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A Child's Wish

Summary:

Wei Ying's entire life changes when he discovers a five-year-old Lan Zhan wandering near the Burial Ground.
It's not Jiang friendly, especially Jiang Cheng. What else is new? If you don't like this, please don't read. Thanks.

Notes:

I know. I'm supposed to work on other stories. This one crept in and haunted me. I wrote all night. Now, I'm sleepy. Oh, my eyes want to fall out. I shall go back to the others now. Well, not now. Tomorrow. After a good night's sleep.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

‘No. No, no, no, no!’ Wei Ying thought over and over as he ran up the path to the Wen settlement with the child in his arms. Wen Qing would know what to do. She had to. He rushed past everyone and didn’t stop until he reached the back of his cave. Once he had nowhere else to go, he held the boy closer, his chubby cheek resting against Wei Ying’s shoulder.

Well, at least he was asleep. That was a plus. 

“Wei Wuxian,” Qing-jie snapped, coming toward him with her stern, doctor face on. “Don’t tell me you’ve started stealing children just because a-Yuan asked for siblings.”

“No!” he said hotly, offended by the accusation, though it wasn’t a bad idea. He could rescue a few street urchins - no! They could barely feed themselves. He slumped down on his stone bed, the pile of white robes making his little companion slippery in his grip.

He lay the child down and fixed his forehead ribbon so it didn’t fall off. His little Lan sniffled and put his plump hands under his cheek but didn’t wake. Oh, gods, he was an absolute angel. 

Her eyes widened as she came closer and took in the robes and ribbon. “A Lan? Wei Wuxian, if the sects think we’re kidnapping their children, they will destroy us. Where did this child come from, and why is he with you? I know you miss your Lan Zhan, but this is no way to get him to visit!”

Wei Ying stared at her, his brain trying to work out just what she was implying. “No! I didn’t kidnap anyone. Why? Why would you even think that?” he squealed.

“Then why is he here?” she squealed back.

He rubbed at the pressure building in his forehead. “Okay. I was in town trying to sell those damn radishes, and this old couple was trying to get some cultivators to help them. But they didn’t have any money, so none of those stuck-up jerks would even listen.”

She waved a hand in an impatient motion. “So you offered to help. I get that, but…”

Grabbing her shoulders, he met her fierce gaze. “Don’t, don’t interrupt. I’m freaked out enough as it is, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, though her scowl deepened.

“Okay?” he repeated just to be sure.

“Yes, yes. Okay. Just keep going,” she said with a huff and a roll of her eyes.

He blew out a quick breath before continuing. “Okay, so they were having difficulty with this entity, who was destroying their farm and their crops. I offered to help and followed them back to their home. It didn’t take much to get rid of the Yao, though I had to chase the damn thing through the forest until I finally cornered it. Once it was dead, I sat on a log to rest for a moment when this child came wandering through the brush, dragging a train of white behind him.”

She blinked at him. 

“It’s the truth! I don’t know where he came from or why it happened, but…” he turned his attention to the sleeping angel and brushed a strand of hair from his face… “but I think it might be Lan Zhan.” He added this last part softly, his heart turning to mush at the thought.

“That’s impossible.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, well, we both know impossible is my life, but the forehead ribbon is his, and he’s the only Lan I know who has golden eyes.”

Her lips pressed in a thin line as she took a moment to check on him. “Well, it’s a curse,” she said with a resigned exhale. “Whatever happened, your Lan is now about five. He still has his core, but only a small portion of it is accessible. Which is good because his adult core would probably kill him.”

Wei Ying gasped, his whole body going numb. A world without Hanguang-jun was unthinkable. There would be no light without the light-bearer. “He - he’ll be alright, though, right?” 

“I think so, yes, but I don’t know how long this curse will last or how to break it.” She turned her face to him, worry lining her features. “We’re going to need help with this one.”

He wove his fingers together, clenching them tightly against each other. “I know. I know. The problem is, who do we ask? I can’t go to Jiang Cheng. He hates Lan Zhan - and me.”

“Who doesn’t he hate,” she said with a snort.

He ignored that, unwilling to dwell there. “Shijie can’t help. She has enough going on, and the Peacock is a definite no. The best thing would be to go to the Lans, but we can’t go directly.”
“No, we can’t. They’ll probably accuse you of cursing him.”

“Nie Huaisang could get a message to Lan Xichen, I guess,” he said, though the thought of Nie Mingjue finding out terrified him. “As long as he doesn’t tell his brother anything, that is.” He pressed his hands to his face. “Aiya, why is my life like this?”

“Because you’re an idiot who doesn’t know how to not help.”

He glared at her. “Thanks. That’s helpful.”

The little boy sat up, his golden eyes blinking as he placed his tiny hands on his lap. 

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked, part of him hoping he was wrong.

“Mn,” the child Lan said with a serious face.

Wei Ying couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, yes. That’s him. Ahh, he’s so cute! I just want to squeeze those round cheeks!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t. Cheeks are not for squeezing.”

Wei Ying clenched his hands to his chest. “Ahhh. Unfair, unfair!”

“No shouting.”

Even Wen Qing grinned at that. “Wow. A Lan is a Lan no matter what age.”

The miniature Hanguang-jun managed to stand up on the stone bed, the robes gathered in bunches in his arms and pooling around his feet. “This one is Lan Zhan of Cloud Recesses. May I know who you are and where I am?” he asked with a bow that almost sent him toppling over the edge.

Smothering a laugh, Wei Ying bowed back. “This one is Wei Ying, courtesy Wei Wuxian.” He gestured to Qing-jie. “And this is Healer Wen Qing. You are in our home.” He paused as he caught the doubtful expression he gave as his gaze shifted around the cave. “Yeah, I know. It’s not that impressive, but we make do.”

“What is the last thing you remember?” Wen Qing asked in a tender voice.

Wei Ying stared at her. Why couldn’t she talk to him like that? He might listen more if she did. He sent himself an internal scowl. No, he wouldn’t. 

Lan Zhan’s stomach grumbled. “Hungry.”

“Go get him something,” Wen Qing ordered, but Lan Zhan grabbed Wei Ying’s robes.

“Stay.” That beautiful, round face stared up at him with shining eyes.

“Okay,” Wei Ying said without hesitation. Whatever his Lan wanted, his Lan would get as long as he didn’t cry. If he cried, Wei Ying was done for. 

Wen Qing muttered something under her breath as she turned away and stalked out of the cave. 

 


 

Nie Huaisang didn’t know, he really didn’t. Out of all the things he expected to happen in a day, having the Ghost General show up outside the window of his room. 

“Ah, should I yell for help or is this a friendly visit?” he asked after squealing in fright. He clutched his fan against his chest and backed away a step. All he wanted to do was let in a light, evening breeze, not a talking fierce corpse.

“I’m s-sorry, N-nie-gongzi,” the Ghost General said, his head bowed, “for d-disturbing you. I have a m-message for you.” He held out a piece of folded paper.

Huaisang relaxed, a part of him enjoying the experience of having one of the undead afraid of him. Another part of him grieved at the state of Wen Ning. The boy was only a couple of years younger than him; now he would never grow older. 

He managed what he hoped was a kind smile and took the note. “Thank-you, Wen-didi.”

His visitor looked at him with surprise or his face froze that way. It was hard to tell. “N-nie-gongzi, you d-don’t… you s-shouldn’t…”

Huaisang patted his hand, ignoring the iky cold of his skin. “Come in and sit down, Ning-di, unless you have to go.”

The boy bowed a few times. “I s-should s-soon. It’s n-not s-safe - m-me b-being a Wen - and d-dead.”

Well, Huaisang couldn’t argue with either of those statements. “Don’t worry. Zewu-jun is visiting. Da-ge rarely bothers me when Er-ge is here.”

This made his visitor even more nervous, his hands twisting together as he shifted from foot to foot. “I, haa, I sh-shouldn’t stay too long. P-please r-read M-master Wei’s message and r-respond.”   

Huaisang gave up and unfolded the paper. He clicked his tongue as he tried to decipher Wei Wuxian’s writing. However, he froze as he caught the words emergency, Lan Zhan, and help.

“Ning-di, what does this mean? Is someone hurt? Is Lan Wangji attacking? Is Wei-xiong capable of writing clearly?”

“Nie-g-gongzi, M-master Wei found S-second M-master Lan w-wandering around n-near Yiling. H-he, h-he, S-second M-master Lan was, is…”

If the man wasn’t already a corpse, Huaisang thought he might fade away right there. Whatever was going on, was serious. Wei Wuxian never asked for help. “What about Lan-gongzi? Is he all right? Is he hurt?”

