Lan Wangji corrects. He sets Wei Ying gently on the bed, sheds his outer robes, and takes a look behind the privacy screen to see a bathtub he knew would be there, ready and waiting. He checks the temperature, adds a bit of bathing oil, and goes to fetch his mate.

Wei Ying is half asleep sitting up and barely reacts as Lan Wangji carefully peels his robes off and carries him to the bath. He makes sure Wei Ying is as comfortable as he can be and then washes him from head to toe. It settles something in him to wash his mate in the privacy of his home, wipe the dust and exhaustion from his body with a soft cloth, and untangle his hair with the oil that smells like him. Wei Ying stays silent but his scent turns from dull to warm and sleepy and that is enough for Lan Wangji.

He makes Wei Ying drink several cups of calming herbal blend before wrapping him in the big, soft towel left waiting by the bath. He braids Wei Ying’s hair and then carries him back to bed, forgoes the robes set out for Wei Ying, and dresses him into his own underrobe instead.

”Why are you so nice?” Wei Ying slurs as Lan Wangji helps him to lie on his side.

Lan Wangji kisses his temple. ”Wei Ying is finally home,” he says like it explains everything. 

And to him, it does. 

After years of misunderstandings, confusion, rage, and grief, he finally has Wei Ying here, in his home, in his bed, washed clean of the filth of Nightless City. There’s much work ahead, so much healing Wei Ying needs to do, but they’re finally home.

Wei Ying lets out a soft, sleepy sound, rubs his face against Lan Wangji’s chest. 

Lan Wangji feels like he’s finally able to breathe.

Brother gave him Mother’s letter when he came of age. It was too late by then—he would’ve needed it years earlier to avoid or, better yet, understand what was happening to him with Wei Ying. To his credit, Brother had tried to explain it all to him but he’d been too brittle, too angry, too fractured to understand it. 

And Uncle…well. 

Mother’s letter hadn’t been for Uncle’s eyes.

My dearest boys,  

By the time you are reading this, I’m dead and you have come of age. I apologize for the precautions I had to take to secure the contents of this letter to make sure it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands but trust me when I say they were—are—necessary.

Mother’s handwriting was beautiful if slightly messy, meant more for hurried note-keeping than immaculate scripture. She’d been a doer, not a thinker. Much like Wei Ying.

Whatever you’ve learned about my past and how I became Lan-furen is most likely a lie. Don’t blame your Uncle too much—while he’s been happy to spread the lie, it was a lie I fed him and for a very good reason because it helped to hide the truth. 

The real truth. 

It is true that I killed an Elder. It is also true that I drugged your father and triggered his rut which led to our mating. It is true that said Elder was the one who found me sneaking around in the restricted area of the Lan Library. What you haven’t been told that said Elder raped me and left me behind the Library Pavilion lying in a pool of my own blood and later had the audacity to mock me. He deserved his end.

I know I could’ve run. I also knew that I couldn’t find the material I needed for my research from anywhere else. And I knew my research was vital, we needed all the help we could get. So, I decided to take a gamble: I knew one of the alphas guarding me was the young Sect Leader, so, I drugged us both to make sure our bodies synced up for an optimal outcome. And that’s how I became Lan-furen and your mother.

Lan Wangji had to set the letter on the table and just breathe for a moment. 

For his whole life, he’d been told the same tale: that their mother was a cold-blooded murderer and a calculating seductress and that she’d cared for nothing but herself. And now he learned it wasn’t so. Oh, she had been a murderer and she had calculated every move she’d made but she’d had a valid reason for it? She’d been violated.

And yet, Lan Wangji couldn’t quite suppress the revulsion he felt at Mother’s calmly statement of her actions.

And yet…

How you must feel confused now, my A-Huan and A-Zhan. I apologize for the pain I inevitably bring you with this letter but I refuse to apologize for the actions I took. They were necessary and, I fear, will prove to be necessary even when you read these words. There is evil in the world and the shining bright principles of the Lan will not help against people who step on those principles. Sometimes you need despicable methods to fight despicable enemies.

I understand the consequences of my actions. I know I will never leave this house. I know I will never have the chance to see you grow up, find your way in the world, raise a family. I committed an unforgivable act and, for that, I’m held accountable. I want you to know that I regret neither killing an Elder nor forcing your father to mate me. How could I when it gave me you both?

