Chapter Text
There was an important guest coming to visit the Cloud Recesses. Brother had mentioned in the morning, in a faux casual tone that might’ve escaped Lan Wangji’s notice had he not seen the tiniest bit of stiffness in Lan Xichen’s posture.
This had given Lan Wangji a minute pause. It was rare for his brother to hide his true emotions from him – so rare, in fact, that Lan Wangji had never developed any way to deal with it other than to ignore it altogether.
He had nodded, and gone about his day. His obligations would stop for no visitor, and while it was indeed expected of him to greet whichever highly ranked cultivator appeared at their home, it was not his duty to stand guard.
By midday, no one had come to disturb his work, yet the sounds of a sudden commotion carried to where he was handling the paperwork of the day.
Lan Wangji neatly arranged his writing utensils back to their places, taking care in placing the newest letter from sect leader Yao to a pile of papers to burn. The man sent at least one each month, always a long complaint of something inconsequential.
It had become unfortunately clear that the work of a Chief Cultivator carried with itself quite a lot of that which Lan Wangji’s natural tendencies did not complement. Taking care of relations, for one. Having lasting patience for nonsense, another.
Why Lan Wangji had ever accepted this title, he hadn’t the faintest clue. Someone with a higher tolerance for politics would have surely done better.
Once outside, he could easily observe the cause of the noise. Several of the junior disciples were flocked around a laughing man who seemed to be…
...Pulling their ears?
Lan Wangji was momentarily stuck staring. Such indignities were unprecedented sight in the Lan sect, yet even Sizhui seemed to be wearing an expression of fond exasperation rather than that of indignation. Sizhui pulled himself back, saying something to the man, which earned him a burst of bright laughter that had Lan Wangji halting again.
Black robes, dark hair, red ribbon keeping it in a ponytail so disheveled it might as well have been not tied at all. Body language so brazenly confident and lively it felt miserably out of place in surroundings normally so serene.
Finally gathering his wits, Lan Wangji cleared his throat and stepped forward. The disciples noticed him, and a hush fell as he made his way through. Sizhui’s eyes found him and widened slightly.
“Hanguang-jun!”
The man turned around as well, smile disappearing to make way to an expression Lan Wangji could not, for the life of him, decipher. Dark eyes took him in, the depth in them endless. And then, like the moment had not happened at all, there was a blinding grin spreading back on his face.
Lan Wangji felt something flare under his ribs. He was distantly aware of the disciples around them watching the scene play out, strangely keen.
The cultivator straightened up smoothly from the slouch of his posture and gave him a bow just the slightest bit too deep. Somehow Lan Wangji felt he was being mocked, despite the greeting being nothing if not proper.
“Ah! The venerable Hanguang-jun has graced this humble one with his presence,” he said. “Wei Wuxian, The Yiling Patriarch, at your service.”
The man – Wei Wuxian – winked at him, then. “But you can call me Wei Ying.”
Had Lan Wangji not mastered the control over his expressions long ago, this might’ve had him visibly stunned. It was not often that people dared to be playful with him, especially after becoming the Chief Cultivator.
It was even rarer than people would act explicitly familiar in such a way, constantly cognizant of the rather uninviting side of his character. The careful distance he kept between himself and the rest of the world, while not always entirely deliberate, was at least effective. One look from him could make people uncomfortable in seconds.
Wei Wuxian seemed audaciously comfortable in his presence. It immediately raised Lan Wangji’s hackles.
“Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji. I will not,” he replied, the hands held behind his back twitching. The courteous I’m honored got stuck somewhere in his throat. Some of the disciples startled at his tone, sharing looks.
“A shame,” the man said, evidently unbothered by his coldness. “It’s a standing offer, though.”
Lan Wangji had, of course, heard of the Yiling Patriarch before. A demonic cultivator, indispensable in the war against the Wen, died in disgrace and came back alive to clear his own name as well as bringing into light the crimes of many others.
There were certainly several stories circulating of the man, ranging from clear malicious hearsay to overblown tales of heroism. This kind of audacity surely fit a character so controversial.
Lan Wangji had no recollection of seeing the man before, though, and from the few minutes he’d been sharing space with Wei Wuxian, he was sure he wouldn’t have forgotten a man with such an unabashed presentation.
He did not welcome the unearned informality.
Still. “We have not met before,” he half-stated, half-asked.
Wei Wuxian tilted his head, smile widening ever so much. His eyes were crescent moons. Distracting. “No need to worry, Hanguang-jun. I’m sure if our esteemed Chief Cultivator had seen a face as handsome as mine, there would be no chance he’d ever forget.”
Lan Wangji felt himself go even more frigid. Someone in their audience snorted softly, but Lan Wangji could not find the humor in the shamelessness.
A part of him was faintly relieved, still. Some months back he had fallen to a curse during a night-hunt and had been told the cure involved partial memory loss. He himself had not noticed any difference, of course, though sometimes he would have strange blank spaces in his recollections of past events.
Yet he still remembered his brother, their childhood together. Mother’s smile, the gentian house. The suffering of war, the joy of raising a son. He had kept the important memories, so it was of no consequence.
A few details lost meant very little in the grand scheme of things.
“Then, I welcome you to the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji said.
He did not know how to disagree with Wei Wuxian’s statement without being dishonest. He opted not to comment on it. Visually pleasing or not, surely the personality was enough to rouse contrariness.
Almost like he could see straight through the evasion, Wei Wuxian’s eyes glimmered. “No need for all the formalities, Hanguang-jun! It’s just little old me, after all. Did I disrupt your work? The Chief Cultivator must be busy. Although I’m sure the esteemed Hanguang-jun does everything so effortlessly that he can just easily pick up on where he left!”