“H-he’s five.”

Huaisang blinked. What? “He’s five. What does that mean?”

“S-somehow he’s b-been turned into a five-year-old.” He lowered his flat hand to knee height to emphasise how small the Lan was now. “And th-they don’t kn-know how to help him yet. And th-they don’t want to g-get b-blamed or at-tacked for his situation.”

Lan Wangji, the honourable Huangung-jun was a tiny child in the Burial Grounds with the Yiling Patriarch and the Wen Remnants. Oh, dear.

“Oh.” Huaisang sat on the edge of his daybed. What could they do? “Why didn’t you just bring him here?”

“He w-won’t go.”

“He won’t go.”

“No.”

“Oh.” Okay. “He’s five. Couldn’t you just,” he made the motions of picking up a child, “pluck him from the ground and carry him?”

The fierce corpse’s agitation grew. “T-tried. W-won’t let g-go of M-master Wei. C-cries and c-cries. Jiejie s-says such emotional t-turmoil m-might hurt him since his c-core is st-still st-strong, b-but sealed off.”

Huaisang tapped his folded fan against his cheek. “So, one of the strongest cultivators in the world is five, but has the same core strength as his adult self. However, this core is sealed away so that it doesn’t hurt him. Is that it?”

“Yes.” He shook his head, his messy hair flying about. “No. S-sort of. It’s m-mostly sealed off, but w-we don’t kn-know why.”

“The Yiling Patriarch and the most talented doctor in generations don’t know why and they’ve come to me for help?” Why him? What did they expect him to do?

“T-too dangerous to go to anyone else. N-need S-sect Leader Lan.”

Oh. Okay. Now he understood. They didn’t come to him for his brains or any other skill they thought he might have, but because he had access to Lan Wangji’s brother. The only problem was that left him having to convince Zewu-jun to go to the Burial Ground without an army to take back his cursed brother. 

“Okay, Ning-ge. I’ll do my best,” he said with a resigned sigh. 

The Ghost General bowed again and disappeared into the growing dark. It was amazing how quiet the undead Wen could move. Huaisang shivered at the thought of one so deadly being so stealthy. 

With a small whimper, he left his room in search of his brother and the Lan sect leader. All the way to his da-ge’s private receiving room, he worked on what he was going to say to the pair. Lately, his brother’s mood was erratic at best, downright dangerous at worst. They had already argued many times over the situation with Wei Wuxian and the Wens. This latest issue wasn’t going to help matters. 

The soft sound of a guqin floated down the hall. Good. Da-ge was always more reasonable after Xichen-ge played for him. He entered the room without knocking, not wanting to interrupt. His brother sat across from Er-ge, his legs crossed and hands on his knees.  

When the song ended, Huaisang slipped in and knelt between the two. His brother raised an eyebrow at him. Great, he’s already suspecting something. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, Zewu-jun, you wanna take a trip to Yiling with me? A fierce corpse told me your brother is a five-year-old.’

No, that wasn’t a good way to die. 

“Huaisang, what is it?” Da-ge demanded with a growl.

Oh, perfect. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring, natural smile. “I was wondering if Er-ge would come see a new piece I was working on. I am having a problem with the perspective, and I was hoping you would be able to help me.”

He ignored his da-ge’s clenched jaw and tense posture and focused pleading eyes on Lan Xichen. Whatever silent conversation his two brothers had between them worked in his favour because Da-ge waved them away.

“Go on. I have work to do.”

The disappointment in his voice and expression poked Huaisang where he hid the hurt from his brother’s lack of acceptance. Why couldn’t he just love him the way he was? 

“Shall we?” 

Er-ge’s ever polite voice called him back to the present. He nodded and rose, waving his fan rapidly as they went in the direction of his rooms. Halfway there, he caught Xichen’s arm after ensuring they were alone.

“Er-ge, I’m afraid I have dragged you away under false pretences.”

The sect leader’s eyebrows rose as a playful smile tugged at his lips. “Oh? What are you up to now, a-Sang?”

He made a dismissive motion with his fan. “Unfortunately, it’s not me. Well, it is me, but only in a messenger capacity.”

“You have a message for me?” Er-ge asked, his expression turning perplexed. “From whom?”

“Well.” He giggled nervously and leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “See, I am relying on the Lan ability to keep from overreacting, unlike the Nie ability to attack with full force.”

“Huaisang, you’re confusing me. Who is the message from, and what is it?”

“Do you promise to trust me and keep this between the two of us and not panic?”

The man gave a tolerant sigh and put on an enduring air. “Huaisang, I promise I trust you. However, I can’t promise to keep anything between us when I don’t know what it is. But I can promise you that I will not panic.”

Well, that would have to do. “I’m afraid Ji-xiong might be in need of your assistance.”

“Wangji? Your message was from Wangji? Where is he? What is it?”

Sure, the Lan wasn’t going to panic; his eyes just grew two sizes out of habit. “He’s in Yiling.”

Okay, now his er-ge turned pale. Perfect. No panic, just internal terror. Well, that was the Lan way. 

“He’s safe. He just needs a little help with a curse.”

“He’s been cursed?” Xichen-ge exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch.

Huaisang winced. This wasn’t going well. “Just a little. Anyway, he needs you to go to the Burial Ground and help him.”

Xichen-ge’s grip tightened on his sword. “Thank-you, a-Sang, I will leave right away. Please, apologise to Mingjue for me,” he said breathlessly, his mind already on his brother. He strode away in a billow of white. 

Huaisang shook his head. Maybe he should have explained things better. Oh, well. He’ll find out soon enough. 

 




Lan Xichen landed before the Burial Ground and dismounted quickly to have his sword in hand. He had never flown so fast before, and was a little out of breath. His thoughts were all over the place, picturing all sorts of scenarios, each one worse than the next. 

No, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t hurt his brother. Wangji loved him. Why couldn’t the frustrating boy see that? Why couldn’t he just repent and return to the righteous path? 

All the discussions he had with a-Yao rose in his thoughts. The power had twisted his mind. He was building an army. He wanted to take Wen Ruohan’s place and had taken the Wen cultivators to start his own sect. 

Tentatively, he put out a hand and touched the wards. They were powerful, layered with resentful energy. He shivered. This was wrong. It was all wrong, unnatural. 

A corpse in black appeared before him, his eyes surprisingly clear. His whole posture relaxed with relief. 

“Oh, Zewu-jun, t-thank-you for c-coming.” He bowed low.

Xichen stared; a stuttering, humble, talking fierce corpse just bowed to him. What had Wei Wuxian done?

“Where is my brother?” he asked, worry pushing aside his manners. 

The dead Wen held out his hand and let him through the barrier. 

“He’s w-with W-wei-xiong. I w-will take you t-to him,” he said with another bow. 

“Thank-you,” Xichen replied, gathering his wits back together. He followed the fierce corpse in silence, too many thoughts running through his head to speak. This had to be the Ghost General, but he was supposed to be cruel and deadly. Right. More like timid and gentle. Oh, Wei Wuxian, why couldn’t you live a simple life? 

When they entered the Wen camp, he wasn’t certain what to do. Nothing was as he expected. Elderly men and women in rags toiled in gardens amid the bones of the dead. Had the Yiling Patriarch taken them as slaves? If so, where were the other cultivators? Who watched over them to make certain they didn’t escape? 

Up ahead, a few women wove baskets and mended clothing around a small fire. Though they were barely more than skin and bones, they seemed happy, almost content. That didn’t make sense. The industrious group tensed as he came closer, huddling together and averting their gaze as though they were frightened of him. 

People rarely looked at him with indifference, let alone fear. He didn’t know what to do with that. His usual reassuring smile only made them scurry away. 

“Zewu-jun,” the Ghost General called, gesturing to the dark entrance to a cave.

He stepped forward, drawn by the unexpected laughter of children. Was it true? Did Wei Wuxian really take children from their families for his own agenda? Were those poor women ones he kidnapped for his own pleasure? 

Despite a-Yao’s worries, he always took those comments as unsubstantiated rumours. Now, he wasn’t sure. Did Wangji step into something dark and fall prey to the Yiling Patriarch’s evil? 

Tentatively, he moved forward into the dimly lit cave. A desk made of rough wood stood against one wall, papers scattered over the top. Farther on, someone had made a bed out of a slab of rock, using coarse grass to soften the surface and a tattered blanket to keep away the cold. 