This letter has been warded and is meant for your eyes only, my dear boys. You can read it to your Uncle if you so wish but know that if he picks it up when it’s open, it will kill him. As for the journal I’ve left behind, it is heavily warded for a reason. When the one who has the knowledge, skill, and power to open it, it will. Before that, all attempts to either read it or destroy it will end in death. 

Please know, my A-Huan and A-Zhan, you are precious to me. I shall be forever proud of you and the kind of alphas you’ll grow up to be.

With all the love in the world and no regrets,

Your mother

When he finished reading the letter, Lan Wangji knew only one thing for certain. 

He had no idea who his mother had been.

On the second morning after they arrived home, Lan Wangji wakes up hard and in the middle of rutting against Wei Ying’s behind and freezes mid-thrust. Before he can make up his mind about how he should handle this—Wei Ying never gave him permission to just take him whenever Lan Wangji feels like it—Wei Ying flails his hand and grabs at Lan Wangji’s hip.

”Why did you stop?”

”I—I only now woke up,” Lan Wangji admits, a bit sheepish.

Wei Ying’s delighted cackle washes away all his embarrassment, though. ”Who would’ve thought—little poor me is so irresistible that Hanguang-jun wants to have me even in his sleep.”

Lan Wangji presses his face into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck and breathes deeply in the concentrated, sleep-warm scent of his mate. ”Yes,” he growls and carefully yanks Wei Ying tightly against his chest, smug when Wei Ying’s laughter turns into a breathy moan.

”Then have me,” Wei Ying whispers.

Lan Wangji has to swallow a couple of times to calm himself down. The mouth on you, he thinks. He gropes for the bottle of lubricant, slicks himself up, and shoves his cock into the tight, familiar space between Wei Ying’s thighs—except that the angle is off and he thrusts, hard, into Wei Ying and realizes his terrible mistake when Wei Ying cries out and his scent blooms with pain. 

”Lan Zhan! Stop! Stop! Don’t move! Don’t—”

For a moment, Lan Wangji’s whole world whites out. He’s frozen in place, his mate’s pained cries in his ears and the scent of pain in his nose and he did this, he hurt Wei Ying, he violated his mate, again, he swore he wouldn’t do that but he did, he’s a terrible alpha who broke his promise and now he’s broken something that was too brittle to begin with and it’s still not enough because he wants to pin Wei Ying down and have him and it’s wrong, so wrong—

”—Zhan? Lan Zhan, breathe—alpha, come back to me—there you are—breathe…in…and…out, good, keep breathing. You’re doing so well, Lan Zhan, so well—”

Wei Ying’s voice breaks through the panicked spiral he’s been drowning in and he gasps, gasps, gasps, trembles, tries to get a grip on himself. Wei Ying is still in his arms, Wei Ying’s hand grips his hip, Wei Ying’s voice in his ear, Wei Ying’s scent—

Wei Ying’s scent is soft like the clouds, warm and safe as it curls around him. It makes Lan Wangji’s head feel heavy and on a distant level, he’s aware that Wei Ying is manipulating him right now but he doesn’t feel like he should be anywhere else but here. He twitches and curls closer and lets out an involuntary grunt as he realizes he’s still inside Wei Ying.

Why?

Why didn’t Wei Ying push him away?

Why is he still there? Did Lan Wangji hurt him so badly he can’t move?

Did—

”Snap out of it,” Wei Ying says sternly. ”It was an accident.”

”I hurt you,” Lan Wangji whispers. ”I—this isn’t right, Wei Ying, I almost—”

”No, you didn’t,” Wei Ying interrupts him.

”But—”

”No,” Wei Ying says and the certainty of his voice washes over Lan Wangji, leaving him speechless. ”You didn’t rape me. It was an accident. You weren’t trying to push into me, you know that and I know that. So don’t you dare to claim you tried to take me by force.”

Lan Wangi presses his forehead on Wei Ying’s shoulder and trembles. Shamefully, his twitching rubs at his cock that starts to harden inside Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji forces back a whine. He should pull out, he should leave the bed and take steps to make sure nothing like this happens again but he can’t because Wei Ying’s grip on his hip gets harder and he draws Lan Wangji closer almost like—

”Move,” Wei Ying says.

”What—Wei Ying, no!” Lan Wangji gasps, appalled. 

”Bah, just do it. But slowly!” He adds. ”I want to test something.”

