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This was Jin Ling’s fault.
That was Jiang Cheng’s first thought - and his second, too, when he saw a figure in black and red and flanked by Lan juniors like a crow overseeing a bunch of cygnets. Wei Wuxian’s presence had Jin Ling written all over it. Or, well, not that specifically. It was more that Wei Wuxian’s presence at the same night hunt that he’d invited Jiang Cheng to join had Jin Ling written all over it.
His nephew thought he was subtle. So far, Jiang Cheng had let him go on thinking it, because the alternative was having a conversation about why continuing to try to shove Jiang Cheng in Wei Wuxian’s direction, or perhaps vice versa, wasn’t a good idea.
They’d probably have to end up having that conversation anyway. This couldn’t keep happening. It was like Jin Ling thought if they were just in the same place often enough then - something, who knew what Jin Ling was trying to do.
He started to turn away, hoping to avoid Wei Wuxian’s notice and spare them both the ordeal, but Jin Ling spotted him first and said loudly, “Jiujiu!” which pretty well put paid to that idea. Wei Wuxian’s head came up from where it was bent over the Lan juniors, swiveling toward Jin Ling and then following his gaze to Jiang Cheng, who looked away before he saw his reaction.
“Jin Ling,” he said, which maybe should be Jin-zongzhu or maybe at least Jin Rulan for the sake of appearances, but for fuck’s sake, Jin Ling was still barely more than a child and if he was still Jiujiu then Jin Ling could still be Jin Ling, at least until he expressed a complaint about it.
He did notice the absence of Fairy as Jin Ling approached, and his certainty that this had been planned intensified. Jin Ling had gotten very considerate about his - about Wei Wuxian’s fear of dogs.
“There you are, Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said cheerfully, like Jiang Cheng was late, which he wasn’t.
“Where’s Lan-er-gongzi,” Jiang Cheng said, because if Wei Wuxian was here with the Lan cygnets then Lan Wangji almost certainly was as well, and he’d rather not be surprised.
“Oh,” Jin Ling said, sounding very pleased with himself, “he’s busy. Chief Cultivator stuff, I guess.”
One part of Jiang Cheng’s brain registered relief at not having to deal with Lan Wangji’s thinly veiled (mostly unveiled) hostility. Another part noted that that explained why he wasn’t hovering immediately beside Wei Wuxian. Yet another was vaguely surprised that a small thing like official business would keep him from hovering immediately beside Wei Wuxian at all times.
A very, very small part of him noted that Jin Ling really had turned into a sneaky, conniving little devil.
He considered calling Jin Ling on his plotting but decided against it. There wasn’t really any point; it was done, and they were both here, and he wasn’t about to run away. He could deal with Wei Wuxian’s presence.
Obviously.
Preferably while acknowledging him as little as possible. It would just be easier that way, for everyone.
His eyes slid briefly in Wei Wuxian’s direction and Jiang Cheng quickly jerked them away, but not before he caught Wei Wuxian looking at him too, Chengqing twirling around his fingers. There was a lump in his throat that Jiang Cheng swallowed very hard to dislodge.
“Jiujiu?” Jin Ling said.
“What,” he snapped. Jin Ling opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Nothing,” he said, altogether too innocently. “Nothing. Thanks for coming, Jiujiu.”
“You asked me to,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “Though I notice you didn’t mention who the other guests would be.”
“Oh,” Jin Ling said. “I didn’t?”
Jiang Cheng was going to throttle Jin Ling for this. “No. You didn’t.”
“Sorry,” Jin Ling said. He did not sound sorry. “I didn’t expect there’d be any problems. Is there a problem?”
Throttling was too gentle. “No,” he said. “There’s no problem.” He paused, and then said pointedly, “interfering in others’ personal lives is unlikely to do anything but get you into trouble.”
Jin Ling gave him a long, hard, and uncomfortably familiar stare. “Okay, Jiujiu,” he said.
Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. “So…?”
“Thanks for the advice,” Jin Ling chirped. “I’ll remember it if that comes up. I’ll talk to you later - I have go ask Sizhui about something.”
And he was off.
Brat, Jiang Cheng thought, and tried not to think about how much he had, just for a moment, looked like a-jie.
He glanced over in Wei Wuxian’s direction again, but his back was turned. He looked...happy. Relaxed and well-fed. Good for him. He was probably having a wonderful time cavorting with Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng wished him joy of it.
Wei Wuxian laughed. Jiang Cheng tensed.
He turned resolutely on his heel and stalked away, stomach bubbling.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other at all since that night in Guanyin Temple. Not much, and they hadn’t exactly talked, but they’d both been present when Jin Ling had officially ascended to sect leader, and they’d both been present at one or two other night hunts. They’d exchanged greetings at the last one. Polite. Formal. Lan Wangji nearby, looking at Jiang Cheng like he wanted him dead or at least grievously wounded.
Their paths had crossed, anyway. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in proximity to Wei Wuxian, so he wasn’t going to panic over it or anything. He’d finish this night hunt, they’d go their separate ways again, and he’d have a firm conversation with Jin Ling about being an interfering busybody.
It’d be fine.
They didn’t know exactly what they were hunting, only that people had been disappearing from this mountain recently. Some of them re-emerged, but they were shadows of themselves, unable to speak. Most, however, never reappeared.
Jin Ling was taking the lead, and Jiang Cheng was trying very hard not to be overbearing. Jin Ling’s authority couldn’t afford his desire to hover. Even if Jin Ling’s new status was exactly why he wanted to hover.
He was still so young. And even if he’d grown in confidence and developed a few more social graces, Jiang Cheng remembered too well how it felt to lead a sect that young, in a time of instability.
It was better for him to keep his distance. Better, therefore, that Jin Ling didn’t ask for his company.
He could be reassured by the fact that he didn’t ask for Wei Wuxian’s, either, though a moment later he felt very stupid about that. It would be better for Jin Ling to have Wei Wuxian with him. Just in case something happened, at least Wei Wuxian would keep Jin Ling safe. Whatever mess his thoughts became surrounding the general subject of his erstwhile - Wei Wuxian, on that matter Jiang Cheng was clear enough. And the knowledge that, whatever else Wei Wuxian thought, or did with his life, or did and didn’t feel, he would protect Jin Ling, was a profound relief to Jiang Cheng. Not that he would ever tell Wei Wuxian - or Jin Ling, for that matter - as much.
It still didn’t exactly make him happy to find himself on his own.
You should be used to that by now, said a nasty, bitter voice in the back of his mind, and he brushed it off as well as he could.
Focus. Think about the hunt.
People disappearing. Most didn’t return, and those that did came back not themselves. Nobody knew if those who had vanished were dead or not, since nobody dared anymore to go into this region seeking the missing. More than one monster at work, perhaps? One that caused the spiritual damage, and another that preyed on weakened victims? Or were those that returned only partial victims, survivors? Or it could be a monster at work as well as natural predators. Innumerable possibilities, and the simple truth was that they didn’t know enough for him to guess which was most likely.
Considering the weather patterns here, Jiang Cheng thought moodily, it might well be that at least some of the victims had just gotten lost and met some sort of accident. He scowled at the air. If this fog got much worse...it’d been clearer further down.
Which was strange. Fog collected in valleys and low places. As he climbed, it should be getting thinner, not thicker.
A prickle of unease spider-crawled down Jiang Cheng’s spine and he slowed, peering around. He sent out a sword glare from Sandu but it didn’t illuminate farther than two arm’s length in front of him. Sound was strangely muffled. For a moment he thought he saw patterns through the fog, something moving.
“Jin Ling!” he shouted, but his voice sounded muffled, too.
Jiang Cheng moved forward cautiously, Sandu drawn and held ready to attack. The air felt close and heavy, but nothing attacked, and other than that brief glimpse he might have imagined, he was the only thing moving.
No birds. No rustling in the undergrowth. The trees and bushes were barely more than shadows until he was practically on top of them. Jiang Cheng stepped carefully, lightly, mindful of traps underfoot he might not see until he was too late.
He realized abruptly that the ground was sloping down under his feet, which was wrong. He should be heading north, up the mountain. He had been heading north, and he hadn’t turned around - or he couldn’t remember turning around.
He stopped and reversed course, starting back uphill, moving through the vague shadows of trees.
“Jin Ling!” he called again, and then after a brief pause, “Wei Wuxian!”
No answer, just that strange and total quiet.
And somehow, he was going downhill again.
Jiang Cheng stopped. His skin was prickling, the mist damp on his skin. He closed his eyes, centering himself, then climbed onto Sandu and urged the sword up into the air. It felt sticky, like it was pressing him down, but he flew up anyway. It seemed to take a long time to break out of the mist, but eventually he did rise into clear sky.
Underneath him was a blanket of mist, thick white and nearly opaque. He could see the tops of some of the tallest trees, but nothing more.