Nearby, sat the thin, smiling form of Wei Wuxian and two small children on the chilly stone floor. He seemed to be telling them a story, enchanting the boys with his tale. One of them waved a grass butterfly in the air while the other clung to Wei Wuxian’s robes. Despite the coarse robes of brown and grey, Xichen recognised the chubby-cheeked angel with the golden eyes.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasped, nearly falling to his knees.

“Ah, Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian yelped, scrambling to his feet. The other child ducked in behind him, peeking out with curious interest.

His didi rose with his usual grace and bowed. Was he always so solemn? Yes, though he became even more stoic after their mother died. He knelt down and opened his arms wide. “Didi.”

“Xiong-zhang.”

Oh, no. He hated hearing such a proper title from such a tiny child. “Won’t you hug me, a-Zhan?”

Wei Wuxian nudged him forward, and a-Zhan glanced up at him - for reassurance, permission? - before stepping forward. His didi wrapped his pudgy arms around him, and Xichen embraced him with an aching heart. Xichen’s first instinct was to leap onto his sword and fly back to Cloud Recesses as fast as he could. 

“Xian-gege, is a-Zhan going away?” the other boy asked, his bottom lip quivering at the thought. 

The demonic cultivator scooped him off the floor and petted his hair. “I’m afraid so, a-Yuan. Lan Zhan belongs with his family. They’ll be able to help him.”

The words were kind and understanding, more like a loving parent than an evil monster. 

A-Zhan squirmed out of his embrace and ran over to Wei Wuxian, wrapping his arms around his leg. “Staying.”

The sigh from the other man was heavy with exasperation. “Lan Zhan, we talked about this.”

Xichen’s didi buried his face in Wei Wuxian’s robes and held on tighter. “Staying.”

He groaned and sent a look of apology to Xichen. “I’m afraid I don’t know what happened, Zewu-jun. I found him in a forest not far from here. I had just gotten rid of a Yao for these farmers when he came stumbling out of the trees like,” he shrugged and waved a hand toward a-Zhan, “this.”

“Why didn’t you take him to Cloud Recesses?” 

Wei Wuxian gave a sharp and sour laugh. “Right. The most hated man in the cultivation world shows up before the righteous Lan sect with their de-aged second jade, and they’ll just invite him in for tea. Yeah, I can really see your uncle doing that.”

“He took him here because he thought I might be able to help him,” a young woman said as she came in behind them. “Welcome, Zewu-jun. I am Wen Qing,” she said with a bow. “I am sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, but I had an emergency in Yiling to take care of.”

Xichen blinked and bowed back, surprised by the proud woman with hollow cheeks and robes too big for her thin frame. 

“Please, have a seat. My brother is bringing tea. It’s mint; I found a patch growing wild on the way back from Yiling. I’m afraid we don’t have much else to offer.” She gestured to a low table surrounded by crude cushions.

He managed a small nod and knelt beside her. Wei Wuxian and the children sat on the other side, neither boy letting go of him. When a-Zhan crawled into the demonic cultivator’s lap, Xichen had to resort to a tight smile to keep himself together. 

The Ghost General came in with a tray which he put down on the table with another bow. 

“Thank-you, a-Ning,” she said and proceeded to pour the tea. 

Her brother bowed again and scurried out of the cave. Xichen exhaled and rubbed at his forehead. He took the coarse, clay cup she offered him and drank, grateful for the refreshing, clean liquid. 

“Zewu-jun, it’s not that I wanted to keep anyone from their family,” Wei Wuxian began, his expression frustrated and cautious. “But he won’t let go of me.”

“Mn,” a-Zhan responded with a smug look. “Wei Ying mine.”

Oh, Xichen knew that stubborn expression.      

Wen Qing stifled a giggle behind her hand. “Sorry. He’s just so…”

“Stubborn,” Wei Wuxian said with a frown. “I don’t understand it. He hates me.”

“Do not!” the child insisted, his face flushing. “Love Wei Ying.”

Oh. Xichen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“So you keep saying,” the man replied, his own gaunt face turning red. 

A-Zhan placed his tiny hands on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks, staring into his bloodshot eyes with all the intensity of his former adult self. “Wei Ying doesn’t love me? Wei Ying doesn’t want me?”

The tears and the wavering voice nearly made Xichen insist on the two of them marrying after they healed his brother. 

“Of course, I do,” the Yiling Patriarch replied, his own voice cracking. “Lan Zhan is my soulmate.”

The tiny Hanguang-jun wrapped his arms around the fallen cultivator’s neck. “Good.”

“Xian-gege and a-Zhan love a-Yuan too?” the other boy asked, holding tight to both of them. 

“Mn. Love a-Yuan,” came the muffled answer from a-Zhan.

Wei Wuxian huffed a small chuckle. “Xian-gege loves both of you very much.”

“As you can see, the issue isn’t just the de-aging of your brother,” Wen Qing said, turning Xichen’s attention back to her. 

“We haven’t been able to detach him from Wei Wuxian without making him upset. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. I’ve dealt with temper tantrums and crying children before. However, when your brother was de-aged, his core retained the same strength as his adult self. Fortunately, most of it is sealed off; otherwise, it would probably kill him. Unfortunately, a severe emotional response might cause his golden core to overwhelm him.”

Stunned by her forthright delivery about his brother’s situation, he gasped. He managed to get his fingers on his didi’s wrist to check him over. The meridians were fine and his core, oh. His core was there, as strong as ever, but encased in a shield that only allowed for a small part of it to function. He sank back on his heels. 

“You’re afraid distressing him might cause his core to overpower the seal.”

“Yes,” she said, her manner grim and cool. “A golden core that powerful in a child so young would tear him apart.”

Before he could respond, her brother rushed back in, wringing his hands together.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt, but we have more visitors.”

All the kindness fell from Wei Wuxian’s face. “Who?”

The fierce corpse’s gaze flicked toward Xichen. “Ah, Sect Leader Nie Mingjue and Young Master Nie Huaisang.”

Xichen took a deep breath and rose. “If you don’t mind, I will go see them,” he said to the Yiling Patriarch, who was struggling to stand while holding the two clinging boys.

“How about we all go,” he replied and nudged a-Yuan with his chin. “Hey, how would you like a-Zhan’s gege to carry you?”

The boy’s eyes lit up and he reached out for Xichen. “Yes, please.”

Unable to resist, he took the child and propped him on his hip. As he did so, he noticed the Yiling Patriarch’s free hand go to the dizi tucked in his belt. So this wasn’t a generous offer of trust. Well, it made sense. After all, Mingjue never hid his hatred of all Wens. 

 


 

Wei Ying didn’t know what to do as he found himself completely at the mercy of a tiny Lan Zhan. The pint-sized Lan took Chenqing from him, not to chew on like a-Yuan, but to keep him from playing. How was he supposed to protect himself when his soulmate insisted on a pouty, expression of disapproval?

With a sharp exhale of exasperation, he guided Lan Xichen down the path to the Burial Ground entrance. The smug satisfaction on child Hanguang-jun's face made him chuckle.This one was hard on his heart.     

On the other side of the wards, Sect Leader Nie Mingjue paced, an impatient bull ready to charge. Behind him, Nie Huaisang hid behind his fan. 

“Xichen!” Nie Mingjue shouted, resentful energy swirling around him. 

What the hells? He had only been around the robust leader a couple of times during the Sunshot Campaign, and he was too focused on dealing with his own resentful energy to notice anyone else’s. 

“Calm down, a-Jue. I’m fine,” Lan Xichen told him while a-Yuan stared at him with wide eyes.

“He’s big,” the boy whispered in amazement. 

“That he is,” Xichen answered with amusement.

A-Yuan patted him on the shoulder. “Down, please.”

Why the Lan sect leader obeyed, Wei Ying couldn’t say, but his child was wrapped around Nie Mingjue’s leg before he could object.

“Are you a giant?” he asked, peering up at the confused man held captive by two little arms firmly attached to his calf.

Behind him, Huaisang laughed in delight. Ah, what a mess. 

“A-Yuan, come back here,” Wei Ying ordered, exasperated with the whole situation. “What did I tell you about latching onto people you don’t know?”

Lan Zhan pecked him on the cheek. “It okay, Wei Ying.”

A whimper snuck out of Wei Ying. All he wanted to do was plop onto the ground and cry. Instead, he opened the wards just enough to let them through. “Fine, fine. Sure, come on in. Why not? The only way the day can get any weirder is if Jin Guangshan shows up, and there’s no way I’m letting him in no matter how cute you children are.”

