Archive of Our Own

When Wei Ying finally comes back to Gusu, travel-stained and weary but with a bright, radiant smile, Lan Wangji is relieved.

He sweeps the other man into the Jingshi, and lets him bathe in private as he prepares a simple meal in the kitchens. They eat, they talk, and Wei Ying lines up a surprisingly sizable collection of mismatched souvenirs he had picked up along his journey for Lan Wangji, each with an outlandish anecdote and a wide grin attached to it.

With each word, each smile, and each sip of both his tea and Wei Ying's wine, Lan Wangji's buoyant relief gently flutters down and settles near his heart - Warm and content. 

Quietly, Lan Wangji thinks that he likes the feeling.

**

A week passes, word goes around that the Yiling Patriarch is visiting the Cloud Recesses, and the letters start coming.

Lan Wangji knows, of course, about Wei Ying's adventures during the year after they parted last - Had received letters with the intimate and often amusing details of how Wei Ying had made, or perhaps remade, a name for himself across the land. How he had worked together with smaller cultivation sects and other rogue cultivators and devised a sustainable relationship between them and the oft-beleaguered, oft-ignored common folk, giving both parties more independence and bargaining power with larger sects and local rulers alike.

Lan Wangji remembers his own travels during the years Wei Ying was gone, trekking from town to town, plunging himself deep into far-off reaches and making sure that he can deliver justice for ones who needed it the most - To stand with justice, and live with no regrets.

But Wei Ying has always been the more ingenious of the two of them, deconstructing problems and asking why instead of merely striving to solve them. And that ingenuity has now, it seems, made himself something of a folk hero in the eyes of the common people - Who are perhaps too weary already of the neverending squabbles of people in power and sees in Wei Ying someone who simply, unabashedly just seeks to help. It is easier to forgive when one's own life is so unforgiving, and Lan Wangji thinks that the way rulers and major sects still cling to the remains of their animosity to the Yiling Patriarch speaks volumes of the cushioned life they all have.

The letters reflects this newfound regard, most being pleas from towns or smaller sects for the Yiling Patriarch to do them the honor of taking a more permanent residence in their place - Being that he is yet to be formally affiliated with anything at all, some are requests, and three of them are marriage proposals - one of them sent along a heavy scroll of astrological charts confirming the auspicious matching of Wei Ying's birth and their sect's eldest daughter, which made Wei Ying cackle until he lists to the floor of the Jingshi.

"Ah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you seeing this? I don't even know when I was born but apparently these people in Shuzou do! Down to the hour!" 

Lan Wangji feels something, with each letter Wei Ying piles haphazardly beside his writing desk, next to the equally haphazard pile of Wei Ying's notebooks and unfinished arrays. A small, niggling thing that grows slightly larger by the day.

He doesn't fret, as Wei Ying sometimes says he does, and would probably say were he to see Lan Wangji right now, staring at the pile of letters as if they were a particularly dense pair of squabbling sect leaders during one of his Hearings.

After two incense stick's worth of meditation, Lan Wangji tentatively thinks that what he feels is unease. Unease because with each passing day, each passing letter, Lan Wangji realizes that Wei Ying might leave.

And it seems, it is such a trifling, unbecoming feeling - Because Wei Ying is here. Against all odds, against even his own desperate hope, Wei Ying had come back, Wei Ying had come back from the dead, had come back to him, even.

But Lan Wangji also realizes this - That while Wei Ying had come back, he had also singlehandedly, painstakingly retaken his own name from the legacy of his past life. The Yiling Patriarch is now a champion of the people, and Lan Wangji realizes that the whole world is now his to traverse, that Wei Ying doesn't need him to ask him to come back to Gusu with him - That Wei Ying can now be almost anywhere at all without much danger nor scorn.

Unbidden, he remembers the house with Gentian flowers, remembers a life spent inside unchanging walls, remembers eyes sparkling with mere embers that spoke of a diminished fire and how he had vowed, even in his unknowing youth, that he would never, ever take away the freedom of anyone he might one day love.

The third incense stick burns down to nothing, and Lan Wangji closes his eyes, repeats to himself - the way he'd repeat the sect rules in his childhood, over and over until it brands itself into his skin - that Wei Ying is here, he came back and he lives, and wherever he might go, that is enough.

**

He tries to approach the matter with some modicum of subtlety and grace, which, when Wei Ying is involved, is oftentimes with no grace at all.

"When is Wei Ying looking to resume his travels?" Lan Wangji asks, as they sit across each other in the Jingshi - and promptly, futilely wishes he had not.

Wei Ying, for his part, only blinks and looks up from the array he's been fiddling with since yesterday.

"You mean for the next Night Hunt? I think A-Yuan has the schedule for this month - Unless something new or urgent comes up," Wei Ying twirls his brush in his fingers, the way he does Chenqing sometimes, when he's trying to remember something  "Let's see, I'll probably be going to the one in the Lanling border next week since Jin Ling would be there - Oh! And the one South of  Jiangshu because they said they've been requesting help to the local magistrates for months now with no response."

"I see," Lan Wangji says, uncertain if Wei Ying understood his question right, but almost afraid to prod the matter further - Like one would an aching wound, uncertain if the bone is broken or not.

"Say, Lan Zhan, we haven't Night Hunted together for so long! What about we do the one in Jiangshu together? I was about to go alone because it's pretty out of the way for the younger disciples, but the two of us can make it easily with your sword, right?"

And truly, Wei Ying should - must have known by now that there is nothing he could possibly refuse him, even if the other man whoops in genuine joy at his assent, half-finished array forgotten as he launches into a rant of petty secular politics and Lan Wangji makes himself a pot of tea and draws out a jar of Emperor's Smile for Wei Ying.

He supposes that the matter can wait for a bit more.

**

"Lan Zhan, it's nine."

Wei Ying has made the observation thrice, and a tired, peevish part of Lan Wangji wants to remind him that by now it's definitely not nine anymore, but something closer to ten. And that he knows what time it is.

