Archive of Our Own

Wei Wuxian arrived in Cloud Recesses when Lan Wangji was in the middle of a meeting with a minor sect leader. As instructed, the Lan Sect disciple interrupted him, stepping into his office and bowing. “Chief Cultivator.”

The minor sect leader, who was cut off mid-sentence, frowned.

“Wei-gongzi is here,” the Lan Sect disciple said. “You wished to be notified?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, standing. “We will have to continue this conversation later.”

The minor sect leader gaped at him. “You’re cutting a meeting short because of Wei Wuxian?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said and swept past him. “Schedule a new appointment with my secretary.”

He paused at his secretary’s desk. “Cancel all meetings for the rest of the day,” he instructed him. “Tell them I had a more important meeting that came up.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried.

Lan Wangji turned to look at him and barely kept himself from smiling.

“You can’t cancel all of your meetings for me!” Wei Wuxian said.

“I can,” Lan Wangji said and led him out into the courtyard. He eyed Wei Wuxian, who looked travel-stained and tired, but well-fed and happy. “Would you like some food? Or a bath? Or a nap?”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “The Chief Cultivator is so kind to this humble nobody,” he teased. “No- I didn’t come far; I spent the night in Caiyi.”

“You should have come here,” Lan Wangji said, frowning.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “I thought you would be pleased; I followed the rule about entering after curfew.”

“The rule does not apply to you,” Lan Wangji said, indicating the jade token he had given Wei Wuxian at their last parting. “You may enter or leave whenever you like.”

Wei Wuxian grinned at him. “If only your younger self could hear you,” he said. “How appalled he would be! But Lan Zhan, you’re a busy man. I only bothered you because I received the most curious letter.”

“Mn?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian smiled again. “The letter said that the Chief Cultivator was looking for an advisor on matters pertaining to curses, talismans, and demonic cultivation. I was strongly encouraged to apply for the position.”

“Not apply,” Lan Wangji said.

“Not… apply?” Wei Wuxian repeated, confused.

“If you want the position, it is yours.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Is this nepotism? I never would have expected it of you! There must be a rule against it.”

“There is not,” Lan Wangji said. “Our society is nepotistic in nature.”

“Hm, fair enough,” Wei Wuxian said. “Where are we going?”

They were in the quieter part of the Cloud Recesses, where isolated houses and buildings were nestled among the bamboo forests.

“I have built a workshop,” Lan Wangji said. “For my advisor on curses, talismans, and demonic cultivation.”

They came to a stop before a newly built structure.

“You built me a workshop?” Wei Wuxian repeated, eyebrows raised.

“If you accept the job offer,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “It’s very well warded,” he said.

“If the wards are not to your specifications, you are welcome to improve them,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian nodded.

Lan Wangji handed him a jade token, an elegantly carved cloud on a red cord with fancy knotwork and a tassel. “This is the pass for all of the wards in the building,” he said. “I am the only one who also has a pass.”

“So you can snoop on what I’m working on?” Wei Wuxian teased, rubbing his thumb over the token.

“In case of emergencies,” Lan Wangji corrected. “There should always be another person who can access the workshop. If I have to travel I will leave the token with someone I trust.”

He showed Wei Wuxian the building; the workbenches, complete with woodworking tools and a forge, the warded workrooms and storage areas, the supply closets full of every material and tool Lan Wangji could think of, the small collection of books on talismans, curses, and demonic cultivation that Lan Wangji had taken out of his own library.

“If there is anything else that is needed,” Lan Wangji said, “the person who takes the job only needs to request it.”

“Are you still pretending you did not build this all for me?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I would prefer to have built this for you,” Lan Wangji said. “But if you refuse the position I will find someone else to fill it. They will do a subpar job,” he added. “You are the prominent expert on these matters.”

“Lan Zhan, such a flatterer,” Wei Wuxian said. “Fine, let’s sit and have tea and you can tell me more about what this position entails.”

Lan Wangji nodded and explained what he had envisioned to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian happily ensconced in the workshop working on his own projects, brought in to consult when an applicable case was brought to the Chief Cultivator, sitting in on cultivation meetings and conferences in his role as advisor.

“In return for your efforts,” he said, “you’ll receive room and board, a wage,” here he named a number that caused Wei Wuxian to choke on his tea, “robes and accessories befitting your station, and access to any Cloud Recesses recourses you need, including the forbidden section of the library.” He drew out a folded sheaf of papers and handed it to him. “Please take the time to look over the contract before you give an answer to the offer.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, accepting the papers and beginning to thumb through them. “Wow, Lan Zhan, you’ve really outdone yourself,” he said. “Where would I sleep? I didn’t see a bedroom in here.”

“It does not seem wise,” Lan Wangji said. “To sleep among possessed objects, even with the wards in place.”

“Ah, I’ve slept in worse,” Wei Wuxian said, brushing this off.

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, making his unhappiness at this statement clearly known, before continuing.

“The Jingshi is always open to you,” he said. My bed specifically, he did not say. “But if you prefer other accommodations you will be given one of the guest pavilions.”

“The guest pavilions?” Wei Wuxian whistled. “The houses you keep for visiting sect leaders and the like? Lan Zhan! You’re going to give me airs!”

“It would only be appropriate for your position,” Lan Wangji said, calmly. 

“Well, all my stuff is in the Jingshi,” Wei Wuxian said. “And the guest pavilions are so large, I’d just rattle around in them.”

Lan Wangji did not breathe a sigh of relief, not externally, anyway.

Unintentionally, Lan Wangji had spent the last eleven years preparing Cloud Recesses to be a home for Wei Wuxian, from slowly accumulating a stash of Emperor’s Smile underneath his floorboards to slipping a few hundred rules about being moderate in your judgment of people, accepting people’s differences, accommodating different learning styles, expressing joy when you experience it, not using excessive punishments, and so on, past the council of elders. 

He kept the Elders from squashing Jingyi’s vivaciousness and Sizhui’s sweetness, quietly encouraged the kitchens to explore a greater diversity of foods and styles, and slowly let the place get overrun by rabbits.

None of this had happened because Lan Wangji had thought that Wei Wuxian would come back from the dead, because that would have been patently ridiculous. It had just stung, the thought that his home wouldn’t be welcoming to the love of his life; that the love of his life had shuddered at the idea of going back there. He’d wanted to make it a place where people like Wei Wuxian would want to live; where open, curious minds were as cherished as obedient ones, where happiness was as appropriate as calmness. He’d considered it his legacy, in a way.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t been prepared for it when he’d come back from the dead. They’d been in and out of Cloud Recesses the whole summer they were investigating Nie Mingjue’s death and Jin Guangyao’s corruption, and every time people had smiled at him and greeted him warmly and he hadn’t despised the food and he’d come across children playing happily, he’d thought it was a fluke.

“Hanguang-jun,” he’d said, worriedly, when they’d watched the children running past, “you’re not going to punish them are you?”

“Children are not punished for things like that anymore,” Lan Wangji had said, and Wei Wuxian’s mouth had gaped, and then he’d smile, one of those full-face smiles.

“Lan Zhan,” he’d said, “you’ve become soft.”

And Lan Wangji had said ‘Mn’ and they’d continued on.

Lan Wangji hadn’t wanted to bank on Wei Wuxian accepting the position, but he had made preparations in case he did, including commissioning robes for him. Dark blue robes, subtly embroidered with clouds, to show Wei Wuxian’s new affiliation, with underrobes of red that matched the ribbon he always wore in his hair.

When Wei Wuxian had just returned from the dead, he’d gone for months with only one change of clothes. Months. Lan Wangji was pretty sure he’d laundered his robes somehow, because he hadn’t noticed him starting to smell bad (maybe he’d just developed talismans for that?), but still.