Lan Wangji swallows and pushes forward slowly, carefully, and then bites back a whimper as his cock hardens even more. He expects Wei Ying to cry out again or at least push him away but he doesn’t. So he continues, holding back as much as he’s able because even though he might want to rut into Wei Ying like an animal doesn’t mean he should.

And then Wei Ying lets out a breathy moan. Lan Wangji freezes again but instead of pleas to stop, this time Wei Ying begs him to continue. Amazed, shocked, Lan Wangji does, adds a bit of force to his thrusts while making sure Wei Ying is stable in his arms. When the spicy smell of Wei Ying’s arousal hits him, he growls, bites down on Wei Ying’s shoulder, and fucks into him, feeling darkly pleased as his knot starts to catch on Wei Ying’s rim. He forces himself in, holds Wei Ying in a vice grip as he ruts into his tight, tight heat, and comes with a low growl. 

Wei Ying yelps as the knot swells and for a moment, his scent turns pained again and it’s like a bucket of cold water on Lan Wangji. As his head clears up, the horror of what he did rises inside him. They tied, he forced himself inside Wei Ying and now they’re stuck and Wei Ying is in pain again, all because of him. Wei Ying is panting and letting out small whimpers and it’s all Lan Wangji’s fault—

”Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines. ”Lan Zhan, Lan-er-gege, please—”

That…that doesn’t sound like pain? 

Lan Wangji frowns and then something—instinct perhaps—makes him trail his hand down Wei Ying’s stomach and when he feels the unmistakable shape of Wei Ying’s hard cock, he can’t bite back a groan. Making sure he doesn’t jostle his mate, Lan Wangji pushes the sheet down and leans over Wei Ying’s shoulder to see, and what a sight it is. Wei Ying’s cock is hard and it curves up against his quivering belly. Lan Wangji reaches out and trails his finger along the hot, silky shaft, marveling at how different it feels now that it’s hard compared to the vulnerable softness he’s held in his hand earlier. He closes his hand around it, just holds it, and then his focus shatters when Wei Ying lets out the most beautiful whimper Lan Wangji has so far heard.

Wei Ying’s eyes are closed and he’s biting at his lower lip. A slight frown mars his forehead and a delightful blush travels from his cheeks down his chest and to his lower dantian. When Lan Wangji moves his hand Wei Ying’s features scrunch up and he whines.

Lan Wangji wants to wring all the beautiful sounds out of him. 

He lets go of Wei Ying’s cock and can’t help a smile at the sound of dismay it prompts. But he needs something to ease the way, so he gropes for the bottle from earlier and manages to pour a handful of lubricant, most of it even into his hand.

This time, when he grips Wei Ying’s cock in a firm hold and slowly moves it back and forth, Wei Ying’s eyes shoot open with a gasp. He tries to wriggle but can’t, being impaled on Lan Wangji’s cock and held firmly in his arms. It does feel amazing on Lan Wangji’s cock, though, so he growls and gyrates his hips, feeling unreasonably smug as Wei Ying lets out a high-pitched whine and his eyes roll over.

He keeps on with the slow, rolling movement of his hips and the tight, slick hold on We Ying’s cock, and watches with hungry eyes at how the cherry red cockhead slips in and out of his hold. It’s mesmerizing, captivating, and he could do this every day, spear Wei Ying in his cock and reduce him to a senseless, whimpering mess of pleasure until he cried. He wants to hold Wei Ying as he takes him apart, loses himself in Wei Ying, and devours him whole until nothing remains but just them. He wants to anoint Wei Ying inside out, soak them thoroughly in each other, pour out all of himself again only to find himself in Wei Ying.

He’s so deeply consumed by his thoughts that Wei Ying’s release takes him by surprise. Wei Ying gasps and then his mouth opens in a soundless scream as he comes, staining his stomach and the sheets in his spend and clenching around Lan Wangji’s softening cock to the point of pain. He growls against Wei Ying’s neck and shivers together with him, overwhelmed by the scents and sounds of them together.

For an indeterminate time, they lay there, panting, and then Wei Ying says, ”Wow.”

And then he giggles before passing out.

Lan Wangji holds Wei Ying in his arms and his softening cock in his hand and decides he does not understand his mate.

•••

”Is something troubling you, Wangji?” Brother asks over tea.

Thing is, Lan Wangji doesn’t really know how to articulate how he feels. Did he use too much force? Did Wei Ying agree to it only because Lan Wangji panicked? Did he really consent to be touched like that? Should Lan Wangji beg for forgiveness even if Wei Ying said there’s nothing to forgive?