His baby Lan’s face scrunched up in distaste. “No Jin piggie.”

“A-Zhan,” Xichen scolded, but was met with a defiant scowl. 

Nie Mingjue limped forward, his attention split between them and the snot-nosed monkey-child stuck to his leg. “Xichen, I-” his gaze flipped from a-Yuan to the Lan leader and back- “I, ah! I- kid, you’re cute and all, but let go.”

Lan Xichen removed the cling-monster from his leg and sat him on the Nie leader’s shoulders instead. A-Yuan squealed with delight as he attached himself to the man’s head. Whatever objection Nie Mingjue had was lost in resignation at the delighted grin Xichen gave him. 

Clearly amused, Nie Huaisang sidled up to Wei Ying. Lan Zhan gave the other sect heir a stern glare before snuggling closer to Wei Ying’s neck. 

“Aw, a-Zhan, are we not friends?” he asked with a pout. 

“Not a-Zhan, Second Young Master Lan,” came the firm declaration from the stoic child hiding his face in Wei Ying’s hair.

“Aiya, come on. We might as well head up to the settlement,” he said, amused and delighted with Lan Zhan’s actions, but frustrated with the whole situation at the same time. “But fair warning, any of you try to harm any of us, and you…”

Whatever else he wanted to say was covered up by a little hand covering his mouth. 

“Too loud. Sleepy.”

Wei Ying gave up, stomping away as the others snickered behind him. Even Nie Mingjue huffed something like a laugh. 

When they reached their humble village, Wei Ying rocked a sleeping Lan Zhan in his arms while a shocked Nie Mingjue and Huaisang took in the state of their home and its occupants. The Nie leader’s frown grew deeper and deeper while tears threatened to spill out of Huaisang in waves. 

Honestly, what were these people expecting? An Imperial palace? 

Qing-jie showed up at his side, arms crossed over her chest. “This can’t be good.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’d like to disagree, but I have no idea anymore.”

 




Nie Mingjue paced the cave floor, the frustration and anger stirring in him getting stronger with every pass. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He prided himself on his belief in justice; yet, was this justice? Had he really allowed the slaughtering of innocents?

Over by his brother, the tiny boy was trying to cheer him up by telling him a story about the grass butterfly in his tiny hand. A tentative smile of encouragement adorned his innocent face.

Oh, gods, what had he done? 

He turned his attention to the Yiling Patriarch. After all, this was the enemy of the cultivation world. The boy may be innocent, but this man wasn’t. 

Wei Wuxian sat on a rough, stone bed with a child Wangji in his arms. The cursed brother of Xichen, supposed sworn enemy of the demonic cultivator, had his chubby fists curled tightly in Wei Wuxian’s ragged robes even though he was fast asleep. Meanwhile, the supposed evil villain gazed down at him with helpless adoration. 

Damn, this wasn’t a man, this was a boy - a half-starved one at that. Even that sentient fierce corpse was timid. Timid! How the hells was he supposed to deal with a bashful, undead person who only wanted to serve him tea?

At least, the healer Wen scowled at him. He could deal with that, but was she an enemy? She didn’t help during the war. Well, okay, according to Wei Wuxian, she saved him and Jiang Wanyin, and her brother - the fierce corpse in the corner with his head bowed in the hope that no one would notice him - rescued the Jiang leader and recovered his parents’ bodies, so they could have a proper burial. Wasn’t that the Jiangs problem? Then again, Jiang Wanyin  denounced his former head disciple for protecting these people. 

Ahhh, why did things have to be so complicated? What happened to black and white, right and wrong? How did he discern what was justice in the midst of such a mess? 

It was bad enough Xichen convinced him to swear brotherhood with that Meng Yao. What was he supposed to do with this?

“Wei Wuxian, where is my brother’s sword?”

The question caught Mingjue’s attention. He searched around the cave, but didn’t see the distinctive blade of Hanguang-jun. In fact, he didn’t see much of anything except piles of paper and bits of - whatever. He frowned at the clutter. It’s all junk. The great and fearsome Yiling Patriarch was living in a cave full of rubbish with a rag-tag group of elderly men and women and a child. Everyone except the kid was starving, working themselves to death to survive in a land for the dead. Just how bad was the Jin camp if they preferred being here?

The fearsome Patriarch donned a sheepish expression and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aiya, I’m sorry. I was so worried about Lan Zhan, I didn’t even think about Bichen. He didn’t have it with him when he found me. It’s probably still wherever this happened.” He gestured a bony hand toward Wangji. 

Xichen’s usual, polite smile dimmed. “I don’t suppose you know where that is?”

“I have a general idea,” Wei Wuxian admitted with more helplessness than Mingjue expected. “At least, I can take you back to where I found him.”

Mingjue’s favourite Lan met his gaze with the furrowed brow of someone torn between several paths of action. Do they go hunting for Bichen and the source of Wangji’s curse? Do they take the boy back to Cloud Recesses to have their healers check on him? Do they deal with this damn Wen/Yiling Patriarch problem? Or do they do something altogether different?

He was mildly surprised Xichen hadn’t suggested they get Meng Yao involved. No.That thought was bitter and uncharitable. 

“No. Not yet,” Xichen said finally. “First we should take Wangji back to Cloud Recesses. I want to make sure he’s safe and have our healers check him. There may even be something in our library that may help.”

The Wen healer and Wei Wuxian exchanged a look of doubt and fear. 

“Ah, as much as I want to help Lan Zhan, so far any time I’ve tried to separate from him, he’s gotten upset. And there’s no way I’m going to Cloud Recesses - no offence,” Wei Wuxian told them with an uneasy bow to soften his words.

How one such as him could consider his comment as anything other than an offence, Mingjue couldn’t understand. As talented as the boy was, he wasn’t a sect leader or even a member of a sect anymore. That didn’t even take into account his use of resentful energy. Sure, his sect used resentful energy with their sabres, but that was beast energy, not human. There was a difference, not that he wanted to explain that to the other sects. It was a Nie sect secret like the Lan musical cultivation and whatever secret the Jin hid in the belly of their tower. 

He pushed aside the image of Huaisang’s disappointed look at his thoughts. His little brother would call him a hypocrite if he knew. An ache twinged in his gut. One day, he would have to share with Huaisang the controversial side to Nie cultivation. Hopefully, by then the issue of demonic cultivation will no longer cause others to possibly question the cultivation of resentful beast energy. 

Mingjue shifted his gaze from the young man trying to present an image of someone not falling apart. He was dangerous. The cultivation of the resentful energy of dead humans was dangerous. The Wen were dangerous. He wanted to hold onto those thoughts. They were clear cut, simple conclusions to act upon. At least, they were until Mingjue came face to face with what that looked like beyond the generalised statements. He wanted to claim that they were complicit because they did nothing to stop Wen Ruohan. 

Then again, what were they supposed to do? If they stood against him, they all would die at his hands. If they didn’t, they faced death at the hands of his enemies. These people, these broken farmers, elders, and starving healers did not mean anything to anyone else except a determined young woman, a terrified fierce corpse, a child, and one confusing demonic cultivator, who seemed more interested in raising radishes than corpses. 

What was he supposed to do now?

Huaisang tugged on Mingjue’s sleeve, his wide eyes glistening with tears. “Da-ge, Er-ge, please. We have to fix this.”

Xichen had locked his gaze on his brother’s tiny form, sleeping in Wei Wuxian’s arms, his little fists securely fastened to the dark robes. That child wasn’t going anywhere. 

Mingjue turned to the Wen healer. As proud as she held herself, as fiery as her eyes met his, fatigue and stress clung to her like shadows. 

“Are you absolutely certain Wangji’s in no danger aside from the issue with his core?” 

“Yes,” Wen Qing said, facing him with her chin raised as though she dared him to challenge her.

Mingjue pursed his lips, keeping in the retort on his tongue from escaping. He sniffed and put a hand on Xichen’s shoulder. “Let’s get his sword before heading to Cloud Recesses. We might find more answers if we can locate where this curse occurred.”

Despite the worry in his Lan’s eyes, Xichen agreed.

 


 

Wei Wuxian wanted to punch Huaisang for bringing his brother along. Unfortunately, the cowardly Nie stayed at the Burial Ground with Wen Ning. It had taken them almost an hour of arguing to decide who would go and who would stay before they actually left. Though Sect Leader Nie was still not satisfied with leaving his little brother behind. It was a-Yuan who actually convinced him by curling up in Huaisang’s lap to show him all his drawings. Popo aided the boy by placing a gentle hand on Mingjue’s arm and reassuring him, with the kind confidence of an elderly grandmother, that Huaisang would be fine. She would take care of him. 

