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Before Lan Sizhui was Lan Sizhui, he was Wen Yuan.
His memories of the time are hazy and spotty, almost dream-like in quality, but he does remember the big things. He remembers the Burial Mounds were always quiet and the forest of dead trees around their settlement scared him at night. He remembers a single lotus blooming in a small pool and papers scattered around a cave. Most of all, he remembers the people—Granny and Qing-jie and Ning-gege and all his other aunts and uncles and, of course, Xian-gege. He remembers Xian-gege holding him and taking him around Yiling and planting him in the dirt with a laugh—always with a laugh.
He also remembers a night after his Xian-gege had gone very, very quiet where he’d been taken to that scary forest and placed in the stump of a tree. He didn’t want Xian-gege to leave him behind, but Xian-gege had smiled and said it would be alright and he just had to be very quiet and brave. Xian-gege left, his eyes turning red and scary, and the rest of the night passed in a blur. He remembers the sound of screaming and of smoke billowing over the tree line and of a horrible smell. He remembers how much it hurt to keep his hiccupping sobs silent.
It felt like a lifetime, but at some point Xian-gege came back for him. He remembers seeing the dirty, bloodied form of Xian-gege limping over to him. He remembers clinging to the arms held tightly around him and a low voice saying, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.”
He doesn’t remember how they got to the cave. The world around him was blurring and twisting and his body felt like it was on fire, yet somehow ice cold. He fell asleep and when he woke up, he was in a dark cave, a tiny light seeping in through the front. Xian-gege was curled protectively around him on the ground.
“Don’t leave me, Xian-gege,” he cried. The arms holding him tightened.
“I won’t. You’ll never be alone again, A-Yuan. I promise.”
In his feverish haze, he clung to his Xian-gege and focused on nothing but the warmth of the body around him and the low hum of a lullaby at his ear.
He has no idea how much time passed, but when he woke up again, he was still curled up against Xian-gege. He was so cold that he was shivering, so he tried to burrow in further. It wasn’t helping. This must have woken up Xian-gege, who brushed his hair back and weakly told him, “You have to eat, A-Yuan.”
He didn’t want to get up, though. He didn’t want to open his eyes.
Xian-gege shoved something into his hands. It felt like a chunk of bread. The thought of eating it made him feel sick.
“Please, A-Yuan,” Xian-gege begs, sounding so tired. “Please eat.”
He ate it, if only to make Xian-gege happy.
In hindsight, it must have been a couple days that passed like this. Shivering in a cave, too weak to move, Xian-gege quietly begging him to eat the little food they had whenever he woke up from his haze.
“You have to survive, A-Yuan,” Xian-gege whispered to him. It made him want to cry, but he was too weak to even do that anymore. The ghost of Xian-gege’s hand brushed the damp hair from his face and he focused hard on the feeling.
It was then that movement from the bright entrance of the cave caught his eye. He was terrified, but he could do little more than turn his head to the figure dressed in white. When he tried to look up, the face was hazy. His vision swam. He remembers the man saying something. He doesn’t remember what.
He doesn’t remember much else at all, but for two things:
He remembers Xian-gege, voice breaking with relief, telling him, “You’re going to be okay.”
And he remembers how warm the man’s arms are when he is picked up and cradled tightly at his chest.
That was the last day he was Wen Yuan.
The next time he wakes up, his name is Lan Yuan, and he is in a much calmer place, more pristinely clean than anything he’d ever seen before. He is still so weak, but he can feel a hand gently held around his own. When he looks to the side, he sees the man in white who he now realizes is the Rich-gege who had once bought him a toy in the market and who his Xian-gege had seemed so sad to see leave. In the coming days, he would come to know him by two new names: Hanguang-jun and Father. But for this moment, he is still Rich-gege, someone who’d once been nice to him, now asleep by his side.
A hand cards through his hair and his eyes flutter closed again.
“You’re safe,” Xian-gege whispers. “Go back to sleep.”
In relief and calmer than he’d felt in so long, he sleeps.
Those first days after getting to the Cloud Recesses were full of confusion. He met so many new people, all asking him who he was, what his name was, where he came from. It was all so overwhelming, so he would just shake his head and blink back the tears that welled up in his eyes. Some people were very nice, though. Like Zewu-jun, who brought him sweet treats and held his hand when Rich-gege and Xian-gege weren’t there. Apparently, Rich-gege was very injured and could not leave the clean, pretty room that he had first woken up in. Zewu-jun never asked who he was. He always seemed really sad when he looked at him though.
When Zewu-jun would bring him back to the place he’d soon learn is called the Jingshi, sometimes he would have very tense conversations with Rich-gege. It scared him, so he would go hide under the blankets. Xian-gege would always join him and make silly faces at him until he was giggling.
In hindsight, Lan Sizhui knows that the elders didn’t like him being at the Cloud Recesses and suspected him of being a Wen refugee. Even with debilitating injuries, Father fought to keep him there. He never learned the details, but he knows the arguments were brutal.
Back then, he would just look forward to nightfall because that was the time that Rich-gege would hold him gently and Xian-gege would whisper that they were safe, just like that first night. That was the only thing he really needed.
For the next few years, he spends his days learning.
He learns his name is Lan Yuan. Around other people, he should call Rich-gege ‘Hanguang-jun.’ In private, he could call him ‘Father.’ He learns Zewu-jun is Zewu-jun, but he is also Father’s brother. He learns about all of the elders and Lan Qiren who is Father’s uncle and who refuses to look at Lan Yuan.
He learns that people don’t talk about why Father is injured. Instead they say he is ‘in seclusion.’ They make it sound voluntary, but Lan Yuan sees the way Father’s face gets tight and frustrated whenever he has to sit down from the pain.
He learns not to ask about the one night he had gone to stay with Zewu-jun. There was something about Father the next day that scared him. While Zewu-jun helped Father with his injuries in tense silence, Lan Yuan sat in the corner with Xian-gege who looked so oddly heartbroken.
Another thing Lan Yuan learns is to never, ever speak of Xian-gege. If the elders don’t like Lan Yuan, they absolutely despise Xian-gege. Xian-gege has to live in a little, isolated house on the edge of the forest that is surrounded by pretty, blue flowers (Lan Yuan learns they’re called gentians. That is also how he learns not to mention the house.) Although Xian-gege has to disappear to his secluded home when other people are around, he spends most of his time in the Jingshi with him and Father anyways.