If he waited here, maybe he would see a flare to give him a hint of someone’s location.
Or he might be waiting for nothing, while the others disappeared into this fog, never to return.
Jiang Cheng lowered himself back down and started moving again, pausing every five steps to reorient himself. Scanning for movement, for any sign of life, senses straining–
He heard sounds to his left and pivoted in that direction. “Who’s there?” he barked out. “Show yourself!”
“Jiang Cheng?”
Wei Wuxian materialized out of the mist. Jiang Cheng leveled Sandu in his direction and Wei Wuxian froze, eyes widening.
“Ah,” he said.
“Prove you’re real,” Jiang Cheng said harshly. Wei Wuxian blinked, then his eyes cleared and he straightened up.
“Even if I weren’t, I might be able to just get things out of your head,” he said. Jiang Cheng glared at him, and he said, “Aiya, all right. When you were a kid one time you tried to take a frog home for a pet but – your sister made you put it back.”
Jiang Cheng suppressed a flinch. Of all the things Wei Wuxian could’ve said - he remembered that. He remembered Jiang Yanli saying it belongs in the lake, a-Cheng, it won’t survive out here. And something hit wrong about Wei Wuxian saying your sister, too. Like he could hear the echo of shijie underneath, unspoken but still there.
He lowered Sandu, slowly. Wei Wuxian’s relief was visible.
“You’re alone,” Jiang Cheng said.
“So are you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was with Sizhui and Jingyi, then this mist showed up and they were gone. I’ve been wandering around looking for somebody since. You’re the first person I’ve found.”
Jiang Cheng gestured at Chengqing. “Couldn’t you use that?”
Wei Wuxian looked briefly irritated. “You think I haven’t been? There’s something about this stuff that’s suppressing...everything.”
Jiang Cheng glared at him, frustrated, but he couldn’t hold it for all that long. Jin Ling was somewhere in this, and while logically he knew that Jin Ling was a capable cultivator, his whole chest still seized up in terror at the thought of him in trouble.
“Jin Ling’ll be all right,” Wei Wuxian said.
“Obviously,” Jiang Cheng snapped, annoyed that he’d been so transparent. Wei Wuxian glanced away quickly with a little laugh.
“Of course, of course,” he said. Jiang Cheng shifted his weight, and they stared at each other. Jiang Cheng wished briefly that he was still on his own.
Really? Jiang Cheng thought, in his own direction. Are you going to be so pathetic about this? You have work to do, so focus and do it.
“We need to get clear of this mist,” Jiang Cheng said. “Or else find its source. Any bright ideas?”
“I was trying to use the flow of resentful energy,” Wei Wuxian said, straightening up, his expression settling into a familiar expression. “Look for a concentration, or some kind of vortex…”
“Any luck?”
“Sort of,” Wei Wuxian said. “I thought I’d found something, but then I heard you.”
Jiang Cheng’s hackles rose. “I wasn’t in any danger.”
The look Wei Wuxian gave him was oddly sharp, though it only lasted a moment. “I don’t think anyone should be alone in this,” he said. It was a perfectly sensible thing to say and it still grated on every one of Jiang Cheng’s nerves, which made him feel stupid, which made everything worse.
“Fine,” he said. “Well, here we are. Can you find it again?”
“Probably,” Wei Wuxian said. “I can definitely try. But I think we should stick together. Be careful not to get separated. I have a bad feeling that if I lost you now I wouldn’t find you again.”
Several things occurred to Jiang Cheng at once, among them the thought I know the feeling, isn’t it lucky that it already happened to me once so I’m used to it. “Fine,” he said stiffly. Wei Wuxian laughed, though Jiang Cheng thought it sounded a little strained.
“Aiya,” he said. “Well, there’s some motivation to find our way out quick. Wouldn’t want to be trapped together like this for long, eh?”
Jiang Cheng’s stomach twisted. “Right,” he said flatly. “Go on, then. Do your - whatever.”
Wei Wuxian’s smile seemed to slip but then he was raising Chenqing to his lips and playing. The sound was strange, not quite out of tune but muffled, not how Jiang Cheng knew it should usually sound. He closed his eyes, trying to use his own awareness, but that felt muffled, too.
“This way,” Wei Wuxian said, lowering the flute. Jiang Cheng squinted in the direction he pointed, though he couldn’t see any difference in the fog.
“Are you sure?”
“Honestly? No,” Wei Wuxian said. “But it’s my best guess. Let’s...leave a mark here, though, of some kind, so we can tell if we end up going in a circle.”
Jiang Cheng nodded and drew Sandu, carving a mark deep into the ground where it wouldn’t be easily or accidentally erased. Then looked to Wei Wuxian, only realizing after he did so that he was waiting for direction. Annoyed, he sheathed Sandu too hard.
“I guess it’s not going to get better than that,” he said shortly. “Let’s go.”
They moved through the fog in near silence. It itched at Jiang Cheng, the quiet, but he wasn’t going to be the one to break it, not when Wei Wuxian - Wei Wuxian! - wasn’t even making a token effort at conversation. And sure, it wasn’t like they were on a casual stroll in the woods or anything, but he hadn’t even offered any speculation about what they were dealing with.
Are you too good to talk to me, now, Jiang Cheng seethed. Nothing to say, now that you’ve decided all our debts are settled and we’re finished–
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. It was another life.
Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he said. Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth. Or I wouldn’t have come, he filled in.
“I didn’t know you were. Jin Ling-” he cut off before he insulted his nephew in front of Wei Wuxian and said, “Jin Ling didn’t mention it.”
“To me either,” Wei Wuxian said. His smile looked forced. “Do you think he’s trying to make us talk to each other?”
“He’s an idiot,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and then remembered that he wasn’t going to insult his nephew in front of Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian, who laughed.
“He means well,” he said. Fondly. Jiang Cheng felt like he’d been punched and he looked away. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Wei Wuxian’s face fall. “I’m just saying, don’t be too upset with him.”
“I’m not,” Jiang Cheng said irritably.
“That’s good,” Wei Wuxian said, and then they both fell silent again.
It used to be so easy, Jiang Cheng thought. When did it stop being easy? When did I forget how to talk to you?
Probably around the time Wei Wuxian had started lying to him about everything because he’d made the unilateral decision to sacrifice his golden core and never bothered asking Jiang Cheng what he thought about it. That’d probably had something to do with it.
The part where he’d looked down at Wei Wuxian with Sandu drawn and told him to die probably had something to do with it, too.
Jiang Cheng swept those thoughts aside.
“What do you think’s going on,” he said. It came out sounding angrier than he meant it to. Wei Wuxian glanced at him.
“Not sure,” he said. “I thought some kind of elemental spirit and I still sort of think that, but it’s not like anything I’ve run into before. You?”
Jiang Cheng shook his head. “The mist has a disorienting effect. Is the mist itself what is causing the disappearances, or is it a weapon of some kind for another creature?”
“Good question,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng’s hackles rose.
“Don’t patronize me,” he snapped. Wei Wuxian gave him a startled look.
“I’m not! It’s all the right questions, I just don’t have any answers either.”
Jiang Cheng immediately felt like a fool and looked away. He cleared his throat. “Let me know if you come up with any,” he said after a brief silence.
“I was planning to,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng tried not to hear it as mocking.
Silence was safer.
“Jiujiu!” Jiang Cheng heard, far away. His head snapped around and he was relieved to see that Wei Wuxian’s did too - so he hadn’t imagined it.
“Jin Ling!” he shouted back. “Jin Ling, can you hear me?”
“Jiujiu!” he heard again, and whirled toward Wei Wuxian.
“Careful,” Wei Wuxian said. “It could be an echo, or something mimicking him.” His voice was clearly strained, though, his gaze scanning like he might be able to see through the fog if he tried.
“Would you hesitate if it was the Lan boy?” Jiang Cheng snapped, and tried roaring again, “Jin Rulan!”
Wei Wuxian raised Chenqing abruptly to his lips and played one long, piercing note that seemed to bore all the way through Jiang Cheng’s head. He almost dropped his sword.
The mist cleared, a little. “What did you do?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Do it again-”
Something launched itself out of the fog at Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng swept Sandu out and lopped off one of the grasping arms as Wei Wuxian skipped back, followed by its head. They both looked down at the corpse: vaguely human-looking, the color of the mist. Its face had only the vaguest impressions of eyes and nose, most of the space taken up by a wide mouth full of jagged teeth.
“What the fuck,” Jiang Cheng said.
“What do you think are the odds,” Wei Wuxian said, “that this one’s all by itself?”
It was not by itself.
It was not by itself at all. They were being swarmed by the things, and if they weren’t particularly hard to kill, there were a lot of them. Jiang Cheng let instinct take over and carry him into the fight.