At any point, he could have asked Lan Wangji to buy him another set of robes, and when Lan Wangji pointed this out later, he’d shrugged and said I didn’t want to be a bother, which was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard coming out of Wei Wuxian’s mouth since the whole ‘you like Mianmian’ debacle.

So when he presented the chests of robes to Wei Wuxian he felt a warmth spread through him. It had been such a good idea, offering Wei Wuxian this job. Now he’d stay and feel like he was valuable and Lan Wangji could make other people respect him and could buy him things like robes and boots and Wei Wuxian wouldn’t even be in a position to argue.

He unfolded one of the outer robes and held it out to look at it, then looked up at Lan Wangji. “Robes befitting my station, hmm?” he asked.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. “And accessories,” he added, opening a smaller chest with guans, hair sticks, bracers, and embroidered hair ribbons.

Wei Wuxian picked up one of the guan. Lan Wangji didn’t actually expect him to wear any of them, but he held out hope.

“You are not required to wear a guan,” Lan Wangji said. “Only if you choose to.”

Wei Wuxian smiled and shook his head. “If I refused this position and you were forced to offer it to someone else, would you have provided all this for them?” he asked. “I didn’t see this in the contract.”

“No,” Lan Wangji admitted. “Nor would I have suggested they move into my house.”

Wei Wuxian snorted and wrapped the guan carefully back in its cloth wrappings.

“Thank you,” he said, after a moment, running a finger down the embossed leather bracers, then stood up with a decided motion. He looked at Lan Wangji evenly. “I accept,” he said. “The position you’re offering,” he added after a moment. “I’ll be your advisor.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “Thank you for accepting,” he said. “It is a great relief to me to have Wei Ying at my side again.”

Wei Wuxian seemed to settle into his new role happily. He had lots of ideas for new talismans and arrays he was eager to explore now that he had a spot to work on them. He told Lan Wangji about them in the evenings they spent together and over meals when they ate them together in the Jingshi.

When Lan Wangji could, he took his work to Wei Wuxian’s workshop and they would work together in companionable silence, Wei Wuxian muttering softly to himself while Lan Wangji answered correspondence or looked over paperwork.

He felt so content just to have Wei Wuxian there.

Two weeks or so after Wei Wuxian accepted his position as Lan Wangji’s advisor, Lan Wangji was approached by a minor sect about a problem they were having with a cursed forest. He asked one of the disciples to fetch Wei Wuxian and a few minutes later he strolled into Lan Wangji’s office, dressed in the robes Lan Wangji had given him, twirling Chenqing in his hand.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, with a grin. He bowed to the minor sect leader. “Sect leader.”

The minor sect leader looked up at Wei Wuxian in annoyance.

“Sect leader,” Lan Wangji said. “You will respond appropriately to my advisor’s greeting, or he will not be able to assist you.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian began, but Lan Wangji gave him a look .

“We came for his excellency’s help,” the minor sect leader said, “not for the Yiling Patriarch’s.”

Lan Wangji stood. “Then I’m afraid I will not be able to assist you. I hope you have luck solving your problem elsewhere. If you would please excuse me?”

The minor sect leader stood but gaped at him. “Your excellency,” he began.

Lan Wangji looked at him steadily.

Finally, the minor sect leader sighed and bowed to Wei Wuxian. “Advisor Wei,” he said. “My apologies for not greeting you earlier.”

Wei Wuxian raised his eyebrows and looked at Lan Wangji.

“No need,” he said, dropping to the seat beside Lan Wangji. “Let’s hear about this curse then.”

Wei Wuxain accosted him as soon as they were alone. “Lan Zhan!” he cried. “What was that?”

“You will not make an effective advisor if people are allowed to disrespect you,” Lan Wangji said.

“Pffft.” Wei Wuxain said. “You’re going to be waiting a long time for people to stop disrespecting me.”

Lan Wangji looked at him steadily. “Unless I don’t let them.”

“Believe me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said, “it’s a battle you’re not going to win.”

“At least I’m trying,” Lan Wangji did not mean to say.

Wei Wuxian whirled on him, his face cold. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, dangerously quiet.

“You let people treat you like you’re a villain,” Lan Wangji said.

“I am a villain!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “How many people did I kill at Nightless City?”

“When they attacked you?” Lan Wangji asked. He strode to the sword stand and pulled out Bichen, unsheathing it in one smooth motion.

“Whoa,” Wei Wuxian said, stepping back. “Ah, Lan Zhan, cool down a little.”

Lan Wangji ignored him. “What is this?” he asked, holding up the sword.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said. “A sword?”

“And what is the point of a sword?” Lan Wangji asked.

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “The tip?” he guessed.

Lan Wangji sighed. “What is the purpose of a sword?”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said. “To kill things.”

“People,” Lan Wangji corrected. “We spend our whole lives training how to kill people.” He sheathed Bichen, put it back on the sword stand. “If they did not want us to kill people, why did they teach us how to use swords?”

He sat down and began to make tea.

Wei Wuxian sat down across from him. “I’m not sure I follow you, Lan Zhan,” he said.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, then frowned. “We were children then. Bad things happened to us. You were attacked. You killed people. I also killed people that night. That is the danger of teaching people to use weapons; when they make mistakes they kill people.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened at all if it wasn’t for me,” Wei Wuxian said.

“There were a lot of people responsible for what happened,” Lan Wangji said. “It is not right for you to be only one punished. Especially when you saved all their lives at the Burial Mounds,” he added, pouring the tea.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said, accepting the cup. “But you saved them as well.”

“And now I am Chief Cultivator,” Lan Wangji said. “And you are still treated like a villain.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said. “Lan Zhan, did you hire me just so you could punish people for disrespecting me?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said. “It is a side benefit.”

“Why did you hire me?”

“Because you are knowledgeable and skilled,” Lan Wangji said, “and I trust you to assist me in my work.”

Because everything is easier with you around and because I feel like a part of me is missing without you and because you can say things I can’t and because I need you he did not say.

“And you secretly like being a bitch to people,” Wei Wuxian added, with a sly grin.

Lan Wangji looked at him, face carefully blank.

“I saw it,” Wei Wuxian teased. “The look on your face when you told that sect leader that if he didn’t greet me you were going to kick him out. You were so smug.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, non-committally.

“Ah-ha!” Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m onto you, Lan Zhan!”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian in his infinite kindness, volunteered to go to inspect the demon forest, bringing a squad of juniors with him. Lan Wangji wanted to go, but he had too many things to attend to. Uncle’s health had never quite recovered after the spirit sword incident and he was prone to over-extending himself.

They were gone for three days and Wei Wuxian returned with a massive tree trunk he’d somehow managed to stuff into a qiankun bag that he claimed was the body of a demon tree he was going to make demonic things out of.

“Demonic chairs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian had teased. “Demonic tables. I wished there had been more trees. We could have made a whole demonic house!”

The sap of the tree looked and smelled like blood and Wei Wuxian had to mop the floors of the warded room where he kept the demonic trunk a few times a week or it started smelling up the whole workshop.

When Lan Wangji went to visit Wei Wuxian in his workshop, he often found Sizhui or Jingyi or both hanging around, but other Lan juniors began visiting him more and more as well. He often found them hovering around one of the work tables, watching, mouths agape, as Wei Wuxian worked on a talisman or array or whatever, asking him question after question after question about his work.

“The Juniors are very fond of you,” Lan Wangji observed one evening, setting aside his paperwork.

“Hm?” Wei Wuxian asked, looking up from where he was pouring over a text. “They’re sweet boys.”