“Flattery is forbidden,” Lan Wangji said stiffly. He could feel the disciples staring, stunned over his reactions. Wei Wuxian stepped closer, peering at his face as well with the smile everlasting on his lips.
When was the last time Lan Wangji had admonished a visitor in seriousness? Age had made him more mellow with discipline, but he could not help but fall into the familiar safety of the four thousand rules of the sect when placed in front of someone like this.
It only seemed to spur the man on. “How can it be flattery if it’s true? Even I know that Hanguang-jun is peerless in his talent! So gifted in cultivation, insurmountable with his sword technique--”
Some of the disciples groaned.
“Senior Wei,” someone hissed.
‘ Shameless!’ Lan Wangji would have once hissed in outrage, and perhaps marched away in fury right after. Years into adulthood, he’d learned that these kinds of people would only enjoy the show of anger, and be bolstered by it.
Wei Wuxian laughed, the noise doing something to Lan Wangji’s nerves. Despite his general distaste for excessive social interaction, Lan Wangji could still read between the lines as well as the next person.
He realized when he was being relentlessly mocked. The entire interaction had been nothing but false pleasantries and untrue praise. He couldn’t help the indignation in his tone as he told the Yiling Patriarch coolly, “The rules of our clan apply to visitors as well. Keep this in mind.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the man said, placing a hand over his heart. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Undignified as it was, Lan Wangji couldn’t stop himself from leveling the man with a dubious glare. He’d known Wei Wuxian for all of five minutes, and could already tell he was going to be a nuisance.
Wei Wuxian snorted. “Aiya, so distrustful, Hanguang-jun! You’re making me lose face in front of the kids.”
“Did you have any?” muttered one of the juniors.
Had the disciples always shown such disrespect towards guests? The thought was concerning, no matter how much Lan Wangji was inclined to agree with the comment.
“Lan Jingyi, I heard that! Don’t think I won’t tattle on you to your sect leader,” Wei Wuxian said in an exaggeratedly offended manner. Lan Wangji was developing a headache. “In any case, it was nice meeting you, Hanguang-jun! You really are just as dashing as they say. With the, uh, shoulders, and the face.”
Lan Wangji glared. How was it possible to be this much out of his element in his own home, greeting a passing visitor? He’d surely heard people compliment him before – why was he now helplessly tongue-tied?
“Well, I’m off to the library pavilion.” Wei Wuxian ruffled a disciple’s hair while passing, the radiant grin still on his face. He had notably not asked for directions. The presumption of authorization concerned Lan Wangji as well. Just how impudent was this person?
“The library pavilion?”
“Ah, I’ve got permission. Ask your brother,” Wei Wuxian stated.
“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji said. The other stopped. “If I may ask the reason for your visit?”
A moment passed, as Wei Wuxian’s smile gained a strained edge, strange on the face was that so clearly made for cheerfulness. “Research.”
“For what?”
“A curse,” he said simply and waved a hand. “Have a good day, Hanguang-jun.”
Lan Wangji couldn’t help but follow the man with his gaze all the way until he disappeared behind a corner. The meeting had not followed any ordinary polite format he knew. It had, quite honestly, left him unsettled.
Not to mention the dozen eyes on him. Junior disciples, wide-eyed, like expecting a reaction out of him. Lan Wangji felt a frown forming on his face. The disciples turned just as quickly away, all but one.
“Sizhui.” Lan Wangji turned to his son. “You were familiar with Wei Wuxian.”
Something inexplicable flashed behind the boy’s eyes, even as he inclined his head politely. “Ah, this one apologizes for not mentioning. I have…night-hunted with Senior Wei before.”
Despite Sizhui being quite easily the most upright and well-mannered disciple among his peers, Lan Wangji could feel there was something shifty in the way the boy avoided his eyes. He’d raised this child himself, after all.
“I see,” Lan Wangji replied, despite himself.
The smile of Wei Wuxian’s flashed in his mind, and with a determination, Lan Wangji pushed the image so far back in his head it could not find a way to the front to bother him afterward. He’d done his duty and greeted an important guest on behalf of the sect. There would be no further need for interaction between the two of them.
-
Lan Wangji, generally speaking, did not make note of people. Of course, there were exceptions, once faced with special kindness or distaste, but most often others left an imprint so light that it would fade from his mind in only a few days if not minutes.
He didn’t feel right in his skin for the rest of the day after meeting Wei Wuxian.
Neither meditating nor immersing himself in work seemed to be of help; in fact, the moment he settled into lotus pose he could hear phantom laughter, bright and distracting.
As implausible as it was, the man’s entire demeanor had offended some deep, integral part of him. Acting so familiar with him, even telling him to use his given name at introduction. It was all unusual, but not enough that it should’ve made him so off-kilter.
Dark eyes, twinkling. His robes had not been tied properly, letting too much pale skin show in the neckline. Each movement smooth and unselfconscious, uncontrolled in a way Lan Wangji very deliberately was not. So easy with his words – sociable.
Lan Wangji was a solitary person. He did not seek out social contacts out of his own desire, nor did he flock to the personalities others deemed popular. Often he’d found that the quality of one’s company rarely correlated with how desirable others deemed it.
For over thirty years, silence had been his regular. A comfort, something he did not feel needed a change.
His childhood and teenage years he’d spent alone and studious, and later, when he raised Sizhui, the stars were on his side with a son who shared the kind, mild temperament of his brother. His immediate family he let affect him, others not.
Wei Wuxian was a notable distortion of that pattern, an interaction he could not shake off.
But you can call me Wei Ying.
Things like these usually slid off Lan Wangji like raindrops off glass. He did not stay to think over a brash comment thrown his way, nor would he get hung up on a beautiful face.
This meeting clung onto his person much in the way of burdock.
Brother noticed immediately, of course. They were having tea later that day in the Hanshi, as they often did, once both were done with their duties. One look at Lan Wangji’s face was enough for Lan Xichen to give him a gentle look.