It took him longer than it should’ve to notice what he had done, without thinking. He’d fallen into a form that would only work with someone else compensating for the weaknesses it left in his defenses, and only with someone who knew his style well enough to do so.
He hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t follow his lead. Or wouldn’t remember, or wouldn’t notice, or-
It wasn’t seamless. He’d changed, and Wei Wuxian was, at first, paying almost as much attention to Jiang Cheng as he was to the actual fight.
But it was easier than he expected. And neither of them had said a word.
As if it was natural. Like this was how it was supposed to be, even if Jiang Cheng had by now spent more time fighting without Wei Wuxian than he had fighting with him.
It still felt better like this.
Jiang Cheng wrapped Zidian around the neck of one of the creatures and jerked, snapping its spine. Sandu cut off a reaching arm. He glanced at Wei Wuxian, who was using talismans, wielding Chengqing like it was a sword–
“What are you doing?” he snapped into a brief lull. Wei Wuxian gave him a startled look and Jiang Cheng gestured at the flute. “What are you waiting for, permission?”
“I can’t play and,” Wei Wuxian started to say.
“If you can get rid of those things with that thing, I’ll make sure they don’t kill you while you’re doing it,” Jiang Cheng interrupted. “We’re wasting time. Jin Ling-”
He stopped himself.
Wei Wuxian only hesitated a moment before he jerked his head in a nod, raised the flute to his lips, and began to play.
Even after watching him in Guanyin Temple, even after giving him back the damn thing, the first notes still made Jiang Cheng’s insides lurch with a kind of reflexive dread that associated that sound with nothing but bloodshed and horror and grief. It passed quickly, though, because he needed to focus on keeping those claws and teeth (those teeth) out of Wei Wuxian’s body.
Because whatever he was doing it was working, or at least the damn things seemed to really not like it. They shrieked like they were trying to drown out Chenqing’s song, and the discordant cacophony made Jiang Cheng’s ears hurt.
He shut it out and concentrated on trying to cut them all to pieces. Keeping half an eye on Wei Wuxian as he played, spinning to snap Zidian at a creature behind him, cutting down another. They seemed to just appear out of the fog; no matter how he strained his eyes Jiang Cheng couldn’t even see shadows moving in it.
“Where are they all coming from?” Jiang Cheng asked, only to realize afterward that Wei Wuxian couldn’t answer him, not without stopping playing. The horde seemed to be thinning, and not just for the dead bodies it was leaving behind; he could see several of the things scampering off back into the mist, retreating.
“Just keep doing what you’re,” Jiang Cheng started to say, half turning as he cut one almost in half that was still trying to fight. The thing was that in this soup, visibility was pretty fucking limited.
One of the creatures lunged screeching out of the fog at Wei Wuxian. He took a graceful step back, playing not pausing even for a moment. Jiang Cheng moved in to intercept the attack and saw, belatedly, where the ground vanished into open air. Which it did, apparently; he hadn’t noticed.
“Wei Wuxian!” he said, driving Sandu through its body and ripping it free, turning. “Don’t--”
It felt like he was seeing it in slow motion. Wei Wuxian taking a step back, overbalancing, starting to fall. For a fraction of an instant he thought is this what it looked like when and he didn’t let that thought finish before he reacted. Jiang Cheng dropped Sandu without thinking and flew across the intervening distance, reaching for Wei Wuxian and already thinking you’re going to fall short. You’re not going to make it.
His fingers grasped Wei Wuxian’s wrist. His arm almost jolted out of its socket.
Flat on his stomach, arm extended to its full length, Jiang Cheng stared down at Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian stared up at him.
No, said an odd part of him, strangely removed from the proceedings. This isn’t happening. This is a nightmare and you are going to wake up from it.
He’d had those dreams. Back at Nightless City, Wei Wuxian hanging over the edge of the cliff but this time he was the one holding on, not Lan Wangji. And Jiang Cheng kept trying to pry his own fingers loose but couldn’t make them let go.
Only those were dreams, and he wasn’t waking up.
“What the fuck was that?” Jiang Cheng shouted, because Wei Wuxian was still quiet. “Why weren’t you looking where you were going?”
“I was looking at the thing attacking me! I didn’t know there was a cliff right there,” Wei Wuxian said. “Okay. Okay, this is fine, I’ll just-” He moved to reach up with his other hand, seeking a handhold, but he was using Jiang Cheng’s arm as leverage and his shoulder didn’t appreciate it. He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip and trying to pull, but lying like he was, he couldn’t get much leverage.
Jiang Cheng felt something shift under him. “Wait, wait stop,” he said, alarmed. “Don’t move, stop moving-”
Wei Wuxian froze. Jiang Cheng held very still. Was the ground under him slightly uneven, tilting downward more than it had been? He wasn’t sure. He did know that his shoulder joint didn’t appreciate having a grown man’s full body weight pulling on it. So far it was holding up, though, and he reinforced his grip with some of his spiritual energy.
The thought occurred to him, absurdly, that it was actually Wei Wuxian’s spiritual energy, if you squinted, but he shunted that away and pushed it down and that wasn’t how it worked anyway.
“Aiya,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m appreciating the new perspective but-”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said. “I think - I think the cliff isn’t completely stable.”
Wei Wuxian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “oh.”
They just stared at each other in silence.
“Any idea how far down it is?” Wei Wuxian asked. Jiang Cheng’s back seized up.
“No,” he snapped. Wei Wuxian gave him a wounded look.
“I was just asking,” he said. “It’s a reasonable question.”
“You were asking because you were trying to figure out if it made sense for me to drop you,” Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian didn’t immediately argue, which made anger bubble up in Jiang Cheng’s chest. “I should drop you!” he said. “It’s a stupid idea.”
“If the cliff’s not stable,” Wei Wuxian said, naturally sounding full of that particular Wei-Wuxian confidence that always made Jiang Cheng feel certain that he knew what he was doing and had a plan.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, disgusted. “I’m not too weak to hang on until I think of something better. I don’t want Lan-er-gongzi on the warpath because you were stupid enough to fall off a cliff.”
Wei Wuxian’s face did something and Jiang Cheng felt like he’d kicked himself in the teeth. Jiang Cheng wondered if Wei Wuxian could see it too. If he dreamed about that moment. What his face had looked like from below, sword raised to strike.
If that was what he was, in Wei Wuxian’s memories.
“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said, with an awkward and inappropriate laugh. “He wouldn’t like that.”
He already hates me, Jiang Cheng thought, but saying it would just make him sound like he was feeling sorry for himself and he wasn’t, he didn’t care, Hanguang-jun could go fuck himself, or, well, go fuck Wei Wuxian and they could cheerfully prance off into their happy life together and never talk to Jiang Cheng again and that would be fine.
Aloud he just said, bitterly, “wouldn’t want to upset Lan Zhan,” and a moment later wanted to slap himself. Wei Wuxian’s face closed off.
“Jiang Cheng,” he said, and it wasn’t the way he’d said Jiang Wanyin at the shrine but it still sort of felt the same. Oh, yes. Because Wei Wuxian would hurry to anyone else’s defense but not his own shidi, no, of course not.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said again. “I’m trying to think.”
The silence felt strange and dangerous. Like it was begging for something to fill it, and normally Wei Wuxian would fill it but he wasn’t. Jiang Cheng avoided looking at his face because he didn’t want to know what expression was on it.
Or worse, didn’t want to know he couldn’t read it.
This wouldn’t be a problem if you still had your fucking golden core, was what he thought first and then immediately regretted it, because the reason Wei Wuxian didn’t was because he’d shoved it in Jiang Cheng and the reason he’d done that was because Jiang Cheng had thought he was protecting him and it was all so stupid and messy and there wasn’t any fixing it so it was just better to not think about it at all.
He fed a little more spiritual energy into his grip to make sure it was still holding fast.
“How’s the cliff feel,” Wei Wuxian asked, his voice very neutral. Jiang Cheng clenched his back teeth.
“Fine,” he said. “Just fine.”
“That’s good.”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng snarled.
“I didn’t say anything!”
“I know what you’re not saying and it’s bullshit,” Jiang Cheng said. “I already told you I’m not going to let go so why don’t you try to come up with a better idea?”
“I wasn’t-”
“Shut up!”
Wei Wuxian, finally, shut up. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, on maintaining his strength, on not wondering if any more of those things might be coming or how long it’d take his spiritual power to run out.
In his mind’s eye he saw Wei Wuxian pull against Lan Wangji’s restraining grip, twist, tear himself free. His throat closed and he tightened his grip, just in case Wei Wuxian got any stupid ideas about making more unilateral, self-sacrificing decisions.
“Can you send up a flare?” Wei Wuxian asked.
“If I weren’t lying on them right now,” Jiang Cheng said through his teeth. “What about you? Don’t you carry around any Lan Sect flares?”