”Wangji?” 

He looks up from his tea. Brother’s eyes are kind and worried. Would he be appalled at Lan Wangji’s behavior? How could he not? Taking a mate by force is unseemly, unforgivable.

”Did something happen?”

He swallows. ”Yes,” he whispers.

Brother sets his cup on the table and leans forward. ”Wangji,” he says gently. ”I’m your brother first and foremost. You can talk to me.”

He clenches his hands into fists and then blurts out, ”How do you deal with it? The urges. The need to possess. To consume. I don’t understand,” he says, almost desperate.

Brother tilts his head. ”I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” he says slowly, and then, when Lan Wangji turns his head away in shame, he reaches out to touch his shoulder. ”Wangji, just because I don’t understand doesn’t mean it’s wrong. There are infinite ways to love and be loved. The most important thing is that you agree with what you’re doing.” He pauses and raises a brow. ”Does Wuxian know you’re so anxious about this?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything and Brother sighs. 

”I hurt him,” Lan Wangji says quietly after a moment of silence.

”On purpose?”

Lan Wangji’s head snaps up. ”No!”

Brother raises a placating hand. ”I’m asking because some people like that.”

Lan Wangji blinks several times. ”Do you? Like to hurt your mate?” He asks and immediately cringes. ”I apologize, that was—”

”No, I don’t,” Brother says. Then he hesitates and a slight blush rises to his cheeks. ”If anything, it’s the opposite.”

They stare at each other for a moment and then Brother clears his throat. ”Do you think less of me because of that?”

Lan Wangji frowns. ”Of course not.” 

”Then why would you believe I’d think any less of you?” 

Brother’s voice is unbearably gentle and Lan Wangji feels his throat close up. He isn’t sure how he can wrangle this beast inside of him but if Brother doesn’t think he’s faulty…

”Would you be amenable to talk to A-Yao? I’m only suggesting it because I fear I might not be able to ease your mind simply because I don’t know enough. And A-Yao can be…very thorough.”

Lan Wangji’s mind flashes back to the time when Meng Yao talked with Wei Ying and how red with embarrassment his mate had been. Then again, he can’t deny that his advice has been extremely useful. ”And you would be comfortable with that?” He feels the need to ask.

Brother nods. ”I’m aware that as comprehensive as the texts in our Library are, their focus is more on the…” he winces. ”Traditional side. Meng Yao’s upbringing on the other hand has left him with a wide knowledge of everything to do with carnal pleasures.”

”Mn,” Lan Wangji says and fervently hopes he never hears Brother say ’carnal pleasures’ again.

They finish their tea in only slightly awkward silence and then Lan Wangji leaves Brother to his duties. Wei Ying is with Wen Qing so there’s no need for Lan Wangji to hurry back to him even though he wants to. So, he uses the time he has to walk slowly, deep in his thoughts, mulling over the conversation with Brother.

”I’m sorry Uncle, but I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” he suddenly hears Meng Yao’s polite voice say. ”What, exactly, made you think I’d be willing to go behind Wangji’s back, especially when it concerns his mate he’s fiercely protective of?”

He freezes mid-step and slowly cocks his head. There, on the other side of the partition, are Meng Yao and Uncle. Eavesdropping is against the rules but Lan Wangji has long since made his peace with the rule-breaking—especially if Wei Ying is involved. 

”I merely assumed—” Uncle starts but falls silent as Meng Yao huffs.

”Yes, I suppose you did,” Meng Yao says. Lan Wangji can spy a glimpse of his profile and sees that he still has his smile on but his tone is significantly cooler. ”There seems to be a misunderstanding. See, I love A-Huan. Yes, I know it probably burns your sensible Lan ears to hear me declare it so shamelessly, but it’s true. I love my mate. And I know he loves me.” Meng Yao cocks his head. ”But the thing is, he also loves his brother, very, very much, and Wangji’s happiness is important to him. And since Wangji’s happiness is undeniably tied to A-Xian’s wellbeing and happiness…” He lets his voice trail away and shrugs. 

”I’m quite sure that A-Xian isn’t the mate A-Huan would’ve picked for his brother all those years ago but luckily, he didn’t have to. Wangji picked his mate all by himself—or perhaps they picked each other, I don’t know. Be as it may, despite the obstacles in their way—including but not limited to your appalling behavior—they are together. Against all odds, A-Xian is alive and safe and with Wangji. They will be mated and married, and A-Huan and I will support them with any decision they make.”