“You’ve met Wei Wuxian,” the man said, pouring his cup full. White tea, something mild. Calming.
“Mn.”
“He is quite the character,” brother said, and there was something terribly knowing in his smile. Not even in the usual, all-knowing kind; more like there was some sort of a joke in play that only Lan Xichen was in on.
His brother often had an inclination to find certain aspects of social situations humorous. Lan Wangji lacked that skill, thus he did not demand the other to explain himself.
He merely nodded, stomping on his own irritation. The bright laughter was still ringing in his ears, a noise unfamiliar to his usual soundscape.
He sipped his tea and refused to acknowledge the simmering heat in his chest. It was beneath him to get so hung up.
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said then.
“Mn.”
“Wei Wuxian…I’d ask you to not be too hard on him.”
Surprised, Lan Wangji raised his eyes to look at his brother, but the man was staring off somewhere behind him. “He may seem like a troublesome person, and I cannot say he is not that at times, but he is, at heart, a good man. And he’s been through much, in the past years.”
Lan Wangji blinked. He had not been aware his brother held these sentiments towards an infamous demonic cultivator. Their sect was not known for its openness with such things.
Then again, his brother had always been terribly free with his compassion.
“I will endeavor,” Lan Wangji said.
His brother smiled. “Good.”
The conversation took a lull, then, and for a while, they merely drank tea in silence.
Lan Wangji’s mind wandered back to the morning, back to the laughter. Wei Wuxian hadn’t seemed like he’d gone through much at all, then. So ready with his smiles, open with his expressions.
Then again, Lan Wangji knew that his own face was hardly a broadcast of his internal struggles. Perhaps he was only feeding the sudden, unseemly obsession with these uncharitable thoughts.
He settled his teacup gently back to the table, porcelain clinking.
“Brother...you know Wei Wuxian.”
“Hm,” Lan Xichen replied, and for the third time that day, Lan Wangji could not read an expression of a conversation partner. “I’m sure Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind another friend.”
Lan Wangji felt his ears turning red. “You have misunderstood.”
There was an amused glint in his brother’s eyes again. “Oh?”
“I...” Lan Wangji started, but then merely sighed. Lan Xichen snorted softly but didn’t press him on it, a small grace.
They did not talk about Wei Wuxian after that.
-
Curiously, Lan Wangji didn’t see much of Wei Wuxian after the first meeting. He’d been sure the other would be a constant disturbance, making noise and bothering people like his first impression had suggested.
Instead, Wei Wuxian seemed to be holed up in the library, only leaving to sleep at the curfew and then returning when it was permitted. Or so he was told by Sizhui, who offered the information without prompting and then politely pretended not to notice when Lan Wangji couldn’t hide his own interest in the subject quite as well as he’d hoped.
Lan Wangji saw Wei Wuxian only once in the first week, as he was passing by the main courtyard. The man was talking to a Lan healer rather animatedly, hands swishing around as he made his point. The healer seemed to nod along with interest.
Lan Wangji had meant to pass them by without notice, but Wei Wuxian’s sentence was quickly cut in the middle as he spotted Lan Wangji. Another one of those indecipherable looks crossed his face before it split back into the bright grin Lan Wangji now associated with the man.
“Hanguang-jun!” the man waved, and Lan Wangji nodded. The Lan healer’s eyes jumped between them with a strange expression.
After moving on, Lan Wangji had not been followed. He refused to feel any sort of way about it.
At the start of the second week, he needed to visit the library pavilion. A letter from the Nie sect requested a specific knowledge of a yao that could be only found in the extensive collections of the Lan sect, if not from a cultivator specialized in rare monsters.
The walk was deceptively calm when he made his way to the pavilion. The moment he opened the doors to the library, the illusion was broken. As usual, the room was bathed in the warm shades of sunlight, sect members diligently at work, yet the normal silence was replaced with a heated murmur.
A disciple was chastening someone behind a shelf.
“–leave the books lying around! I cannot run after you cleaning all day! Senior Wei, you’re being impossible.”
“You know, Lan Yu, it’s called organized clutter! What’s with a few misplaced books? It’s about the big picture! If I know where everything is, is it so bad?”
“The rest of us have to know where the books are as well,” Lan Yu said, exasperated. “Besides, that is not the only thing you should be worrying about. When was the last time you ate?”
“Aah, well, do we count snacks? Because I had a loquat this morning.” There was a slight pause, then quieter: “Or was it yesterday…?”
Lan Yu sighed. Lan Wangj, with a slight shake of his head, turned the corner to witness the scene. Wei Wuxian was sitting – slouching – between shelves, opened books and discarded papers all in disorder around him. The man himself looked indeed like he had not eaten in some time, and slept in an even longer while.
Lan Yu, an older disciple, immediately bowed his greeting to Hanguang-jun, Wei Wuxian following with the slightest delay.
“Uncleanliness is forbidden. Discarding one’s health is forbidden,” Lan Wangji said, earning himself a strangely incredulous look from the disciple.
This might have been warranted. After all, while Hanguang-jun was known for his impeccable conduct, when it came to enforcing the rules, more often than not he really would turn a blind eye to these inconsequential instances of misbehavior.
Even when he notified someone, it was usually with a wry edge. Not the strict tone of voice he’d used just now.
Wei Wuxian, for his part, burst into laughter.
Lan Wangji could feel his lips thinning into a line, his own expression chilling several degrees.
“Ah, Hanguang-jun, it is fine– I was just going to help Master Wei with cleaning–”
“Do not inconvenience others,” Lan Wangji stated towards Wei Wuxian, ignoring the disciple altogether. Lan Yu’s mouth snapped shut immediately, but the disbelieving look in his eyes didn’t seem to disappear.