Wei Wuxian’s face did something strange and after a moment he said, “yeah, but I’m not sure about fumbling around trying to find them while you’re. You know.”
He’d known, obviously, and it made sense, that Wei Wuxian would carry around Lan Sect flares now that he was practically married to Lan Wangji, or whatever was going on with the two of them.
It still set off a burst of bitterness on the back of his tongue.
“Yeah,” he said, after a moment too long. “Yeah. Right.”
Of course he didn’t have any Jiang Sect flares. When would he have gotten them? Who would’ve given them to him? Jin Ling? (He could’ve. Jiang Cheng knew for a fact that he had a stock of them.) Whatever. It wasn’t even that important. It was just some flares, not like he was going around in Gusu Lan white and blue. If he started doing that Jiang Cheng would-
Would what? What’re you going to do? What, exactly, do you think you’d do about it, and why would Wei Wuxian give a fuck about your opinion, anyway, not it’s-in-the-past-gongzi-
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice a little strained. “You’re, ha, going to start breaking my fingers, there’s a little space between that and dropping me, isn’t there?”
Jiang Cheng jerked back to himself and realized that both his jaw and his fists had been slowly tightening and he was, indeed, squeezing Wei Wuxian’s hand much harder than was necessary.
Though making himself loosen his grip even a little was a struggle, his brain screaming at him that if he let go just a little that’d be it, Wei Wuxian would slip away from him again and there wouldn’t be any more chances.
Chances for what? More awkward silences?
“If more of those things come back we are so doomed,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng almost hissed at him that he couldn’t just say things like that, didn’t he know he was practically inviting the worst to happen?
“Shut up,” he said. And then, “I’m going to try pulling you up again.” The cliff felt steady enough. It hadn’t shifted further. Maybe it’d gone as far as it was going to go.
“Okay,” Wei Wuxian said after a long pause, though he sounded anything but sure. Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and twisted, trying to use more of his body than just his shoulder to haul Wei Wuxian back onto solid ground.
The ground under him sunk and Jiang Cheng froze again. He watched, horrified, as a chunk of rock and dirt broke off and tumbled down into the obscuring mist.
Wei Wuxian started laughing. Jiang Cheng felt a burst of incandescent rage.
“What the fuck is funny,” he snarled. “What do you think is so funny-”
“I mean,” Wei Wuxian said, still giggling, “just - look at us. It’s funny because it’s so - I mean, you’d think it was enough, wouldn’t you?”
“Think what was enough,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Enough awful,” Wei Wuxian said. “You know, I figure you already thought you were having a bad day and now–”
“I was having a perfectly fine day before you went and tripped into thin air,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said. “Yeah, sure.”
Jiang Cheng could feel his face getting hot. “Don’t act like you know anything about what kind of day I was having,” he said.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, in a remarkably calm tone for a man hanging off a cliff, “I know what your ‘I’m having a bad day’ face looks like.”
“Maybe you don’t anymore,” Jiang Cheng snapped.
The silence felt like a gaping hole.
“Maybe I don’t,” Wei Wuxian said, in a different, odd, voice. There was a horrible, twisting pain in Jiang Cheng’s chest that said no, you’re not supposed to say that.
“I don’t think,” Wei Wuxian said after another long silence, “that this is the conversation Jin Ling was picturing.”
Jiang Cheng looked away. Or started to, but that just meant looking down, and wondering how far down it was to the ground, and then he was thinking about Wei Wuxian’s hand slipping out of his own, Wei Wuxian falling, Wei Wuxian’s horribly broken body at the foot of a cliff and this time there would be a body.
“No,” he said. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. “Probably not.”
They both went quiet. Jiang Cheng’s shoulder was starting to hurt.
“Any news from Yunmeng?” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Cheng stared at him.
“That’s what you’re going to ask?”
“Yes?”
“You’re hanging off a cliff and you want gossip?”
Wei Wuxian’s lips quirked a little. “Do you want to talk about something else?”
Yes, Jiang Cheng thought wildly. Yes, I do, I want to talk about a-jie, I want to talk about what the hell happened, I want to talk about secrets and lies and what the hell you meant telling me to forget about it, Wei Wuxian, did you think I could just, but as usual it was so much that he couldn’t say any of it and he didn’t think he wanted to anyway.
“What we need to do is think of a way to get out of this,” he said instead. “Can’t you - I don’t know, do your whistling thing?”
“Aiya,” Wei Wuxian said. “My whistling thing.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said aggressively. “Like - what about Wen Ning? You managed to get him to show up on Dafan Mountain even though he was in chains in a fucking prison at the time.”
Wei Wuxian’s expression hardened a little. “I’m not going to treat him like a puppet,” he said, and before Jiang Cheng could say anything added, “and that was using a dizi as an amplifier, anyway.”
“Useless,” Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian scowled at him.
“Hey!”
“The all-powerful Yiling Laozu,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Shut up,” Wei Wuxian said. “I can’t believe you’re bullying me at a time like this.”
“It’s not bullying if it’s just true,” Jiang Cheng said, and then realized what he was doing.
It was like fighting together. Easy and familiar, like falling back into the familiar movements of a practiced routine. He could almost hear a-jie giggling, saying all right, all right, both of you.
His heart fell out of his chest and plummeted over the cliff.
“How did we get here,” he thought, and then realized it’d been aloud.
“Well,” Wei Wuxian said after a moment, and if his voice was light Jiang Cheng could hear a touch of strain in it. “Jin Ling invited us both on a night hunt, and–”
“That’s not what I meant.”
The quiet was deafening. Wei Wuxian’s eyes moved to the left, away from Jiang Cheng. His fingers flexed.
“What we need,” he said, “is some rope.”
Jiang Cheng could’ve torn his hair out. “Wei Wuxian,” he said. Wei Wuxian sighed.
“You already know, Jiang Cheng,” he said. “What else is there to say?”
Jiang Cheng’s chest heated like a fire had been lit inside his ribcage. “What else is there to say,” he echoed. Wei Wuxian gave him that small, unhappy smile that Jiang Cheng was sick to death of seeing. “What else is there to say,” he repeated, and there, Wei Wuxian’s face flickered with the recognition of approaching danger.
“Jiang Cheng,” he said.
“You hardly said anything!” Jiang Cheng shouted. Wei Wuxian blinked, mouth slightly open, but Jiang Cheng plowed right over whatever he was going to try to say. “You just said to forget about it. Forget about it. Did you think that would work? Or, well, maybe it would for you since your memory’s so bad but not all of us are so fortunate.”
He realized, distantly, that this was probably not the time or place to be having this conversation. Too late now.
“And then you just go wandering off without another word,” Jiang Cheng said, like he hadn’t had the chance to say something and kept his mouth shut, too. “You and Lan-er-gongzi back to Gusu, and–”
And that was where he stopped, because everything else was just too fucking much. Because he couldn’t say if it was another life what does that mean about this one?
Wei Wuxian’s eyes were a little too wide.
“Fuck you,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said again.
“No, really,” Jiang Cheng said. “Fuck you and your stupid - maybe if you’d just tell Jin Ling what you want he’d get the hint and stop trying to fix something that doesn’t exist!”
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, “I didn’t-”
But whatever Wei Wuxian didn’t Jiang Cheng didn’t hear, because with a horrible screech one of the monsters lunged out of the mist and sank its teeth deep into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.
He could’ve held on if it was just that, probably. (Or maybe he couldn’t’ve.) But the weight of it knocked him sideways, and both his and Wei Wuxian’s hands were slick with sweat, and the reflexive spasm of Jiang Cheng’s fingers weakened his grip.
“No,” he said desperately, despairing, instantly stretching forward, reaching, but Wei Wuxian was already out of reach, vanishing into the mist below.
Something in Jiang Cheng’s chest snapped like a brittle stick. He might’ve screamed, maybe.
He let anger fill up the space that it left and wipe everything away.
There was nothing left for him to kill. There’d just been the one creature, at least right now. A stubborn last survivor.
Like you, huh?
It was just him and the fog and the edge of the cliff, blood dripping off his fingers. Move, snapped a harsh voice. Go down. He could still be alive and every moment that passes, but he felt frozen, stunned, caught in the teeth of the unreasoning thought that if you don’t see what happened then it didn’t happen.
“Jiang Cheng!”
His breath caught in his chest. He held perfectly still, listening, because that very faint shout hadn’t sounded like Jin Ling.
“Jiang Cheng!”
His stomach jumped into his throat and Jiang Cheng ran for the edge and leapt into a blind fall. He landed lightly on his feet, the ground closer than he’d expected; he spun wildly in circles but he couldn’t see a damn thing further than the length of his arm.