Cornered, Chifeng-zun gave in.

For Wei Ying, Nie Mingjue’s narrow view of justice left much to be desired. How could someone who claimed righteousness blame thousands of people for their leader’s actions? Civilians were powerless against cultivators at the best of times, let alone when they’re starving and barely able to take care of their families. 

He stared at the back of the Nie leader’s head as the man led them through the forest as though he knew where they were going. Every few minutes, Zewu-jun glanced back at him, silently asking if they were heading in the right direction. Wei Ying would nod. The path was quite clear at this point, so he just let them be the leaders society declared them to be. 

Beside him, Qing-jie shook her head, her annoyance clear on her round face. “Is it some sort of illusion from the Burial Ground or is that man soaked in resentful energy?” she whispered, frowning at the Nie.

“Oh, yeah,” Wei Ying whispered back, shifting Lan Zhan to his other hip. “He and his sabre almost rival me in resentful energy content.”

She snorted a harsh laugh. “Figures. Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He sighed, tired of the hypocrisy of the cultivation world. “Baxia, I think. From what I can tell without touching it, there’s a beast spirit inside, an angry beast spirit.”

“Hmph. In other words, demonic cultivation.”

Wei Ying ran a hand over Lan Zhan’s sleeping head. “Ah, resentful animal energy is considered borderline, but acceptable. They refuse to believe energy is energy and resentful energy does damage no matter where it comes from.”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Zhan’s little voice cut in, making Wei Ying laugh out loud. 

“Exactly, my sweet bunny. It’s all ridiculous!”

The mini Lan’s ears turned bright red and he hid his face in Wei Ying’s hair. “Like sweet bunny.”

“Hmmm? What’s that? My little Lan likes to be called sweet bunny?” 

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, squishing closer. “Like.”

Wei YIng couldn’t help cooing. Ah, this was so adorable. 

“How much farther,” Nie Mingjue demanded, halting in front of them.    

Ignoring Qing-jie’s eye roll, Wei Ying gestured a little to the left. “I found Lan Zhan just beyond those trees.” He pointed to the right. “He came from that direction.”  

Lan Zhan patted his shoulder. “Down.”

“Down,” Wei Ying chuckled. “Sure, Sweet Bunny wants down, so down Sweet Bunny goes.”

The mini Hanguang-jun tugged on his hand. “Come.”

“Ah, huh. Right.” He glanced over at Lan Xichen as he followed. “Don’t look at me; he’s in charge.”

Whatever response the older Lan gave, he missed it as his bunny pulled him along. Wow, even as a toddler, he had incredible arm strength. Or maybe Wei Ying was just that weak with his half-starved, coreless body. He could use resentful energy, but feared tainting his angelic guide. 

Ah, well. Once they had this all cleared up, his sweet bunny would go back to hating him and return to Cloud Recesses. His greatest hope in this mess was that the righteous leaders and their brothers would go back to their respective sects, leaving him and his Wen to their radishes.

“Here,” Lan Zhan said, stopping suddenly. “Bichen inside.”

Wei Ying blinked, staring ahead at a broken down temple barely visible amid the foliage. A couple of iffy looking steps led to a narrow porch with a few boards broken or missing. Bits of an old lantern swayed at the end of a chain attached to the bowed roof. A thick, wooden door hung to the side of a dark opening. With the upper hinge broken, it dangled at an odd angle and creaked in the wind.   

“Hm. Lovely place,” he said to no one. Abandoned temples rarely led to anything good. A quick check for resentful energy revealed nothing. Well, that was a good sign. At least, he hoped it was. “Why don’t you wait out here with Qing-jie?” he suggested to Lan Zhan, but was met with a stubborn shake of his adorable head.

“Go in with Wei Ying.” 

With a resigned glance toward the others, he picked up his bunny. “Fine.”
“I’ll go in first,” Nie Mingjue stated, unsheathing Baxia. “Xichen, stay by your brother.”

Wei Ying decided to not take that order personally. The Nie leader didn’t trust him, fine. He didn’t trust Nie Mingjue either. With a mocking snicker and Zewu-jun, he followed the wall of muscles into the temple. Wen Qing chose to stay back by the door, which he appreciated. He had no idea what might happen, but having her watch his back made him feel more secure. 

“Well, this place could use a good sweep,” he said as clouds of dust swirled in the rays of sunlight shining through several holes in the roof. 

The place was mostly empty except for bits of broken furniture and a broken statue. He could not tell which god or goddess the building had been dedicated to. By the confused looks on the faces of the two sect leaders, he figured they had no idea either. 

“There’s Bichen,” Lan Xichen said, rushing over to the centre of the room where the sword lay as though Lan Zhan had just placed it there. He picked up the weapon before turning to his brother. “A-Zhan, can you remember anything that happened when you were here?”

The tiny Hanguang-jun scrunched his face in thought. Ah, it was so cute, Wei Ying was sure he was going to die. 

“Bowed,” he said finally, indicating he wanted down by tugging on Wei YIng’s sleeve. Once on the ground, he shuffled over to where Bichen had been and kowtowed.

With a shrug, Wei Ying followed suit, as did the others. “Who are we bowing to,” he asked his bunny in a low voice as he knelt. 

“Celestial.”

Okay, that was a vague answer. “Yes, but which one? I don’t want to offend one by bowing to another.

“My name is not important,” said a voice that almost made Wei Ying yelp in surprise. 

Before them, a figure as bright as the sun floated. Surrounded by such a glow, he could not make out any features.

“It has been so long since anyone has used it, I have forgotten what it was.”

“Forgive the intrusion, Divine One. We are here because my brother is now a child when he was an adult just yesterday,” Sect Leader Lan said, his tone one of deep respect, though tinted with worry. 

The deity smiled, at least, Wei YIng thought it was a smile, and seemed to reach out to Lan Zhan. “Of course. This beautiful soul cleansed my temple from the demons that plagued it for many years. In return for his gift, I granted his dearest wish.”

Before anyone could stop him, Lan Zhan got up and ran over to the heavenly being. A glowing hand patted the top of his head. 

“Lan Zhan’s greatest wish was to be a child again?” Wei Ying asked Zewu-jun. Well, why not? He could grow up again without the memories of war and loss haunting him like it did so many others. Lan Xichen would probably make a better parent than Lan Qiren did, hopefully. Still, something inside Wei Ying ached at the loss of his soulmate. 

Who was he kidding? He lost Lan Zhan a long time ago. Nothing could change that. He had no golden core to keep him on the wide road or help him cultivate to immortality. That was Hanguang-jun’s path, and he deserved it. No, his bunny would go back to Cloud Recesses, and Wei Ying would never see him again. If he lived long enough, he might get to hear rumours of the talented second jade’s amazing second childhood.

“No,” the deity answered with a laugh like the rushing of water. “His greatest wish was you.”

Wei Ying gaped at the floating figure. He rubbed the back of his neck and managed an uncomfortable chuckle. “Me? Why me?”

“The Yiling Patriarch?” barked Nie Mingjue, though with less bite than he would use speaking to a mortal. “You used Lan Wangji to lure him here and make him pay for his sins?”

Something caught in Wei YIng’s throat. Dread, it had to be dread. After all, the Nie leader made sense. He wasn’t worthy of anything else. A slender hand touched his, making him jump. Wen Qing stood beside him, her eyes burning with anger. Oh, gods, this wasn’t good. If he died, they would die.

“What sins?” the deity said, pulsing brighter. “Unlike many cultivators, his soul is clean.”

That made Nie Mingjue snort while Lan Xichen wrung his hands together. Wei Ying wanted to laugh too. After everything he did, after the fall of Lotus Pier, the deaths on his hands, abandoning his brother, everything he did to survive the Burial Ground, he had to be as black as the resentful energy keeping his body together.

Still, heavenly beings didn’t lie, did they?

“You pass judgement on him?” the deity asked with an edge. “You, who condemns the innocent while cultivating similar poison? Is your loss so much greater than his?” 

The questions made Nie Mingjue straighten his posture, a hint of fear touching his features. “No, I, uh.” He stumbled through his words until he gave up and closed his mouth.

“Immortal celestial, what is it you wish of Wei Wuxian?” Lan Xichen asked in a tight voice. 

Before the heavenly being could answer, Wen Qing stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Please, Holy One, do not hurt him. He has given up much for the sake of my family and his own. If there are any debts to pay, let me take them on.”