When Lan Yuan starts classes, he learns how to be a good Lan disciple. He receives white, Lan robes and a basic disciples’ forehead ribbon. He learns the forehead ribbon is sacred and that he should never take it off around those who aren’t family. Xian-gege laughed at his appearance the first time he had put it on and said, “He’s the spitting image of you, Lan Zhan!” (He also hugged Lan Yuan and told him he was proud.)
In private lessons with Zewu-jun, Lan Yuan learns all the rules of Gusu. There are very many and he has to memorize them all. When Zewu-jun deems him ready, Lan Yuan begins attending classes with the other young disciples, though he still has to have extra private lessons. This change also means that he has to start sleeping in the disciples’ quarters instead of the Jingshi.
Lan Yuan had cried a lot about that.
Father assured him he would be okay and that he would still be able to visit him every day. It was still so scary when Zewu-jun had led him into the dormitories, knowing he would have to sleep without Father’s hand in his.
He has a lot of nightmares. Luckily, whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat, Xian-gege is somehow always there to soothe him back to sleep. He doesn’t know how Xian-gege always knows when he needs him, but he is incredibly grateful for it. He’s not sure how he could’ve coped if Xian-gege hadn’t been there.
Lan Yuan’s days go like this:
He wakes up very early in the morning and puts his clothes on for the day, tying the forehead ribbon just like Father showed him. He goes to the cafeteria and eats his breakfast in silence alongside his fellow disciples.
He goes to class, listening very carefully so he doesn’t fall behind everyone who has been studying for longer than him. He sits up very straight and pretends he is Father so that when Lan Qiren glances at him, he can find no fault.
When the other children are released for free time, Lan Yuan walks on his own up the hill to attend his extra session with Zewu-jun. Zewu-jun is much more patient with him than his other teachers. Lan Yuan doesn’t have to pretend to be Father with him.
After his lessons, Zewu-jun walks Lan Yuan to the Jingshi. This is his absolute favorite time of the day. Some days, Father is able to sit up and some he is completely bed-bound, but he always listens attentively as Lan Yuan excitedly tells him about his day. If he ever thinks Father’s reactions are subdued, Xian-gege is always there to balance him out with large grins and teasing remarks.
On really good days, sometimes they even go out back behind the Jingshi and play with the rabbits. Father piles bunnies on top of him and Xian-gege laughs and laughs, saying “Lan Zhan, you’re just as bad as me, burying our little radish like this!” Father just smiles and adds another rabbit to the pile. Those are Lan Yuan’s favorite days.
Eventually, Lan Yuan has to leave and go back to the loneliness of the disciples’ quarters once again. Father hugs him gently and Xian-gege kisses him on the head in goodbye.
Then, Lan Yuan goes to sleep and wakes up the next day to do it all over again.
One day in the first snowfall of winter, what must have been almost two years since he had gotten to the Cloud Recesses, Zewu-jun walks him to the Jingshi for his afternoon visit like usual. Xian-gege is sitting outside the Jingshi, looking up at the sky, bare feet lazily swinging off the edge. It wasn’t odd to find Xian-gege here, as Lan Yuan knows he spends most of his time keeping Father company. He looks a bit bored sitting out there like that, but he knows the rest of the sect doesn’t like him wandering around too much.
He waves at Lan Yuan when he spots them and gets up to follow them inside. Xian-gege and Zewu-jun don’t say anything to each other, which is normal as well. He doesn’t think Zewu-jun likes Xian-gege very much, but he would never dare ask him to confirm. Xian-gege just says he shouldn’t worry about it. As they walk into the Jingshi, Xian-gege finds a place by the door, casually leaning on the wall.
On this day, Zewu-jun actually follows in and sits down as well. Zewu-jun never stays, always just dropping Lan Yuan off after a few short sentences exchanged with his brother. Lan Yuan looks around suspiciously from Zewu-jun, to Father, to Xian-gege.
“Come sit, A-Yuan,” Father says, gesturing to a spot in front of him. Lan Yuan does as he says, kneeling in front of his father. From behind him, Father pulls out a forehead ribbon that he formally presents to Lan Yuan. He’s confused until he inspects it further and notices the cloud insignia denoting this a forehead ribbon for the members of the inner Lan family themselves. Lan Yuan’s ribbon is only a plain, unadorned disciple’s ribbon.
“May I touch your ribbon?” Father asks gently. Lan Yuan nods and Father reaches around, untying the band from his head.
“Father,” Lan Yuan says when he’s finished. He stares at the insignia of the forehead ribbon still held out to him. “What…?”
“Wangji has been fighting hard to have you be recognized officially by the clan, A-Yuan,” Zewu-jun explains. He has a soft smile on his face. “You are now recognized by the Lan family records as Wangji’s son.”
Lan Yuan looks with wide eyes back to Father.
“Will you accept this ribbon as well as the courtesy name of Sizhui?” Father asks.
Lan Yuan looks from Father to Zewu-jun to Xian-gege who’s still leaning against the wall. Xian-gege smiles warmly at him and nods.
“I accept,” Lan Yuan tells Father.
With that, he allows Father to tenderly tie the new, proper main family ribbon in place. When he sits back, Lan Yuan reaches up to feel the new insignia and feels a warmth go through him. He already knew Father is Father and that he is loved very much, but this feels significant in a new way. He is a real, true Lan now and no one can say otherwise.
Under the proud gaze of the three people he loves most, Lan Yuan feels himself reborn again. Over these years of shifting names and identities, he feels himself settle into this new skin that will be the last he’ll ever need.
On that day, once Wen Yuan, then Lan Yuan, becomes Lan Sizhui.
Another year passes by and Lan Sizhui faces a new dilemma.
When he first came to the Cloud Recesses, he was so concerned with fitting in and not giving anyone a reason to take him away from his father that he had learned to be very quiet. The best way to not say anything wrong was to say nothing at all, so his classmates had come to know him as the quiet child who spent all his time away in the Jingshi or with Zewu-jun. This meant that it had been almost three years and Lan Sizhui still had no friends.
He had never known people his own age before, so he had no frame of reference, but he saw the way the other kids stayed together in groups and felt that there was something wrong with him. He wants to make friends, but he has no idea how he’s supposed to get one.
“Father, how do you make friends?” Lan Sizhui asks in the Jingshi alone with Father one day.
Father turns to him, expression unreadable. Lan Sizhui waits patiently, but Father remains silent.
“Father?” he prompts. “How did you make friends when you were in training?”
“You should ask your uncle,” Father says.
And that ends that conversation.
The next day, Lan Sizhui goes to visit Zewu-jun. This last year had seen a shift in Lan Sizhui’s daily routine in that he finally graduated from Zewu-jun’s extra lessons, so he didn’t have any set time to visit his uncle anymore, but Zewu-jun made it clear that his door was always open to Lan Sizhui.
