Chapter Text
Wei Ying is not in bed.
Normally, Wei Ying is curled up next to Lan Wangji when he wakes at five. Wei Ying will be strewn about, soft limbs and dark hair fanned and sprawled, leg over Wangji's hip, arms wrapped tightly around his chest, and face pressed into his neck. Even in sleep, Wei Ying is a bundle of energy; he is always moving. Now, Wangji wakes to a cold bed, and no Wei Ying.
At first, he is naive to think that after two years of marriage, Wei Ying has gotten used to the Lan sleeping schedule, that he is already up. The thought passes quickly when it is Wei Ying he is thinking of.
The second thought is that Wei Ying went to the bathroom. Which is, again, quite naive and much too simple for his hyper husband.
The third thought is that Wei Ying has wandered off. Which is the most plausible. Because it is Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji knows him much too well. So, patiently, he goes about his morning routine, intending to go find his wandering husband before the juniors wake for classes.
There's a talismans course today, and Wei Ying had begged to teach one. Reluctantly, Shufu had agreed, much to Wei Ying's delight and Lan Wangji's own personal amusement at seeing his husband excited as he was.
He has to pause midway through his routine. Because his headband is gone. Alongside Wei Ying. Wei Ying had made him shameless enough to wander about without it a few times, but he has no desire to play his games if he's not there. So he waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
No Wei Ying.
By six, Wei Ying is still unheard from, and the Jingshi is much too cold for his liking. Too quiet. He frowns, then stands to go slip his outer robes on.
Wei Ying is loud, rambunctious, and forgets rules as easy as the day of the week. But he never leaves without telling Lan Wangji what he'll be doing. Never. After two years, Wei Ying had always left a letter, a drawing, a slip of paper. Now, he had slipped out without alerting his husband, quietly and like a shadow. Which wasn't necessarily unheard of; Wei Ying was silent and agile, and was conscientious of others' needs and wants.
His finger twitches on his lap. There is an anxious feeling settling in his gut. Much too anxious.
A knock, quiet and calm and ever-so polite, comes from his door. "Hanguang-jun! Hanguang-jun!"
When he opens the door, still particularly upset there was no Wei Ying to greet him, a young Lan disciple, one he recognizes as having been on night patrol, bows his head in greeting, clasping his hands together. Lan Wangji nods in greeting, realizing very quickly what a sight he may seem. No forehead ribbon and no shoes, hair still a little messed from sleep. Wei Ying combs it for him in the mornings typically.
"Hanguang-jun! This disciple is terribly sorry to bother you. It would appear–It would appear Senior Wei is at the gates? Without you?" Lan Wangji must make a face because the disciple pales. "Pardon this disciple, we could not let him in. He has no token. He seems a bit out of it. I'm sorry."
That gets Lan Wangji moving. He holds a hand for the disciple to wait, then he moves to find his shoes and a spare outer robe. If Wei Ying was outside at six in the morning, he is most likely freezing, and not wearing more than one of Lan Wangji's spare robes.
"We're very sorry to bother you!" the disciple calls, still quiet. No yelling in the Cloud Recesses. "He did ask to fetch you, so I was sent."
"Mm. Not a problem. Thank you," Lan Wangji tells the disciple. The young boy, Lan Yu, if his memory is correct, flushes and smiles. "Lead, please."
With an obedient nod, Lan Yu begins walking towards the Cloud Recesses gate. Where Wei Ying is. Cold and having wandered off. Lan Wangji's heart sinks. His husband is too much like a toddler without a strong hold on his arm. It's quite endearing, truthfully, but the stress it leaves will be giving Lan Wangji grey hairs before he turns forty.
As they approach the gate, Lan Wangji feels his heart flutter in amusement. Wei Ying's voice is quite loud.
"--fearsome Yiling Patriarch! Husband to your radiant Hanguang-jun! Why shouldn't I be allowed in? This is preposterous. I know you, you play the xiao. Not a good instrument for you, you should switch to the guqin. You have nice, strong fingers. Flutes and xiaos and dizi, they're all awful."
"Senior Wei," Lan Wangji hears the guard start, holding back a laugh, "you play the dizi."
"I know, and it's terrible. Absolutely awful. Splinters in your tongue and lips. Can I come in now?"