“Qing-jie!” Wei Ying shouted, pulling her back. “I pay for my own sins. You’ve done nothing.”

“Do not hurt Wei YIng,” Lan Zhan said, peering up at the figure. 

The fierce determination on his face almost made Wei Ying cry or laugh, he couldn’t decide which. Why were they protecting him? He would pay his own debts, just as he did with his core. 

The celestial sighed, “Did I not say his soul is clean? Why speak of debts when there are none? We of the heavenly court know the heart better than any of you. It is I who owe a debt, not Wei Ying.”

With a shake of his head, Wei Ying sprawled on the ground. Live or die, he would do it in a more comfortable position. “You said, I was Lan Zhan’s greatest wish; what did you mean by that?”

The Lan in question came over and crawled into his lap. “Wei Ying mine.”

Well, what was that supposed to mean? Did the honourable Hanguang-jun want to own him like a slave? That didn’t make sense.

“When I offered your Lan Zhan a wish, he asked for your happiness. He asked for your safety, and well-being. His desire was so great and pure, I decided to look into your life. When I saw all that you sacrificed for others, even those who used and abused you, I chose to right some grievous wrongs.”

“Okay,” Wei Ying said, though the words didn’t sound right to him. “I get Lan Zhan being great and pure, but all I’ve done all my life is fail. Are those the wrongs you plan to correct? Because that’s a long list.”

Wen Qing smacked the back of his head while Lan Zhan actually pinched him. Both of them glared at him. 

“Ow. Hey, don’t gang up on me. I’m confused enough as it is.”

“Wei Ying good,” his sweet bunny insisted, patting his cheek.

“Listen to the kid,” Wen Qing said, crossing her arms and scowling at him. 

The celestial floated closer to her. She didn’t move or change her stance. It was strange to have someone stand up for him. 

“He is family to you.”

“Yes,” she said. “He’s annoying and doesn’t listen, but he is my didi.”

“Wen Qing!” he yelped, his heart pounding. “Wen Ning is your didi.”

“So are you, Brat. You are family. Everyone thinks so. Popo, Uncle Four, all of them love you, especially a-Yuan. You’re just too stubborn and oblivious to see it.”

He stared at her. Were her eyes glistening? No, the greatest healer of their generation did not cry over someone like him.

“It hurts all of us to see how much you have suffered and lost for us. You give away your food when you’re starving. You work hard to keep us safe and alive. You cleanse the land and work to make our lives better. The debt we owe you is great, but that’s not why you are family. You’re family because under all that aggravating behaviour, you are generous, loving, and kind.

“If I had one wish, I would change everything to make your life better. I would go back to that awful day and…” 

Her words faded as she glanced toward the two sect leaders. She closed her mouth with a frustrated frown and furiously wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “I wish I never did it,” she finished in a quiet voice. 

He didn’t know what to say. It bothered him to know how much the golden core transfer hurt her. It shouldn’t have. That was his choice. Even though he questioned Jiang Cheng’s approach to leadership at times, he was the rightful heir to the Jiang sect. He could not let the Yunmeng Jiang disappear because of his mistakes. He owed them his life and his core.

“No, you don’t.”

The deity’s words startled him out of his thoughts. “What?”

“You don’t owe them your life. You were a child they took in from the streets for their own purposes. They abused you and used you, moulding you into a shield for their children.”

“They saved my life!” he insisted to ease the ache inside. Damn celestial had no right reading his mind. “Jiang Fengmian took me from the streets and gave me…”

“Gave you what: food, shelter, the basics every person deserves?” the celestial interrupted. “Do not question my view of the situation; I see more than you. They treated you like family when it suited them and like a servant when they felt like it. The boy you hold so dear thought of you as a friend when convenient to him, but never a brother. You were a marker for the dead. Jiang Fengmian and Maiden Jiang gave you enough affection to keep you from leaving, while Madame Yu beat you and Jiang Cheng was jealous of you.”

“No. No! I deserved my punishments. I didn’t listen and played pranks. I caused trouble. Jiang Cheng was sect heir. I never knew my place.”

“You were a child,” the deity insisted. 

“Stop hurting Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan shouted, his little hands curled into tight fists.

A deep sigh sent a gentle wind over them. “Sometimes, it hurts to see the truth,” she replied with a softer tone. “Wei Ying, she punished you because of her own bitterness and resentment. So many are fearful of the resentment of the dead, but they do not realise the resentment of the living is far more dangerous.”

He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, trying to shut out her words.

“They took you in and blamed you for their own faults. You were a child; you did not owe them anything, especially not your golden core.”

The gasps around him made him open his eyes. Two golden orbs stared at him, sorrow and confusion making them wet. 

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan said, placing his hands on Wei Ying’s cheeks. 

His heart nearly shattered at that. He wanted to run, but couldn’t turn away from his little Lan Zhan. 

“He needed it,” he said in a hollow tone. “He was the last of the Jiang, the sect heir. How could he rebuild Lotus Pier without a golden core?”

“He didn’t deserve it,” Wen Qing said. 

Wei Ying glared at her. How dare she say that? He wasn’t her brother.

“Don’t scowl at me, Wei Wuxian. It’s out in the open now, so I have a right to share my opinion. That brother you care for so much stabbed you, not caring whether you lived or died. He saw the people you saved and didn’t care that they were not a threat to anyone. He left you to fulfil the life debt he owes my brother and I for saving his life, for protecting him, and for retrieving the bodies of his parents for proper burial. Not once did he question what it cost us. He used us like he used you.” 

Faced with her fierce determination, he tried to back away, but she just leaned closer. 

“I saw the look of disgust he gave a-Yuan, your a-Yuan, the boy who looks up to you and adores you like you were his own father. He saw the child you love and shoved him away like he was filth. That is the man you gave your golden core to, a piece of your soul to. To this day, I regret ever agreeing to the transplant.”

“But… but he… he needed…” he choked on the rest of his sentence, the statement suddenly empty. That was just the way Jiang Cheng was. He wasn’t good with emotions and covered them up with anger. Deep inside, he was good, kind, and caring. It wasn’t his fault Wei Ying was better than him, or Uncle Jiang ignored him, or Madame Yu belittled him. Shijie didn’t really favour Wei Ying, he just took advantage of her affection because he was selfish. Right?

His chest tightened. Everything crowded in on him. This was all wrong. They were the only family he had. If they didn’t love him, who did? 

“Can you really ask that question in the presence of those by your side?” the celestial asked, and he cursed it again for invading his head. 

An ache settled behind his eyes. No, he didn’t have the right to question their affection for him. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done and over,” he said, turning from Lan Zhan’s torturous gaze. 

“That is true.”

He blinked in confusion at the heavenly being’s words. Before he could say anything a glowing warmth started in his lower dantian and gradually spread through his body. A slow burn running up his meridians made him gasp. Gulping air, he put his hand over his abdomen. 

His core was back, spinning happily inside him.

“No. No! He needs it!”

He wanted to leap to his feet and demand the celestial put it back, but Lan Zhan clung to him, hampering his ability to move. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Despite how good it felt to have that golden energy flowing through him again, guilt tore at his consciousness. 

“At least, give him one of his own, please,” he begged, bowing as best as he could with the small Lan wrapped around him.

“I might,” the deity replied with aggravating superiority. “For your sake, though, not for his. His true nature is not hidden from me. The bitterness inside him only grows as he continues down his path of resentment. Your core, that piece of you, did not appreciate its time with him. I fear it does not glow as brightly as it did for you. However, I will give him a core equal in size to the size of his kindness.”

Wei Ying wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t argue in case the deity changed its mind. Instinctively, he checked the state of his core. It was smaller, the edges chipped away as though something took bites out of it. 

Beside him, Wen Qing kept her head down, sniffling every few minutes. She was crying. She was crying and wouldn’t look at him. He hurt her. After all she did for him, he never thought about what it cost her or her brother. He really was selfish.

“Qing-jie, Wei Ying is sorry,” he said, managing a smile.

She glanced his way, her eyes red and swollen.

 He wiped her cheeks with his sleeve. “Don’t cry, Jiejie. Your didi didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You are so frustrating,” she snapped, but pulled him in for a hug. “I’m sorry too.”

Lan Zhan patted them both on the head. “Good.”

That set them both laughing. Oh, his little Lan was adorable, but he missed his big Lan too. He separated from his jiejie. “This lowly one asks for forgiveness for questioning the heavenly one’s wisdom. Though this lowly one is unworthy of such grace, this one is humbled by your generosity. However, this lowly one would appreciate it if this gracious celestial would return Lan Zhan to his proper age and size.”