“How to make friends?” Zewu-jun repeats, sipping his tea thoughtfully. “Are you having trouble with the other disciples?”
“No!” Lan Sizhui quickly assures. He frowns slightly, wringing his hands in his sleeves. “They’re fine. I just don’t know how to talk to them.”
“Don’t worry too much, Sizhui,” Zewu-jun assures him with a smile. “Just be yourself and I’m sure you’ll make friends.”
Lan Sizhui nods, but isn’t too sure about that. He’s been being himself this whole time after all. Will that really help him make friends?
The next day, Lan Sizhui’s quest for answers takes him to the forest behind the Gentian house. Since he doesn’t have extra lessons anymore, Lan Sizhui had also been allowed to wander as he pleased as long as he didn’t go anywhere off limits. Sometimes he would go straight to the Jingshi, but other times he would just want to see his Xian-gege alone.
When Xian-gege wasn’t with Lan Sizhui or Father in the Jingshi, he spent all his time in the forest, usually in a big tree with branches that stretched out over the Gentian house that served as his official quarters. Lan Sizhui would often find him playing oddly nostalgic melodies on his flute or simply napping on a wide branch. Today he could easily find Xian-gege by following the disconcertingly haunting melody from the bottom of the hill.
“A-Yuan, have you come to see me?” Xian-gege calls out cheerfully when Lan Sizhui finds the right tree. “Come on up!”
Lan Sizhui climbs up with only a little effort, so used to hanging out with Xian-gege like this as he is. He’s sure none of the Lan would let him climb trees like this if they knew, but he’s always happy Xian-gege trusts him to manage. Once up, Xian-gege pats a spot next to him on the branch and he climbs over, letting Xian-gege put a comforting arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.
“How’s my little radish today? Did you go to see Lan Zhan yet?”
“Okay,” he responds. “And wanted to see you first.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, picking up on Lan Sizhui’s low mood.
“Xian-gege, do you know how to make friends?”
“Are you trying to make friends with your classmates?”
Lan Sizhui nods.
“Ah, the Lan are all a bunch of fuddy-duddies,” Xian-gege sighs. “This’ll be hard.”
Lan Sizhui frowns. “How’d you make friends with Father?”
Xian-gege barks a laugh.
“I annoyed the shit out of him.”
“Gege! Bad word!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Xian-gege laughs. “But I was basically a huge pest to him and he hated me for it.”
“But he doesn’t now!”
“No,” Xian-gege says and a brief, pained look goes over his face. “Guess he doesn’t.”
“I don’t want to be annoying,” Lan Sizhui comments, frowning to himself.
“Ah, what a sweet, pure little radish you are,” Xian-gege croons and pets his hair. “How could anyone resist being friends with you?”
“No one talks to me,” he sighs.
“You’ll just have to talk to them first, then.”
“What do I say?”
“Tell them you want to be friends.”
“Will that really work?”
“Maybe,” Xian-gege responds, unhelpfully. He laughs at Lan Sizhui’s following pout and adds, “If they say no, you could just keep annoying them until they say yes. Foolproof plan!”
Lan Sizhui very much doubts that, but then again, Xian-gege always says he has a lot of friends. If anyone would be an expert on friend-making, wouldn’t it be Xian-gege? And it’s not like any of the other advice he’s gotten so far has been helpful.
“Okay,” he says, eventually. “I’ll try.”
The next day, Lan Sizhui wakes up and stops a senior passing in the dormitory hallway, shyly asking him, “Um, shixiong, would you be my, uh. My friend?”
The boy looks at him like he has no idea what he’s talking about.
“Shidi, speak clearly.”
Lan Sizhui feels his cheeks grow warm and his resolve grow thin. Blinking at his feet, he says, “Never mind. Please excuse me, shixiong.”
“Do not use frivolous words,” the boy reminds him with a huff. Lan Sizhui doesn’t say anything as the boy simply walks off to go about his day.
He’s terribly embarrassed and wonders if Xian-gege was wrong after all; Xian-gege doesn’t really talk to any of the Lan disciples outside of Father, after all, so maybe his advice doesn’t work on them. But if this doesn’t work, how will he make friends?
Walking to class, Lan Sizhui agonizes over what to do. Two more shixiong walk by, likely headed to the training grounds. Lan Sizhui finds himself admiring the confidence in their step and the ease in which they seem to talk to each other. He wishes he could be like them.
Maybe that’s what he needs—more confidence!
As Lan Sizhui finds his desk and sits down, waiting for the other disciples to file in, he gathers his courage and turns to the boy who sits at his left.
“Would you please—” he begins to say right as someone calls for the boy to come help with something. Luckily, the boy didn’t even seem to notice Lan Sizhui was talking to him, so Lan Sizhui elects to pretend he doesn’t exist in his seat instead. Maybe he’ll try again when the boy comes back.
Unfortunately, before Lan Sizhui can try anything else, class starts. Lan Sizhui finds it especially hard to concentrate today, so hung up on his two failures already and the worry that, at this rate, he’ll be friendless forever.
When the next break comes, Lan Sizhui tries to ask another disciple to be his friend again, but is once again cut off by something else. He begins to ask another as they’re walking to lunch and is snapped at by a senior that “there is no talking in the dining hall” even though they haven’t even started eating yet! Back in class, he tries to ask yet another boy and manages to get out a full sentence, but his hopes are dashed when he realizes the boy, so absorbed in a book, didn’t even hear him.
Like this, Lan Sizhui faces defeat after defeat in his quest to make a friend. By the end of the day, his anxiety and nervousness have turned to frustration and it’s taking everything in him not to just scream, but excessive noise is forbidden and he doesn’t want to make trouble for Father or Zewu-jun or anyone, so he doesn’t. He just stands in his place at the training grounds as they wait for Lan Qiren to come start the lesson. Fuming.
Someone bumps into his shoulder and he looks up to see another boy had bumped into him.
“Sorry!” the boy says and backs up immediately.
“Would you please be my friend?” Lan Sizhui mumbles incoherently.
“Uh, what was that?” the boy asks and something in Lan Sizhui snaps.
“WOULD. YOU. PLEASE. BE. MY. FRIEND!” he screams, emphasizing each word at the top of his lungs. Let him say he didn’t hear that!
The boy gapes at him.
Everyone has gone silent around them.
He thinks he hears a pair of birds take off.