“I think it would be beneficial for you to teach classes,” Lan Wangji said.

“Me?” Wei Wuxian asked, surprised. “The Elders wouldn’t like that, would they?”

“You keep taking the juniors on night hunts,” Lan Wangji reasoned. “They don’t seem to object to that. But it wouldn’t be a regular class anyway- your schedule is too irregular for that.”

Wei Wuxian was increasingly called on to go and deal with demonic cultivation related matters, as the Chief Cultivator’s representative, as well as to attend some of Lan Wangji’s meetings as his advisor, both of which meant his schedule was irregular.

“But you could teach workshops or seminars outside of the regular class schedule,” Lan Wangji suggested. “I’m sure the juniors would appreciate it.”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Do you really think they’d come?”

Wei Wuxian’s first seminar, Methods of Safely Altering Talismans , was so well attended people had to sit double at the desks. Not just the Juniors came but many of the senior members of the clan, and even some cultivators from other, nearby clans.

Wei Wuxian was so excited by how well it was received he disappeared into his workshop at curfew and worked all night on creating new ideas and lesson plans for seminars he wanted to teach in the future.

A few weeks later, Lan Wangji took another meeting about a problem involving demonic cultivation, this time a minor sect leader concerned about a group of Demonic cultivators in the next town over.

Again, Lan Wangji asked the attending disciple to fetch Wei Wuxian. The minor sect leader responded with concern.

“What if he’s in cahoots with them, though?” he asked. “They claim to be the Yiling Patriach’s disciples.”

“Wei Wuxian is my advisor,” Lan Wangji replied. “The only person he is in cahoots with is me. The only disciples he teaches are Lan Sect disciples.” (And, inevitably the other sect juniors that visited the Lan Sect an unwarranted amount, but Lan Wangji didn’t think it was necessary to mention this.) “Do you think Lan Sect disciples are learning demonic cultivation?”

The minor sect leader gulped. “No, no,” he said.

When Wei Wuxian came in and bowed to the minor sect leader, the minor sect leader jumped up and bowed even more deeply. “Advisor Wei,” he said.

Wei Wuxian quirked a smile at Lan Wangji before sitting down at his side.

He listened to the minor sect leader, his expression growing more serious. “At minimum, they’re selling false talismans,” he said. “At worst they’ve stumbled onto some actual demonic magic.” He looked at Lan Wangji. “Selling false talismans seems harmless, but the people who buy them are often spending money they don’t have and falsely believe themselves protected. I wish there were some system for identifying true talisman sellers, but I can’t think of a way to organize it that wouldn’t take too many resources.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“I will go and visit these demonic cultivators,” Wei Wuxian told the minor sect leader, “and see if I can talk some sense into them.” He looked at Lan Wangji. “I’m going to need some muscle.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“What will you do about them?” the minor sect leader demanded.

Wei Wuxian blinked at him. “What needs to be done,” he said. “If they’re harming people I’ll arrest them and bring them to the nearest magistrate. If they’re harmless I’ll just try to talk them out of pretending to be demonic cultivators.”

“I trust Advisor Wei to make the right judgment,” Lan Wangji said.

“Of course, of course,” the minor sect leader said. “Thank you for your assistance, Advisor Wei, Hanguang-jun.”

Wei Wuxian took off that evening with a group of senior Lan disciples who he affectionately referred to as ‘the goon squad’, chosen for their large physiques and menacing air.

He returned five days later, a little singed around the edges.

Lan Wangji almost ran to his side as the disciple he’d been flying with helped him off of his sword. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried as Lan Wangji stopped just short of throwing his arms around him. “It’s okay, I’m fine. My hair is just slightly shorter now.”

He laughed. “I desperately need a bath,” he said, “would it be terrible improper for you to debrief me after? Or during?”

Lan Wangji shot him a look and he laughed. “From the other side of the privacy screen, of course?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, and they walked back to the Jingshi, Lan Wangji taking Wei Wuxian’s arm when it became clear he was wobbling a little.

“It turned out,” Wei Wuxian said, as they made their slow way to the Jingshi, “that they weren’t demonic cultivators. They were experimenting with explosives.”

“Mundane explosives?” Lan Wangji asked, frowning.

“Mn,” Wei Wuxian said. “Like fireworks, but if you made them with physical substances and not talismans. For the use of non-cultivators, I guess. We had a hell of a time stopping them.”

“Did you arrest them and bring them to the magistrates?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Not exactly,” Wei Wuxian said. “They kind of blew themselves up. Did you know spiritual energy and mundane explosives are a really bad combination? But, hey, Lan Zhan, I managed to salvage their texts.”

Lan Wangji frowned at him. “Do not make mundane explosives,” he said.

“What if…” Wei Wuxian began.

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian pouted. “Lan Zhan,” he said. “Seriously? You let me bring a demon tree back and won’t let me mess with mundane explosives.”

“It is unknown if the wards on your workshop will contain the explosions,” Lan Wangji said.

“All the more reason to experiment!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Since we know there are people messing about with this stuff, we should try to figure out how to counter them!”

Lan Wangji frowned at this. It was actually a very convincing argument. And yet…

“Not in your workshop,” he amended. “I don’t want you blowing up the Cloud Recesses.”

“That’s reasonable,” Wei Wuxian said.

“And not without me,” Lan Wangji added.

“What good would you be if I accidentally blew myself up?” Wei Wuxian objected.

“I can fly you to the healers,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian huffed a laugh. “Fine, fine,” he said. “When are you going to be free then?”

“Three years from now,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian laughed. “That’s when you think Zewu-jun will come out of seclusion?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“Well,” Wei Wuxian said, “I guess I’ll just have to be patient until then.”

Something glowed inside of Lan Wangji’s chest.

As weeks passed and then months, Wei Wuxian became more comfortable in his role as Lan Wangji’s advisor, sitting beside him whenever Lan Wangji required his expertise, going on night hunts on his behalf, investigating various curses, talismans, arrays, demonic objects, and the like in his workshop, teaching seminars on various topics.

As time went by he became more and more comfortable with Lan Wangji’s insistence that people address him with respect, stopped flinching and shooting Lan Wangji pained looks when he did it. There were a few times that people left when Lan Wangji insisted they greet Wei Wuxan appropriately, but most of them gave in.

Word must have spread because soon enough people were bowing to Wei Wuxian and addressing him appropriately without having to be prompted. They even began writing to him directly or going to Cloud Recesses to ask for an audience with him alone.

After one of those meetings, Wei Wuxian returned to the Jingshi laughing. “I was all prepared to deal with a curse or yaoguai or something and instead she comes out and tells me all about her taxation issues!” he said. “I was like ‘slow your horses, I don’t know anything about taxation’.” He paused, grinning. “Honestly I actually know way more than I want to about taxation and I blame you. Anyway, so she was like ‘can’t you talk to Hanguang-jun about this?’ Lan Zhan, she made me sit through a whole meeting with her because she thought I’d sweet talk you into it or something!” he shook his head. “She even brought me a very lovely collection of spices as a bribe.”

He laughed. “I had to explain to her that I had no interest in becoming the middle man. Then she was like ‘what do I do now? I can’t bribe Hanguang-jun with spices’, and I was like ‘lady, you can’t bribe Hanguang-jun with anything.’ Doesn’t that take the cake?”

Lan Wangji could think of a handful of things he could probably be bribed with, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he made a note of the Sect Leader’s name, determined that he would make sure to hear her case.

In the Summer, when Lan Wangji decided he couldn’t put it off anymore, he sighed and went to find Wei Wuxian, where he was attending sword practice with the very young juniors.