Wei Wuxian wiped his eyes, the laughter slowly fading. “Is Hanguang-jun only going to communicate through sect rules from now on?”
Lan Wangji did not dignify the comment with an answer. Instead, he leaned down to pick up one of the discarded papers.
“Ah, ah, ah-- Hanguang-jun shouldn’t bother with that!” Wei Wuxian said, the humor suddenly gone from his voice. The paper was snatched from Lan Wangji’s hands just as quickly. “My notes are notoriously hard to read! Believe me, I’ve been told so too many times not to believe it. My handwriting is actually so bad that it once made a teacher of mine weep!”
The animated flailing of the slim body seemed to contrast the tiredness of the man’s features. The dark circles under Wei Wuxian’s eyes were a shade of deep blue. Like the gentians by Lan Wangji’s mother’s house.
Stuck between ignoring the nonsense out of principle and acknowledging the words with a soft ‘ mn ’, Lan Wangji watched Wei Wuxian gather the rest of the papers.
“I should go,” said Lan Yu. “Hanguang-jun. Senior Wei.”
“Ha, don’t worry, I won’t make such a mess again,” Wei Wuxian called after the man. The disciple merely sent him a look.
Distantly, Lan Wangji wondered whether the two of them knew each other as well from before. They acted familiar with each other. Or perhaps that was just the general effect Wei Wuxian had on people.
The thought displeased him.
Then they were alone. Surprisingly, Wei Wuxian seemed slightly more subdued. The man glanced at Lan Wangji, an eyebrow raised.
“So, what brings the esteemed Hanguang-jun to my humble abode?”
“This is a library,” Lan Wangji felt the need to correct. “You do not live here.”
“Haha, I’ve spent so much time here lately I might just as well move in permanently. Probably would, if you guys allowed it,” Wei Wuxian replied, eyes twinkling. “You didn’t answer the question, though.”
Lan Wangji turned his gaze away. “I need information on a particular yao .”
“Hm? Which one?”
He told him, and the spark in Wei Wuxian’s tired eyes brightened. “Oh! That’s easy, you should just tell Huaisang to send a female cultivator to deal with that. That kind of yao have a thrall that only works on men.”
There was a lot Lan Wangji could reply to. Huaisang? Are you close to sect leader Nie? How do you know about this yao? How do you know how to deal with it? What is your relationship with sect leader Nie?
Instead, Lan Wangji nodded. “I will verify this from the book.”
“What, you don’t trust me? Is the word of the Yiling Patriarch still worth so little? Aiyah, Hanguang-jun wounds me!”
Lan Wangji didn’t let himself sigh audibly, but from the amusement on the other, he could tell that one way or the other, Wei Wuxian had managed to read his expression.
He did not let himself mind it. There was no reason to.
Walking past the mess on the floor and the man who caused it, Lan Wangji didn’t utter another word, still.
“Don’t be mad at me, Hanguang-jun!” Wei Wuxian laughed after him.
Lan Wangji ignored him. Somewhere in the back he found the book he was looking for and started searching. He kept his focus on the task at hand, only distantly thinking of the figure still working behind him. He told this to himself over and over, the words of the book blurring as his focus constantly shifted between the slight shuffling sounds and ‘hmm’-ing behind.
Was Wei Wuxian not able to even read in silence? Lan Wangji grit his teeth, resolute. Third time going over the sentences on the page he finally internalized enough to review the facts of the yao matter.
– cannot thrall a female cultivator, the text said. The traitor. Lan Wangji gently pushed the book back into its place, readying himself to walk past Wei Wuxian’s knowing smirk.
Surprisingly, Wei Wuxian didn’t say a word when he passed him. Lan Wangji didn’t know if it was better or worse than if he had.
Later that day, Lan Wangji tried to spot the other man in the dining hall, but even without confirmation, he knew he wasn’t there. An abrasive personality such as his would never go unnoticed among the mild-mannered disciples of the Lan.
Yet the evidence of the other’s lack of personal care seemed to get stuck on Lan Wangji’s mind, making room in the place that was now holding all the little facts he’d accumulated of Wei Wuxian.
Why he’d started to gather such a collection, he could not say.
-
The next day Lan Wangji headed to the library again, this time with a personal reason rather than an official one. Last night he’d meditated on his own behavior in contrast to Wei Wuxian’s, and found himself lacking in more ways than one.
The man had been helpful in the matter concerning the yao , even if the help came adorned with a teasing smile, while Lan Wangji had treated him with as much courtesy as a rich lord of his lowest servant.
It had not been Wei Wuxian’s fault that something in his general being buried itself under Lan Wangji’s skin. Neither was it his fault that Lan Wangji had difficulties keeping to his Lan regulations in his presence. The serene pond of his mind was full of waves, and it would’ve been easier to blame that on Wei Wuxian had the man actually done something wrong.
He hadn’t. Technically. How could Lan Wangji accuse him of mockery when its only basis was on the lilt of his words, the gleam in his eyes, the posture of his shoulders? How could Lan Wangji blame him for plaguing his thoughts, when he had not once bothered to seek out Lan Wangji himself?
Clearly, the fault lay in Lan Wangji.
Therefore it was obvious to him that he’d need to thank Wei Wuxian like he would’ve any other visitor: plainly, courteously, yet keeping his usual distance.
Lan Wangji took a while spotting him once he entered the library. The disciple from yesterday, Lan Yu, was studiously copying some kind of a scroll, a basket of loquats next to him. On top of them a note, ‘Thank you for the help!’ with a smiley face drawn next to it, as well as a pile of books.
A sourness flashed through him, then. Something in him wanted to admonish the disciple for eating in the library. Once, when he was younger and more prone to succumbing to pettiness, Lan Wangji would have done so.