All of a sudden, Lan Sizhui realizes what he just did and his face lights up red. He sputters apologies and rapidly blinks away the tears he knows are about to come. He’s going to get kicked out of Gusu Lan, and after everything Father did to keep him here.
All of a sudden, the silence is broken by the boy’s cackling, uncontrollable laughter. Everyone who had been staring at Lan Sizhui like he’d grown a second head turns to give the laughing boy dirty looks instead. Lan Sizhui just watches him, completely bewildered.
“I’ve never heard anyone scream like that!” he says through his laughter and falls to the ground, hands gripping his sides.
At that moment, Lan Qiren chooses to come back and yells at the boy to be quiet, not to laugh without reason or in excess, to stand properly, what was all that screaming about, he heard it from a building away, the Cloud Recesses are no place to cause a commotion, and so on. Somehow, Lan Sizhui is spared from any more embarrassment by the scene the other boy causes. He’s not even punished, as Lan Qiren seems to think it was all the fault of the laughing boy and the boy in question doesn’t correct him, nor does anyone else. His classmates still give him a wide berth for the rest of the day, however.
When Lan Sizhui goes to leave for the day, he thinks maybe he’s just doomed to never have friends.
“Hey, Sizhui, right?” the boy who had been laughing earlier calls out to him. Lan Sizhui turns around as the boy bounds up to him. He’s embarrassed to say he’s not quite sure what the boy’s name is, even though he definitely recognizes him.
“My name’s Jingyi,” he says, sparing Lan Sizhui the embarrassment of having to ask. Jingyi grins at him. Lan Sizhui doesn’t think a Lan has ever grinned at him before.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Lan Sizhui says shyly.
“I like you,” Jingyi says frankly. “You asked if I wanted to be your friend, right? You still want to be friends?”
Lan Sizhui lights up and nods vigorously.
“Awesome! We’re gonna be best friends for life, Sizhui!” Jingyi announces and Lan Sizhui is overjoyed. The two walk back to the dormitories together, talking all the way, and Lan Sizhui almost forgets he hasn’t visited the Jingshi yet, so caught up in the conversation he is.
And so that’s how Lan Sizhui meets and befriends the most un-Lan-like Lan, Lan Jingyi.
Xian-gege had laughed and laughed when Lan Sizhui told him about the whole debacle. When he was done, he told Lan Sizhui to hold onto Jingyi, as friends are very important to have. Even though he was still a little annoyed at Xian-gege, he took the advice to heart.
Three years after coming to the Cloud Recesses, Father finally recovers enough to leave the Jingshi. At first, he just walks around the Cloud Recesses with Lan Sizhui, gaining his strength back. When the healers deem him ready, Father takes Lan Sizhui and Xian-gege out to the Gusu market.
Lan Sizhui had never been outside of the Cloud Recesses’ borders in all his time there, so this was a big occasion. He remembers how Xian-gege used to hoist him up onto his shoulders and walk around the bustling Yiling market and wonders if Gusu will be the same.
He isn’t on anyone’s shoulders, but he does get to hold both Father and Xian-gege’s hands! Lan Sizhui was a little scared to go out at first, since he’d been in the Cloud Recesses for so long now, but with his two favorite people by his side, he feels a lot better. Father stays quiet, still walking a bit slowly. Xian-gege excitedly points out stands to Lan Sizhui. Lan Sizhui finds himself wondering at everything, it all so different yet similar to what he’d known in Yiling.
At one point, a stand of toys catches his eye. Father is speaking with the merchant at another stand, so Lan Sizhui decides to go investigate on his own. Lan Sizhui is enamored with the variety available and takes the time to inspect each toy.
“Interested, Lan boy?” the merchant asks him eventually. Lan Sizhui isn’t sure what to say. He wonders if Father would buy him one of the toys.
“You here with anyone?” the man asks. Lan Sizhui nods and looks around for the distinctive white of Father’s robes or the shock of red from Xian-gege’s ribbon. Seeing neither, he begins to panic, eyes welling up with tears.
“Uh oh… did you get lost?”
Lan Sizhui nods and wipes the tears away.
“Ah, jeez, kid, come over here, I’ll help you find them,” the man says and reaches forward to grab his arm. It makes Lan Sizhui feel like he’s sitting in a stump, waiting for the arms hidden in the forest’s darkness to come get him. He instinctively jumps back and runs away. Dashing through the crowded market, he looks for any sign of Xian-gege and Father. His vision swims with tears the longer he goes without seeing them. When he’s lost all hope of ever finding his family again, he finds a hidden alleyway to sit in and cries into his knees. He tries to be silent, telling himself he has to be quiet and brave. Quiet and brave, quiet and brave, don’t let them hear you.
Xian-gege will be back. Xian-gege will find him. Xian-gege always finds him.
“A-Yuan! There you are,” comes a familiar voice. Lan Sizhui lifts his head to see Xian-gege, standing above him with a relieved expression. He crouches down and pulls Lan Sizhui into his arms. “Hey, hey, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”
“I didn’t know where you went,” he cries, trying to stifle his sniffles. “Don’t leave me, please.”
“I won’t. You’ll never be alone,” Xian-gege promises.
When he calms down, Xian-gege lets him go in favor of holding his hand.
“Now let’s go find Lan Zhan. He’s worried sick looking for you,” Xian-gege says. Lan Sizhui nods, guilty that he’s made Father worried.
Xian-gege keeps a tight grip on his hand as he leads them through the crowd.
“Ah, A-Yuan, look at that!” Xian-gege says, pointing out a stand selling various masks. He points to one resembling a rabbit and snickers. “I think Lan Zhan would look good in that one, don’t you?”
Lan Sizhui laughs and nods. He points to a different mask with a funny face. “Gege would look good in that!”
“Ah, A-Yuan! Watch it, or I’ll tickle you!” Xian-gege says in mock offense and makes grabby hands at him. Lan Sizhui laughs and ducks out of the way.
Like this, Xian-gege keeps pointing out stands or interesting parts of Gusu as they wander in search of Father. Lan Sizhui feels his mood lighten and curiosity return with Xian-gege by his side. Eventually, they do catch up to Father. As soon as Lan Sizhui sees him, he runs ahead, calling out. Father turns and catches him in his arms, breathing a sigh of relief.
“A-Yuan,” he says. “Where were you?”
“I got lost,” Lan Sizhui says, guilty again. “I’m sorry, Father.”
Father hugs him again. “It’s alright. Just don’t wander off without permission again.”
Lan Sizhui promises.
Before they head back to the Cloud Recesses that day, Father buys him a sweet treat and a new toy from the stand he’d been looking at earlier.