“Hey, Lan Zhan!” he called, doing sword forms alongside a group of six-year-olds who were, impressively, not staring at him and giggling. Several of his neighbors turned to him seriously and shushed him.

When they were done, Wei Wuxian put his practice sword away, bowed to his classmates, and jogged over. “Whew!” he said. “Who knew cultivating a golden core for the second time would be so much harder than the first time?” He gladly accepted the water skin Lan Wangji handed him and, as usual, did not drink so much as pour water all over his face and open mouth.

Lan Wangji had to hide a smile.

“What did you want me for?” Wei Wuxian asked, wiping the water off of his mouth.

Lan Wangji had to restrain himself from saying the first thing that came to his mind.

“There’s a cultivation conference coming up soon,” he said instead. “I would like you to attend, as my advisor.”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Wangji paused, then added, “It is at Lotus Pier.”

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said. He smiled a smile he didn’t mean. “It’s part of my job,” he said, finally.

“Yes,” Lan Wangji agreed. “The conference planners have asked you to give one of your workshops there, perhaps your workshop about Spirit Flags?”

Wei Wuxian nodded again. “I would be happy to,” he said.

“If you could write a list of materials you would need,” Lan Wangji said, “and a brief summary of the workshop you plan on giving, I will pass it along to the planning committee.”

Wei Wuxian nodded.

Lan Wangji wanted to take his hand and squeeze it and tell him it would be okay. Instead, he asked the cooks to make Wei Wuxian’s favorite meal for dinner and ordered a fancy new set of robes for him.

The Lan Contingent to the Conference traveled by sword, Wei Wuxian on Lan Wangji’s sword behind him.

(“It’s not proper!” Wei Wuxian had argued. “Shouldn’t I ride with someone less important?”

Lan Wangji had given him a look.)

They stepped off their swords at the end of the main dock and walked, in procession, to the main gates of Lotus Pier, the other sect processions stopping and standing aside for the Chief Cultivator and his entourage.

Wei Wuxian walked beside him, at his insistence.

Wei Wuxain was wearing the fancy new robes he’d ordered, layer upon layer of iridescent blue-black silk, thickly embroidered with black clouds. The silk was, faintly, lighter at the hem, the clouds shot with a faint rosy hue to suggest a distant sunrise. The underrobe was a light blue, barely visible at neck and hem.

His hair had been done with care (that is, Lan Wangji had done his hair with care), pinned up in a white-jade guan Lan Wangji had had made for him, tied with his usual red ribbon.

He looked like the advisor to a Chief Cultivator, Lan Wangji had thought with satisfaction. Even Wei Wuxain had seemed to feel that way, striding into Lotus Pier beside Lan Wangji with almost the same arrogance as he had had as a youth.

Jiang Wanyin was waiting for them at the gate to Lotus Pier.

“Your excellency,” he managed through gritted teeth, his bow shallower than it strictly should have been. “Welcome to Lotus Pier.”

He looked at Wei Wuxian and then looked away.

Wei Wuxian began moving forward, to pass him, but Lan Wangji reached out and caught his wrist.

“You have not greeted my advisor,” Lan Wangji said, calmly.

Zidian cracked on Jiang Wanyin’s arm.

Lan Wangji waited. The pier behind them grew more crowded. All around them Lan Wangji heard people whispering.

Wei Wuxian shifted restlessly, one hand curled tightly around Chenqing.

Finally, Jiang Cheng cracked, as he always did, and bowed, very slightly, to Wei Wuxian.

“Advisor Wei,” he said.

“Sandu Shengshou,” Wei Wuxian replied with a grin, returning his bow at exactly the correct angle. “Thank you for welcoming us. We are looking forward to our stay.”

Lan Wangji let go of his wrist and swept past Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian close beside him.

Jiang Disciples showed them to the grouping of pavilions set aside for the Lan Sect, one of them bowing to Wei Wuxian and saying, excitedly, “Advisor Wei, I don’t know if you remember me?”

“Of course I do!” Wei Wuxian, whose memory was notoriously bad, especially with people, said. “You were my shidi once! No longer, I’m afraid.”

“We were all very sad when you left the sect,” the disciple said. “I’m sure all of the disciples from those days will be happy to see you! I’m looking forward to your workshop. I remember you were always such a good teacher.”

“Wow,” Wei Wuxian said, smiling. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone as well.”

He was still smiling when he shut the door and rounded on Lan Wangji.

“Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed. “What was that?”

“I believe I made my position clear on this matter,” Lan Wangji said, calmly.

“With a minor sect leader in Cloud Recesses!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Not with Jiang Cheng in Lotus Pier!”

“I do not wish to be any place where Wei Ying is not welcome,” Lan Wangji said.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian scolded. “You can’t force them to accept me!”

“I can,” Lan Wangji said. “I am the Chief Cultivator.”

“You’re a megalomaniac is what you are,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “Did they know what a megalomaniac you were when they appointed you?”

“I would be happy to let the title go,” Lan Wangji said, calmly, “if they wish to withdraw support from me.”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to impose your ‘respect Wei Wuxian’ agenda on everyone,” Wei Wuxian pointed out.

“I would still be quite capable with a sword even if I was not chief cultivator,” Lan Wangji said calmly.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried, but he was laughing. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

Lan Wangji could think of a number of things, but instead of saying them he smiled. Wei Wuxian smiled back.

That evening, at the opening banquet, Wei Wuxian sat beside Lan Wangji, happily putting all the healthy food in Lan Wangji’s bowl and drinking all the toasts. He even stood up to make one. “To Sandu Shengshou for being such a gracious host!”

It was beautiful how red Jiang Cheng’s face got.

Wei Wuxian sat beside Lan Wangji for the topics he was interested in and wandered off when he got bored. One afternoon, Lan Wangji came across him surrounded by a crowd of excited juniors trying to convince him to give an archery demonstration, having heard about his feat at the Phoenix Mountain hunt. Several of the juniors were volunteering to take the place of the Wen cultivators. Wei Wuxian, thankfully, turned their offers down.

He did agree to the demonstration, however, after picking through the Jiang sect’s practice bow collection, teasing the arms-master about slacking on the upkeep of the bowstrings and forcing the juniors into demonstrating their own skills first, offering each of them a bit of praise and a bit of advice.

Then he looked up at Lan Wangji and said “hey, Lan Zhan, can you do me a favor?”

Lan Wangji reached up to his forehead ribbon, but Wei Wuxian laughed and shook his head and pulled a blindfold out of his qiankun sleeve instead.

“It’s too narrow,” Wei Wuxian said. “Maybe later.”

He tied the blindfold on and then held out his hand for the bow and arrows, notching all five on the string with a practiced motion.

“Notching five arrows is a specialty of the Jiang Sect,” he said. Behind him, Lan Wangji could see a larger crowd gathering, not just juniors and Jiang Sect disciples, but also seniors and sect leaders. “So I can’t tell you how it’s done. At least not publicly.”

Lan Wangji spotted Jiang Wanyin standing in the crowd scowling.

“But I can tell you how to do this part,” he said. “You have to connect each of the arrows with the bullseye for each of the targets with a thread of spiritual energy. Then you can do the flashiest moves you like and you’ll still hit dead center.”

He left out the fact that the connection had to be made in the split second after the spin.

He drew the string back, spun, and released, the arrows flying true even though he’d held the bow crooked.

Even though Lan Wangji had seen him do it before it still made his breath catch in his throat.

The arrows hit the targets all at the same time.

The crowd burst into applause.

Wei Wuxian tugged the blindfold off and as if their eyes were connected with an invisible thread, he looked up directly into Lan Wangji’s eyes.