"I'm afraid not. If you'd please wait–"
"I will beg, Little Lan. On my knees. Do you want your poor senior on his old knees? Begging? Crying? I can barely walk, this is abuse."
The guard sighs then turns and bows to Lan Wangji. "Your husband is very loud in the morning, Hanguang-jun. And likes picking fights." It's said with amusement, and she smiles softly. He nods, and when she allows the gates to open, Lan Wangji steps through and makes a dash for his husband.
Truthfully, Wei Ying seems okay.
But it's Wei Ying and Lan Wangji knows better.
His hair is down, trailing past his hips and curling. Smile bright and wide, eyes still seemingly hazy with sleep, he's standing perfectly well, but resting one of his arms to his chest while the other holds his elbow. Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon is still snuggly tied around one of his wrists. He's shivering, and his lips are turning blue. When he looks down, Wei Ying's feet and ankles are caked in mud.
Wei Ying beams when Lan Wangji approaches. "Lan Zhan! Good morning!"
He sighs, fondly, and steps to his freezing husband, wrapping him in the spare robe he brought. "Mm. Good morning. Why are you here? You are freezing."
Wei Ying's face does something funny. Then, he looks away and bites his lip. "See, funny story–"
"Wei Ying."
"I'm getting to it, don't interrupt me! I don't remember."
"Pardon?"
"I'll tell you in a bit. I think my wrist is broken, I'm freezing, and I need a bath." He makes a grab for Lan Wangji's arm and squeaks when Lan Wangji simply scoops him up, impatient and dying to get him to the infirmary. "Lan Zhan! How awfully bold of you! How sweet! My strong, amazing–ow!"
Lan Wangji looks down. Wei Ying is clutching his right wrist, the bone jutting at an odd angle. It's bruising, and there's a scrape on his hand. He moves slower, allowing Wei Ying to adjust himself to a more comfortable position before they begin their walk. Through two layers of fabric, he can feel Wei Ying shivering. Lan Wangji furrows his eyebrows, hefting his husband up. "Infirmary."
"And a bath!" Wei Ying adds. "I don't know how I got so dirty! It was so weird. I remember going to sleep in a bed, then waking up in a hole somewhere halfway down the trip to Caiyi Town and that's pretty wild. And then I think my wrist broke before I woke up? It doesn't hurt if I don't think about it."
"You wandered," Lan Wangji supplies as they walk. Rather, he walks and Wei Ying allows himself to be carried, quite docile. "Woke up and you were gone."
"Mm. I didn't mean to worry you. If I knew what happened, I'd be spilling. Then I spent five minutes asking those children to let me in, and they didn't? I was cold, starving, missing my wonderful Lan-er-gege, and the brats say I can't come in! Isn't that preposterous, Lan Zhan?"
"Mm. Preposterous."
Wei Ying hums in agreement, then sleepily shoves his face into the curve of Lan Wangji's neck. He sighs, shivering becoming less extreme as Wangji's body warms him. He's still freezing, and his fingers are pale, but his breath is warm and he's coherent. He's quiet the rest of the walk to the infirmary, snuggled close and holding his wrist loosely.
One of the doctors, Lan Biya, looks up from a chart she has as soon as Lan Wangji steps in, holding an armful of freezing Yiling Patriarch. She raises an eyebrow, then snorts and nods. "Hanguang-jun," she says in greeting. "May I know the purpose of your visit? What has your innocent husband done now?"
Lan Wangji hums, following after her to set Wei Ying down on one of the beds. He whines, trying to use his limp hand to grab Wangji's sleeve, then blinks awake and huffs. "So cruel, Hanguang-jun," he whispers, turning away like a child being scolded. Lan Biya sighs.
"Hanguang-jun?"
"His wrist. And he is freezing." He pauses, taking note of how tired Wei Ying still is. Rubbing a finger on his husband's side as Wei Ying leans against him, he purses his lips and looks at Lan Biya, eyebrows furrowed. "I believe he is sleepwalking. He has no memory of leaving the Jingshi."
"None at all," Wei Ying says, fighting a yawn. "Woke up in a dirty hole."
Lan Biya hums, taking note of Wei Ying's muddy feet. "I see. May I see your wrist, Wei Wuxian?" He offers it lazily, blinking sleep from his eyes and sighs. After a moment, she taps his wrist and drops it, then moves to his injured hand. "He's simply cold. He is quite lucky it was not one of Gusu's snowy nights."