“Wei Wuxian!” he bellowed. “Wei Wuxian, where the fuck–”
“Here,” called a faint-sounding and familiar voice. He charged toward it, hoping against hope that he wasn’t being deceived, but there, was that a lumpy shadow on the ground–
Jiang Cheng almost literally tripped over Wei Wuxian, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere on the ground. Sitting up, grimacing, and rubbing one ankle.
“I think I broke something,” he said sadly.
Jiang Cheng choked. “You,” he said. “You–”
Wei Wuxian squawked when Jiang Cheng dragged him to his feet, clutching at him, his eyes squeezed closed and his nose burning, and if he cried now he was going to go ahead and just drop dead right here.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian wheezed. “My ribs.”
Oh, fuck, Jiang Cheng thought, his brain reengaging properly. He let go immediately and took two steps back.
“What the fuck,” he shouted. “You couldn’t say something? Couldn’t yell up that you weren’t dead? I should break every bone in your body, I thought you’d gotten yourself killed and I’d never hear the end of it–”
“I tried yelling!” Wei Wuxian protested.
“Then you could’ve yelled louder,” Jiang Cheng said.
“I didn’t know what was going on with you! I didn’t want to distract you if you were fighting for your life or something and since I’m fine - mostly–”
“Mostly?” Jiang Cheng snarled dangerously, and then remembered what Wei Wuxian had said about breaking something and said, “sit down. I hope you broke your leg so you spare me the effort.”
Wei Wuxian sat down. He was looking at Jiang Cheng with a sort of funny expression on that it felt like he should recognize and didn’t.
“What?” he snapped. Wei Wuxian shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just...glad you’re okay.”
“I’m not the one who fell off a fucking cliff,” Jiang Cheng said, and swept his robes out of the way to crouch down and examine Wei Wuxian’s ankle, which did, indeed, seem to be broken. “Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, looking around for something to splint it with.
“I wasn’t trying to,” Wei Wuxian said.
“And here I thought maybe it was habit-forming,” Jiang Cheng said sharply, and then felt sick. Wei Wuxian went quiet, and then let out a strained laugh which was somehow worse.
“Not yet, anyway,” he said brightly.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said miserably. Wei Wuxian shut up. He did find some branches that’d make do for a very shitty splint, but it was something, anyway.
“On the bright side,” Wei Wuxian said, “I think I know where the mist is coming from now.”
Jiang Cheng jolted. “What? Where? How?”
Wei Wuxian pointed. Jiang Cheng looked in that direction, but he couldn’t see anything that looked different.
“You know how I mentioned a vortex?” Wei Wuxian said. “I can feel it now.”
Jiang Cheng gaped at him a moment, then shook himself. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“I just did!” Wei Wuxian said defensively. Jiang Cheng huffed angrily but decided to let that go.
“Then we should,” he started to say, and stopped, glancing at Wei Wuxian’s splinted ankle. Should go deal with it, he’d been meaning to say, but throwing an injured Wei Wuxian at an unknown enemy seemed…
His insides squirmed unhappily.
“Should go check it out? Absolutely,” Wei Wuxian finished. “Give me a hand up?”
“You’re hurt,” Jiang Cheng said, like maybe Wei Wuxian had forgotten.
“Only a little,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ve had worse. And if there’s trouble you can just–”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, because he didn’t want to hear any suggestions from Wei Wuxian about what he was supposed to do in case of trouble, no matter how serious they were or weren’t. “Where’s that damn flute of yours?”
Wei Wuxian shook his head, and Jiang Cheng got up. “Yell if you see anything,” he said tersely, then added, “loudly.” He walked in expanding concentric circles until he found Chenqing lying apparently unharmed on the ground.
Briefly, he remembered finding it at the base of another cliff. Imagining destroying it, only to tuck it away, hide it, telling no one that at least one of the Yiling Laozu’s spiritual tools still existed.
He shook that thought off and returned to Wei Wuxian, who thankfully hadn’t gotten himself killed or something in the five minutes Jiang Cheng had been gone. “Here,” he said, shoving it in his direction, and after a moment Wei Wuxian took the flute and tucked it into his belt and started to get up on his own.
“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng said waspishly. “You’re going to-” and then gave up and just decided it was more efficient to move rather than trying to argue. He pulled one of Wei Wuxian’s arms across his shoulder, put his own arm around his body, and pulled him up to his feet, deliberately thinking very little about everything he was doing and primarily focusing on the physical motions. What his own body was doing. It could be anyone he was supporting. He’d do this for any Jiang disciple who was injured in a night hunt–
(But he’s not a Jiang Sect disciple, is he.)
“I can walk,” Wei Wuxian protested.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, not letting go. “I wasn’t planning on carrying you.” He focused on keeping them moving in the direction Wei Wuxian had pointed. Hobbling along, very aware that both his hands were occupied and if anything attacked him he would have to drop Wei Wuxian to draw his sword.
“That whistling thing you do,” Jiang Cheng said. “How powerful is it?”
“Decent for some things,” Wei Wuxian said. “Provided there’s...material to work with, and I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be a problem here, at least.”
Jiang Cheng grunted, pretending his skin wasn’t crawling. “Good to know,” he said, and then stopped talking.
You were talking a lot up there before he fell, weren’t you?
He didn’t exactly want to revisit it.
They walked. Or, well, hobbled.
It felt too quiet. Too empty.
Maybe he should say something.
Because I’m so good at that. He’d never been the talker, between the two of them. Now that Wei Wuxian wasn’t talking to him it felt like he’d forgotten how to start.
“How’ve things been,” Wei Wuxian said at length. His voice fell strangely flat and muffled. “You didn’t say.”
Really? Jiang Cheng wanted to say. That’s where you’re going to go? ‘How’ve things been?’ What kind of inane, pointless–
“Fine,” he said. “They’ve been fine.”
“Uh-huh,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’s good.”
Fuck, this was horrible.
“The lotuses are going to be flowering soon back - in Yunmeng, right?” Wei Wuxian said. There was a lump in Jiang Cheng’s throat. It was becoming difficult to speak past it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just about. Maybe a month. Summer’s coming late this year.”
“Mmhm,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’ll be nice.” He sounded sort of wistful. The lump in Jiang Cheng’s throat got bigger. He remembered with a spike of agony standing over a muddy pond in the Burial Mounds, staring at the ripped up remains of lotus plants.
You could come. You could come and visit and see for yourself. It would be so easy to say. It should be so easy. He didn’t say it.
“Jin Ling says you visit him at Jinlintai fairly often,” Jiang Cheng said.
Wei Wuxian glanced sideways. “I drop by when I’m in the area,” he said. “I don’t think they quite know what to do with me there.”
“Who does know what to do with you,” Jiang Cheng said, almost automatically. Wei Wuxian beamed at him.
“Lan Zhan,” he said, and Jiang Cheng wanted to growl. Right. Yes. Lan Zhan.
He looked away.
“He’s a good kid,” Wei Wuxian said after an empty pause.
“I know that,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Reminds me of you sometimes,” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Cheng turned a sharp eye on him. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like that. Other people had observed the same thing, always with a smile, like he should be flattered, or amused.
What he always thought of was the people he’d heard say of him he takes after his mother, doesn’t he. The smiles seemed very similar, and he’d known even as a boy that it wasn’t praise.
“Is that so,” he said flatly.
“Mmhm,” Wei Wuxian said. There was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes distant. “Makes me wish–”
He cut off, the faint smile vanishing, gaze cutting back to Jiang Cheng. “Aiya,” he said. “Whatever. The point is that he’s a good kid.”
Wish what, Jiang Cheng desperately wanted to ask. Makes you wish what, finish your damn sentence, but he just pressed his lips together and went quiet again. He was so tired. Exhausted, like there were weights on his limbs dragging him down.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said slowly. “Maybe you should–”
Jiang Cheng rounded on him. “If you’re going to say leave–”
“You could move faster,” Wei Wuxian said. “Get out of this, find help. And in the meantime if anyone comes here then–”
“No,” Jiang Cheng said. “No, absolutely the fuck not.”
“Jiang Cheng–”
“No,” he said again, louder. “And you’re not going to talk me into it so would you just–”
Him pushing you away isn’t anything new, though, is it? He’s been doing that for years.
“What do you want,” Jiang Cheng blurted out, and then wanted to swallow his tongue. He didn’t look at Wei Wuxian, instead staring into the mist, not that there was anything to see there.
“Want from what,” Wei Wuxian said. He sounded cautious, like he was expecting a trap. Jiang Cheng’s stomach twisted, trying to turn inside out.
“Nothing. Forget it,” he said, and then spilling out of his mouth like spitting blood, “you’re good at that, aren’t you?”
This time the silence felt like a wound. Only for a moment before Wei Wuxian laughed, but that just made it worse.