“Oh, Jiang Cheng hated that,” Wei Wuxian said, later that evening, “did you see the look he gave me?”

He shucked off his boots and began to untie his robes before even looking at Lan Wangji.

When he did, though, his face softened. “Lan Zhan,” he said. “You always look so peaceful in your sleeping robes with your hair down. Were you waiting for me?”

They’d been given separate rooms, but somehow had still ended up sleeping in the same one.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“You didn’t have to,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s past curfew.”

“We’re not in Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian smiled again, finished taking off his outer robes, until he was down to just the light blue under-robe, fitted tightly around his waist.

He crossed the room to Lan Wangji. “Would you take my hair down?” he asked.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian moved a pillow in front of Lan Wangji and dropped down onto it. Lan Wangji got up onto his knees so he could see over Wei Wuxian’s head while he undid the complicated style Lan Wangji had put it up into that morning, handing Wei Wuxian ribbons and pins and the white jade guan as he took them out. Finally, he wove Wei Wuxian’s hair into the fat braid he liked to sleep with.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said, turning so he could look up at him.

Lan Wangji’s heart pounded in his chest as he reached up and undid his sect ribbon, then held it out.

Wei Wuxian looked at it, curled in the middle of Lan Wangji’s palm, confused.

“You said ‘maybe later’,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian’s brows drew together.

“I was teasing you,” he said, but his hand reached up anyway.

“You can’t borrow it,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian pulled his hand back as if it had been burned.

“I… what?” he asked.

“You can’t borrow it,” Lan Wangji said again. He swallowed. “It belongs to you.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered, hoarsely. With trembling hands, he took the ribbon from Lan Wangji’s palm.

Lan Wangji’s heart was, maybe, actually bursting. Or imploding.

Wei Wuxian looked up at him and laughed. “Now that I have it I don’t know what to do with it,” he said.

Lan Wangji smiled at him and took the ribbon from his hand and put it down on the low table, then he touched Wei Wuxian’s chin lightly with his fingers and gently turned it so he was looking at him.

The kiss was like the ending note in a song, the last word in a book, a feeling of wholeness and completeness, the final step in a ten thousand mile journey.

And then Wei Wuxian threw his arms around him and surged up into him and it turned into something else entirely, passion and hunger and want and need.

Wei Wuxian laughed against Lan Wangji’s lips.

The next day Lan Wangji had an endless meeting about territorial disputes between sects and Wei Wuxian taught his spirit lure flag workshop. It was held in the banquet hall and still there wasn’t enough room for everyone who wanted to attend; when Lan Wangji looked in during a break in his own meeting he saw cultivators lining the walls, struggling to take notes while standing. Wei Wuxian was explaining one of the modifications he’d made to the standard flag and he looked up in the middle of a sentence and paused a second to smile at Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji couldn’t help smiling back, a tiny bit.

Wei Wuxian came to find him when his meeting was over, followed by a gaggle of juniors.

“Lan Zhan,” he called and ran up to him and for a moment Lan Wangji thought he was going to kiss him right there, in front of the sect leaders who were also leaving the meeting and the juniors, but instead he stopped in front of him and bowed. “Your excellency.”

Lan Wangji caught his arms and pulled him back up. “Stop that,” he murmured.

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Come boating with me,” he said. “We can go to the lotus pond and steal some lotus pods.”

“No stealing,” Lan Wangji said automatically.

“Fine, fine, fine,” Wei Wuxian said. “Come boating with me.” He reached a hand out to Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji took it. “I don’t have any other way of getting rid of these kids,” he murmured in Lan Wangji’s ear. “They’ve been following me around all day.” But he smiled at them and when they reached the boat dock, the juniors jumped in the boats after them and Wei Wuxian challenged them to a race, standing in the stern punting the boat while Lan Wangji sat before him and let himself relax to the sound of Wei Wuxian and the juniors calling to each other and laughing.

That evening, Lan Wangji kissed his way down Wei Wuxian’s chest and took his cock in his mouth inexpertly, licking his way down the shaft and trying to ignore the ache in his jaw while Wei Wuxian moaned and thrashed and called out his name.

He swallowed the bitterness when Wei Wuxian came and kissed him with his mouth still tasting of him and Wei Wuxian said ‘gross’ and scrunched up his face and laughed and kissed Lan Wangji more deeply and stroked Lan Wangji for an embarrassingly short time before he came on Wei Wuxian’s smooth stomach.

The next day Lan Wangji was taking a short walk between meetings when Jiang Wanyin approached him.

Lan Wangji gave him a slight bow and tried to continue his walk, but Jiang Wanyin stepped in front of him.

“It has not escaped my notice,” Jiang Wanyin said in his bitter voice, “that Wei Wuxian has not slept in the rooms assigned to him.”

Lan Wangji did not respond.

“What are your intentions towards him?” Jiang Wanyin demanded, stepping into Lan Wangji’s space.

“You wish to know,” Lan Wangji replied quietly, “what my intentions are towards Wei Wuxian?”

“Yes,” Jiang Wanyin said, jerking his chin up.

“I will tell you what my intentions towards him are not,” Lan Wangji said. “I do not intend to blame him for a strategically planned attack carried out in the course of a campaign to destabilize the major sects. I do not intend on listening silently doing nothing while the whole world slanders him. I do not intend to stab him and kick him out of my sect for being the only one bold enough to stand for justice. I do not intend to bring an army to persecute him for defending himself during an ambush. I do not intend to help him commit suicide. I do not intend to whip him and then torture him with the thing he fears the most in this world. I do not intend to insult him while he is trying to pay his respects to the memory of his family. I do not intend to attack him when he is seriously injured from saving my life and the lives of half the cultivation world.

“Now I will ask you what your intentions are,” Lan Wangji continued, stepping forward, close enough to Jiang Wanyin that Jiang Wanyin had to step back. “Do you intend on only treating Wei Wuxian as a brother when it gives you a convenient reason to antagonize me?”

Jiang Wanyin colored and looked away, swallowing ferociously.

Lan Wangji swept away.

“Well,” Wei Wuxian said, later, when they were alone, hunched over the table working on the design of a new talisman, “heard you finally had it out with Jiang Cheng.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“Bet that felt good,” he said.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian turned and leaned his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

“Jingyi was very impressed,” he said. “He said it was the longest speech he’s ever heard you make.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“Are you all out of words now?” Wei Wuxian teased. “Have you used up your daily allotment?”

“Weekly,” Lan Wangji said.

“Oh no!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Cancel the rest of the conference! The Chief Cultivator is out of words.”

“You,” Lan Wangji said.

“Oh, no,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m not going to be your voice. You’re not making me attend those boring meetings. Get Jingyi to do it. He’s always enjoyed roasting people on your behalf. Should have just tapped him in with Jiang Cheng earlier.”

The Cultivation Conference thankfully ended the next day and Lan Wangji got to see Jiang Cheng red with annoyance and embarrassment as Wei Wuxian held up the receiving line gushing at him about how much he had enjoyed his stay.

Finally, they stepped onto their swords and flew back to Cloud Recesses and if Wei Wuxian twisted a little in Lan Wangji’s arms so he could kiss him, once or twice, the other Lan disciples were gracious enough to pretend not to see.

Things got back to normal pretty quickly, although the juniors had somehow coerced Wei Wuxian into leading biweekly archery lessons and he outdid himself with inventing more and more ridiculous stunts to demonstrate during them. (Lan Wangji made sure to attend, in hopes of tamping Wei Wuxian’s ambitions a little).