"Are you able to tell how long he was out?" Lan Wangji asks. Wei Ying frowns from his spot leaning against him.
"I'm right here. Awake. Hearing."
"Mm. Apologies."
Lan Biya gently rolls Wei Ying's wrist, eliciting a sharp gasp from him, then she flattens it out, palm resting on the underside of Wei Ying's forearm to make a base. "Roughly two hours? Maybe less. Not long enough for anything as extreme as hypothermia. This wrist is my main concern. It's a nasty one, but if you allow me to reset it, a simple spiritual energy transfer will have it fixed in no time to make up for that slow core."
Wei Ying huffs out a laugh, moving to sit on the bed in a more comfortable position, placing his legs under himself. "Go for it, Lan-daifu. I am in your very capable hands! Lan Zhan, hold me. I'm very scared."
He's not. There's amusement in Wei Ying's voice, bright and clear. Lan Wangji sighs, then grabs his uninjured hand and his waist, hooking his chin over Wei Ying's shoulder and kissing his cheek. "Mm. Better?"
"Very much so. Proceed, Lan-daifu!"
She smiles, slowly moving her hands away from Wei Ying's forearm, and grasps his wrist, carefully cradling his fingers in strong, methodical hands. She rolls it, pausing every few seconds to change direction. She pulls, making Wei Ying wince. Then, she sharply twists, and the bone cracks. Wei Ying bites his lip, then laughs.
"Holy shit," he whispers.
"Alright?" Lan Biya asks, making Wei Ying flatten his palm.
Wei Ying nods, then blinks and turns to Lan Zhan. "That was awful. Terrible. The worst."
"Mm. You feel better?" Lan Wangji asks, pressing another soft kiss to his temple. "You've stopped shivering." When Wei Ying nods, Lan Wangji sighs and dips his head in thanks to Lan Biya. "Thank you, Lan-daifu."
"Of course, Hanguang-jun," she says easily, dipping her head. Then she rolls Wei Ying's wrist again, and sends him a steady stream of spiritual energy. Wei Ying eases immediately. "I am wondering about this supposed sleepwalking episode. Have you ever done so in your youth before?"
"I have no idea. I may have? My memory is very…sporadic." He laughs softly, then yawns again. "Not that I know of? I suppose Sect Leader Jiang would have to be asked, but that's stupid to bother him with such a thing."
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji scolds. "You wandered out into a cold night with only my robe and no shoes."
Wei Ying sighs dramatically. "I'm aware. I'm just saying, I don't know. Truly. And I think it's pointless to fret over it." He makes a sound of protest when Lan Biya rolls his wrist again, but it sounds fake and not from pain.
Lan Biya hums, then folds her hands. "And you don't remember? Hanguang-jun, were you not awoken by him moving?"
Lan Wangji frowns. "No. I was not aware he had left until I woke up. Lan Yu came to inform me Wei Ying was at the gates. I thought you had simply…"
"You thought I simply left you?" Wei Ying teases, eyes glinting mischievously. Lan Wangji huffs, looking away. "And in any case, no. I don't remember leaving, I didn't leave while awake, nor did I choose to wake up in a cold ditch. Now my feet are muddy." He whines, kicking his feet. The bottom of the robe he's wearing is also muddied. If Lan Wangji focuses enough, he can see the mud clumped in Wei Ying's hair, too. He grimaces. "Plus, I'd have to climb over Lan Zhan to leave. I don't know how I did it without waking him up. I'm not exactly stealthy."
Wei Ying rolls his wrist again experimentally. When it rolls without clicking or hurting, he smiles and dips his head in thanks to Lan Biya. "You Lans are so efficient! Aiya! Look, Lan Zhan! It doesn't stick out now!" He hands his wrist over to Lan Wangji for inspection. He gives it a careful examination, then nods in approval and kisses his husband's wrist.
"Mm. Better." Wei Ying grins, then yawns again and waves his hand. "Bath now."
"Yes, yes. Lan-er-gege knows best. Thank you again, Lan-daifu. Truly, a very helpful doctor! One of the best."
"Simply one of the best? I would've preferred to be called the best," Lan Biya says, huffing and crossing her arms. She turns away then, and Wei Ying laughs.
"Apologies for any offense, but I know the best doctor to ever exist. No one can beat her; not even the miraculous Lan-daifu."