Lan Wangji does not often think of himself as peevish. Tired is a familiar feeling, welcomed, even - Implies a day of hard work and responsibilities fulfilled. But ever since he had taken the mantle of Chief Cultivator, Lan Wangji has to admit that there are times when he's seen and heard one too many useless, petty squabbles, lost one hour too many of time that can be spent working instead of sorting out tangles that aren't even supposed to exist. It puts him ill at ease, the fact that it was easier to actually help people when he was trekking from village to village, just Hanguang-Jun and not His Excellency. That despite the magnitude of his decisions, each one comes with a host of small, arbitrary problems that he has to wade through to even get there. 

"Lan Zhaaaan," Wei Ying whines, draping himself across the table between them "Lan er-gege! Are you even hearing me?"

"Mn. Heard Wei Ying," he nods, finally, not looking up from the letter before him. This is the third request from Moling for His Excellency to endorse their sect as the venue for the next conference on protective Talismans, and Lan Wangji vaguely questions if he should be worried that he's not even surprised anymore, just resigned. "Still have correspondences to finish."

Lan Wangji catches Wei Ying's frown, but not his fingers as the other man swiftly plucks the letter from his hand.

Wei Ying's eyes dart through the page, letting out an incredulous snort before he tosses the letter to the ground, then quickly picks another from the pile to do the same, then another, before he turns his wide-eyed gaze on Lan Wangji "Lan Zhan, these are nonsense! Useless! Why are they even addressing this to the Chief Cultivator? And this?!" Wei Ying's voice rises as he scans through yet another letter.

Lan wangji does not deign him with a reply, even if Wei Ying's sentiment is not entirely untrue. He picks up the discarded letters, smooths the parchment by habit alone.

The frown on Wei ying's face deepens, and Lan Wangji has the irrational impulse to reach out and smooth the out-of-place line from between his brows as he did the letters. But before Lan Wangji could act on any of his mortifying impulses, the frown is gone from Wei Ying's face, replaced by a bright, resolute look Lan Wangji knows well.

"Lan Zhan, go to sleep, I'll do the rest of your correspondences!"

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow minutely - which, he realizes, has always been enough for Wei Ying to read, which he does, as the other man's tone pitches back to an imploring whine  "Come on, I'm not going to sign it or anything - I'm just going to read and annotate them for you and sort out the really useless ones, I'll use a different parchment, promise!"

Lan Wangji wants to argue by principle alone, because he is the Chief Cultivator and the acting Head of his sect and it is his responsibility to bear. But he is tired and peevish and this is Wei Ying -  whom he trusts with his life, his heart, and whom he would never refuse anything.

So Lan Wangji falls asleep to the uncharacteristically quiet scratching of Wei Ying's brush, and wakes up to a surprisingly neat row of letters with small pieces of parchments on top - One says to be signed, another to be replied to, each letter accompanied by a few succinct point and a brief draft of a reply, one to be forwarded to other places and one pile, quite pointedly, placed in an empty chamber pot beside the table.

Lan Wangji feels his steps to be strangely lighter for the rest of the day.

Wei Ying insists on coming along with him on the yearly Cultivation conference a week later, where Lan Wangji watches as Wei Ying alternately blackmails, guilt-trips, and sweet talks the increasingly confused sect leaders into taking more responsibility of their surrounding areas - Including local petitions and minor matters that are definitely not on the level of the Chief Cultivator's jurisdiction.

Wei Ying, perhaps unsurprisingly - Given how easily he always manages to get free things from vendors whenever they go out for walks in Caiyi - is very good at bullying people to do work for him, and in effect, to do work for Lan Wangji. Especially when he gets both Nie Huaisang and young Jin Rulan to back him up, and eventually a reluctant, scowling Jiang Wanyin.

Back in Gusu, somehow Lan Wangji finds his more trivial Sect-related correspondences delegated to Sizhui, to then be further delegated to a few senior disciples under the Head Disciple's supervision - Wei Ying remarking that it would be good practice for the disciples to get familiar with the more administrative and technical aspects of a sect's working.

"Used to slough through these kinds of letters with Shijie when I was Yunmeng's Head Disciple" Wei Ying cheerfully feigns a shudder "Bored me to actual tears, but hey, it's good for something finally!"

Lan Wangji finds the pile on his desk to be considerably smaller, especially as Wei Ying has taken to doing his correspondences with him, parchments exchanging hands between them as Wei Ying reads and annotates while Lan Wangji deliberates and signs, and Lan Wangji marvels, both warmed and unsettled, at how effortlessly they work together like this. How right it feels, despite knowing that this can't go on forever.

"Wei Ying doesn't have to do this," he says, finally, when the niggling unease becomes almost unbearable.

Wei Ying scoffs "Lan Zhan, come on! Aren't you glad you'll finally get to sleep at nine? You know, like a normal Lan Sect person?"

"It's fine," Lan Wangji replies, possibly out of stubborness alone "Can manage with less sleep."

"I know!" Wei Ying pouts, "But you spent like, your whole life sleeping at nine, and that's what your body's comfortable with and works best with, right? I want you to be comfortable, Lan Zhan!"

Lan Wangji ducks his head, taken aback by the earnestness in Wei Ying's words, convinced that his ears must be a burning red - even as the other man continues.

"Anyways! Do you know that eight hours is actually the perfect amount of sleep for the body's Qi cycle and that it allows you to fall into a phase of deep, restful sleep? The founder of your sect must  have known this and implemented it as a rule, which is pretty awesome, isn't it?"

Wei Ying then regales him with a disjointed yet spirited talk about sleep cycles and the possibility of certain arrays that might shift a person's sleep cycle according to their needs - such as when going on Night Hunts, and leaves the Jingshi just in time for one incense stick to burn before nine.

Lan Wangji sleeps well that night, his body falling into the familiar rhythm of his childhood and the memories of Wei Ying's words.

**

Wei Ying's crusade for delegating his work, as it turns out, reaches all the way to his brother's Hanshi.

Lan Wangji notices this as he's giving one last look on the pile of correspondences to be sent, and notices the familiar, flowing script.

"Wei Ying, these are my brother's signatures."

"Oh yeah," Wei Ying confirms lightly, as if it's an afterthought, as if his brother, who had been in seclusion for well over a year now, had not actually signed a document meant for him "I asked him to look at the stuff that might be too difficult for A-Yuan to handle."

Lan Wangji stares at the man sitting across him, and then stares some more, until Wei Ying looks back at him and sets his brush down, shrugs just as lightly.