“You really are a brat,” the celestial said with amusement. 

He shrugged. What else was new? 

“I’m afraid there are a couple of more issues to address before his wish is fulfilled.”

“And they are? he asked with trepidation.

The light hand extended forward and a familiar shape appeared for a moment before dissolving. “You don’t need this anymore.”

And that was that. The tiger seal was gone along with the multitude of voices that kept him company since he first held that damn sword. The silence almost hurt. He didn’t know what to think. The absolute power of the heavenly being stunned him. 

“But the Wens. How do I protect them? Yes, I can cultivate the righteous path again, but it’s not enough to keep the Burial Ground safe or protect them from Jin Guangshan.

The head of the figure turned toward the two sect leaders watching them in silent astonishment.

“Which one of you is righteous enough to take in those Wen remnants?”

The sentence hung in the air, a challenge hitting the centre of their existence. The two leaders exchanged a look before Lan Xichen licked his lips and stood straighter.

“There is a valley by Cloud Recesses where a village stood before the war. The houses need a bit of work, but the land is good, and the few remaining people are kind. If it is suitable, I would be happy to receive the Wen remnants on behalf of the Lan sect.”

“And as the leader of the Nie sect, I offer my help and protection against their enemies,” Nie Mingjue added in a gruff voice. 

Had he been crying? No. Not the unmoving, steely leader of the mighty Nie. His eyes were red from the dust. That had to be it. A giggle slipped from Wei Ying’s lips. What a softy. Too bad Huaisang wasn’t here. 

“Hmm. What do you think, Maiden Wen?”

“Is it really so easy?” she asked, her trepidation clear. “We just move to this village, and you leave us alone?”                 

“Actually, I was hoping you might be willing to assist our healers,” Lan Xichen said with a sheepish smile. 

“Perhaps,” she answered after a moment, her narrowed eyes studying him. “What about a-Ning? I can’t see the righteous Lan accepting a sentient fierce corpse in their midst.”

“Oh, don’t worry about your brother,” the deity interjected. “I already took care of him. Really, Wei Wuxian, your necromancy is a little sloppy. It’s best to leave the raising of the dead to the heavenly court.”

Wei Ying didn’t know whether to be happy or insulted. He did the best he could with what little knowledge and experience he had. Of course a god or goddess could do better. Sloppy, how rude.

“What do you mean, you already took care of him?” Qing-jie demanded, half-rising with eyes sparking of anger.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s fine. That’s not an answer,” she muttered as Wei Ying pulled her back down.

“I think we’re supposed to have a little faith,” he whispered, fearing a war between his good doctor and the deity. “Besides, I don’t think you can stab a light entity with needles.” 

She scowled at him, but sat back. “Fine, but if he’s hurt, I’m poking you full of holes.”  

Aiya, that didn’t seem fair. Then again, they were in this mess because of him. Well, actually because of Lan Zhan’s strange wish. What did his little Lan want from him?

“Well, dear healer? What will it be?” the celestial asked.

After sweeping her appraising eyes over the two sect leaders, she nodded. “If we can hammer out some details on paper, I would be more than happy and grateful to accept the offer of sanctuary and protection from the Lan sect and the Nie sect.”

“Perfect,” the celestial declared, flashing brighter. “Then I place their health and safety in the hands of the Lan and Nie. If they fail in their commitment to your family, they will incur the displeasure of the heavenly court. Is that understood?”

For a moment, Wei Ying feared the great Zewu-jun was going to faint, he was so pale. Fortunately, the man managed a yes and a proper bow. Nie Mingjue did the same with less grace. Ah, those Lans, always beautiful even when turning grey from terror. 

Lan Zhan let go of Wei Ying and stood in front of the celestial again. “Wei Ying safe?”

“As safe as I can make him within the boundaries of the rules of the heavenly court. The rest is up to you.” 

Child Lan Zhan bowed, wobbling a bit as he dipped too low. “Wangji thanks you.”

“You are welcome, Hanguang-jun.”

At these words, the ball of light grew brighter and expanded, engulfing Lan Zhan as it did so. When the room returned to normal, the deity was gone and a restored Lan Zhan stood in its place. Wei Ying squealed and turned away, flushing at the sight of a naked Hanguang-jun. Fortunately, Lan Xichen rushed forward and covered his brother with his outer robe. 

“Ah, I guess we should have brought his clothes,” Wei Ying said, and Wen Qing rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wangji, are you all right?” his brother asked, checking him over. 

Lan Zhan nodded before brushing him off to kneel beside Wei Ying. 

With the stoic Lan so close, Wei Ying found his heart doing strange things. He could not meet the other man’s intense gaze. This was too much after such a strange day.

“Wei Ying.”

The tenderness and longing in his fuddy duddy’s voice made him squirm. “Lan Zhan, you sure know how to mess with a person’s day. Not that I don’t appreciate your wish, but why me? Shouldn’t you have used such a precious gift on someone more worthy?”

“Wei Ying is worthy.” 

Ah, don’t be so earnest; his heart couldn’t take it.

“Wei Ying is kind, generous, loving.”

“Suddenly, your vocabulary grows. What happened to the boy who only said, ‘shameless’, ‘ridiculous,’ or ‘boring’? 

“Met Wei Ying. Learned new words.”

He stared a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. “See? I keep saying you’re funny, but no one believes me. What new words did you learn from me? I remember something like ‘get lost’.”

Lan Zhan took his hands. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Learned precious, longing, and love.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, trying to figure out what was happening. Why was his heart trying to leap out of his chest? Why did he like having his soulmate’s full attention on him? The man really was incredibly handsome. Those eyes were going to ruin him. 

“So, we’re friends, right?” he asked, though that didn’t seem like enough for once. “Hey, Lan Zhan, why did you cling to me so hard as a child?”

“Could not save Wei Ying as adult. Could not say the right words as adult.”

“The right words?” He freed a hand and rubbed the side of his nose, trying to remember everything. “Oh, I see. As a child you were less inhibited, so you could say how you felt without fear.”

“Mn. Could tell Wei Ying.”

“Aw, you fuddy duddy. I’ve always been your friend. You can always tell me anything.”

The intensity and adoration in those golden eyes increased, making it hard for Wei Ying to breathe.

“Not friends.”

He frowned in exasperation. “I don’t get you. If not friends, then what? Enemies? Was this all a misunderstanding, and you do hate me?”

“Do not hate Wei Ying.”

“Well, that’s good.” He went to say more when Lan Zhan lay a finger across his lips. 

“Like Wei Ying.”

“Mmm mm?”

“Fancy Wei Ying.”

He squeaked. This was too much.

“Love Wei Ying. Only Wei Ying. Can be no other.”

At this point, Wei Ying was certain he was dying. He really couldn’t take such sweetness and sincerity.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked, trying to get himself under control. 

Wen Qing smacked his shoulder. “Don’t be dense.”

“Hey, what? I’m not dense. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m trying to figure this out, okay? It’s been a rough day. It’s not like I don’t agree. I like Lan Zhan. I fancy him. I want to be with him. I want to night hunt with him for the rest of our lives. It can’t be anyone else, but him. I lov…” 

The words died on his lips as he realised what he was saying. Oh, gods. He loved Lan Zhan.

“Tell him, not me,” she snapped with a nudge to his head. 

Terrified and stunned by his own words, he stared at his Lan. “I love you,” he said, his tone soft. “I whatever you. It can only be you.” He tried to swallow, his throat and mouth dry. “But you’re Hanguang-jun and I’m the Yiling Patriarch, scourge of the cultivation world. You can’t love me.”

He closed his eyes as two warm hands cupped his face. 

“Wei Ying is Wei Ying. Wangji loves Wei Ying.” He took off his ribbon and tied it around Wei Ying’s wrist. 

Somehow, that seemed important, a symbol of something greater that he didn’t understand. A lump caught in his chest. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Lan Zhan’s. “Wei Ying loves Lan Zhan,” he whispered, though the words felt bitter. No one would accept this. Sure, cutsleeve relationships were tolerated in some sects, and they could deal with the negativity from anyone else, but demonic cultivators did not get light-bearing lords. 

“Well, looks like you have a wedding to plan,” Mingjue said, his slap to Lan Xichen’s shoulder, startling Wei Ying. “Let’s get out of here. There’s lots to do. Besides, Huaisang is probably crying on that Wen boy’s shoulder by now, and Wangji needs clothes.”