Meng Yao sighs. ”Please don’t try this again, Uncle, it will only end up in heartbreak. You must know by now that Wangji will always choose A-Xian and A-Huan will always choose his brother. I don’t know what you thought this plan would accomplish but may I suggest you actually try talking to them directly?” He falls silent for a moment and then adds, ”Wangji loves his family but your actions have hurt him too much to trust you. It’s up to you to build that trust back. If you so choose.”

The look on Uncle’s face is something Lan Wangji has never seen before and it takes a moment to put a name on it.

Defeat.

Uncle doesn’t say anything, he merely nods, and walks away, somehow looking decades older.

”I hope I didn’t overstep,” Meng Yao says quietly, snapping Lan Wangji’s attention back to him. He’s turned around and is now watching Lan Wangji with a small, sheepish smile playing on his lips. 

”No,” Lan Wangji says and steps out of the shadow. ”You have a way with words,” he says after a moment.

Meng Yao glances slightly to the side. ”A skill born out of necessity,” he says softly. ”But I meant every word.”

Lan Wangji takes him in, this delicate-looking omega who has a stronger backbone and sharper mind than most people Lan Wangji has ever met, and bows deep. ”I know,” he says. ”And I’m honored that Wei Ying and I are included in the small number of people you count as your family.”

Meng Yao tilts his head and smiles, amused. ”Ah, I see it now.” When Lan Wangji raises a brow, he shakes his head. ”A-Xian mentioned something about the intensity of having Hanguang-jun’s sincerity focused on you. It is rather humbling.”

Lan Wangji isn’t sure of what to say so he says nothing.

Meng Yao motions with his hand and Lan Wangji nods and together, they start slowly walking down the path. ”Was there something on your mind?” Meng Yao asks.

Lan Wangji keeps his eyes on the white pebbles of the walkway, trying to come up with how to phrase his question. ”I talked with Brother,” he starts slowly. ”He told me to come to you.”

”Ah,” Meng Yao says. ”Does it perhaps have something to do with…bedroom activities?”

”Mn.”

Meng Yao hums and nods. He seems to be thinking for a moment and then come to a conclusion. ”Would you feel comfortable if I ask questions and you either agree or disagree?”

Feeling so relieved he feels faint, Lan Wangji nods.

”Good,” Meng Yao says. ”Let’s start with this: do you want to sit down and put up a privacy talisman?”

Lan Wangji takes a discreet look around and then nods. ”Mn.”

They stop by a bench on a slightly secluded corner Lan Wangji only now realizes Meng Yao purposefully led them. He sits, activates a privacy talisman, and waits.

”My guess is that this is about power dynamics in your bedroom and you’re freaking out,” Meng Yao says bluntly. Lan Wangji whips around to look at him with such incredulity that he starts to laugh. ”Ah, sorry, Wangji, I’m not laughing at you. Or, well…it’s your expression.” He composes himself but there’s still mirth dancing in his eyes as he continues, ”No, I don’t know how to read minds. I grew up in a brothel. Figuring out the client’s inclinations was an everyday business for us.” He lets out a breath and asks, ”Was I wrong?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head.

”Okay. Now, I’m going to assume something based on my experiences and what I’ve observed about you and A-Xian.” He stops and waits, and when Lan Wangji nods, he smiles. ”My assumption is that you would like to use force and A-Xian enjoys it. My assumption is that you either tried something without talking about it properly or something happened and now you feel you did something wrong.”

”Mn.”

”Alright. Now. Let’s begin with the fact that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you—”

What follows is perhaps the most mortifying lecture Lan Wangji has ever received but at the end of it, he feels better in his skin. Surer. 

The only thing left is to talk with his mate.

Life in the Cloud Recesses suits Wei Ying. The air is significantly clearer than in Nightless City due to the lack of volcanic fumes and he has constant access to the Lan healers and the healing cold ponds. Wen Qing has teamed up with Head Healer Lan Xiaoqing and together, they’ve drawn up a rehabilitation schedule for Wei Ying. It’s grueling and hard and pushes him a lot but Wei Ying seems to enjoy the challenge. Lan Wangji isn’t quite sure why he pushes himself so much—whether it’s because he thinks he has to prove himself or because he genuinely misses the physical training, is unclear.