“It’s not funny,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s not fucking–”
He broke off, flexing the fingers of his right hand. He saw Wei Wuxian’s eyes drop - watching Zidian, he thought, for sparks.
“I’ll talk to Jin Ling,” he said, after another, longer silence, his voice quieter, more serious.
“About what,” Jiang Cheng said.
“He means well,” Wei Wuxian said again, like Jiang Cheng didn’t know that, like Jiang Cheng didn’t see what Jin Ling was trying to do, like he didn’t recognize it and think you, me, and a-Cheng. He gritted his teeth and said nothing.
“I can explain–”
“Explain what,” Jiang Cheng said. His voice sounded brittle and strange even to him. “Maybe you can explain to me while you’re at it.”
“To you?” Wei Wuxian said, sounding confused, and then, “you know. Explain that he shouldn’t…”
He trailed off. Jiang Cheng’s throat tightened and his stomach twisted.
“Shouldn’t what,” he made himself say. Like digging his fingers into a wound. Say it, he thought, I want to hear you say it, because once he actually did then - then it would be over and everything would be easier.
Not caught in this - in-between place.
That he shouldn’t keep trying to force us back together. Shouldn’t keep trying to resurrect something that’s dead, that’s been dead for years, if it was ever even real at all.
He didn’t dare look at Wei Wuxian, who hadn’t continued speaking. “Shouldn’t what,” he repeated. “What are you going to tell Jin Ling he shouldn’t do?”
More silence. Finally, quietly, Wei Wuxian said, “he shouldn’t feel like he has to fix anything.”
“Anything,” Jiang Cheng said. Still pushing. Wei Wuxian grimaced.
“I’ll tell him that the way things are right now it’s probably better to give you some space from me.”
“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly. “So it’d be for me. That’s so generous of you, Wei Wuxian, to spare me, you think I can’t–”
A flash of anger showed in Wei Wuxian’s eyes and Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he had never been so relieved to see an emotion in his life. “Isn’t that what you want, Jiang Cheng? What do you want me to say?”
I don’t know. I don’t know what I want you to say, I don’t know what I want, I don’t know.
Jiang Cheng expelled a breath from his lungs, a hollow opening up in his stomach.
“I don’t know,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth.
Wei Wuxian was quiet for a moment, and then made a choking sort of sound, not quite a laugh. “Neither do I,” he said.
They stared at each other. A giggle welled up in Jiang Cheng’s chest, awful and hysterical and unwanted, and he tried to hold it down but he just - couldn’t. He couldn’t. He started laughing, and then he couldn’t stop, his chest starting to hurt but it was just…
It was so stupid. Everything. All of it.
“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian said, sounding a little concerned.
“It’s just–” he could barely get the words out, gasping in little hiccups between. “It’s just - funny. You don’t know, and I don’t know, and I don’t know how you do it, how you just keep on skipping ahead and never looking back, you died and you’re still here now with, with everything you wanted–”
“That’s not true,” Wei Wuxian interrupted.
“Isn’t it?”
“There’s still things I...want. Would’ve wanted.”
“Like what,” Jiang Cheng said, laughter trailing off into gasps, finally. “Like what.”
Wei Wuxian went quiet and Jiang Cheng heard that echo again. Wei Wuxian yelling shijie! as he flinched back from Fairy. Would’ve wanted.
“Right,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly. “Don’t say, I can guess.”
“It wouldn’t be for me,” Wei Wuxian said abruptly, and utterly nonsensically. Jiang Cheng squinted.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Wei Wuxian said, and belatedly it clicked in Jiang Cheng’s head, give you some space from me.
“Do you ever wonder about what would’ve happened if Jin Zixun hadn’t gotten in the way?” Wei Wuxian said. His voice sounded sort of faraway, enough that Jiang Cheng actually checked to see if he’d somehow lost him.
I try not to. “Sometimes,” he said, quiet, like maybe Wei Wuxian wouldn’t hear it.
“Maybe it wouldn’t’ve changed anything,” Wei Wuxian said. “I couldn’t...maybe it wouldn’t’ve changed anything.”
Couldn’t leave the Wens, Jiang Cheng filled in. That was the problem, wasn’t it? That had always been the problem.
“You planted lotuses,” he said. He didn’t mean to, exactly. It was just crowded out, maybe, by all the things he hadn’t and couldn’t say, this entire time. Wei Wuxian gave him a weird look and Jiang Cheng immediately regretted saying anything, because of course when he’d seen them…
“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said. “Little bit of home, I guess.” He let out an uncomfortable sort of laugh. Jiang Cheng tripped on his own feet and just avoided falling face first to the ground.
Home.
He wanted to grab Wei Wuxian and shake him and shout, why didn’t you come back? Why haven’t you come back? But he knew why, in Wei Wuxian’s place he probably wouldn’t either. He’d never actually said, had he, never said you could come to Yunmeng if you wanted, there’s a room with your name on it gathering dust and if you don’t take your stuff out of it I’m going to dump it all in the lake–
I missed you. I miss you.
“Only you,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice weirdly strained, “could grow fucking lotuses in the fucking Burial Mounds out of a bunch of - corpse dirt.”
Wei Wuxian’s mouth twitched a little toward an uneven smile, but it looked realer, at least.
“Hey,” he said after a moment. “Only you could build a sect up from ashes to stronger than it’s ever been. So.”
Jiang Cheng felt a little like he’d been punched in the throat and almost dropped Wei Wuxian.
He just - said that. Like it was nothing.
Yeah, well, I couldn’t have done it without you, or at least your golden core warred with you were supposed to be there, it would’ve been so much easier with you there warred with of course I did, I had to, and I’m actually good at this, dammit. Needles pricked at his eyes.
“How would you know what the Jiang Sect is like,” he said, a little choked. “Spending all your time in Gusu and Lanling. Aren’t you practically a member of the Lan Sect these days?”
“Ha,” Wei Wuxian said. “No. I think that’d be too much for Lan-xiansheng to take without losing it.” He gave Jiang Cheng a strange, sideways sort of look that Jiang Cheng ignored. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and then closed it.
The lotuses will be flowering soon, Jiang Cheng imagined saying. Maybe you should come and see.
“I,” he started to say.
A violent rush of energy rippled through them both, knocking Jiang Cheng back a step - and then it was gone. They glanced at each other.
“What was that,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng shook his head, considered their pace so far, and decided that Wei Wuxian’s dignity could get fucked.
“Come on,” he said. “Let me just carry you, we’ll move faster.”
Wei Wuxian stared at him. “Haha,” he said, like he was testing to see if Jiang Cheng was joking. Jiang Cheng set his mouth and his jaw and did not waver.
“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “if something shows up to attack us I’ll just drop you.”
“Oh, thanks,” Wei Wuxian said, though it still sounded a little off.
“It just makes sense,” Jiang Cheng said ruthlessly. “We’re wasting time. What if–”
He didn’t finish the sentence, and for a moment he thought Wei Wuxian was going to try telling Jiang Cheng to just leave him here and maybe this time he actually would but after a long pause he just nodded.
It was weird. It was awkward and uncomfortable and Wei Wuxian’s legs were a little too long to make it easy to carry him but he could do it, and a part of Jiang Cheng was screaming what are you doing, what are you doing, but not loudly enough to stop him, apparently.
He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Wei Wuxian was quiet.
Their sudden emergence into daylight dazed him, and Jiang Cheng stopped dead, momentarily confused and disoriented.
“Jiujiu!”
Jiang Cheng just kept himself from dropping Wei Wuxian, managing to set him down on his feet instead. He gaped at Jin Ling running toward them holding Suihua, and there was Lan Sizhui and the other Lan juniors, and Jin Ling’s entourage.
“A-Ling?” he said, almost on top of Wei Wuxian’s, “Sizhui?”
Jin Ling’s stride hitched a little, glancing at Wei Wuxian and then back. “What happened to you?” he demanded, almost accusatory. “Where’ve you been, you missed the whole thing–”
Wei Wuxian let out an exhausted sounding laugh; Lan Sizhui’s eyes widened and now he was hurrying over as well. “Aiya,” Wei Wuxian said. “After all that, the kids wound up taking care of it all by themselves.”
Jiang Cheng could feel his face getting hot. “We’d’ve been here sooner if you hadn’t been such an idiot,” he said.
“Wei-qianbei!” Lan Sizhui said, beelining for Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian made a valiant attempt at standing properly upright that didn’t work terribly well. Jiang Cheng had to steady him again. “Are you all right? You–” He cut off and glanced at Jiang Cheng somewhere between suspicious and nervous.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Wei Wuxian said.
“You broke your fucking ankle,” Jiang Cheng said.
“You make it sound like I meant to!”