Lan Zhan helped Wei Ying off the floor and kept an arm around his waist, a smug, contented glint in his eyes. Numb, Wei Ying let himself take comfort in his soulmate’s strength. 

This would all change. Tomorrow, they would remember who he was and what that meant in cultivation society. For today, he would enjoy what he had and let it comfort him when it all fell apart.

 


 

Two weeks later, the Wen remnants were safely tucked away in their new home. After much discussion, they changed their name to aid in their security. Wei Ying almost melted into a puddle when they officially adopted the Wei surname. He tried to warn them that his name wasn’t any better in the eyes of the cultivation world, but they refused to listen. Even Wen Qing and a wonderfully living Wen Ning agreed, though Qing-jie was proud of her ancestors and the Dafen Wen name. 

She finally let go after a long talk with Popo. Together, the former Wen built a special room in their temple devoted to their Wen ancestors where they could leave offerings and honour them. 

When Lan Xichen returned to Cloud Recesses, he laid everything out to the elders, enduring their complaints and objections until his head hurt. Finally, he told them of the vow he made with the heavenly celestial and the possible consequences of breaking that vow. When a few members of the council still protested, he told them to take it up with the heavenly court. 

Meanwhile, Wei Ying had plenty to get used to. Lan Zhan refused to leave his side for even a moment. Nor would he take back his ribbon, which Lan Xichen finally took pity on him and told him what it meant. Afterward, Wei Ying found himself staring at the piece of ribbon, touching it tenderly as he pieced his heart back together.

Lan Qiren spit up blood when he discovered his favourite nephew was betrothed to his least favourite student. Between that and Zewu-jun’s sudden assertiveness, he decided seclusion might do him some good for a while. That didn’t last long due to an inquisitive a-Yuan, who found his cabin and snuck inside. After a million questions, the adorable boy in Lan whites reconciled him to the changes, and he left his cabin defeated, but somehow content.

While Wei Ying wanted to stay with the Wens, now Weis, Lan Zhan insisted he was safer in Cloud Recesses. Unable to resist his beloved, he gave in, but not before securing some concessions like Emperor’s Smile, chilli oil, and red robes under the Lan whites. 

Happy to have Suibian back, he set himself up a routine to get his skills and core back to where they once were.

Wen Qing, now Wei Qing, teamed up with Nie Huaisong to scold Nie Mingjue back to health. The Nie leader grumbled and shouted, blaming both Wei Ying and Wangji and upstart deities for his new troubles.  

Every morning, he had to remind himself he wasn’t dreaming when he woke up. Fortunately, snuggled securely in Lan Zhan’s bed under a pile of blankets scented with sandalwood, it didn’t take long to reassure himself it was real.

After another two weeks, Zewu-jun held a conference to inform the other sects of the changes. A healthier Chifeng-zun stood by his side, glowering everyone into submission. When certain sect leaders and cultivators questioned the integrity of the Lan leader’s word, they found themselves suddenly suffering from an eternal, burning itch no doctor could heal. Not long after, the afflicted stepped down from their positions to tend to their growing physical torture. 

They would exact revenge for their suffering, if only they could get a moment’s relief from their discomfort. Though, in one fit of agony, Jin Guangshan took out his misery on Jin Guangyao, who died wishing he never met his horrible father.  

Due to this change, Xue Yang never escaped the dungeons where he worked to understand demonic cultivation. Without Wei Ying’s notes, he eventually met his end at the hands of his own experiments. 

Jin Zixuan and Lady Jiang did their best to lead the Jin sect after the fall of Jin Guangshan. However, internal fighting and backstabbing - both literally and figuratively - proved too much for the naive couple and they escaped to an estate closer to Gusu than Yunmeng. Lady Jiang would have moved to Lotus Pier, but her husband and her brother hated each other. 

For some reason, the Jiang sect leader’s temper grew worse, driving away even the most loyal merchants and civilians. Most of the eager new recruits left, turning to kinder sects for their own safety. Wei Ying did try to help Jiang Cheng when he stormed Cloud Recesses, demanding Wei Ying explain his sudden drop in cultivation strength. However, after a few crude and cruel remarks about his beloved, his child, and his Wei family, Wei Ying made a few crude remarks of his own before letting Lan Zhan toss him out of Gusu.

At first, Yanli tried to smooth over the broken relationship between her brothers, but Wei Ying decided he liked Lan Zhan’s cooking better. She tried to maintain her relationship with Jiang Cheng. Unfortunately, her children and her husband took up most of her time. Jin Zixuan banned his brother-in-law from visiting their kids after Jiang Cheng scolded Jin Ling for not being good enough. The poor five-year-old took the severe words so hard, Yanli had to finally admit maybe her didi really did mean what he said, and wasn’t hiding love under that bitter exterior. 

With the Jin sect in pieces and the Jiang sect crumbling, the couple sent their eldest boy to Cloud Recesses to train with a-Yuan. Though he still displayed a grumpy nature, he grew to be a fine cultivator, eventually starting his own sect with the help of his fellow ducklings, Sizhui, Jingyi, and Zizhen. 

Lan Xichen eventually married both Wei Qing and Nie Mingjue, which led to a spirited family that brought them all joy. Nie Huaisang spent the rest of his days with Wei Ning, writing spring books and spoiling his nieces and nephews. 

After they married, Wei YIng, Lan Zhan and a-Yuan travelled from sea to sea, picking up a few more children and a donkey along the way. During their travels, they stopped at the temple and repaired the building before giving offerings in thanks. 

While a-Yuan played with his new meimei by the door, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan lit incense and bowed. 

“The celestial showed the future the last time,” Lan Zhan said while the incense burned down. He turned his golden eyes toward Wei YIng, sorrow evident in the glistening orbs. “Wei Ying’s future. Wangji’s future.” He cleared his throat. “Wei Ying died.”

“Oh,” he managed, wrapping his arms around his husband. “Well, it was inevitable. My body was held together by stubbornness and resentful energy.”

Lan Zhan whimpered. 

“Ah, don’t worry, Husband. You saved me. I’m strong now, all better.” He patted his tummy. “I’ve even expanded.”

A soft huff escaped those tempting Lan lips, and Lan Zhan rewarded him with a gentle kiss. He pressed their foreheads together. 

“Wangji lost his Wei Ying. The sects destroyed Wei Ying and the Wen.”

“Hey, I’m here. I’m here,” Wei Ying told him, running a hand down his husband’s back. “I’m here. You saved me. We are together forever.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said with a soft smile. “Wei Ying is mine.”

“And Lan Zhan is mine,” he replied with a laugh. “Come on. Let’s check on the children. Their silence is starting to worry me.”

On the night of their first anniversary, Wei Ying woke to the sound of his husband crying out. With gentle touches, he coaxed Lan Zhan from his nightmare. His beloved gasped as he opened his eyes wide, his terror evident on his beautiful face.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, it’s okay; I’m here,” he said as he held his husband tight and rubbed circles on his back. 

“Mn,” his Lan muttered, his head tucked into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck. After a few minutes, his body stopped shaking and his breathing evened out. 

When his love was ready, Wei Ying made them tea which they sipped while they sat together on the front porch of the cabin they rented on their travels. The warm night glowed in the moonlight, creating long shadows and silvery trees. 

Wei Ying waited in silence. This wasn’t the first night they spent fighting the demons of their sleep. Usually, it was him clinging to his husband as he dealt with the horrors of the past few years. He rarely shared details of those dark days with Lan Zhan. No one needed to know what he went through in the Burial Ground, especially not his treasured Hanguang-jun.

For his part, Lan Zhan never spoke of his celestial vision again. Whatever happened, Wei Ying didn’t want to know. He still struggled with his own doubts and self-esteem, often fearing the loss of his happy life.  

  




 When they returned to Gusu with their children and donkey in tow, they settled in the Jingshi where certain rules of Cloud Recesses did not apply. Though Lan Qiren did not approve of this compromise, Lan Xichen added it to the list of changes he decided to implement for the health and happiness of his family and sect. Thus, their children grew up with their parents and much laughter rang out from the little cabin in the woods that once was the Quiet Room. 

Notes:

Hugs to you all. Thanks for any kudos or kind comments. You make my life better. I hope my stories make your life better.😊💝💝💝

P.S. I'm not Chinese, nor do I speak Chinese. I do try to do my research and appreciate any corrections.

P.S. Again. Why am I watching a documentary on feral dogs? No wonder Wei Ying is terrified of dogs. Ahhh.