"I mean, if Zewu Jun is anything like you, then there's some part of him that must be itching to keep his hands busy, right?' Lan Wangji continues staring, and Wei Ying chuckles gently "Well now he can scratch that itch with the plausible deniability that the dreaded Yiling Patriarch bullied him into it - All's good!"

Lan Wangji wants to inform him that the Yiling Patriarch name has not been dreadful for quite some time now - but thinks that maybe bullied by a contemporary folk hero also has some merit to it.

"I see," he says instead, and congratulates himself for keeping an even voice.

Lan Wangji doesn't bring up the matter during his weekly visit to his brother, tentative around his budding hope that Lan Xichen might finally, finally start to reach out beyond the walls of his Hanshi. He talks of the recent Sect conference and how he's making headway to negotiating a more concrete sharing of responsibilities between local rulers and Cultivation Sects in the event of natural disasters in their area. He talks of Sizhui, and the particularly large batch of new junior disciples that they're seeing this year, receiving nods and brief, amicable comments from the older man.

It's not until Lan Wangji is about to rise from his seat that Lan Xichen says, quiet and soft -

"Please thank Young Master Wei for the tea, and that I look forward to his next visit."

"I'll be sure to tell him, brother."

And then, just before he opens the wooden doors of the Hanshi, his brother's voice reaches him again - Clearer, stronger, this time.

"Thank you, Wangji."

Lan Wangji nods, and tries to ignore the prickling on the edges of his eyes.

Wei Ying is waiting in the Jingshi when he gets back, sprawled on the side that's increasingly become his side of Lan Wangji's writing desk - The previous pile of correspondences already sorted out into the now familiar piles of Wei Ying's filing system.

"Ah, Lan Zhan! You're back!" Wei Ying beams, head lifting to grin widely at him and for a moment Lan Wangji is struck with how full his heart is right then - At how much he wants to thank the man before him, bare his heart and his reverence and gratitude for him.

"Brother thanks you for the tea. Looks forward to seeing Wei Ying again," Lan Wangji says instead, and is rewarded with another smile so blinding that he has to look away.

"Say," Wei Ying says, when Lan Wangji feels like he can look into the other man's face again without spilling anything from his overflowing heart "There's still two hours until curfew, and I'm wondering if Lan er-gege would deign to accompany this one for a duet."

Wei Ying tilts his head to the side, chenqing in hand and eyebrows waggling in a way that is probably meant to be enticing, as if Lan Wangji would say no, as if Lan Wangji could refuse him anything. 

They end up sleeping a few hours after nine, and Lan Wangji finds that he doesn't really mind the loss of a few hours of sleep, not when it's spent with Wei Ying.

**

The weeks turn to a month, and then three, and Wei Ying is still in Gusu - And slowly, the unease building in the back of Lan Wangji's mind reaches something of a fever pitch.

Lan Wangji realizes that his days are now filled with Wei Ying's presence - Wei Ying sharing lunch with him, Wei Ying lounging casually at the back of the room as he holds his audiences as The Excellency - grin alternatingly insolent and threatening, Wei Ying telling him of the latest Night Hunt he's accompanied the juniors to - and Lan Wangji realizes that he's getting used to it. That every time he opens the doors to the Jingshi at the end of the day, he expects Wei Ying to be there with a smile for him and it's a terrible, terrible thing.

Sizhui had asked him, after Guanyin temple, how he managed to spend thirteen years loving and mourning Wei Wuxian and bear it. Lan Wangji had let himself smile, then, only answers that it was enough that Wei Ying had come back, that he was there.

But the Lan Wangji who had waited thirteen years for Wei Ying had never actually known how it feels to be with Wei Ying, had only known him and been with him in a series of frantic, fervently stolen moments. Had never known anything to compare with the stark, empty expanse of loneliness and mourning of those long years Wei Ying was gone.

Now, Lan Wangji dreads the answer to that question - Because now he knows how it is to have Wei Ying in his life, to have his smile and his excitement and his warmth if he were ever to find himself suddenly without it.

Lan Wangji realizes that now he probably would not be able to bear it. Not thirteen years, not a month, and probably not later, when Wei Ying will inevitably decide that it's time for him to be on his way once more, because surely Wei Ying belongs on the freedom of the open road instead of a place with four thousand rules. 

As it is, Lan Wangji has to go to mediate between a nearby subsect of the Gusu Lan and a particularly difficult new governor, and finds himself spending three days without Wei Ying - His nights uncomfortably silent without the other man's now familiar chatter and unease thrumming beneath his skin.

He returns on the fourth day and lets his feet take him to Wei Ying's quarters. It's early enough that Wei Ying must still be asleep, but Lan Wangji does not exactly care - just needs to see, need to hear Wei Ying, assure himself that he's there right now.

He knocks on  the door and waits for the shuffle of bedding and Wei Ying's muffled groan, only for it to never come. Knocks again, slightly louder this time, and receives no answer - Reaches out with his Qi to find that the room inside is in indeed empty.

Surely, surely Wei Ying have not left - won't just leave without saying anything to him. Surely, Lan Wangji thinks, he must just be on a Night Hunt with the juniors and have not returned yet, even though he knows that there were no Night Hunts slated at this date. His heart hammers in his chest as he turns and walks the familiar paths of the Cloud Recesses, he has to find Sizhui -

And then, Lan Wangji hears Wei Ying's laugh.

He stops, turns his head to the open courtyard beside him, and finds Wei Ying standing on the middle, surrounded by a circle of junior disciples and having just ended a flick of his hand - a simple levitation Talisman fluttering gently to the ground.

Lan Wangji watches, feet rooted to the ground, as Wei Ying explains the simple mechanics of how they can channel their own Qi and modify it through the writing in the talisman, how it's something akin to using a simple tool to do what your body would have more difficulty doing on its own. The heads around him nods in silent unison, eyes rapt as Wei Ying demonstrates once more, asks the disciples around him to follow the flow of his Qi from his Core to the talisman - The line of energy made visible with an array Lan Wangji knows Wei Ying's been working on for some time now.