Jiang Cheng glared at him. Wei Wuxian made a face back at him and for a sickening, stomach-plunging moment he imagined turning to see a-jie hiding her mouth as she tried not to smile, eyes sparkling–
He looked away, seeking out Jin Ling, who was looking them both over with an expression that managed to be simultaneously worried and pleased.
“Wei-qianbei,” Lan Sizhui said, and Wei Wuxian interrupted.
“Sizhui, Sizhui, don’t look like that,” he said. “I really am all right, no need to fuss. I’ll just sit down and rest a bit before we go; you can tell me all about what happened.” He tugged a little at Jiang Cheng’s arm and he realized that he was still holding onto him.
“No,” he said abruptly. Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Sizhui all swiveled their heads to look at him with almost comical speed.
“No?” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “No to what?”
“You’re not-” he set his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere until someone sets that ankle. A doctor,” he said, when Wei Wuxian opened his mouth. “And–” Keep going. “And Lotus Pier is closer than Jinlintai, so you’re coming with me.”
He didn’t let it be a question. Didn’t let himself hesitate or sound uncertain or like he was saying anything other than what he was. He could see Jin Ling out of the corner of his eye radiating - smug pride, like he had anything to be either smug about or proud of.
“That sounds reasonable,” Jin Ling said. “Why don’t we all go?”
Lan Sizhui gave Jin Ling an odd look, and Jin Ling gave him a nod that apparently answered some question, and both of them looked at Wei Wuxian, who was looking at Jiang Cheng with a strange expression.
“Are you sure?” he said quietly.
Jiang Cheng scoffed too loudly. “What’s there to be sure about? I’m not letting you go limping off like this. It just makes sense.”
Lotus Pier was never supposed to be closed to you forever, Jiang Cheng thought, even if of course it had been and he’d done everything in his power to make that clear, but he hadn’t meant it, even when he had–
Somehow he’d just been hoping that Wei Wuxian would cross that line anyway, the way he always had because he’d always known when a line wasn’t a line.
Maybe not anymore. Maybe that understanding had gotten lost somewhere along the way along with everything else.
Jiang Cheng couldn’t say come back, come home.
But he could take him there.
Of course, when they got there, Jiang Cheng dumped Wei Wuxian on Peng Mingzhu and fled. Oh, sure, it was the reasonable thing to do, he didn’t need to get in the way. He had things to do, a message to send to Hanguang-jun that Wei Wuxian was fine, thank you, not in need of rescuing, and there’s no need to come swooping in yourself, stay the fuck away from my house.
Jiang Cheng gave it maybe a day before he arrived.
Of course, he’d barely managed to finish sending the message before Jin Ling tracked him down.
“Jiujiu,” he said, “what’re you doing?”
“Informing the esteemed Hanguang-jun that Wei Wuxian is here and safe,” Jiang Cheng said curtly.
“And now?” Jin Ling asked. Jiang Cheng grunted, no ready answer coming to him. He itched to go back and hover over Wei Wuxian, to...but he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. If Wei Wuxian wanted to talk to him he could find Jiang Cheng easily enough. Or get word to him. Bringing him here - ought to say enough.
Coward.
“Uh huh,” Jin Ling said, with obvious judgment. “Okay, Jiujiu. So what happened with you and Wei-qianbei anyway?”
Nothing, Jiang Cheng almost said, but instead he said, “none of your business.”
Jin Ling’s expression only got more stubborn in response. “Why not?”
“Why–” Jiang Cheng glared at him. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did.”
“You mean invited two of my uncles on the same night hunt with me?”
Jiang Cheng choked on that for a couple seconds before he managed to overcome it. “You’re meddling.”
“Meddling in what,” Jin Ling said, unconvincingly, and then, “Anyway, now that you’re finished sending that message you probably want to go check on how Wei-qianbei is doing.”
“No I don’t,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’ll be fine.”
The look Jin Ling gave him was profoundly disappointed. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make that face at me, a-Ling.”
“What face,” Jin Ling said.
“Out,” Jiang Cheng said more firmly. Jin Ling didn’t immediately move.
“Jiujiu,” he said, aggrieved, “you were doing good. Don’t be stupid now.”
“Brat!” Jiang Cheng barked. “Where did you learn to talk to your elders like that?”
“Sorry, Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said, though he didn’t sound all that apologetic. “ I just mean that I don’t think you need to be scared of Wei-qianbei or anything.”
“Scared of- I’m not scared of him!”
“Uh huh,” Jin Ling said. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said.
“Yes, Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said. Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and then expelled it loudly. You don’t understand, he wanted to say. It’s complicated. It’s complicated and ugly and I don’t know if–
But he’d just sound like a whiny child if he did. And he wasn’t going to whine to his nephew.
“Get lost,” he said. “And stick your nose in someone else’s business.” Jin Ling’s expression flickered a little toward hurt.
“Fine,” he said. “I just thought–”
He stopped, and grimaced, and then turned around sharply.
“If you’re going to go talk to him,” Jiang Cheng said, “tell him if he tries to walk out of Lotus Pier on that ankle I’m going to break both his kneecaps.”
Jin Ling paused.
“Tell him yourself,” he said, like a challenge, and swept out.
Jiang Cheng made his way to Wei Wuxian’s old room and let himself inside. It looked too clean. He remembered the cluttered mess of Wei Wuxian’s cave in the Burial Mounds when he’d come to visit and his guts twisted.
Little bit of home, I guess.
Fuck.
He turned around and walked to the infirmary in a bit of a daze. He didn’t know what he was doing but he thought of how it’d felt to watch Wei Wuxian disappear, falling away from him.
Isn’t that what you want, Jiang Cheng?
He thought about the strange swooping feeling in his stomach when he first saw Wei Wuxian’s face, unmasked, and knew him for who he was. Terror, rage, a sickening spike of joy.
Maybe he should’ve considered the last one more.
He didn’t announce himself, though maybe he should have. Wei Wuxian was sitting up and trying to put on his left boot, wincing.
“Stop that,” Jiang Cheng said, and Wei Wuxian’s head snapped up, his expression satisfyingly startled. And then - a spike drove through Jiang Cheng’s stomach - nervous. They were both gone fast, though, replaced with a smile.
“Ahh, haha,” Wei Wuxian said. “I was just–”
“If you want to go somewhere, you can ask,” Jiang Cheng interrupted. And then added, ruthlessly if with a pang, “what would Lan Wangji say if he saw you walking around on an injury like that?”
Wei Wuxian put his foot slowly back down. Of course that worked, Jiang Cheng thought, tasting sour vinegar.
“Okay, okay,” Wei Wuxian said with a faintly wounded air. “You don’t need to be like that.”
“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t like this,” Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian pulled a face at him, but Jiang Cheng had that feeling again, the strangely distant one like he was watching the two of them at a remove, watching them play themselves, or a version of themselves that was over and gone.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said abruptly. Wei Wuxian leaned back on his hands.
“Pretend what?” he said.
“That you’re,” Jiang Cheng started, and then stopped and tried again. “That we’re,” but that wasn’t right either.
He sat down. “Is there tea in here somewhere?”
“Just water,” Wei Wuxian said. He didn’t ask again. Jiang Cheng wanted him to ask again. He wanted him to cross the divide between them, wanted him to want to be here, wanted–
Did you ever mean it at all, when you said you’d stay with me forever?
“Some of your stuff is still here,” he said. Wei Wuxian glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. Jiang Cheng forged forward, feeling like he was wading through mud. “In your old room.”
“Ha,” said Wei Wuxian. “Ah, is it?”
Jiang Cheng shrugged tensely. “Yes,” he said. “It belongs to you.”
He was making a hash of this. He could feel himself floundering and had the overwhelming urge to turn around and walk out of this room, right now, immediately.
“If you want it,” he ground out. And that was it, that was all he could do. Jiang Cheng turned around and left without waiting for a response.
He half expected Jin Ling to come and try to lecture him again, and had several responses ready for that eventuality, from sect leader or not I’m still your elder and your jiujiu to you have no idea what you’re meddling with here and you need to stop before someone - probably you - gets hurt.
But Jin Ling didn’t come to find him, leaving Jiang Cheng alone, fiddling with Zidian and digging up old memories, holding them in his mind like gripping the blade of a knife.
He was watching Wei Wuxian leave in Yiling, Wen Ning at his side, a deep ache in the pit of his stomach as his brother walked further and further away. He was looking up at Wei Wuxian on a rooftop, laughter full of tears, and somehow still thinking if you’d just come down, if you’d just...
Like he was sleepwalking, Jiang Cheng walked over to a case that had, until recently, held two items under lock and key. There was only one now. A bell attached to a jade lotus. Easily missed in the ransacking of a demon’s lair. Tucked away like something precious.
He stared at it until his eyes burned.
A-Cheng, he could almost hear, gentle, not scolding, never scolding but a nudge, a reminder, do you have something to say to a-Xian?