“Look at you, spoiling him again, Lan Zhan,” Xian-gege scolds playfully. “I did all the hard work finding him and I don’t get a thing! Aren’t you a lucky little radish, huh, A-Yuan?”
Lan Sizhui laughs and agrees and smiles up at Father, wide and bright, just like Xian-gege, because they’re not in the Cloud Recesses where such things are forbidden right now.
“Thank you, Father.”
Father pats his head, his lips turning up lightly at the corners.
“You’re welcome, A-Yuan.”
In the years after Father comes out of seclusion, he begins teaching some of the classes for younger disciples. That means he would sometimes teach Lan Sizhui’s own class. Lan Sizhui always likes it since he gets to walk to class with Father and show off how good of a student he is, but he does have one little problem.
“Hanguang-jun is so cool!” Jingyi gushes to him as they’re supposed to be working on an assignment. “I can’t believe he’s your dad.”
Lan Sizhui smiles halfheartedly. In the last few years, he’s gotten much more comfortable with his classmates. Most had forgotten his embarrassing attempts to make friends so long ago now and treat him as one of their own, just like any other disciple. He has cultivated a reputation for being polite, kind, and studious and is treated with kindness and respect in return. Jingyi, of course, is still his best friend who he spends basically every day with, meaning he is more comfortable with Jingyi than any of the other disciples. Regardless, he only nods along politely as Jingyi talks, unwilling to share his true thoughts today.
He glances over at Father who is helping another boy, pointing to his paper and showing him how to write something. He watches the careful attention Father shows and bites down on his lip, trying not to frown. He isn’t jealous. He is definitely not jealous.
“Sizhui? Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Lan Sizhui says, pasting a smile back on his face. “What were you saying, Jingyi?”
Hesitantly, Jingyi goes back to talking and Lan Sizhui does his best to focus this time.
Since Father started teaching, Lan Sizhui has been having these mean little thoughts. He didn’t want to be jealous, but he had once had Father all to himself. Seeing Father give his attention to all the other kids except him made him want to yell at his classmates until they knew that Lan Sizhui was Father’s son, not them! Lan Sizhui never did this, of course; these were very mean thoughts.
It’s just that some days he and Father’s schedules didn’t line up and they weren’t able to meet. He used to meet with Father every day. Even in the classroom where appearances must be maintained, Lan Sizhui kind of expected Father to have paid more attention to him.
It’s with these thoughts that Lan Sizhui wanders to the forest around the Gentian house. Father isn’t able to meet with him today, so Lan Sizhui has the afternoon to himself. Luckily for him, Xian-gege is always around, so that is the first place he goes.
“A-Yuan, A-Yuan,” Xian-gege calls from a tree. “Have you come to play with me?”
Sometimes on afternoons like these, Lan Sizhui would cajole Xian-gege into playing with him in the forest. Today, Lan Sizhui is feeling a little depressed, so he just shakes his head. Xian-gege hops down from the tree and puts an arm around him.
“Want to talk?” he asks and Lan Sizhui nods. Feeling a little clingy, Lan Sizhui burrows into Xian-gege’s side as they go to sit down next to the blue gentians on the house’s edge.
“What’s wrong?” Xian-gege asks as soon as they’re settled.
“It’s stupid,” Lan Sizhui mumbles.
“Even stupid things can hurt you for real,” Xian-gege tells him. “That doesn’t mean your feelings are stupid too.”
“It’s just…” Lan Sizhui begins, thinking of the best way to say it. “I miss Father.”
“Lan Zhan? Didn’t you have class with him earlier?”
“Yeah, but,” Lan Sizhui pouts, “he just teaches the other kids the whole time. We can’t even see each other today and he didn’t say anything to me in class.”
“Ahh,” Xian-gege says. “Is my A-Yuan jealous?”
“I said it was stupid,” Lan Sizhui whines, hiding his head in Xian-gege’s arms.
“It’s not stupid, I’m sorry for teasing you,” Xian-gege assures him. “My little radish must be doing so well in class that not even Hanguang-jun is worried!”
“But I’m not!” Lan Sizhui bursts, frustrated. “I’m okay at tests and I try to memorize the rules and everything and I’m definitely not the worst, but I’m also not the best! Even with Zewu-jun’s lessons and how much I study every day, I’m only ever ‘okay.’ And, and, and in training, all the other kids are way better than me! I can’t even stand straight on a sword yet and all the other kids have figured it out already. And then Father only ever gives them attention, not me, and I just wonder, maybe…”
He begins to cry and furiously wipes at his tears.
“Maybe I’m not good enough? Maybe that’s why he pays attention to the others? They have more potential than me. I know it was hard for Father to have me recognized as his son, but what if I’m not good enough? What if Father made a mistake and I’m just a bad son? What if he’s disappointed with me? What if he leaves me and picks one of them to be his son instead?”
“A-Yuan,” Xian-gege whispers and hugs Lan Sizhui close. “Listen to me. Your father loves you very much. He didn’t adopt you because he expects anything from you. He did it because he loves you and wants you to be happy. You could never disappoint him. I know sometimes it’s hard to figure out what Lan Zhan is thinking, but I know for sure that he is so, so proud of you.”
Lan Sizhui sniffles. “Is he?”
“Yeah, little radish. I’m proud too. You’re working so hard, we both see it. It doesn’t matter if you’re not top of your class, we’ll love you all the same. You don’t have to earn that love; it’s unconditional.”
“Mn,” he says quietly. Xian-gege laughs a little at that.
“Now you definitely sound like Lan Zhan’s son.”
Lan Sizhui smiles a little and squeezes Xian-gege a bit tighter. The problem still exists and he still doesn’t get to see Father today, but talking to Xian-gege has already made him feel a lot better.
“Thanks, Xian-gege,” he whispers.
“Anytime,” Xian-gege whispers back and presses a kiss into the top of his head.
Despite his daily anxieties, Lan Sizhui does still get to spend a lot of time with his father. They’ll often spend afternoons together with Xian-gege just like they used to, going out to feed the bunnies. Sometimes, he’ll end up falling asleep as Father brushes his hair and wake up back in his dormitory bed, carried in by either Father or Xian-gege.
One evening, Lan Sizhui falls asleep and wakes back up after dusk has already settled with a blanket curled around him. When he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he notices he’s still in the Jingshi. Father and Xian-gege aren’t around, so he quietly gets up and goes to look for them.
The door to the Jingshi is open a crack and Lan Sizhui feels a warm breeze flow through. Peeking around the door, he sees Father and Xian-gege seated on the edge of the deck. Lan Sizhui wants to call out, but something about the scene makes him hesitate.