It takes Lan Biya a moment, and then she sighs and stares as Lan Wangji helps Wei Ying stand. He asks her for spare slippers that she wouldn't mind dirtying, and a moment later, Wei Ying is bundled and wearing the patient slippers, ready for an early morning walk back to the Jingshi. She smiles as they leave, soft and small. "I hope to not see you too soon again, Wei Wuxian."
"No promises, Lan-daifu! The best Lan doctor! My favorite Lan doctor!"
Lan Biya's eyes widen slightly, and then she huffs softly as she shuts the door on them.
Wei Ying snorts, then wraps his arm around Lan Wangji. "She's great. One of my favorite Lans! And she's so efficient. My wrist is all good!"
Lan Wangji hums as they walk, rubbing a thumb on the bone of Wei Ying's wrist. "You honestly do not remember?"
"I honestly don't," Wei Ying answers, nodding. "It was like–I went to sleep. I know that. And then I'm freezing in a ditch a little walk from Caiyi Town. I don't know what I was doing. It was so jarring, I just had to walk back to the Cloud Recesses, but then I didn't have a token. Now, I'm warm and ready to make my beautiful husband wash my hair! Lan Zhan?"
"Mm?"
"Will you wash my hair, please? I'll do yours after if you want."
"Please."
Wei Ying smiles, ever so bright. "Of course. So handsome, my Lan-er-gege is. Ever with his hair all messy. These poor disciples, their little hearts must be beating so fast seeing their blessed Hanguang-jun look so debauched."
"Ironic."
"Are you saying I look debauched, Lan Zhan?"
"Mm."
Wei Ying gasps. "How rude!"
It's a quiet morning after that. Wei Ying bathes, and the water dirties quickly when he's done washing his hair out. Clumps of mud had stuck the silky strands together, and Lan Wangji had to kneel by the tub to help him wash the gunk out. When they were done, Wei Ying's hair was clean, the mud washed from his feet, and his fingers pruning. He was warm, though. And Wangji was perfectly happy to have a warm husband over a shivering one.
He gathers his bearings relatively quickly. Wei Ying bounces about the Jingshi with little worry, hair damp down his back and freshly wrapped, snug and warm, in one of Lan Wangji's spare robes. Wangji makes them tea, a spicier blend for Wei Ying, and they go about their morning. The slight disruption makes them have to rush to get Wei Ying dressed, tie Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon back on, and pull Wei Ying's drying hair into its natural ponytail. Even then, they take their time, and Wei Ying behaves normally.
Which also means petulantly biting Lan Wangji on the chin for his morning troubles.
Wangji huffs then leans to kiss Wei Ying. "Behave," he scolds. Wei Ying raises his eyebrows.
"Make me, Hanguang-jun."
Wangji narrows his eyes, then grabs Wei Ying by the ponytail, twirling the still damp strands around his hand and firmly tugging his head back. Wei Ying laughs, eyes wide. When Lan Wangji hums, Wei Ying smiles, easy and soft, and purses his lips. Wangji indulges, placing another kiss on Wei Ying's face, then biting. Wei Ying whines then frowns and licks his bottom lip.
"You're so rude, er-gege. Is this how you treat your husband?"
"Mm."
Huffing like a child, Wei Ying turns away and crosses his arms. "Awful. Terrible, truly." He leans back, tilting his chin up and blinks owlishly. "Do it again, please." Lan Wangji feels his pulse stutter with affection, and he is ever so gentle as he does it again. Wei Ying smiles, sighs, and leans in closer. "So great, Lan Zhan. Amazing and perfect."
"Mm. Only for Wei Ying."
That gets Wei Ying turning red, and he chuckles and covers his cheeks. "Aiya, Lan Zhan. You can't just say such things. My poor heart." He grabs Lan Wangji by the hand then, firm and strong and warm, and they go about their day.
Wei Ying leaves to go teach the older students talismans, while Lan Wangji is off to teach the younger disciples basic history, something he rarely does nowadays since his brother went into seclusion, and he was given reign over the sect. He's busy most days, sometimes even too busy to set aside work for Wei Ying. And while Wei Ying complains loudly, it is much easier to deal with his husband who he sees daily, over twenty or so twelve-year-olds who get attached.