“This would be so much easier if you were here,” he said.
And wasn’t that true of so very many things.
He had maybe a day before Lan-er-gongzi came swooping down on Lotus Pier and carried Wei Wuxian off to...wherever, he cut off the mental image there. A day, and almost half of it was already gone.
It’d be easy to let the rest go, too.
Even before he’d finished his morning meal, his thoughts were straying to his injured houseguest. When he wasn’t paying attention his eyes strayed in the direction of Wei Wuxian’s old room, which he wasn’t even in. Jin Ling kept casting him meaningful looks that he ignored. The Lan juniors, mercifully, behaved themselves.
He caught Jin Ling with his head together with the two who seemed to be his friends, along with Ouyang Zizhen, whispering about something, and decided he didn’t want to know until it became his problem.
And Wei Wuxian was just...there. In his house.
Jiang Cheng kept worrying at their conversation like a dog with a bone, and about as pathetic.
Sixteen years, apparently, wasn’t enough time to untangle the knot that formed in his chest whenever he thought about Wei Wuxian. Thirty-two wouldn’t be enough. Maybe he’d never manage it.
You shouldn’t have tried to begin with.
He doesn’t want you, said the harsh voice that sounded a little like his mother. He walked away from you, again and again, he doesn’t care, are you going to make a fool of yourself chasing someone who doesn’t love you? Didn’t you do enough of that, the first time around?
Wei Wuxian brushed tears away from his eye and said it was in another life, take it as what I owe with a soft sad smile. Wei Wuxian turned away from him again and again and again, always so ready to let go and if he really mattered wouldn’t he fight–
He gave up his golden core for you. He hadn’t asked. It was a violation, a breach of trust, a gift he didn’t want. It made a mockery of Jiang Cheng’s own decision, his own choice all that time ago.
It was a sacrifice given freely with no expectation of repayment. It was a gesture of terrifying magnitude.
It was a mirror of what he’d done for Wei Wuxian.
He tucked the clarity bell into his robes and strode with deliberate purpose to look in on the Yiling Laozu, Wei Wuxian, his shixiong. Did not let himself hesitate or think or look to see if anyone was watching. He knocked briskly on the door.
“It’s me,” he said. And then, in case his voice was no longer familiar, “Jiang Cheng.”
(You’re the only one who still uses that name. Did you know that? To everyone else I am Sandu Shengshou, Jiang-zongzhu, Jiang Wanyin, but only you still call me Jiang Cheng.)
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian’s voice said from the other side. “Well - I’d open the door but someone said I’m not supposed to walk around.”
Jiang Cheng paused, imagined turning around and walking away, then pushed himself forward through opening the door and stepping through.
“I sent word to your Lan Wangji,” he said. “I told him he didn’t need to come but I’m sure he’ll be here soon anyway.”
Wei Wuxian laughed a little awkwardly. “He’s not mine,” he protested. Jiang Cheng gave him a flat stare that Wei Wuxian ignored. “You’re probably right. Sorry.”
“What’re you apologizing for,” Jiang Cheng said. “If anyone should apologize it should be him for acting like–” He cut himself off, not sure if he was going to say acting like I can’t take care of you when I did it for longer than he has or acting like I’m dirt on his perfect white boots. “Whatever,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. I just thought I should let you know.”
“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng nodded once in acknowledgement and then looked away, over at one of the tables. It was easier than looking at him.
“You should be more careful,” he said. “What if you’d been on your own?”
“I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t,” Wei Wuxian said lightly. Too lightly. A fist squeezed around Jiang Cheng’s heart. His throat closed all over again around half-shaped words.
“You don’t need to say anything to Jin Ling,” he said abruptly, and then added, “not on my behalf. If I had a problem with his actions I could tell him myself.”
Wei Wuxian’s brow creased, then smoothed out. “Okay,” he said slowly.
What was he supposed to say?
Maybe better not to say anything at all.
Jiang Cheng reached into his robes and pulled out the clarity bell and its attached token. He saw Wei Wuxian look at it, and then saw the expression on his face as he recognised it.
He set bell and token on the corner of the table like a challenge. “I found this,” he said roughly. “It’s yours.” Then he rose and turned to go.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Cheng stopped. The silence felt long, though it probably wasn’t. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Jiang Cheng said, somehow managing to speak past the lump in his throat. “It’s yours. I’m just giving it back. Don’t lose it again.”
“Ah, I won’t, I won’t!” Wei Wuxian yelped.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng said. “Glad to hear it,” and he didn’t bolt, just...left quickly, before he started crying on Wei Wuxian, again.
There, he thought. Even Wei Wuxian can’t misunderstand that.
And whatever he did with it, at least Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have the thing just sitting around gathering dust.
And that was that.
“Wei-qianbei was here in Jinlintai last week,” Jin Ling said, maybe a month of silence later, not that he was keeping track. Jiang Cheng paused and glanced suspiciously in his direction, his stomach tightening up.
“So?”
“I noticed he had a Jiang clarity bell,” Jin Ling said, with too-perfect innocence. “I don’t think he used to.”
“I don’t know where he would have found one,” Jiang Cheng said crisply. “If you’re trying to get at something, Jin Ling, speak directly.”
“I’m not, I’m not,” Jin Ling said. “I was just noticing and I thought I’d ask if you knew what that was about.”
“I’m sure you did notice,” Jiang Cheng said. Jin Ling nodded like that’d been an answer to his question. You’re an interfering busybody, Jiang Cheng thought, but he kept it to himself.
“He said something about late summer being a good time to visit Yunmeng,” Jin Ling said. Jiang Cheng tried not to startle.
“Did he,” he said after a couple moments.
“Mmhm,” Jin Ling said. “I said that was true only you always get cranky when it’s hot–”
Cranky? Jiang Cheng thought incredulously.
“--and he said that was true but usually pushing you in a lake helped.”
Jiang Cheng’s heart wrenched out of his chest between his ribs and flopped on the floor like a dying fish. He swallowed hard. “He’d know,” he croaked after a couple moments. Jin Ling beamed.
“You’re doing great, Jiujiu,” he said encouragingly.
“Watch it,” Jiang Cheng said, gathering his heart up and stuffing it back into place. “Sect leader or not I can still break your legs.”
“I know,” Jin Ling said, simultaneously cheerful and smug. Jiang Cheng made a gesture as if to cuff him, but Jin Ling just leaned unhurriedly away, barely even all the way out of reach.
“It’ll be okay, Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said after another moment. Jiang Cheng frowned at him.
“What?”
“It’ll be okay,” Jin Ling said again, reassuringly.
You don’t know that. You can’t know that. No one ever knows that, things can be good and then all of a sudden–
You almost sound like your mother.
“Who are you telling it’ll be okay,” Jiang Cheng said. “Who’s the senior here?”
“Yes, Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said meekly. “You are, Jiujiu.”
“Brat,” Jiang Cheng said, but couldn’t quite keep the fondness out of it. After a pause, he said, “if you see him again.”
“I’m not going to carry messages,” Jin Ling said. “If I see him again I’ll send you a messenger butterfly and you can do it yourself.”
Jiang Cheng was not waiting.
He wasn’t. He had too many things to do, too many things to occupy his attention, to spend his days thinking about Wei Wuxian and whatever he was doing or might do or wouldn’t do. It was a pointless waste of time and energy.
So he didn’t know that it had been two months and fourteen days since Wei Wuxian had left with a cold-faced Lan Wangji, when a boat arrived at Lotus Pier bearing a familiar figure in black and red.
He met him at the gate.
“I know I missed the flowering,” Wei Wuxian said, “but I figured I could lend a hand for the harvest.”
There was a question, Jiang Cheng thought, somewhere at the back of his eyes.
“If you haven’t forgotten how,” he said. “With your memory.”
“Some things you don’t forget,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng put his hands on the table in front of him and they just looked at each other for a while.
He stood up. “You’re lucky,” he said. “I haven’t eaten yet. Can you still handle spice or has plain Lan food ruined your tastebuds?”
“Pff,” Wei Wuxian said. “Are you kidding? Please. I’ve missed Yunmeng’s food.”
It felt strange. Strange and awkward and not altogether genuine.
But maybe it didn’t have to stay that way.
“What are you waiting for, then,” Jiang Cheng said. “Come inside. And you can start by–” he swallowed hard. “--by paying your respects to the ancestors. It’s been a while.”
Wei Wuxian blinked once. Then, to Jiang Cheng’s relief, just jerked his head in a nod. “‘Course,” he said. “I’ll - do that.”
Some things you don’t forget.
He’d never managed to forget what it felt like, before it all went wrong. The reason he’d done what he had when he saw the Wen soldiers closing in. Not the way he might’ve wanted to, once.
He’d done harder things than this. Rebuilt from ruins before.
Maybe he could do it again.