Now he was twenty years too old for such pedantry, especially when Lan Yu clearly was not enjoying the fruit currently, merely safekeeping it beside him for later. And the fruits were a thank-you, not anything Lan Wangji should concern himself with.
The sourness did not disappear with the thought.
Wei Wuxian himself was found in the back of the library, this time with slightly less of a mess surrounding him. The pile of books in front of him was teetering on too high and was bound to fall over at any given moment. Wei Wuxian did not seem to care about this; the man was scribbling something on a piece of paper, his dark eyes focused, biting his plump lower lip, a finger gently tapping the side of his nose.
Lan Wangji cast a shadow over the work, and only then did Wei Wuxian raise his head.
“Hanguang-jun! Back so soon?” The man’s eyes narrowed in a smile. “Don’t tell me you were so impressed with me yesterday you had to consult me more?”
The urge to thank the other shriveled up and died inside of Lan Wangji. Despite this, he pushed on.
“Wei Wuxian,” he said. Paused. Then, very collectedly, said: “I came to thank you.”
Wei Wuxian, sleep-deprived and clearly a little out of it, twitched at the use of his courtesy name, then turned the discomfited look into an owlish one, blinking up at Lan Wangji.
“Uh. No problem, no problem,” he said quickly, giving a weak chuckle. “No need for thanks, though!”
“Why?”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth. Closed it. Then: “Uh. You sound way too sincere when you say that.”
Lan Wangji frowned. “Am I not supposed to sound sincere?”
“Of course you are – it’s just different when it comes from the venerable Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Lan, handsome and illustrious Hanguang-jun!”
There, again, the flair of mockery. Lan Wangji blinked slowly, thinking of all things meditative, and resolutely refused to get baited. “I see.”
“You didn’t really need help with something else, did you? I may not look like it, but I do know a thing or two about monsters and ghosts,” Wei Wuxian continued. “It’s in the Yiling Patriarch’s job description. ‘Expert on all things evil’.”
“No,” was Lan Wangji’s reply.
“No matter, no matter, it’s more fun figuring things out yourself anyway.” Wei Wuxian waved his hand blithely. “I say that to the little Lans all the time! ‘Think for yourself’!”
Wei Wuxian’s shoulders slumped with a puff of air, then, as if instantly regretting the words. The man raised a hand to rub the side of his neck, looking strangely muted. Out of all the things he’d said so far, this was the most inoffensive to Lan Wangj.
A strange reaction, for certain.
“Ah, ignore me, I just say things,” Wei Wuxian stated after a moment of silence. “Shamelessly bothering the Chief Cultivator! Such a nuisance for a busy man such as yourself.”
“It is fine,” Lan Wangji said, even though he really wasn’t certain about that. “This curse you are researching...”
“Oh, this?” Wei Wuxian turned to his papers, nose scrunching. Cute, thought a distant part of Lan Wangji. A part he buried immediately in mortification. ”It’s bit of a problem.”
Lan Wangji inclined his head, an encouragement to continue.
“A while back someone I care about got cursed. It was a, well. Let’s just say that this person had a ridiculously big weak spot that the curse targeted.” The brightness that had been painting his face was now dimmed, mouth a straight line. It made Lan Wangji desperately aware of his own lack of skill in comforting.
“It is not a common curse?”
“Ha, that’s the thing. It was a modified curse, really complicated work. Impossible to cure because there was a time limit. So, uh, I had to...” Wei Wuxian’s eyes flickered from the papers to Lan Wangji and back. “I got rid of the time limit. And now I just need to figure out how to break the curse with my own modifications. Oh, don’t worry, I’m good at that.”
Once again Lan Wangji was surprised that his own face of concern was noted. His expressions were slight in their variations, yet Wei Wuxian could read him with little effort. No one outside of his immediate family was able to do that with such ease.
Lan Wangji nodded, discomfited. “And the person who cast the curse?”
The small smile on Wei Wuxian’s face suddenly got an edge of something in it, something that made Lan Wangji, for the first time, think of the name ‘Yiling Patriarch’ in context with this man. In the low light, the man’s eyes seemed to gleam red.
“The first thing after buying time was going after that person. I– it was over something very petty, too,” Wei Wuxian said. “Me, actually. Well. Just my reputation was enough to– in any case. I hadn’t done anything to him back then. So he had no reason.”
Wei Wuxian paused, then pursed his lips and gave Lan Wangji a darkly amused look. “I definitely did something to him afterward. But to be fair, he started it.”
Lan Wangji thought of many rules that applied there. Letting go of grudges. Not using unnecessary cruelty in retributions. The pain concerning attachments. Then he thought of someone threatening the lives of his brother or Sizhui, and his mouth could not let any of those thoughts be verbalized.
He nodded at Wei Wuxian, whose eyes were now studying his face with another unreadable look.
“Are you progressing in your research?”
“Ah, I was meant to talk about this with your brother, actually,” Wei Wuxian said, jumping up. Even at full height, he was a few inches shorter than Lan Wangji and peered up at him with a newly energized mood. “I definitely need to get to the lower levels of the library.”
Lan Wangji took a step back from the way too close warmth of Wei Wuxian’s body. Wei Wuxian merely followed after. “The lower levels are not accessible to visitors.”
“Yes, that’s why I need to talk with your brother.”
For a guest to demand the sect leader permission to visit the forbidden section was almost laughably audacious. Lan Wangji was not surprised by this audacity. “You will need a supervisor, even if you are granted permission.”
Wei Wuxian’s smile was yet again blinding. “Is Hanguang-jun volunteering?”
Lan Wangji could say no. Most likely should say no.
“Should you get the permission,” was what escaped his mouth. Somewhere along the way, he had clearly lost himself.
Somehow, though, the way the answer made Wei Wuxian beam was enough to make up for it. Ah, yet another thought Lan Wangji needed to not get stuck on.