There are many intelligent students in this particular batch, including a wide-eyed little child taken in from Yiling five years ago named Bai Shan, mischievous and brilliant. She's smaller than her classmates but social, polite, and, even though he watches carefully, he has never caught her breaking a rule. She's tan, lithe, and her hair curls. Curls. Fluffed and combed nicely, it always curls. It's usually pulled in a low bun to rest at the bottom of her head, and her eyes are dark and bright.
Truthfully, she reminds him of Wei Ying. And while she's certainly been told about him, the two have yet to meet, even after two years of Wei Ying wandering within the confines of the Cloud Recesses. Bai Shan's adoptive father is fairly lenient and gentle, so she could probably get away with interacting with the Yiling Patriarch. The rule had never stopped the older disciples before it was removed, but many parents kept their children far away from Wei Ying.
Bai Shan's father seemed to be okay with her doing as she pleased.
Which is why, secretly, Lan Wangji likes her the most. She's unassuming, and he's sure she and Wei Ying would become fairly close relatively quickly.
The thought was terrifying to Shufu, who then himself made sure to not only watch for Wei Ying, but Bai Shan as well. Truly, if the duo met and did become friendly, Shufu would die of qi deviation. Which Lan Wangji would much rather not have happen. So, reluctantly, Lan Wangji kept his mischievous student and mischievous husband away from each other.
In any case, Bai Shan is a diligent student who does her tasks cleanly, and is quickly rising among the ranks of her classmates. Lan Wangji enjoys her presence.
Speaking of, she's the first in class that morning. She sits, properly and waiting, lips pursed and hands uncharacteristically fidgeting. When she sees him, she raises her eyes and bows her head in greeting. "Hanguang-jun."
"Bai Shan," he says. "You are early. Even for Lan disciples."
She nods, biting her lip and then sighs. "My dad," she says simply. Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, stepping up to sit at his desk. "He's sick. Again. The healers requested I simply leave a little earlier today. I hope you don't mind too much."
"Mm. I do not. Ten minutes is no issue. He is unwell?"
She nods, and forgoes a little Lan modesty as her shoulders slump. "It's bad again, Hanguang-jun. Very bad." She stops talking, and Lan Wangji glances at her to see if she'll keep talking. "He couldn't stand today," is how she finishes. Lan Wangji pauses his desk setup, his hand lingering on a brush.
He knows Lan Xueqin. A soft, gentle soul, Lan-born and quite sickly. While he has a golden core, it's underdeveloped and much like Wei Ying's: small and weak. Lan Wangji has talked to the younger man multiple times. He's pleasant and polite, soft-spoken, and an excellent craftsman. When Bai Shan first came from Yiling after a group's night hunt, he'd quickly volunteered to take her in, providing her with a quiet home. Throughout the years, his health had declined, and Lan Wangji has watched him be carted over and over again to the infirmary from his quiet little home a little ways away from the main courtyards.
"Has Lan Biya seen him?" he asks Bai Shan, quiet and even.
"Yes. Yes, she has. She doesn't know what to do. Or, she does. But she can only give him so much. Pain remedies and some sleeping agents. He doesn't complain, but…and don't tell him I told you, because then he'll joke I'm terrible at keeping secrets, Hanguang-jun."
"Mm. I will say nothing."
Bai Shan laughs, wet and thick, then she dabs her face with her sleeve. "He cried last night. He won't tell anyone, but he did." She swallows and blinks, then whispers, "Then he went to throw up in our bathroom. And then apologized when he went to clean it up. I tried. To–uhm–clean. He wouldn't let me."
"Your father is stubborn," Lan Wangji notes quietly, passing slips of paper to the desks, positioning brush mats carefully. "Very. But he is strong. He will still hug and see you when you are done today."
"Thank you, Hanguang-jun. He is very stubborn. Did you know he won't take my tea, but he'll go and make his own pot and then serve us both? Hm. Stubborn old man."
"He loves you."
Bai Shan smiles, then laughs softly. "I know. But, he's sick and he should let me love him." She taps her paper softly. "You're much too good, Hanguang-jun."
He startles softly.
Much more Wei Ying than he initially noticed.
He hums at her. "Merely being as good as one deserves," he says, then moves to sit back at his desk. His other students will file in soon. "No such thing as being too good."
"Very wise, Hanguang-jun."
He turns, offering a small nod of his head. "Of course.