"Ah, Hanguang-Jun!" Wei Ying's call makes Lan Wangji realizes that he's been staring, and he blinks imperceptibly before he nods back to the disciples around Wei Ying, who neatly turns on their heels and salute him in a barely-restrained chorus of "Hanguang-Jun!"

"Wei Ying," he acknowledges.

"All right, and that is actually it for today! Thank you, you all did so well! Make sure to take a little break before you run - I mean, don't run, it's forbidden! - to your next class!"

The ring of disciples around him bows and quietly patters away, some stealing wide-eyed glances at Lan Wangji's direction, and some of the youngest ones seeming to hover near Wei Ying until the man pats their heads or shoulders with an indulgent smile. 

Lan Wangji stares some more.

"Surprise!" Alone at last, Wei Ying spreads his arms towards him, and then, seeing the few Disciples still milling about in the courtyard, pitches his voice lower with a grin "Surprise! I'm teaching morning classes! Aren't you proud of me for waking up so early, Lan Zhan?"

"I see."

"Your brother has been suggesting it for some time, actually, but I had to do some serious reading first and cultivate this tiny tiny Core properly before I could talk to the Head Teacher - you know, so I'm not a total embarrassment," he laughs, clasping his hand gently to his center, where Mo Xuanyu's bequeathed Golden Core thrums, a small, steady flame now where there used to only be a flicker "But oh Lan Zhan, I've only been with the older disciples all these times and I didn't know how cute your little Lans are! Were you that cute, huh? When you're small?"

"Ridiculous," Lan Wangji huffs, no heat behind it as he turns on his heels "Has Wei Ying had breakfast?"

"Aaaah Lan Zhan, you can't just keep not answering me and then offer me food!" A beat, and then Wei Ying is falling into step easily beside him "But if Lan er-gege is making breakfast, might this one request those spicy tofu that he made last week? Those are divine."

"Mn."

"But really, I can't believe you usually do your practical classes in classrooms when it's so nice out here everyday! You see how excited those kids are to be outside, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying muses, fiddling with a lock of his hair in lieu of the absent chenqing "Oh! maybe later in winter we can also do things outside - You think Head Teacher Lan would allow us to use the back mountain for snow slides and a practical demonstration of the force talisman?"

"Wei Ying can try to convince him," Lan Wangji replies serenely, but all he can hear, all he can think about is that Wei Ying wants to be here in the winter. That Wei Ying will still be here in winter, and it stills the thrum of unease in his chest, makes it flutter down and settle as it had the very first day Wei Ying came back to the Cloud Recesses.

**

Once in a while, there are days when Lan Wangji wakes up and finds that he has no pressing matters to attend to - No audiences as His Excellency nor as acting Sect Leader of Gusu Lan, no unfinished correspondences nor classes to teach or drills to supervise, no Night Hunt to prepare for.

Lan Wangji has come to cherish these days, using them to actually sit down and think - To sift more carefully, more broadly through the reports and matters surrounding him, to find patterns and repeated problems in the jumble of everything. It's better still with Wei Ying there, bouncing off sometimes outlandish, oftentimes brilliant ideas and solutions to Lan Wangji's observations, drawing him out of the Jingshi when his brows become too furrowed to pile him with bunnies or spar with him, light on their feet as they flit from tree to tree in an echo of a night under the moonlight, so long ago.

This particular day, Lan Wangji is content to stroll through the Cloud Recesses, taking the time to simply enjoy the quiet din of activities around him. It's high summer, and Cloud Recesses is again host to a class of foreign disciples - A much more diverse class than what their Clan is used to, now that he has decreed that smaller sects can also send in their disciples, using Wei Ying's connections with the myriad of local sects spread around the land.

"Ah Lan Zhan, imagine how much more friends we'd have, back then, if we've gotten to meet this many people!" Wei Ying had said, eyes sparkling as they took in the colorful bustle of so many sect colours in the Gusu arrival hall.

How much more united we would have been, and how much more understanding of each other, Lan Wangji thinks, and just when he feels the vestiges of melancholy creep into his chest, he hears Wei Ying's voice.

Of course he does.

Lan Wangji approaches the direction of the voice, finding Wei Ying with a group of older Lan disciples, bundles in their hands indicating they've probably just came back from an excursion in Caiyi. It is, after all, also a rest day for the study program today, and Sizhui told him that the disciples always looks forward to Wei Ying "chaperoning" them for romps in nearby Caiyi.

Instead of the usual smiles and quiet back-and-forth, however, Lan Wangji feels tension - Even from this far, each of the disciple's face somber and their gazes restless.

"But Senior Wei, Yongqin was not…wrong," a voice rises quietly, and Lan Wangji is surprised to see that it's Lan Kun, one of the older disciple of their batch and one of their most rule-abiding. It would be a rarity to hear him raise his voice a little, much less to contradict an elder, even if Wei Ying is not, strictly speaking, an elder disciple of the Lan clan.    

Wei Ying, on his part, only smiles - small and warm and unhurried - Looks around their empty surroundings and veers off the path, sits himself down on a large shaded patch of grass and pats the ground before him invitingly.

"Why don't we sit down for a bit?"

The disciples shuffle around him, kneels with back straight from years and years of meditation and proper posture. One disciple in particular - Lithe, sharp-eyed Lan Yongqin - sits a little farther away, head bent down and shoulders hunched, as if he's trying to make himself smaller and berating himself for it.

"A-Kun is right," Wei Ying begins, "Yongqin was not wrong in defending Sicheng from the Jin disciple. It is wrong to insult others in vain, and it's very wrong when you assume or label someone's morality and worth based on their parentage."

Ah. Lan Wangji can see it now - Dong Sicheng had been taken in into the Lan clan only recently, the unclaimed offspring of a small sect leader - and Lan Wangji unwittingly remembers Jin Guangyao. Remembers the whispers that followed his youth and the pain, the absolute tragedy that could have been avoided if only the Cultivation world had been just a little kinder to a bastard child named Meng Yao.

There is melancholy in Wei Ying's eyes too, as the selfsame memory probably crosses his mind as well. "But we all know, you all know because you're all Lans, that there are rules," he holds up his fingers, ticking them off as he goes "Fighting without permission, succumbing to anger, acting impulsively, and causing damage are all prohibited. And there's a reason for that too, because Yonqing's action has consequences. Does anyone know what the consequences might be?"