-
The permission was acquired with ease so outlandish it made Lan Wangji read through the permit over and over again, searching for a sign of forgery. But no matter how many times he read through the words, it certainly was his brother’s handwriting.
Lan Wangji wondered how Wei Wuxian had gotten in the good graces of his brother, to have earned his trust in a way that got the man access to the most guarded places of the Cloud Recesses. He thought about asking his brother but reconsidered when he thought of the knowing smile that would surely appear on that face.
Wei Wuxian’s smile had not dimmed a shade while he watched Lan Wangji read through the paper, hovering next to him, waiting for the inevitable conclusion. Lan Wangji couldn’t handle the closeness, but the glare he’d sent the man’s way had been promptly ignored.
It had been the first time Wei Wuxian had sought out Lan Wangji, finding him in the midst of doing his usual paperwork. At the first sight of the black robes in his periphery Lan Wangji’s chest had constricted, but he had refused to look up before a hand holding a permit was shoved at him with excitement.
“Well? It’s real, you can ask Xichen-ge himself! I wouldn’t forge that, you know, I’d get immediately caught,” Wei Wuxian said, and finally Lan Wangji drew his gaze upwards.
The line of his mouth flattened. “Xichen-ge?”
“Yes, yes, your brother, the First Jade of Lan, the sect leader, a good friend of mine,” the man replied, waving his hand with the words.
“A good friend,” Lan Wangji said and wished desperately that the sourness in him could not be heard through his voice. Brother had not mentioned their relationship was this close.
Most often it was impossible for people to read him, yet Wei Wuxian had proved to be an exception in this as well. A teasing smile immediately replaced the excited one. “Hanguang-jun, don’t tell me…have I already made such an impression? Does Hanguang-jun want to be my good friend as well?”
“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji huffed, eyes cast.
“Aiyah, Hanguang-jun, so cold to me! So cruel!” Wei Wuxian threw an arm over his head in theatrics, before peeking at him under it. “You know, once upon a time I might’ve called you a boring fuddy-duddy for a rejection like that.”
Lan Wangji’s answering look was unimpressed. Once upon a time, such a comment would not have gone over well. If he were completely honest, a comment like that would most likely insult Lan Wangji still. He knew people thought these things about him. Somehow the thought of Wei Wuxian agreeing with the rest was...unpleasant.
“To save my pride, of course!” the man continued. “One can tolerate those kinds of dismissals only so many times before turning bitter!”
Lan Wangji sighed. He lowered the permit to the pile of the letters needing correspondence, gathered his utensils, and swiftly lifted them into his Qiankun sleeve.
“We should head to the library,” he merely said, passing Wei Wuxian’s still dramatically bent figure without a glance.
“Ah, Hanguang-jun is conscientious as always! Lead the way.”
Lead the way he did, though how much that meant, he wasn’t entirely sure. It seemed that Wei Wuxian didn’t appear to wander much in the Cloud Recesses.
Lan Wangji had not witnessed the man asking for directions once when often guests needed a guide to ease their visit. The layout of his home was relatively simple, but the Cloud Recesses were by no means small or tightly packed place.
Even stranger thing, though, was the way his fellow sect members reacted to Wei Wuxian. Which was with hardly any visible displeasure at all. A personality like the Yiling Patriarch’s was sure to turn heads wherever he went, and while gossiping was explicitly forbidden by the rules, Lan Wangji was not so naive as to believe it still didn’t happen within the walls of his home.
Still, no muffled gasps could be heard or indignantly widened eyes seen when Wei Wuxian laughed too loudly. There were looks thrown his way, yes, and mild head shakes after a particularly loud racket, but besides that, everyone seemed mostly unbothered.
To Lan Wangji, who most definitely was bothered , this seemed inexplicable.
They did garner attention walking through the courtyard together, though. Lan Wangji kept his gaze straight, expression solemn, while the other man seemed intent on greeting every single disciple they passed. Another inexplicable thing; the disciples greeted him back without the polite distance of strangers.
Through mental fortitude only did Lan Wangji stop the corner of his mouth from curling down. Wei Wuxian seemed to inspire friendly feelings even in people raised fully on propriety, who’d normally start warming up only after months of prolonged acquaintance.
Lan Wangji could not deny the brightness of the other man, the magnetic charisma of his personality, nor the undebatable skill in cultivation he had. Still, he was clearly a frivolous man of questionable motives, and Lan Wangji would keep his distance as to not be pulled into the obvious circle of-- of fawners the man was gathering around him.
“Hm? What’s with that expression, Hanguang-jun?” Wei Wuxian asked after greeting the nth disciple with overt familiarity.
Lan Wangji crushed the instinct to glare, and instead chose the slightly less juvenile road of ignoring the man. They had arrived, besides, and for the rest of the day, Wei Wuxian would be confined in a room with Lan Wangji only.
...Not that it mattered. Wei Wuxian could spend his time smiling at any disciple he wanted or calling Lan Xichen familiarly as much as he wished. It was no business of Lan Wangji’s.
-
The lower levels of the library pavilion were under heavy restriction. Not many people even in the Lan sect itself were authorized to go there. It wasn’t unheard of for outsiders to get access, but it was uncommon enough that hardly anyone ever tried. The reason for the visit had to be heavy, and the person assigned to oversee extremely trusted.
In Lan Wangji’s lifetime, he had never seen a guest visiting the lower levels.
Wei Wuxian, once they had walked down the stairs, headed straight to the portion of the library where the scrolls about curses resided. He did not ask Lan Wangji for help, nor did he wander around between the shelves.
Close to the stairs, there was a desk. Lan Wangji refused to be surprised, and moreover, refused to dwell. He sat down, assembled his work on the table, and started reading. Not soon after there was a thud in front of him, three thick books tossed on the other side, and one Wei Wuxian flopping down to the seat before him.