The lesson goes by with little issue. His students are quiet and respectful, engage in a short, healthy debate over sword forms used throughout history and whether or not it was a smarter idea to implement certain maneuvers, and take notes diligently. There are few issues, and there is only one instance of a rule broken, interrupting, that Lan Wangji reprimands them for. Aside from that, a perfectly respectable lesson.
Until it becomes a less than entertaining one.
It's quiet. Each student reviews their own notes quietly while Lan Wangji assesses the assignments they turned in. Bai Shan has so far been the highest mark, but one of the quietest Lan children is sneaking up on her grade-wise. It is respectable, to have competitive students that still enjoy each other's company.
He praises handwriting, notes, clues, and tiny details within the papers. One student misinterprets a string of information but ties their assignment together cleanly. Another skews away from the original assignment but presents a different outlook with sources marked and examples present.
A respectable bunch of intelligent students.
He's standing next to one student's desk, pointing out a small mistake in their notes, when the door slides open softly, and a worried head peaks in.
"Hanguang-jun? Pardon this disciple for interrupting you. Senior Wei just collapsed. Someone went to fetch Lan-daifu." The disciple clasps his hands and bows, and the room goes dead silent.
Lan Wangji moves, shoes barely scraping the floor. "Where?" he asks, demands, and moves to follow. He pauses, then regards his class. "Review, no talking. I will be back."
His students nod in sync, quiet and serious, and Lan Wangji moves, sleeves fluttering as he rushes, no running in the Cloud Recesses, as fast as he can to Wei Ying's classroom. "How?" he asks the disciple.
The boy's mouth tightens. "He's been out of it all class, Hanguang-jun. Lan Jingyi had to keep redirecting him, and he paused multiple times before resuming his sentences as if he hadn't. Then he turned to the door and fainted. He didn't hit his head, we think, and it was fast. We couldn't catch him. I'm sorry."
His heart stutters in his chest, and the immediate, visceral, paranoid reaction is that Wei Ying is dying again. The thought terrifies him.
Sizhui is not in Cloud Recesses, Sizhui is away with Wen Ning.
If something was wrong, Lan Wangji would be writing two heart-rending letters: one to his own son, and one to Wei Ying's brother.
If he would even read it.
He breathes in, short and sharp. The fainting paired with Wei Ying's morning sleepwalking sends goosebumps along his skin.
Finally, he hums as they turn the corner, facing Wei Ying's classroom. Inside, there is a quiet murmur. Wei Ying, again, is quite loud. Which puts Lan Wangji's ferociously beating heart at ease. Wei Ying is breathing. It's okay.
When he opens the door, Wei Ying is laying flat on his back, a half-dozen disciples circling him as they fret. He's frowning, eyes closed and hands folded over his stomach, but very awake. A disciple helps position his head on her outer robe, mouth tight. Jingyi, the eldest in the room, frowns down at Wei Ying, hands on his hips and eyebrows furrowed in scolding.
"If you were sick, why'd you come here? You know how worried we all were? You dropped like a rock! A rock, Senior Wei!"
Wei Ying huffs, and Lan Wangji steps forward. The group scuttles back, and he takes a spot kneeling, brushing Wei Ying's hair from his forehead.
Wei Ying hums, a smile appearing on his face. "Hello, Lan Zhan. Fancy meeting you like this."
"You fainted," Lan Wangji says, tone slightly accusing. "What happened?"
Wei Ying sighs, then slowly peels his eyes open. His pupils are hazy and don't focus right, not unlike the reaction this morning. "Nothing, Lan Zhan. I simply fainted. It's nothing to worry about. I feel fine, okay? Go back to your lesson, I didn't mean to interrupt you."
Jingyi scoffs, then squats next to Wei Ying and feels his forehead. "You passed out, Senior Wei. Like, creepily."
"You think I'm possessed, Jingyi?" Wei Ying teases, eyes shrinking to crescents. Jingyi narrows his eyes, then looks at Lan Wangji. "Jingyi, answer your senior. How rude! I didn't know all my favorite Lans were so rude. At least A-Yuan loves me sweetly."
Lan Wangji frowns, pressing firmly on top of Wei Ying's head. One of the students hums, she's the one whose outer robe is being used to cushion Wei Ying's head, and glances at him from the corner of her eye. "Senior Wei was teaching normally."
"As I do."