The disciples around Wei Ying fidgets, and finally it's Lan Yongqin himself who answers, "Punishment, possible expulsion," he grits out, "Potential intersect problems and relationships being strained, our sect losing face because their disciple is…unruly."

Yongqin looks up, eyes warring between defiant and defeated and for a moment, Wei Ying merely looks at the boy quietly, before he begins.

"I have a dear friend - kind as anything, braver than anyone I know - who once did what Yongqin did. Felt that a friend of his was treated unjustly, and fought to protect this friend."

Oh.

"He broke a lot of rules, actually hurt a lot of people, ended up hurting himself dearly in the process."

Wei Ying stops, takes a breath, smile becoming rueful and something tightens in Lan Wangji's chest.

A disciple finally pipes up after a long while, raising his hand by habit "Senior Wei, please. What…what happened then?"

Wei Ying's smile spreads, becomes warmer "His friend was eventually proven to be innocent - and everyone made amends at the end. But by then, a lot of damage was already done. Even though he was right, the consequences of his actions were also real. Sometimes, you can be wrong and right at the same time. And it is as confusing as it sounds" Wei Ying laughs. "But here's the thing - When you know that you can also be wrong, that there can be bad consequences to what you do, you still have the choice to do it anyway. To choose and bear the consequences and ease it for anyone who might be affected"

"And that's why my friend is the bravest person I know, because he knew what would happen, and did it anyway to do what he feels is right and just"

Silence blankets the small clearing, lulling them with the gentle rustle of leaves and the faraway sound of cicadas before Wei Ying finally breaks it with a bright, clear voice.

"Disciple Lan Yonqin."

The youth straightens, shoulders resolute and chin now held high as he salutes.

"You'll report to the Head Disciple for your punishment after dinner is done and will reflect on your actions accordingly, while I take care of the matter with sect Leader Jin."

Lan Yongqin nods solemnly, bows quiet and low in front of Wei Ying.

"But. This one would also like to thank you. It's a very brave thing to stand up for one's friend and point out the injustice of assumptions and vile prejudices, and I am very proud of you."

Lan Yongqin raises his head slowly, sharp eyes suspiciously bright as he nods again at Wei Ying's gentle smile.

"All right! Now that that's done, you boys can run along and get yourselves cleaned up before dinner, or I'll never hear the end of it from Teacher Lan!"

The disciples shuffle quietly to their feet, Lan Yongqin giving one last bow to Wei Ying before Lan Kun and several other disciples throws their arms around his shoulders and leads him away, leaving Wei Ying alone on the grass.

Lan Wangji hesitates, wonders if he should approach Wei Ying or continue with his walk.

"Lan Zhaaan," Wei Ying takes away the choice from him, and Lan Wangji's eyes flit below him, finding Wei Ying's eyes trained directly at him despite the foliage obscuring his figure, a bright grin splitting his face "Isn't eavesdropping forbidden in the Cloud Recesses?"

Lan Wangji alights from his higher vantage point and lands gently on the grass, arranges his robes around him neatly as he sits down beside Wei Ying.

"I hope it's okay if I just referred to A-Yuan for Yongqin's punishment - I mean, I know brawling is a pretty serious offense and your Uncle might not agree with me on this," Wei Ying himself had, of course, been expelled from their own study year due to his fight with Jin Zixuan "But you know, it didn't exactly happen in Cloud Recesses premises, and I managed to talk with the Jin young master and eh, convince him that I know sect leader Jin very well and he won't be amused that any of his disciples are calling people names in the streets of Caiyi."

Lan Wangji wants to remark that these days, his uncle is, grudgingly, silently making peace with Wei Ying's presence in his own way, but thinks that Wei Ying having this knowledge might just set that back several months, if Wei Ying were to start something on the lines of calling him "Uncle" or Heavens forbid, actually try to touch Lan Qiren.

"Wei Ying handled it well. I'm sure Shizui will determine an appropriate punishment," Lan Wangji says instead, and then, after a comfortable silence have blanketed them both, he adds "But Wei Ying was too kind, about his friend."

Wei Ying has seen his scars, of course, with the amount of time they spent tending to each other's wounds as their night hunts together become more and more frequent - Had gone very still behind him as one day, too weary from their hunt, he had forgotten to be discreet and had let Wei Ying tend to his back. Wei Ying stayed silent for a long time behind him, his gaze heavy and roaming across his back, as if counting the scars. Had finished dressing Lan Wangji's fresh wounds in the silence, even as Lan Wangji holds his tongue, holds his tears.

They had fallen asleep together that night, side by side against the edge of the bed, hands entwining in silent acknowledgement, and had never talked about the matter again.

Until now. 

"But that's true! Lan Zhan is the bravest person I know," Wei Ying smiles at him, tentative and so, so earnest that Lan Wangji feels the knot in his chest return, tighter than before "You stood against the entire Cultivation World to fight for something you believe is true and just - If that's not bravery, then I don't know what that is."

"Excessive praise is-"

"Not excessive when it's true," Wei Ying's smile turns teasing, loosens at the edges as he nudges Lan Wangji's side and Lan Wangji snorts delicately.

"No, really, Lan Zhan, thank you. Thank you."

"Wei Ying shouldn't feel indebted," Lan Wangji replies, perhaps too quickly, words slipping directly from the roiling cavity of his chest because Lan Zhan is afraid, afraid that his gratitude is part of what's keeping Wei Ying here with him, as if it wasn't something that Lan Wangji would have done all over again "No thank yous between us."

"Not indebted."

"Mn?"

"Not indebted," Wei Ying says again, reaching a hand to envelop Lan Wangji's lightly "Just thankful that I get to meet you, Lan Zhan."

Side by side on the grass, the shade of a maple tree and the sound of cicadas surrounding them in warmth, hands intertwined like summer vines, Lan Zhan wishes he could convey too, how thankful he is that he gets to meet Wei Ying, that he gets Wei Ying to be here, with him.

Wei Ying squeezes his hand gently, and Lan Wangji hopes that maybe, maybe Wei Ying already knows.

**

The first time Wei Ying wears the blue and white of the Lan sect, Lan Wangji almost forgets to breathe.