(Normal except that Wei Wuxian no longer slept on the spare bed in the Jingshi and they found themselves going to bed earlier than usual most nights. Sex was a wondrous thing, a gasping, laughing, joyous thing.)

Normal except that requests for Spirit Lure Flags and talismans seemed to increase. It was fairly normal practice to supply non-potent copies of talismans and Spirit Lure Flags that weren’t sect secrets, but there seemed to be an extraordinary number of requests. Wei Wuxian started missing sword practice and meditation to fill them.

“At the conference, I talked a lot about some modified designs I made,” Wei Wuxian admitted, “and some new talismans and told people they could write me to request copies, but I wasn’t prepared for how many there would be. It seems like everyone wanted them.”

Lan Wangji frowned. “There should only be one copy needed per sect,” he said.

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian said, scratching his temple. “There seem to be far more with that. That on top of everything else…”

“Everything else?” Lan Wangji asked.

“I’m getting a lot more requests for advice and help. People have been sending me talismans and asking me why they don’t work. Usually, it’s the ink- someone’s been manufacturing fake cinnabar ink.”

He rubbed his nose. “I guess talismans are getting more popular these days- I’ve heard you can’t buy talisman paper in some places because they didn’t produce enough. Of course, you can use regular paper or silk, but you have to account for how the different materials change the way the ink interacts with the media… Lan Zhan, are you smiling?”

Lan Wangji shook his head, even though he had clearly been smiling. “It worked,” he said, when he could speak.

“What?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“People like you now,” he said. “Talismans are more popular because of you. People want your help.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, “It worked?” he repeated, smiling. “I knew it! Lan Zhan! All this ‘I need an advisor’ nonsense? ‘My advisor needs to be respected’? Hah!”

“That wasn’t a lie,” Lan Wangji said. “You have been very helpful.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him, smiled, and shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked.

Lan Wangji had a few ideas.

“Stop supplying the talismans and spirit lure flags,” Lan Wangji said. “Publish a book instead.”

“Publish a book?” Wei Wuxian repeated, mouth gaping.

Lan Wangji nodded. “You can make the designs into woodcuts and have them printed. It will be less time-consuming. Reply to the requests with the information that a book is available.”

“I thought I was supposed to freely distribute them,” Wei Wuxian said.

“You’ve already freely distributed more than is reasonable,” Lan Wangji said. “The book could also contain your notes from your workshops. It would be convenient for those who are not able to attend. You could also add information about how to recognize false talismans, cinnabar ink, and talisman paper.”

“Huh,” Wei Wuxian said. “It would be easier only having to write those things once.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“I’ll think about it,” he agreed, then frowned at the pile of letters in front of him. “Guess I should put off replying to these until I have made a decision. Perhaps Hanguang-jun has an idea about how I might spend my time instead?”

A few days later, Sect Leader Yao wrote to request Wei Wuxian’s assistance with a problem in one of the nearby villages and Wei Wuxian assembled a group of juniors and kissed Lan Wangji goodbye. Five days later he was back with a suspicious limp, a possessed squirrel in a cage, and Wen Ning.

“What do you think?” Wei Wuxian asked, holding up the cage. The squirrel seemed fairly docile, but its eyes gleamed red. “I thought we could keep it as a mascot in the workshop. Doesn’t every demonic workshop need a possessed animal?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. “I do not recall you having one in your last demonic workshop.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said, sighing. “It was tragic . Anywho, look who we found?” He gestured to Wen Ning. “I was thinking…” he scratched the back of his neck with Chenqing and bit his lip.

“Yes?” Lan Wangji prompted, finally.

“I could use an assistant,” Wei Wuxian suggested, “in the workshop. Wen Ning is great at making talismans, so he can help with that, and he’d be a lot of help if something demonic got loose? I know you’re probably not super comfortable with having him here, but he could stay in Caiyi…”

But Lan Wangji was already nodding. “That seems reasonable,” he said.

“Really?” Wei Wuxian asked, almost seeming startled.

“He may live in Cloud Recesses as well,” Lan Wangji said. “There is room in the dormitories, or if he prefers, he can sleep in the workshop.”

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian said. “Didn’t you say it was unsafe?”

“It is my impression that Wen Ning is not quite… alive?” Lan Wangji said. “Surely he would be less affected by demonic influences than a regular person?”

Wei Wuxian nodded, then turned to Wen Ning and smiled. “What do you think?”

“Are you sure?” Wen Ning asked. “Maybe the people in the Cloud Recesses would feel unsafe?”

“The Cloud Recesses has agreed to house any staff member the Chief Cultivator sees fit to hire,” Lan Wangji said.

“They probably weren’t you expecting to hire a not-quite-alive person, though,” Wei Wuxian said.

“If they were going to have a problem with it,” Lan Wangji said, “they should have specified that in the contract.”

Wei Wuxian laughed and clapped Wen Ning on the shoulder. “Hear that?” he asked. “You’re hired. I’m only going to pay you three regular meals a day and a robe allowance though.”

“Master… Master Wei… I don’t eat,” Wen Ning objected.

“I’m teasing you, Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian said. “Of course you’ll get a regular paycheck, probably far more than you’re comfortable with if I know Lan Zhan at all.”

Lan Wangji agreed and went to his office to find a contract.

The workshop smelled like burned bread the next time Lan Wangji entered it. Wei Wuxian was happily working at his desk, the demonic squirrel lying across his shoulders. It hissed at Lan Wangji.

“Ah, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried. “I’ve decided to write the book you suggested! I’m meeting some people from several publishing companies later this week in Caiyi. Turns out everyone wants to publish my book. Who could have imagined? They think it’s going to be really popular.

“Wen Ning thinks that that’s because people think it’s going to be an autobiography about the Yiling Patriarch’s scandalous life,” Wei Wuxian continued.

“What?” Wen Ning asked from the other desk, where he was carefully writing something. “I didn’t say that.”

“They’re going to be so disappointed when they discover it’s just a boring book on cultivation,” Wei Wuxian continued. “You came to do work with me?” he asked, noticing the papers Lan Wangji was holding. He moved himself and his papers over and patted the other half of his floor cushion.

“Is your squirrel going to bite me?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian turned his head and made a number of ‘tsk tsk’ noises at the squirrel who chirped back, animatedly.

“If she does,” Wei Wuxian said, casually, “just hit her.”

The squirrel chattered at Wei Wuxian again and then climbed up onto his head and from there jumped onto the roofbeam.

“I thought she was going to be in a cage,” Lan Wangji said, sitting down beside Wei Wuxian, who laughed and shifted over so their legs were pressed against each other.

“What would be the fun of that?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Uncle’s heath remained poorly throughout the summer and into the fall and Lan Wangji increasingly found himself burdened with more and more of the administrative duties of the Cloud Recesses, though he delegated where he could to the various sect elders.

Late in the fall, Uncle called him into his office and before Lan Wangji could move to do it, he poured both of them tea.

“Wangji,” he said when they’d both enjoyed the fragrance of the tea. “I apologize for how much work you are having to do these days.”

“No need, Uncle,” Lan Wangji said. “It is my duty.”

“I had hoped my health would allow me to continue my work until Xichen was ready to return to us,” Uncle said.

“I would prefer that I have too much work to do than that Uncle do damage to his health,” Lan Wangji said.

“You are a good disciple,” Uncle said. “A good nephew. A good Chief Cultivator. I am proud to be your uncle and your master.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Lan Wangji said, hiding his shock at the praise.

“However, there is one matter in which you are a disappointment to me,” Uncle continued. “I was told by one of the elders that last week she saw you and Wei Wuxian kissing near the Cold Springs.”

There it was.