"You're sick, don't talk. Pardon me, Hanguang-jun," she says quickly, looking at him. He waves a dismissive hand and urges her to keep going. "And then he kept stopping, staring off into space, and then he simply fell over. It was strange."
Lan Wangji hums, rubbing Wei Ying's temples. "You do not remember, Wei Ying?"
Wei Ying hums, eyes closing again. "I do not. This feels like a prank. If I'm being very honest, I remember stepping inside, greeting my wonderful class, and then waking up to my beautiful students worrying over something silly."
"Wei Ying, that's twice."
Jingyi frowns. "Twice? He fainted earlier?"
Wei Ying makes a delayed sound of protest, then drunkenly brings his hand to rest over his eyes. "Nothing for my children to worry about, don't worry, Jingyi. Your Senior Wei is doing amazing."
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji scolds, rubbing his thumb softly along his husband's hairline. "Not nothing. Stop talking."
"So dramatic, Lan Zhan," he mumbles.
Lan Wangji sighs, directing Wei Ying to be still. He checks his pupils one more time. They're still hazy, slightly blurred, but they're growing sharper as Wei Ying keeps his eyes open longer. The room is soft-spoken, quiet whispers over Wei Ying, some making conversation with him to keep him awake and coherent, others simply observing their Chief Cultivator cradling the heinous Yiling Patriarch in his lap, stroking his hair.
Lan Wangji can't say he's not doing just that. Wei Ying is his husband, after all. And right now, his husband will have him dying of qi deviation before forty. Because, somehow, his husband has managed to: wander out of their home into the freezing woods in only a spare outer robe, broken his wrist, and fainted while teaching. Within his almost four hours of being awake.
A personal Wei Ying record. It's astounding, even for Wei Ying standards.
A disciple enters with Lan Biya a few moments later, and she's already scowling at the crowd formed of tiny Lan children. Wei Ying grins sheepishly, and Lan Biya huffs. "Out!" she says fiercely. "If you are not a doctor, my patient, or spouse, leave! Good day, children! That includes you, Lan Jingyi!" She points out Jingyi, huddled by Wei Ying's ankles and squatting still. He frowns.
"I'm emotional support and entertainment. Senior Wei finds me funny."
Lan Biya's lip twitches, but she simply points to the door. Jingyi says something under his breath, adjusting his robes and grumbling. He slams the door, softly, behind him, and Lan Biya sets to work.
"Wei Wuxian. Fancy seeing you again. It's been three hours, what have you done?"
Wei Ying laughs. "It appears I've fainted. Somehow."
She raises an eyebrow. "Appears. I've been told you did. What did you do?"
Wei Ying sighs, closing his eyes again and letting Lan Wangji rub his scalp softly. "Well, the issue is I don't remember. I am being told, by the children you kicked out, that I stared and fell. I remember none of that. I came in here, then I woke up. It's all very fascinating, hm?"
Lan Wangji hums, turning to Lan Biya as she presses her fingers to Wei Ying's wrist, checking his meridians. "The students informed me he has been dazed. And stopped talking multiple times. Lan Jingyi had to get him to focus; then he passed out." Wei Ying makes some sort of noise, and Lan Wangji quiets him by placing a hand on his forehead. "His pupils are fuzzy, Lan-daifu."
"Fuzzy?" she says. When he nods, she sighs and leans over Wei Ying, tapping his cheek. "Open your eyes for me, Wei Wuxian. I need to check your pupils."
He groans, but does as told as she holds his eye open to examine. Lan Wangji leans forward too, noting the fuzzy edges of Wei Ying's pupil mixing into the sharper slope. Lan Biya makes a contemplative noise, then adjusts herself to lean closer.
"Are you in any pain?" she asks, holding her finger out. "Follow my finger, please."
Wei Ying hums again, following her finger perfectly as Lan Biya slowly moves it right to left. "No, nothing hurts. I'm just sore laying here. Can I sit up yet?" Lan Wangji bites his cheek, wanting to keep him down and resting for as long as possible. Lan Biya's lip twitches.
"Slowly. Hanguang-jun, help me sit him up."
They work carefully, Lan Wangji holding Wei Ying up from the back, and Lan Biya encircling his wrists to pull him toward her. Wei Ying goes easily, and truthfully, he seems well enough aside from the fuzziness to his eyes. "See? You both fret too much. I'll be fine, Lan Zhan. Go teach your children. They must be missing the handsome Hanguang-jun teaching them."