It isn't even the formally issued Lan disciple robes, merely an outer layer of white with pale azure linings, worn over the familiar red of Wei Ying's usual inner robes to make Wei Ying blend in better as part of the Gusu Lan contingent for this conference, and yet -

"Look Lan Zhan, I'm wearing your colors!" Wei Ying beams and twirls in front of him, elucidating Lan Wangji's exact thought and not helping him in his predicament whatsoever. Somewhere behind them, he hears Lan Jingyi's muffled groan.

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums noncommitally as he motions Wei Ying to follow him into the conference hall - lest he part with other, much more incriminating thoughts currently jostling for space in his head. Wei Ying falls into step beside him, already bemoaning how hard it's going to be to survive the banquet without spilling sauce all over all these pristine white cloth.

He doesn't.

The white robes stays, even after the conference is over, even after they've come back to Gusu and resume their daily routines - Each cut in the shorter, lighter style that Wei Ying prefers, cinched tightly over the waist and easy to move in, white over red in a contrast that is as eye-catching, if not more, than Wei Ying's signature red and black.

Lan Wangji wonders about the robes, wonders if Wei Ying had managed to convince the Quartermaster to sew ones to his exact preferences the way he often does - not many people are immune to Wei Ying's charm when he really sets his mind to it, afterall - up until he comes back to the Jingshi and finds Wei Ying bent over a swathe of white fabric, needle in hand and a string of thread caught between his teeth.

"Ah Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying greets him around the thread in his mouth "I boiled some water for your tea, you mind brewing it yourself? Tricky part, right here."

Lan Wangji pours water over his tea, all the while not moving his gaze from Wei Ying, fingers deft and steady with his needle, tongue peeking ever so slightly from between his teeth, as he is wont to do when he's concentrating. He moves his gaze over Wei Ying's clothes - Seeing them in a new light now that he knows where it came from - follows the neat, simple stitches, the pale azure threaded along its hems and feels a new kind of warmth blooming inside his chest because not only had Wei Ying worn his colors, he had sewn those colors himself, thread by thread with his own hands.

"The clothes, did Wei Ying sew them himself?" He finally asks, when Wei Ying ties a decisive-looking knot on the underside of the fabric and beams at his handiwork.

"Oh, these?" He tips his head to his own body, hands still full with needles and fabrics, "Yeah - Learned it in the Burial Mounds -" Wei Ying's smile gentles, takes on that quiet, faraway look it gets when the people he talks about are no longer around "Granny used to say - Wei Wuxian, if you don't learn to thread that needle right, then you'll just have to run around naked when your clothes rip again!, and that was that, really. No better incentive to learn than the risk of being naked in that kind of weather. You know I made all of A-Yuan's clothes myself too!"

"The clothes suits Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says, before he can stop himself, and Wei Ying preens.

"Well yeah, you know your own body the most, after all! And not everyone can get fancy bespoken robes from posh seamstresses!" Wei Ying waggles his eyebrows at Lan Wangji's own pristine robes, which, true enough, were measured and made for him by his family's personal seamstress in Caiyi.

Lan Wangji hums in assent, then pauses for a moment, remembering "Mn. Not always."

Wei Ying's eyes turn disbelieving, "What! Are you telling me that Hanguang-Jun has not always worn perfectly-tailored robes to swan around gracefully around the Cloud Recesses? Blasphemy!"

"Junior disciples gets the same sets of robes issued for the whole class, had to make do with what was given," his lips quirk with the memory, "Mine was always too short."

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying all but squeals, "Lan Zhan! How cute you must have looked, a tiny Jade of Lan, going around with your ankles showing! Ah, Lan Zhan! The things I would give to see you then!"

Lan Wangji takes away the fabric and the needles from Wei Ying's hands, lets the other man laugh until tears stream down his face and he sprawls on the Jingshi's floor.

The next time he finds Wei Ying wielding his needles and threads, he is at one of the smaller, more secluded courtyard near the disciple's quarters, surrounded by a ring of junior disciples - each with their own set of sewing kit and scrunched-up faces of concentration.

"Does that fit better?" Wei Ying has just finished putting on an outer robe on a disciple, and small Lan Yangyang nods enthusiastically, eyes almost sparkling at how the hem of his sleeves falls right over his wrists. Wei Ying reaches out, and folds back the hem to show where the original edge was tucked in and sewn.

"Everyone look, later on we can undo the stitches over here when Xiaoyang grows up like a bamboo shoot!" The boy in question grins, beams proudly as Wei Ying pats his head before his eyes goes round and he falls into a clumsy salute.

"Hanguang Jun!"

Lan Wangji opens his mouth, but Wei Ying beats him to it.

"Ah, ah, remember to be careful! Set down your needles properly first before you do anything else!"

Chastised, the disciples carefully folded their fabrics with the needle secured inside before rising up to salute him in a chorus of "Hanguang-Jun!"

"Please carry on," Lan Wangji tells the disciples around him, who each shuffles to their previous places

"I'll be done in just a bit, Lan Zhan. Can't have little Lans going around with their ankles showing, can't I?" Wei Ying winks at him quietly, before bending down to check the work of another disciple doing the collars of his robes.

For a moment, Lan Wangji is content to watch the scene before him, imagines Wei Ying sewing A-Yuan's clothes as the toddler plays with Chenqing, remembers how Wei Ying had made shoots grow and buried little A-Yuan in soil and made a home in a land that is all but ashes and bone.

In the gentle quiet of Gusu's courtyard, Wei Ying looks just as home in his white and reds as he had seen him so many years ago in the Burial Mounds, and Lan Wangji's traitorous, hopeful heart wonders, wonders if this time, he'll stay.

**

Lan Wangji notes, with not a small amount of fondness, that Wei Ying now wears his red and white garb even when venturing out of the Cloud Recesses, chenqing hanging off his belt side-by-side with the jade pass token he had given him and Yunmeng Jiang's clarity bell. The sight settles something inside Lan Wangji, makes him feel like there is a part of Gusu, a part of him that Wei Ying carries with him every time. 

"I heard A-Xian is out?"