By joint decision, Wei Ying has put demonic cultivation aside for now. He plays Chenqing almost every day but he doesn’t draw any resentful energy through her. Instead, he enjoys the simple act of playing, and Lan Wangji often joins him. Wei Ying tends to play with his eyes closed so it’s Lan Wangji who sees how more and more people take their evening walk close to the Jingshi just to enjoy the music. 

”Does it bother her?” Lan Wangji asks one day, nodding at Chenqing. ”To be used like a regular dizi?”

Wei Ying trails his fingers affectionately along the carved spells on her body and shakes his head. ”No. She’s content like this. She enjoys it when we play together.”

Lan Wangji inclines his head. ”I enjoy it too.”

Zhiqiang is a frequent visitor. He never stays for long—something to do with the Cloud Recesses’ deeply embedded wards that repeal resentful energy—but he has a free passage in the Cloud Recesses. He still needs to be let both in and out but other than that, the Owl is free to do as he pleases. Most often, he accompanies Wei Ying to the cold ponds and perches on the cold stone slab, guarding Wei Ying’s robes. No one is quite sure why.

Little A-Yuan is a constant source of joy. He adores Wei Ying even more now that they have a stable home and he gets to know the Cloud Recesses better. Lan Wangji sees the way Brother looks at A-Yuan and Wei Ying with a knowing smile and it makes his heart ache in a good way. He wonders if Wen Qing would agree to an official adoption instead of just offering A-Yuan as a ward.

Of course, things aren’t perfect. Wei Ying’s body is still slowly mending, he still gets nightmares, he still tires easily. He trains walking and meditating, not swordplay, and he gets his excitement from figuring out the ancient talismans stored in the Library instead of going night-hunting. For the most part, he seems to be fine with it.

Sometimes, he sits on the bench outside the Jingshi and gazes up to the sky, something wistful and yearning in his eyes. He isn’t stable enough to ride a sword on his own so Lan Wangji will take him to the sky on Bichen and fly until Wei Ying is ready to fall asleep.

Sometimes, his whole body aches, old phantom pains cascading into a giant heap with the new injuries, turning Wei Ying into a snarling mess of frustration and uncontrollable muscle spasm that drive him into angry tears or desolate silence. Then, Lan Wangji will draw him a bath and wash him, reminding him of where his limbs are and how his skin bends and stretches, and then he’ll lay Wei Ying on the bed and worship every part of his body until Wei Ying’s tears are from pleasure instead of pain or anger.

And sometimes, Wei Ying has this visceral need to feel alive, to choose the pain instead of letting the pain just take him, and then—and only then—Lan Wangji lets go of the iron control he has on himself. He grips Wei Ying so hard his fingers leave bruises on top of the silvery scars on his hips and bites down on his shoulder and neck until he wears a necklace made of Lan Wangji’s claim around his throat. He takes his pleasure from Wei Ying’s body ruthlessly and pins him down, consumes him for his own satisfaction, and finishes with forcing Wei Ying to come so many times he screams himself hoarse. He feels terrible about it at first, but Wei Ying’s tears taste sweet when he kisses them from his cheeks and the exhausted pleasure he radiates as he watches Lan Wangji with heavy-lidded eyes as he purrs ease his worries.

They still don’t know how things will turn out. They don’t know if Wei Ying’s body will start its proper cycle so that they can mate. They don’t know if Wei Ying can handle dual cultivation or if he can ever wield his sword as he used to. Lan Wangji finds the uncertainty easier to bear than Wei Ying who is restless and lightning-quick by nature but his rehabilitation schedule quells his frenetic energy.

They also know that something is coming. 

The decimation of Tingshan He wasn’t a solitary incident and there are way too many unanswered questions and murky details. Something is slowly coming to life under the surface of the cultivation world and Lan Wangji has a feeling it will end up on their doorstep sooner or later.

But he isn’t worried.

The Cloud Recesses is strong now. The wards have been repaired and recast and the remaining disciples have proven to be fiercely loyal to the clan, yes, but also to Wei Ying. Brother and Lan Wangji have been perfecting their cultivation ceaselessly and their need to protect their mates makes them even more formidable.

And, of course, they have Meng Yao and Wei Ying who are extremely dangerous on their own and an unstoppable force when combined. Lan Wangji has no idea how wide intelligence network Nie Huaisang is operating but he guesses it’s somewhere between impressive and insane.

Yes, danger is on its way.

Let it come.

They are waiting.