Father has his guqin on his lap, lightly strumming a subdued melody. Fingers pause above the strings, then pluck out a chord and pause again, as if waiting for a response. Xian-gege sits at his side, watching quietly with a soft smile. He says something that Lan Sizhui doesn’t hear.
Between them lies an opened jar of alcohol, the moon reflecting off its untouched surface.
Lan Sizhui doesn’t say anything and goes back to sleep inside the Jingshi.
“Father, will you teach me to play the guqin?” Lan Sizhui asks one day. Father turns to him with a curious look, but doesn’t ask why.
A few minutes later, he’s seated on his father’s lap with his hands held in Father’s own. He pays close attention to the feeling of the strings vibrating beneath his fingers.
“Very good,” Father praises and Lan Sizhui feels his heart soar.
They begin having guqin lessons every other day after this, just father and son. His anxieties about being a disappointment fade a lot.
When Lan Sizhui is thirteen, he goes on his first night-hunt.
He’s nervous, but he’s trained a lot in the last few years and has shot up to one of the best disciples of his age. Father is the one leading his group as well, and Lan Sizhui knows his father would never let anything bad happen to any of them.
“You’ll do great,” Xian-gege tells him the day before. “Don’t worry too much, kid.”
“I wish you could come with,” Lan Sizhui admits to him. Xian-gege smiles sadly in that way Lan Sizhui hates and ruffles his hair.
“You’ll have your father and all your friends, won’t you? You don’t need little old me.”
“I know,” Lan Sizhui tells him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you there.”
“Hey,” Xian-gege says more seriously. “You know I’d never leave you, A-Yuan. If you’re ever scared, just call out for me and I’ll find my way to you.”
“How would you even hear me?”
“Don’t underestimate me. Do you know who I am?” he teases. “I’m your Xian-gege. And if my A-Yuan needs me, I’ll know it.”
“Pfft,” Lan Sizhui laughs. “Okay.”
Xian-gege sends him off with a hug and a last assurance that, “You’re going to do so good.”
On the evening of the night-hunt, Lan Sizhui lines up with the rest of his fellow disciples, standing next to Jingyi.
“Oh god, what if we see a fierce corpse?” Jingyi whispers to him.
“Hanguang-jun will be with us, Jingyi. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but we’ll still have to look at it! I’m going to have nightmares for forever!”
“We are training to be cultivators, you know.”
“Sizhui, you have to cover my eyes if we see something bad.”
Before Lan Sizhui can assure Jingyi that they’ll be fine again, Father turns up and all of the disciples instinctively straighten their backs—Lan Sizhui included. Father glances at them all and nods once.
“Come,” is all he says.
Father takes the lead, Lan Sizhui the first behind him and Jingyi halfway hidden behind his own back. With Father physically in front of him, Lan Sizhui is already far more confident than he had been feeling before. He holds his head high and readies himself for anything.
In the end, they don’t face a fierce corpse like Jingyi was afraid of—just a low-level monster. It’s nothing to scoff at for a group of thirteen-year-olds, but still much more manageable than a corpse. Lan Sizhui remembers how scared he used to be of the fierce corpses Xian-gege kept locked away in his cave in Yiling, but it’s mostly vague impressions of the fear at this point. Ning-gege was a corpse too, but Lan Sizhui was never afraid of him. Either way, Lan Sizhui still would rather not face a fierce corpse any more than Jingyi and is very happy for the prey they do find.
The best part is that Father doesn’t have to raise a hand the entire time. He tells a few of them to adjust their forms or move this way or that, but the group manages to kill the creature all on their own in the end. Lan Sizhui is the one to deal the final blow, Jingyi and another boy rounding the monster into their trap. When Lan Sizhui looks back after ensuring the monster is dead, he sees Father looking proudly at him and he almost bursts into a wide smile. He only stops himself because they have an audience to maintain appearances for.
When they return to the Cloud Recesses, Lan Sizhui immediately goes to Xian-gege to tell him all about it. Xian-gege has a big smile throughout the whole story, seeming almost as excited as Lan Sizhui feels.
“A-Yuan,” Xian-gege says. “Do you know how proud of you I am? You’re growing up so well. Before I know it my little radish will be ready for harvesting!”
“Xian-gege,” Lan Sizhui laughs as Xian-gege ruffles his hair. “I’m not a kid anymore!”
“So proud, so proud,” Xian-gege praises. “Even if you’re not a kid, you’ll always be my little radish.”
It’s been years since Lan Sizhui began guqin lessons with Father and he’s gotten good enough to the point that even Lan Qiren, who once never dared to even look at him, is praising him now. Lan Sizhui takes that as the greatest testament to his progress. Since he’s gotten to this point because of his father’s diligent teaching, Lan Sizhui wants to repay him somehow. Talking with Xian-gege, he comes up with the idea to perform a song for Father.
For two weeks after coming up with the idea, Lan Sizhui secretly practices at the Gentian house with Xian-gege every day. The song he’s decided to play is one that Xian-gege has played for him on his flute a few times and always hums when he comes to calm Lan Sizhui down from a nightmare. Xian-gege’s eyebrows raised when Lan Sizhui said he wanted to play this song, but he agreed to give feedback anyways.
“I’m sure Lan Zhan will like any song you play for him,” Xian-gege says, “but why this one?”
“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits. “I just really like it, I guess. It always calms me down. Maybe Father will like it for that, too?”
“I bet,” Xian-gege assures him.
So they practice every day until Lan Sizhui knows the song inside and out. On the two week mark, he asks Father to meet him in the evening so he can gift him with a performance. Father agrees and even looks a bit excited, as much as he can look excited for anything.
“By the way, what’s this song called, Xian-gege?” Lan Sizhui asks the afternoon before he goes off to the Jingshi.
Xian-gege pauses curiously at that. “Hm. I’m not actually sure. I must have forgotten at some point.”
On that odd note, Lan Sizhui says goodbye and heads off to the Jingshi with his guqin on his back. Lan Sizhui offered for Xian-gege to come too, but he said this was a private performance for Father and he wouldn’t want to intrude. He had some things to do in the forest tonight anyways. Xian-gege always had weird things to do in the forest, but Lan Sizhui wouldn’t question him for it. That was just what he was like.
In the Jingshi, Lan Sizhui sets up and awaits his father’s arrival. Father comes in and smiles lightly, sitting in front as Lan Sizhui’s audience of one. It really feels like a formal performance. It makes him a bit nervous. He’s been feeling extra warm all day because of the nerves, actually. He wills it away and remembers Xian-gege’s confidence in him.
Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath and positions his hands on the strings just as Father taught him. Trying to channel every piece of advice both his father and his Xian-gege had ever given him, he begins to play the nameless song. It comes easy to him, with so much practice now. He closes his eyes, losing himself to the music, and feels like Xian-gege is here, cradling him in his arms like he did when he was a child.
His memories are interrupted by a strange, choked noise that has him opening his eyes again, halfway through the performance. Father is staring at him, eyes wide and fists clenched at his sides, in undeniable, plain horror.
Lan Sizhui stops immediately.
“Father?” he questions, terrified. He’s never seen Father like this before. “What’s wrong?”
“Where did you learn that song?” Father asks, voice deadly quiet.
Lan Sizhui’s heart sinks.
“I—um, I—you—is it—did I do something wrong? I don’t—I don’t understand—”
“Sizhui,” Father says and then stops himself, looking into his lap.
“Was I not supposed to play that?” Lan Sizhui practically whispers.
“I’m sorry,” Father says. “I didn’t know that—I can’t—”
Lan Sizhui has never heard Father at a loss for words like this before. There’s something horribly wrong here and he has no idea what. He’s just terrified.
“Please leave for now, Sizhui. I need a moment,” he says eventually, not looking at him. “Please.”
In a rush, Lan Sizhui quickly puts the guqin away where he had gotten it from the Jingshi in the first place and stumbles out without another word to Father. There’s a horrible cold running through him, an icy fear that Lan Sizhui has just done something unforgiveable. He just wanted to do something nice for his father; he doesn’t know how things turned out like this.
Wiping away tears faster than they can come, Lan Sizhui instinctively moves towards the forests behind the Gentian house. He suddenly needs to see Xian-gege.
As he walks, then jogs, then runs up the hill, every worst case scenario and prickling anxiety he’s ever had crops back up. Did he just ruin everything? Does Father hate him now? Was it all a lie and he isn’t worthy of being Father’s child after all? Why did Xian-gege say Father would like the song if Father’s reaction to it was like this? Why does no one ever tell him anything? Even important things like songs that make your father hate you? Why can’t Father tell him these things? Why does he shut Lan Sizhui out and hide everything important from him? Why is Lan Sizhui always left to guess what things he should and shouldn’t say all on his own? Why doesn’t Father ever tell him what’s wrong?!
“Xian-gege!” he calls out into the forest, frustration and terror making him throw any regard for Gusu Lan rules to the wind. “Xian-gege, please! I need you! Please!”
It begins to rain, but Lan Sizhui doesn’t care. He keeps moving, fighting through his tears, even when he’s gone into an area he doesn’t recognize anymore.
“You said you’d come when I need you!” he yells. “I need you! Xian-gege!”
As he says this, he trips on something and falls down a small hill into the mud, ruining his white robes. Lost and tired and now dirty, Lan Sizhui curls up into a ball by a tree stump next to where he fell and lets it all go. Through the pouring rain, he lets himself sob like a little kid again.
“A-Yuan!”
Lan Sizhui’s head shoots up. Xian-gege is there in front of him, face distraught with worry.
“A-Yuan, what happened? I heard you calling, are you alright?”
“Xian-gege,” Lan Sizhui cries and buries his head into Xian-gege’s arms.
“Hey, hey, shh,” Xian-gege whispers to him, brushing the hair from his face. “You’re burning up, kid. What’s got you so upset that you’re running around out here in the rain?”
“I don’t know. I—I did something wrong,” he says through his hiccupping sobs. Xian-gege said he’s burning up. Maybe that’s why he had been feeling so warm all day. “I don’t know what—what happened. I tried to play the—the song, but Father—I’ve never seen Father look like that. I think he hates—hates me now.”
“Oh, A-Yuan,” Xian-gege says, holding him tighter. “Lan Zhan would never hate you. I don’t know what happened, but I know he would do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe.”
Lan Sizhui makes some incomprehensible noise, not even sure himself what he’s trying to say.
“We both love you,” he says. Lan Sizhui nods eventually, tears dying down. Xian-gege would never lie to him. He knows Father loves him, deep down. He was just so scared… “We have to get you back before your fever gets worse. Do you think you can stand?”
Lan Sizhui tries and finds himself unexpectedly wobbly on his feet. Everything is swaying dangerously. Xian-gege puts a hand on his arm and he can barely feel it. He really hadn’t noticed how sick he was. It’s so dark now, too. How long was he out here?
“Come on, just one step at a time,” he says. “You can do it.”
Lan Sizhui does as Xian-gege says and tries to keep his focus ahead of him. After a few steps, he trips and falls again.
“I can’t do it, gege.”
“Yes, you can,” Xian-gege urges. “You’re my sweet, brave boy. You can do it. Please, A-Yuan. You have to get up. You have to survive.”
The words are familiar yet so strangely distant. They urge Lan Sizhui on though, and he clambers to his feet, using the trees for balance.
“Yes! Just straight ahead. One step at a time. Come on.”
Blindly, Lan Sizhui follows Xian-gege’s instructions and feels himself getting closer and closer to passing out. Each time Lan Sizhui feels like giving up, Xian-gege repeats his instructions, that phrase of “You have to keep going. You have to get up. You have to survive.”
At some point in his hazy, delirious journey back, he sees a fuzzy, distant light and falls forward, trying to follow it. He’s caught by a pair of arms that hold him steadfast. The world sways around him and he tries to blink it away, looking up at his savior. He thinks he hears someone calling his name.
“Xian-gege?” he mumbles incoherently.
Then he passes out.
He wakes up to the familiar ceiling of the Jingshi.
He tries to look around, getting a strange sense of déjà vu. It feels just like when he first woke up in the Cloud Recesses, surroundings so pristine and calm in comparison to the fever wracking his body. To his side, he spots a white figure.
“You’re okay now, Sizhui,” Father says and grabs his outstretched hand that he hadn’t even realized he’d moved.
“Are you mad at me?” Lan Sizhui asks and he truly feels like ‘A-Yuan’ again.
“No,” Father says and puts something blessedly cool and damp on his forehead. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Earlier. The song. I wasn’t supposed to play it. You were angry.”
“Sizhui.” Father squeezes his hand. “I apologize. I was not mad. You did nothing wrong. I was merely not expecting you to know the song and became overwhelmed.”
Lan Sizhui nods and is distantly embarrassed for the couple tears that spill over his cheeks.