“Uncle…” Lan Wangji began.

“Wangji,” Uncle scolded. “I thought I had taught you better. Carrying on with Wei Wuxian like that without marrying him?! I do not understand how I could have raised a nephew to act in such a scandalous manner.”

Lan Wangji felt his mouth gape open.

“You... “ he began, after a solid moment, “you want me to marry Wei Wuxian?”

Uncle sniffed. “I admit he wouldn’t have been my first choice. But I also admit I was wrong about him.”

“You…” Lan Wangji felt his head spin. Was he going to faint?

“He was a wild and undisciplined boy, it is true,” Uncle said. “And I do not agree with many of the choices he made, but I see now that he made those choices out of a desire for justice and I cannot fault that. Since he has become your advisor he has contributed significantly to both the world and to the sect. He does not deserve you dishonoring him.”

“You…” Lan Wangji felt like his brains had been pulled out through his ears. “You want me to marry Wei Wuxian?”

“Yes,” Uncle said. “I will speak with the sect elders about it immediately. They will be pleased to plan a wedding after so long.”

“The elders?” Lan Wangji repeated.

“Wangji, you don’t seem like yourself,” Uncle said, confused. “Do you feel okay?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Uncle. I will go and speak to Wei Wuxian about this.” He paused. “He may not want to marry me.”

Uncle narrowed his eyes at him and leaned forward. “Wangji, are you joking?”

Lan Wangji blinked and stood and bowed. “No. Ah… no. Thank you, Uncle.”

He did not run. There was no running in Cloud Recesses. He walked quickly. So quickly that it earned him any number of shocked looks as he crossed from his uncle’s office to Wei Wuxian’s workshop.

Wei Wuxian was standing at a worktable, directing Wen Ning and a couple of juniors on a piece of woodworking, when he burst in.

“Lan Zhan!?” he exclaimed. “Is everything okay? What happened?”

Lan Wangji had been walking so quickly he was out of breath.

“Get him a cup of water, would you, Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian said.

A moment later, the cup was pressed into his hands and he gratefully downed it.

“Seriously, Lan Zhan, you’re making me really nervous,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Uncle,” Lan Wangji panted. “Uncle wants us to get married.”

“What?!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, so loudly the demonic squirrel shrieked and ran away.

“Conga… congratulations,” Wen Ning said.

“Should I go check on him?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Make sure he’s not possessed? Maybe he has a fever? Maybe he’s qi deviating?”

“He said he was wrong about you,” Lan Wangji managed.

“By the heavens,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Wen Ning, quick, pinch me. I must be dreaming.”

“He said you have contributed greatly both to the world and to the sect,” Lan Wangji said.

“Nope,” Wei Wuxian said. “No, I’m pretty sure that it’s me who’s qi deviating? Can you qi deviate without a golden core?”

“He said the elders would be pleased to plan our marriage,” Lan Wangji said.

“What,” Wei Wuxian said, sitting down on the workshop floor.

He stared up at Lan Wangji.

“Would you?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Would I what?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“Would you marry me?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Hah!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Hah! ‘Would you marry me?’ he asks, as if I haven’t been in love with him for seventeen fucking years.”

“You were dead for thirteen of them,” Jingyi said.

“That is not relevant,” Wei Wuxian said. He looked around at the juniors. “What are you still doing here? Can’t you see this is a private moment? Scoot. And no gossiping!”

The juniors giggled and hurried out of the room, Wen Ning following them.

“You’ll marry me?” Lan Wangji asked.

“How could I say no?” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ve only just gotten into your uncle’s good graces! I can’t disappoint him now!”

Lan Wangji sank to his knees in front of where Wei Wuxian was sitting and touched his cheek lightly. “I have also loved you for seventeen fucking years,” he said.

Wei Wuxian caught his hand and gently kissed his fingertips. “I know,” he said. “Let’s do it.” Then he sighed. “You know,” he said. “I think you might have to invite Jiang Cheng.”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“And Jin Ling,” Wei Wuxian said.

“No,” Lan Wangji repeated.

“They are my family,” Wei Wuxian reminded him.

“You may invite all members of your family who have not stabbed you,” Lan Wangji said.

“Hah!” Wei Wuxian said, and leaned forwards and kissed him.

Two days later, just as Lan Wangji was wrapping up what had been a long and aggravating day, a disciple poked her head in his office. “Hanguang-jun, you have a visitor.”

“Can they wait until tomorrow?” Lan Wangji asked.

“It’s Zewu-jun,” the disciple said.

Lan Wangji paused in the middle of organizing his papers, almost asked her to repeat herself, then stood when his brother came striding into the room.

“Brother,” he said, bowing, but Brother came around the desk and caught Lan Wangji in a tight hug.

“Didi,” he said.

Lan Wangji gently disentangled himself after what he felt must have been several years. He gestured to the cushion on the other side of the desk and then distracted himself with preparing the tea.

“I thought you were going to be in seclusion a while longer,” he said, rising the tea leaves, and then pouring in more water to let them steep.

“I had planned on it,” Brother agreed with an unnervingly big smile on his face. “And then Uncle told me the news. You’re getting married! To Wei Wuxian! Wangji, I am so happy for you!”

Lan Wangji poured the tea and passed Brother his cup.

“I know, I know the elders were going to plan the wedding, but Wangji I just can’t help myself. My didi’s wedding! The Chief Cultivator’s wedding! The Lan Sect hasn’t had the public wedding of a sect heir since our grandparents got married! It’s going to be the event of the year. No, the decade. It’s going to be so grand the gods themselves are going to gossip about it!”

(Later, when Lan Wangji told this all to Wei Wuxian he would sigh and say ‘we can just elope’ and Wei Wuxian would cackle.)

“I don’t even know where to get started,” Brother continued. “We need robes… and red silk. All of the red silk. I’ll send a disciple to Caiyi tomorrow. No, today. Better give them a head start. They’re going to have to double... no, triple… their red silk production. How long do we have?”

He laughed with a manic energy that honestly concerned Lan Wangji.

(“Is it possible he’s possessed?” he would ask Wei Wuxian later.)

“Oh, what a fool I am! I’ll have to get the fortune tellers to identify the most auspicious day for you two! Quickly, what shi was Wei Wuxian born?”

(“I honestly don’t know,” Wei Wuxian would say when he asked him. “Don’t look at me like that- how am I supposed to know what time of day I was born? It’s not like I remember. I honestly feel pretty lucky that I know the date at least. No one in Jiang Sect took that sort of thing seriously anyway. Just.. make one up.”)

“No matter, no matter, I’ll ask him tomorrow. Now, Wangji, we have a lot of serious things to discuss. Obviously, your marriage won’t be traditional. It’s going to cause some problems.”

“Because we’re both men?” Lan Wangji had asked, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.

“What? No! It’s the Han dynasty, no one cares about that kind of thing anymore. It’s because you’re already living together. How is Wei Wuxian supposed to descend from his palanquin all red-draped and shy if you’re coming from the same house? I don’t suppose he’d consider moving back to Lotus Pier until then?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“I didn’t think so,” Brother said. He tapped his fingers on Lan Wangji’s desk. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What about family? How’s his relationship with Jiang Cheng? What about Jin Ling?”

“They both stabbed him,” Lan Wangji reminded him.

“Oh,” Brother said, brushing that aside. “Who hasn’t stabbed their brother?”

“Either of us,” Lan Wangji reminded him, through gritted teeth, then suddenly went cold when he remembered that Brother had stabbed his sworn brother. (Lan Wangji had cut the arm off of Brother’s sworn brother, but he didn’t think that counted.)

Brother went even more pale for a moment, then brushed it aside. “He has to have some family,” he said.