On the spines of the books, their names were written with faded ink: Love curses. Spells for the enamored. Curses of the heart.
The curse of Wei Wuxian’s loved one had targeted a weakness, he’d said. Lan Wangji remembered the weeks after his mother’s death, how his soft, bleeding heart had first learned the cruelty of the world. He could see how this particular foible could be used to bring someone’s ruin.
Love curse, though. Lan Wangji’s eyes flickered up, but Wei Wuxian’s expression could not be described as ‘heartbroken’. In fact, the man was gazing at him through his long lashes, face coquettish. He was leaning over the table, a hand under his chin like offering his smile on a tray for Lan Wangji to consume.
“Isn’t it a good thing you Lans keep dangerous books like these out of reach?” he asked, and the tone made Lan Wangji immediately wary. “What would happen if someone cast a love spell on Hanguang-jun and married him? I’d be devastated!”
Lan Wangji turned back to his work, refusing to feel embarrassed. “Ridiculous.”
“It’s a plausible fear! Hanguang-jun is, after all, the second most eligible bachelor of the cultivation world!”
“I am not,” Lan Wangji denied before he could even think the statement over.
But after saying it out loud, he suddenly realized that it was indeed true. He’d, of course, heard of the list before, and his relative ranking in it, but he belatedly realized that for years now his name had not appeared in the gossip at all, or if it did appear, it had not reached his ears quite as frequently as it once had.
He supposed the people had finally given up on him and moved on to people more feasible to actually marry. Lan Wangji could not feel anything but relieved over it.
“Ha, I guess that’s true,” Wei Wuxian said when Lan Wangji did not elaborate. “I was once in the fourth place, you know. My face was so handsome it made up for my humble background!”
Lan Wangji did not doubt for a moment that Wei Wuxian had appeared high up on the list. His personality was something many would certainly find charming.
“But that was obviously before, well, everything,” the man continued. “Before I became the Yiling Patriarch. Agh, those posters they draw of me! Have you seen them? They’re terrible, so ugly, besmirching my good name. My bad name. No, I guess it’s pretty neutral now. Debatable.”
Lan Wangji had seen some of those posters, and they were indeed very much not true to their subject.
“Anyway, I have a completely new face now.” Wei Wuxian tapped his own cheek. “A bit different than the first one, but still pretty enough. Right, Hanguang-jun?”
It was a distractingly attractive face. Lan Wangji did not feel the need to say that out loud, though. The other was clearly aware of his own virtues.
He turned his attention back to the work at hand, tired of being teased. His ears were flaming.
“Sit properly. Focus on your research,” he said.
Surprisingly, Wei Wuxian did. Even if he seemed to find the evasion extremely amusing.
For a while, the two of them focused on their individual tasks, Lan Wangji responding to the urgent letters with care, and the less urgent with fully deserved annoyance. Sect leader Yao was complaining again. Lan Wangji put the letter aside after skimming it through, always the first one in the ‘papers to burn’ pile.
Wei Wuxian was surprisingly easy to deal with when the man was immersed in his research. Of course, he didn’t stay put for a second, twitching and humming and scrambling for his notes, but whenever Lan Wangji happened to glance up, the other was completely focused on his own work.
It went like that for a while. After a few hours, the noises quieted down, a strange lull falling over them. Lan Wangji could feel Wei Wuxian’s eyes on him, studying his face with concentration.
Lan Wangji tried not to let it bother him, even when the gaze got him feeling particularly aware of himself. He did not fidget – one of the things he could always trust, the unswerving control he had over himself.
He did not fidget, but he could feel himself losing patience. He finished the sentence calmly before putting the brush away, slowly turning to meet Wei Wuxian’s gaze.
Something unreadable in those eyes made him pause, unsure. A feeling he did not recognize, one that made the darkness in the center of them seem bottomless. For a moment he held that stare. Then, like it had not happened at all, Wei Wuxian turned back to his own work, not a word exchanged.
-
This became the new rhythm: Lan Wangji woke up early, attended to the duties that required his presence, and when those were done, he had inevitably already found himself in the company of Wei Wuxian.
The new rhythm for Wei Wuxian seemed to be sleeping in, then finding Lan Wangji immediately after waking up and following him around, tugging his sleeve until he was able to do paperwork in the library.
This had both positive and negative sides. It seemed that now when he could not continue his research immediately after the library opened, Wei Wuxian used this opportunity to sleep in. The shadows under his eyes lightened.
Another positive was having company in his work hours. This would’ve come as an unimaginable change of preference to anyone who knew him.
Lan Wangji thrived in solitude, but as difficult as it was to admit, they did work well together. Wei Wuxian was rather single-minded in his work when he got to it. It was...not unpleasant. To be sitting in the library with the man for half a day, each day.
Even when there were those constant noises, the half-muttered words, and delighted hums when he found something interesting in one of the books, Wei Wuxian did not overtly bother him.
Then again, the negatives were getting more strenuous each day. Wei Wuxian was a magnet for attention, and as Lan Wangji was approached in public by the man, that attention was directed to himself as well. His every interaction with him, outside of the library, was a source of entertainment for the curious eyes of the Lan disciples.
A loudly cheered ‘Hanguang-jun!’ would garner amused looks, a nod of greeting from him had heads tilting. Wei Wuxian would stand too close to him, sometimes even going as far as putting a fleeting hand on his arm or shoulder before quickly pulling it off with light laughter after Lan Wangji would inevitably stiffen at the gesture. Despite this, Wei Wuxian would carry on, chattering inanely like one would with a close friend.
These interactions were under constant scrutiny, and Lan Wangji could not help falling deeper into his own aloofness, into the part of untouchable Jade of Lan, in order to keep himself from doing something ludicrous, like touching him back.
Wei Wuxian was not even slightly discouraged by this.