Even after weeks, Lan Wangji still marvels at his brother's familiar address to Wei Ying. Something, it seems, must have happened along the regular visits where Wei Ying ferries Lan Wangji's Sect correspondences to him. He remembers Wei Ying telling him that Lan Xichen reminds him of the late Jiang Yanli - and Lan Wangji supposes he can see the resemblance. Finds a small comfort that his own brother, of all people, would fill at least a fraction of the emptiness left by Wei Ying's beloved shijie.

"There's some disturbance near Tangxi" Lan Wangji nods, sipping his cup of tea, this time tasting of lotus flowers that reminds him of Yunmeng - probably one of the many tea leaves Wei Ying brings for both him and his brother whenever he goes on his little adventures "Wei Ying is with Sizhui and Wen Qionglin to investigate. Should not take long."

They talk of the cooling weather, of Uncle's upcoming birthday, and of his brother's plan to slowly break his seclusion inside the Clan first before retaking his place as Sect Leader proper. Lan Wangji assures Xichen that there is no hurry, that Lan Wangji is still perfectly capable juggling being Chief Cultivator and acting Sect Leader in the interim, that Wei Ying is helping him with any extra workload and keeping the sect leaders in line.

At the last sentence, something gentles in his brother's eyes, his smile reminding him of days when Lan Wangji barely brushes the center of his brother's chest, when he would sit beside him on the porch of their mother's house until Lan Wangji finally takes his hands and they come back together for dinner.

"Wangji."

Lan Wangji places his cup of tea on the table, looks his brother straight in the eye.

"You know that A-Xian is very happy to be here, right?"

And he knows, knows that both of them are thinking of the same thing - the memories in their eyes but a reflection of one another's - Because even after years and years, sometimes Lan Wangji is still in that house surrounded by gentians, still looking at their mother's sad eyes, wishing, wishing with all his tiny heart that he could take her away and out of the place they call home.

Lan Wangji only nods.

"He wants so much for you to be happy too."

"I know," Lan Wangji whispers, even though he doesn't know exactly what to do about it.

**

When Lan Wangji arrives in the Library pavillion to find Wei Ying supervising a disciple's punishment, he takes a moment to quietly appreciate the small, poetic irony of it all.

"Finished with that rule? All right, last one-hundred lines!" There's the sound of rustling pages, and then from between the shelves, Lan Wangji sees Wei Ying triumphantly hold up a book for the disciple's perusal "Rule 621 : Love and Respect yourself. Now, why do you think this is pertinent to your particular problem?"

The disciple ponders this for some time, a small frown creasing his brows as Wei Ying looks on patiently "I understand the rule for not making damage and for not making assumption of others, because I did. But senior Wei, I don't…"

"Did you feel bad about making those assumptions of Yongqin?"

The disciple - Dong Sicheng, Lan Wangji realizes - nods fiercely, eyes bright despite the tight set of his jaw

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't fair of me, and I hurt him!" Sicheng whispers harshly, "A-Qin meant well, even got punished because he cares for me, and I punched him in the face just because I thought he pitied me."

"That's very well-said, A-Cheng," Wei Ying says gently, "But you know that everything you just said also applies to you, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think, just like Yongqin, you also meant well, try so hard to adjust with everything-"

Sicheng tries to open his mouth, but is stopped by Wei Ying's finger in front of him.

"Ah ah, let me finish. Dong Sicheng, you are a good boy - I have three classes with you, do you think I'm blind? You care a lot about your friends, try your best in everything, and you deserve not to get hurt too. Don't you think it's unfair if you aren't given the trust and good faith that you deserve…by yourself?"

Sicheng had ducked his head, and Wei Ying cants his own to follow the disciple's downturned gaze "If it wasn't fair for you to assume the worst of Yongqin, why is it fair for you to assume the worst of yourself, hmm?"

There's another soft rustling sound, and then Lan Wangji cannot see Sicheng's face anymore, hidden as it is by the wide sleeves of Wei Yings's robe - covering the boy's tears from the world. 

"I understand, Senior Wei," Sicheng whispers again, finally, voice wet and strained yet so, so relieved. Lan Wangji feels a pang of familiarity in the boy's tears - The absolute relief that maybe, maybe things can still get better, that he still deserves things, despite everything.

Lan Wangji sighs, and clears his throat, slipping out from behind the bookcase before him. Despite everything, eavesdropping is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, and it's only fair for Dong Sicheng to know that he's heard at least part of his plight to Wei Ying.

"Ah, Hanguang-Jun!" Wei Ying raises his head, smile immediately in place - bright and soft and Lan Wangji would like to think - meant for him "Is it time for lunch already? Would you mind going ahead while we finish this? I'll catch up just as soon as Sicheng here is done!"

Beside him, Sicheng's still red-rimmed eyes widens - his hands fluttering around him frantically "No, senior Wei should take his lunch now!"

"You gave all your steamed buns to me, now you'll be hungry!" Lan Wangji barely catches Sicheng's whisper before the boy blanches and looks in terror at him, because disciples on their punishments are not supposed to receive their lunch and Lan Wangji is, after all, his Sect Leader.

Wei Ying's face almost collapses in its attempt to hold off his laughter, and he ducks his head in a salute instead. "Very well! This One thanks Disciple Sicheng for his understanding" Wei Ying rises from his seat, "Don't forget to hand that over to the Head Disciple before your next class!"

They walk side by side to the Jingshi, and he can feel, even without looking beside him, that Wei Ying's eyes are dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lan Zhan, you must want to laugh at least a little bit."

Lan Wangji hums noncommitaly, keeping it to himself that he had expressed his amusements internally earlier on.

"Wei Ying understands the rules very well," Lan Wangji says, after some time. Even for him, it had been hard sometimes to truly understand the rules, to understand it in such a way that he feels right making it a part of himself instead of something that one simply must live by.

"Lan Zhan! You were there when I copied Lan sect rules every day for a month, I can't not understand them, they're practically chiseled into my brain!"

"Ridiculous," Lan Wangji snorts, almost by habit alone. 

"But hey," Wei Ying continues, heedless of Lan Wangji's dismissal "Rule 621 is pretty great yeah? I think I kind of love it. Might be my favorite rule! You have a favorite rule, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji pauses, looks at Wei Ying.