Lan Biya frowns. "Not so fast, you. You wandered out of Cloud Recesses this morning while sleeping, broke your wrist, and fainted. I am–I am concerned, even if nothing is out of the ordinary. Hanguang-jun?"
"Mm?"
"Tonight, I think it would benefit you both if Wei Wuxian went to sleep before you."
Wei Ying flinches, then furrows his eyebrows. "What?"
Lan Biya huffs, pinching his wrist. "I would like you to be moderated the first hour you sleep. Your spiritual energy changes, breathing; monitoring beyond sleeping as well. It would be beneficial if you visit me again before you sleep. Then, I'd like to allow you a sleeping broth." She sits back on her heels, eyes glancing over Wei Ying again. Lan Wangji smooths a hand down his husband's spine, lip caught between his teeth. "I'll give it to you when I check you, Wei Wuxian, then I'd like Hanguang-jun to moderate for an hour. Sleeping patterns change in people, and if you're fainting and sleepwalking in the same timeframe, that may turn out to be concerning."
Wei Ying snorts, then hastily moves to get up. Lan Wangji holds his hands out, terrified he'll fall if he doesn't support him. Wei Ying doesn't even waver, and dismissively waves his hand at Lan Biya. "You two are such fuddy-duddies. It was one time. I'm not worried, hm? Lan Zhan," he teases, letting his eyelids drop. "C'mon? I don't need a sleeping broth. Lan-daifu, thank you but–"
"He'll do it," Lan Wangji says, silently reprimanding himself for interrupting Wei Ying. His husband looks abashed, eyes wide and mouth ajar. "Please, Wei Ying? Once. To see."
Wei Ying's eyes flit between Lan Wangji and Lan Biya, hands brought before him to rest on his stomach. Then, he sighs and nods, albeit reluctantly. "Okay," he says. "One night. I'm a very busy man, Lan-daifu. Lan Zhan, we will talk later."
His heart stutters. Wei Ying is staring at him, lips pursed and hands clenching tightly on his stomach. He's not angry, if Wei Ying were angry they'd be talking now, but he's definitely not happy. Lan Wangji can understand; he's just made a choice for Wei Ying and then begged to not be mad. Wei Ying won't be mad, he'll simply want an explanation. But he's less than happy.
Lan Biya nods then stands. She's taller than Wei Ying, but there's a softness to her face most of the other Lan healers lack. "Then, after dinner. If you feel faint, even if it is a simple maybe, please come see me." She dips her head to Wei Ying, who does it in return, and then heads out the door, passing by Lan Jingyi by the door, who peaks in with a raised eyebrow.
Wei Ying sighs, turning away from Lan Wangji. Ah, so he is mad.
He stands, hands folded properly behind his back as Wei Ying's students file back in.
"Come, children! Jingyi was about to show us how his talisman worked. Come, come. Your Hanguang-jun was just leaving." There's a smile on his face, one that doesn't leave even as he looks at Lan Wangji. He lowers his voice, stepping closer. "Don't look like that. I'm not angry, I promise. We will talk about this later, Lan Zhan. Hm?" He kisses Lan Wangji's knuckles, soft and sweet. "I promise. No lying in Cloud Recesses."
Lan Wangji sighs, delivering a matching kiss to Wei Ying's knuckles. "Mm. Of course." A promise. Wei Ying is not mad, but he definitely is upset.
Lan Jingyi stays put as Lan Wangji exits. Wei Ying takes to talking easily, loud and clear and precise. Jingyi bites his cheek, and Lan Wangji stops next to him as they quietly watch Wei Ying teach. After a moment, Jingyi opens his mouth. "I think he's okay for now. I'll come get you if something happens, Hanguang-jun. He'll be fine. He's Wei Wuxian of all people." There's a tiredness to Jingyi, one that has him slumping his shoulders and narrowing his eyes.
"Mm. I appreciate that. Thank you. Class, please."
Jingyi sighs dramatically. "I suppose. Senior Wei is probably gonna make me set something on fire again." Lan Wangji flinches, staring at Wei Ying in the classroom. His husband smiles and waves. Jingyi snorts. "Never mind that, Hanguang-jun. Good day!"
"Mm. Good day, Jingyi."