“Wen Ning,” Lan Wangji offered. “Sizhui. A demonic squirrel.”

“Hmmm…” Brother said. “Can the squirrel drink tea?”

“It seems to be very clever,” Lan Wangji said. “I’ll have to ask.”

“Do,” Brother said and stood up. “I’m so excited, Wangji! This is going to be so much fun!”

Wei Wuxian listened to the story with an appropriate level of concern and an inappropriate amount of cackling and the next morning went to speak to Lan Xichen himself.

“He’s not possessed,” he concluded, dropping to the cushion on the other side of the desk, much too far away from Lan Wangji. “I think he was just going bored out of his mind in seclusion. He’s very enthusiastic about this wedding. He… he hugged me. It was a lot.”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji said.

“Also… I think we’re going to get some visitors pretty soon. A visitor in specific.” Wei Wuxian was nervously running Chenling’s tassel over his hand.

Lan Wangji looked at him.

“Zewu-jun wrote to Jiang Cheng about the wedding.”

Lan Wangji frowned. “No,” he said.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian began.

“You died,” Lan Wangji said. “He could have stopped it.”

“That was a long time ago,” Wei Wuxian said.

“He tried to whip you when you were half-conscious,” Lan Wangji said. “Not a long time ago.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said. “He was under a lot of stress.”

“You had just saved his life.”

“Well,” Wei Wuxian said.

“He does not deserve you defending him,” Lan Wangji said.

“We’ve all gotten plenty of things we don’t deserve,” Wei Wuxian reminded him, softly.

“He has to apologize,” Lan Wangji said. “Formally.”

Wei Wuxian raised his eyebrows.

Lan Wangji nodded, decisively. “That’s the condition.”

“Condition for…” Wei Wuxian began.

“Attending the wedding. Talking to Brother about the wedding.”

Wei Wuxian sighed, like he knew that that was the best he was going to get. “Fine,” he said. He stood. “I’ll write Jin Ling about it.”

“He has to apologize too!” Lan Wangji called to Wei Wuxian as he left the room.

Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan arrived a week later, escorted by a bevy of Jin and Jiang Sect members.

Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian were at the gate to meet them. This time Jiang Wanyin bowed to Wei Wuxian without prompting, though he scowled while he does it.

Then he sighed dramatically. “I am told I need to apologize to Wei Wuxian to be invited to his wedding,” he said.

“Sincerely,” Lan Wangji clarified.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jiang Wanyin said, but Jin Rulan pushed in front of him.

“I’ll go first.” he said. “Advisor Wei, dajiu, please forgive me for stabbing you.” He bowed deeply.

“Ah, it was only a gut wound,” Wei Wuxian said, catching his arms and pulling him up. “Think nothing of it.”

“Now it’s your turn,” Jin Rulan said, smirking at Jiang Wanyin.

Jiang Wanyin’s scowl deepened, but he swallowed and stepped forward. “Wei Wuxian,” he said. “Please forgive me for not trusting you when I should have, for turning my back on you, and for believing the slander others spoke about you.” He bowed deeply, more deeply than he had probably bowed for anyone, besides his parents and in the ancestral hall.

Wei Wuxian quickly stepped forward and lifted him up, then wrapped his arms around him. Jiang Wanyin hugged him back, just as hard and Lan Wangji had the horrible suspicion that both of them were crying.

The moment they separated, Lan Xichen hugged Wei Wuxian, then Jiang Wanyin. “We’re all going to be family!” he said, excited. “Don’t be so formal!”

Jin Rulan only escaped by spotting Sizhui and Jingyi and running off to talk to them.

Lan Wangji ducked into Wei Wuxian’s workshop. “Quick,” he said, “hide.” He grabbed Wei Wuxian’s arm and pulled him into the warded room which he knew was empty. Or, well, he’d thought it was empty. He stared at all the dancing, blinking lights. “What is this?” he asked.

“I was trying to recreate the Pearl of Yanzhou,” Wei Wuxian explained, rubbing the side of his nose, “but I got all these tiny lights instead. There’s harmless, I promise. Well, I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

“A-Xian!” Brother’s voice called, jovially. “A-Zhan! I’ve been looking for you forever!”

“I’m usually here, Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian joked, shooting a glance at Lan Wangji and mouthing ‘A-Xian!?’

“A-Xian, I’ve told you time and time again not to call me ‘Zewu-jun’! How can you be so formal when we’re going to be family?!”

“Sorry, Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian murmured.

“Oh, what’s this?” Brother asked, poking his head in the warded room.

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian said, pulling Lan Wangji out of the room and locking it with a talisman behind him. “What did you want us for?”

“I wanted to go over the menu with you two,” Brother said.

“Again?” Wei Wuxian asked, glancing at Lan Wangji. “Zewu…. Sorry, Xichen-ge, we’ve been over it so many times! I’m sure you’ve made it perfect!”

“Are you sure?” Brother’s face took on a pained expression. “I’m afraid there aren’t enough choices…”

“Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian said, and sighed. “Come for a walk with me.”

He grabbed Brother’s arm and patted Lan Wangji’s shoulder, smiling reassuringly.

And that’s how Lan Wangji found himself alone with Jiang Wanyin at lunch. Lan Wangji kept his eyes on his bowl, while Jiang Wanyin’s fist clenched and unclenched. The man was going to give himself a heart attack, Lan Wangji thought.

Finally, Jiang Wanyin spoke. “You were right,” he said. “Thank you.”

Lan Wangji dropped his chopsticks in shock.

Jiang Wanyin laughed as he searched through the folds of his robes for them.

Wei Wuxian and Brother chose that moment to return, stopping at the threshold to take in Jiang Wanyin laughing hysterically and Lan Wangji lifting his over-robe to see if the chopsticks had somehow slithered under it.

“See?” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Wangji looked up in time to see him squeezing Brother’s wrist affectionately. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Their wedding was maybe the grandest in Cloud Recess’ history. So many people attended the disciples had to camp out in the training fields and rabbit meadow to make room for them all.

The whole sect was decked out in red silk- red silk banners embroidered with clouds, phoenixes and dragons, red silk garlands, ribbons, and robes. Every surface and wall and ceiling in the Jingshi was draped in it, tinting the light in the room so that even Lan Wangji’s pristine white robes, hanging in the closet, looked pink.

There were so many toasts at the banquet that anyone who didn’t abstain from some of them (or all of them, as Lan Wangji and many of his sect members did) got roaring drunk. And not once did Lan Wangji hear anyone ask ‘How did the Yiling Patriarch seduce Hanguang-jun?’ or suggest that Wei Wuxian wasn’t good enough for him. Not once did anyone fail to treat Wei Wuxian with respect. Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan and Wen Ning (and not, to Wei Wuxian’s disappointment, the demonic squirrel) sat as Wei Wuxian’s family and both Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan cried and pretended they didn’t.

And Wei Wuxian was beautiful. Magical. Spectacular. Dressed in layer after layer after layer of red silk, an intricate gold guan crowning his head, his smile as wide as Lan Wangji had ever seen it, eyes sparkling with laughter and happy tears.

He laughed with they bowed, laughed when they poured the tea, laughed with he hugged Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, Wen Ning and Brother, Sizhui and Jingyi and all the other juniors. All during the ceremony and banquet he looked at Lan Wangji and laughed and cried and brushed his hand down Lan Wangji's cheek and said "You're smiling- never stop smiling".

And Lan Wangji said "I don't think I could stop now."

When they were finally allowed to sneak away they went back in the Jingshi and Lan Wangji uncovered his husband layer after layer and worshipped him in a manner befitting his new station.