"The rules. You don't…hate it?" The question spills from Lan Wangji's mouth unbidden, as with everything when it's Wei Ying - Only Wei Ying, for whom his lips pull out words he's supposed to lock safely deep inside him, baring it to him, only to him.

"Hate it?" It's Wei Ying's turn to look at him, eyes wide and astonished. He takes a step in front of Lan Wangji, effectively blocking his path together with a hand that's suddenly on Lan Wangji's arm.

"How can I hate it when it's you, Lan Zhan?"

"Me?" Lan Wangji echoes the other man, glad that they've arrived in the courtyard of the Jingshi, where no passing disciple would be able to see how red his ears have probably become.

"Ah Lan Zhan, I know I complain a lot about these rules - How can I not, I wrote those every day for a month! But Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, these rules are…yours."

"I don't think I-" Lan Wangji mutters, only to be cut off by Wei Ying's gaze - intense and arresting on his "What I mean - Lan Zhan, you don't just read these rules and obey, you understand them and believe them and live by these rules and that's what makes you…you, Lan Zhan. How can I hate them when it gives me you?"

And really, Lan Wangji doesn't know how to respond to that in any possible way that does not break any of the rules in the discipline wall. So he nods and opens the door to the Jingshi, ushers both of them in, ears burning like it probably never has before.

Wei Ying had made a home for himself anywhere he goes - even when all he's been given was ashes and bones. Would it be too audacious to hope then, that even four thousand rules would not deter him?

**

Their last conversation stays in Lan Wangji's mind, made something bold and bright grow inside him - a shoot of vibrant red in the muted white and pale blue of his mind's landscape and oh, this is what his Wei Ying does. To grow things in impossible places.

The man in question slips into the Jingshi at seven, as he is wont to do every day now and Lan Wangji still marvels at the concept - that in this life, he has Wei Ying across from him each night, that he can hear his laughter and his brilliant ramblings and feel the warmth of his hand anytime he wants, and that perhaps, perhaps it is not something that he should fear.

"Lan Zhan!" He bounds from the door, eyes sparkling and his cheeks flush with the cold of Gusu's cooling autumn.

"Wei Ying," he begins, and the other man looks at him, eyes immediately attentive, as if the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice is enough for him to know the heaviness in his tongue, and Lan Wangji feels like his heart is about to burst with the unbearable fondness of being known.

Wei Ying sits down across him, accepting his tea to cradle the cup in his hands, eyes patient and gentle as he waits, waits from Lan Wangji to finally pull out the last pieces of his already crumbling fortress.

"Is Wei Ying staying?" He says, at last. And this time, Wei Ying understands.

"I am, Lan Zhan," he replies, looking straight at Lan Wangji "I am - I'm sorry it took so long and I'm sorry if I'm not conveying it clearly but I am here to stay."

"Why?"

Wei Ying blinks, as if taken aback, and echoes him "Why?"

"Wei Ying can go anywhere now," Lan Wangji blurts out, draws a deep breath, "Once, I wanted Wei Ying to come back to Gusu with me because Wei Ying would be safe - But Wei Ying is free to go anywhere now - I am not - I am not in a position to give Wei Ying the freedom he wants, he deserves," he looks at Wei Ying, looks at their surroundings, the pile of correspondences and the seal of the Chief Cultivator strewn between them helplessly, bading the other man to again, understand "Don't want - Never wanted to trap Wei Ying in any way."

The silence that follows his admission is so long and so strange in the space that Lan Wangji has now associated with Wei Ying's laugh and chatter, so much so that Lan Wangji has half a mind to say something, anything to break the stifling quiet.

"Lan Zhan" Wei Ying says slowly, finally "Do you realize that that was the most words you've ever spoken to me in one sitting?"

"Wei Ying," he chokes out.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan - What do I do with you," Wei Ying laughs, breathy and wet and so, so fond, his hands reaching out to envelop Lan Wangji's in his "You've got it all backwards, Lan Zhan."

"You know after - After Guanyin Temple, I was free to go. I could literally go anywhere. I could change my name, be a rogue cultivator, be a farmer, Lan Zhan - You know I'm past caring what people think of me."

Wei Ying pauses, looks at him "But you know the one place I was not free to go? The Chief Cultivator's side."

Lan Wangji opens his mouth to protest, but a finger alights on his lips gently.

"I know, Lan Zhan, I know you don't care either. But do you remember our promise? That we'll stand on the side of justice, protect the weak, and live with no regrets?"

Lan Wangji nods shakily, because there were times when those words were the only thing he lived for, the only thing dragging him on day after day.

"And there you are, Lan Zhan, the Chief Cultivator - You have so much chance, so much hope to do all that in the best way possible and I wanted, wanted to be there with you. Wanted to be free to be by your side, without anyone questioning why, without endangering you or your position."

"Wei Ying."

"You don't have to worry about my freedom anymore, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying lifts one of his hands, cups it gently, tenderly on Lan Wangji's face, as if he's made of spun glass, as if he's the most precious thing he's ever held.

"Everything I've been doing, is so I can be free to be with you."

Lan Wangji remembers the house with Gentian flowers, remembers how he had vowed that he would never, ever take away the freedom of anyone he might one day love - But then again, his mother has never had that freedom, had been stripped of any manner of choice from the very beginning.

But not Wei Ying.

Wei Ying has a choice now, in this second life of his, and Lan Wangji had not, had never dared hope that this time, Wei Ying would choose him.

"I-" Lan Wangji whispers, his words but a jumble of futile, inadequate things in the face of his thrumming, overflowing heart. And Wei Ying must have thought the same, as the hand on his face draws him closer until their lips meet and oh.

When they finally part for air, Wei Ying's eyes are sparkling against his, cheeks flushed and smile so bright that Lan Wangji wants nothing but to bask in it forever.

"So I'm staying, Lan Zhan," he whispers against Lan Wangji's cheek "For as long as you would have me."

"Forever," Lan Wangji says firmly, to Wei Ying's delighted laugh as the other man all but climbs the table between them and throws himself into his arms. Lan Wangji catches him, wraps an arm securely around Wei Ying's waist.

"Forever is a very long time, Lan Zhan, are you sure?"

"Mn," he murmurs, already drawing Wei Ying close to him again.

Lan Wangji kisses Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, and tastes freedom on his lips.

**