In fact, once they were alone in the library, surrounded only by whitened walls and ancient scriptures, Wei Wuxian grew bolder by the day. While immersed in the work he might’ve behaved, whenever there was a moment of frustration or boredom with the research, Wei Wuxian would inevitably turn his attention and all the pent-up mischief on his unsuspecting supervisor.
At first, Lan Wangji had humored him. After the first few times of being mercilessly teased, Lan Wangji decided the appropriate course of action was to ignore the man altogether. This, unfortunately, was taken as a challenge.
“Hanguang-jun! Hanguang-jun. Will you not even look up from your work? What if I died, what if I really needed help right now and you did not look and I really did die? Do you really want that on your conscience, Hanguang-jun?” Wei Wuxian whined, his voice almost nasally. Lan Wangji did not look up.
“I really will die! Has this been your plan all along, Hanguang-jun? Did you want me to perish?”
“...”
“This cruelty! If only people knew what the admirable Hanguang-jun was really like! A merciless man, a fiend, someone who does not care for a dying man!”
A moment of silence passed. Then-- “Hanguang-jun? Second Master Lan! Lan Wangji!”
“...”
“...Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji’s head popped up, in an equal mix of disbelief and outrage. To use his familiar name like this – the amount of shamelessness this man possessed!
Only…
The look on Wei Wuxian’s face was not one he expected. Instead of teasing grin, the smile on his face was gentle, the brown in his eyes dipping into blackness. Lan Wangji felt sucker-punched.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, finally you look at me,” Wei Wuxian said, tone soft.
Lan Wangji, suddenly out of words, swallowed dryly. “Mn.”
Wei Wuxian, seemingly satisfied with that, went back to work. Lan Wangji turned to his own papers as well, yet for a long while, he could not focus on anything at all.
The stares of the others got distinctly more amused after that. Wei Wuxian would run around calling his name, ‘Lan Zhan’ this and ‘Lan Zhan’ that, and Lan Wangji was helpless to do anything but feel the embers of a long-burning fire warming up in his chest.
“I can’t believe it’s happening again,” he heard a disciple whisper to another, one day, when Wei Wuxian had passed him with a cheerful ‘Lan Zhan, I’ll meet you at the library! I forgot my notes!’ and Lan Wangji had replied with a sigh.
He did not know what was happening again. What was happening to him – the inexplicable pressure of something flapping between his ribs like a hummingbird in a cage was not anything he’d ever felt before. This was new, in a terrifying way that made Lan Wangji unsure of his standing.
He’d always been very good at everything he did. Whether it be with a natural talent of careful studying, most things felt effortless after a while.
Lan Wangji could not imagine this ever feeling effortless.
But he took the good things, took bad things, supervised Wei Wuxian in the library as he’d promised. Sometimes he wondered whether he should take these thoughts and examine them further, make deliberate room for them inside himself.
One look at the glimmering mischief in Wei Wuxian’s eyes was enough to disabuse him of that notion. This – breaking through the walls of others, this sense of familiarity, was clearly something this person awakened in each person he came in contact with. Lan Wangji was not special. He would not let himself believe that.
-
Among thousands of other rules, eavesdropping was also forbidden. While getting somewhat laxer with the rules when it came to others, Lan Wangji did still refer to them as his own base moral system.
Rules could always be interpreted differently, and more value should be put on some rules over others. Eavesdropping, however, had never been a rule he’d thought to question, not to mention break.
Yet somehow he found himself stuck in place when he heard the voices of Sizhui and Wei Wuxian carrying through the field. They were surrounded by rabbits – Lan Wangji’s rabbits – and talking.
“--next to someone! Honestly, you have no idea how much I roll around in my sleep! Someone should tie me to the bed,” Wei Wuxian whined sorrowfully.
Everything in Lan Wangji’s head blanched at the comment for a moment, before he was able to drag his mind from the track it had miserably, unexpectedly fallen into.
“Please, Senior Wei, do not make the joke you are going to make,” Sizhui replied, voice pained.
He was answered with a loud guffaw. “Sizhui, Sizhui, what kind of a joke are you thinking, hm?”
“Senior Wei,” Sizhui chastised, though there was a clear embarrassment in his voice. This only bolstered Wei Wuxian, who continued on laughing for a while.
After a while, the laughter died down. There was a moment of silence before Sizhui said: “This must be very difficult for you.”
Wei Wuxian looked at the other, surprise evident on his face. The expression gentled. “Worrying over little old me? Silly Sizhui. Don’t you know that I’m going to make everything alright again in no time?”
“I do not doubt that for a second,” Sizhui replied, voice just as gentle. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel sad about it now. It must be hard.”
“Aiyah, how did your Hanguang-jun raise you into such a kind little Lan? Old man Qiren would have just told me to stop moping and fix this. No time for playing desolate maiden, and such.”
“Senior Wei,” came the admonishment.
Wei Wuxian sighed. “Sure, it was bad at first. But it’s better now, you know? If I’m being honest, it’s kind of funny. It’s like I’m back being fifteen, pulling pigtails again and waiting for a reaction.”
Sizhui huffed a small laugh. “Is this not how you always act?”
“Agh! Insulted by my dearest Sizhui, my pride and joy, my–”
Lan Wangji, suddenly struck with the fact that he was listening in on a private conversation, turned around and left as quietly as he dared. He’d self-assign a punishment. Standing on his hand, disciple paddle, anything physical that would momentarily distract himself from the fact that he’d only just heard his private thoughts of Wei Wuxian confirmed.
That he was being teased for amusement, for nothing but a funny reaction.
Lan Wangji refused the hurt that was trying to settle over his chest. Instead, he headed to the Hanshi, desperately wishing for a distraction his brother might offer and allowed himself the indignity of gritted teeth while leaving behind the meadow filled with Wei Wuxian’s laughter.
-