“Is that why you were out in the forest? Because you thought I was angry with you?”
“Sorry,” he admits, nodding again.
“No need,” Father says. “Please don’t do it again. But Sizhui…”
Lan Sizhui looks up at him.
“Please know I am very proud of you. You played well tonight.”
Lan Sizhui blinks away more tears. He holds Father’s hand closer, allowing himself the comfort. Xian-gege was right—Father doesn’t hate him, he still loves him. Father is proud of him. It occurs to him then that the only thing this scene is missing is Xian-gege’s hand carding through his hair to make him truly feel like the Lan Yuan who had first stayed in this room.
Lan Sizhui looks around, then tries to get up to see better.
“You’re sick, Sizhui. Lie down.”
“Wait, but,” Lan Sizhui says, “where’s Xian-gege?”
“What?” Father asks, voice too quiet. Lan Sizhui looks to him and sees that same hint of horror he’d seen earlier. It sends panic shooting down his spine.
“He was with me,” he tells Father, breathing heavier. “He got me back home. Where is he?”
Father says nothing.
“Father, where is Xian-gege? He was just with me! We must’ve gotten separated. He’s probably still out there, you have to go get him! He might be lost, please, Father,” he explains, getting more and more feverish. He feels his eyes getting heavier, but he doesn’t want to sleep until Xian-gege is here with him.
“Sizhui.” Father looks so concerned and heartbroken and Lan Sizhui doesn’t understand. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that has nothing to do with the fever.
“Do you remember Wei Ying?”
Lan Sizhui wants to respond. He wants to say “of course, how could I forget Xian-gege?” or “why wouldn’t I remember Xian-gege?” but the world is swirling around him again. He can’t keep his eyes open any longer.
There’s an itching at the back of his mind that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. It sounds a lot like the song he isn’t supposed to know. For once, it brings him no comfort.
He falls asleep.
He’s back in the cave—the cave that has been the subject of so many of his nightmares.
“Xian-gege!” he calls out. He walks further into the cave. Xian-gege always comes when he needs him. Xian-gege promised he’d always come. The cave is so, so cold.
“Xian-gege, please, I’m scared!” he cries. He walks and walks and keeps walking, wondering if the cave was truly this long, this dark. He keeps walking until he reaches the back wall, illuminated by the light from the entrance that should be much farther away than it is for how far he’s come. He pauses in place, terrified of what he sees.
There’s a heap of black and gray in front of him. It’s familiar.
“A-Yuan,” a voice says behind him. Lan Sizhui spins to see his Xian-gege and immediately throws his arms out around him.
“Xian-gege, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, my little radish,” he whispers and there’s something wrong with it. “I’m so sorry.”
Xian-gege puts a hand on Lan Sizhui’s arm and lightly pushes him back. There’s a remorseful little smile on his face that Lan Sizhui doesn’t know what to do with.
“I would protect you from this for forever if I could,” he says.
“From what?” Lan Sizhui cries, panic making him blink hard and fast. “What are you talking about? Xian-gege?”
Xian-gege turns him around by the shoulders until he is face-to-face with that horrible, familiar heap again. He doesn’t want to look at it, but he can’t turn around, frozen with fear.
“I’m right here. You’re alright. You’re safe.”
Then Xian-gege pushes him.
Lan Sizhui stumbles forward into the crumpled figures of him and Xian-gege from this memory he refuses to think of until suddenly he is free-falling through open air. He falls and falls and he wants to scream, but what comes tumbling out of him is not that.
Like dust catching gusts of wind, Lan Sizhui feels memories slipping his grasp and into the sky above. He reaches out desperately, not wanting to forget, and catches glimpses of the shadows clinging to each memory. Here, where his Xian-gege had made funny faces under the blankets. There, where nonsense words and familiar melodies had tugged him away from the nightmares and into pleasant dreams. When he turned around, was there really anyone there? When he closed his eyes, did he imagine the haziness of the body around him and the distant quality to that voice?
Lan Sizhui lands and feels the breath stolen from his lungs. On his hands and knees, he looks around at his scattered memories in horror. He hurries to touch another and sees blue flowers with no one around.
“Xian-gege,” he cries and clutches his fists around the memory, terrified to understand the truth it represents. “Xian-gege, please.”
“Shh, A-Yuan,” a voice whispers, but it’s too quiet.
Lan Sizhui turns so fast it makes his head hurt, but there’s no one there.
A warmth presses into his back, like the hand that has pushed him forward, that has always encouraged him to not give up. And it’s not right, there’s something so wrong with it, but hasn’t it always been that way?
“It’s okay, A-Yuan,” the voice says again. A hand cards through his hair.
“Xian-gege, what—” he cries and feels warm tears slip down his cheeks. “It’s not true, it’s not.”
More memories cascade by. His father alone in the cool night air, plucking a soft melody on his guqin. Xian-gege is there beside him, gazing at Father with a sad smile. But no, that’s not quite right because Father is alone. His melody asks for a response, an endless call of “where are you?” and Xian-gege says something, but he doesn’t because no one answers Father. No one ever answered Father.
“Please just forget about me, Lan Zhan.”
Running through the forests of Gusu, playing hide and seek. Xian-gege drops down from a tree and says, “Gotcha!” and Lan Sizhui laughs and asks him for just one more round! But he doesn’t, because the leaves only ever move in the breeze and no one finds him.
Lost in Gusu, Xian-gege is there when he calls and leads him back to Father. He points to whatever he finds interesting, distracting Lan Sizhui from his earlier fear, but he doesn’t because no one holds Lan Sizhui’s hand. He says, “Gege would look good in that!” and Xian-gege teases back, but he doesn’t because he never said those words out loud.
A smile, a laugh, a hug, a presence at his side that should be there, but isn’t.
Lan Sizhui smiles proudly at Father, who looks even prouder tying the Lan clan head ribbon around him. Later that day, his father who’s never been one for touch tugs him close, cradling his head into his chest, saying, “I’m proud of you.” Xian-gege brushes the strands of hair from his face, pulling both of them into his embrace with a bright laugh. But no, there’s only one pair of arms around him.
But there! Right there!
Lan Sizhui twirls playfully to see the ends of the ribbon swirl around and Father reproaches him quietly with a small smile that says he really doesn’t mind and Xian-gege claps and cheers, telling Father, “What do you expect? This little Lan disciple is mine too, you know!” Father simply agrees. But he doesn’t because he doesn’t respond, doesn’t hear him. “I’m so proud of you,” Xian-gege tells him, but no because Father is the one who whispers, “Wei Ying would be proud of you, too.”
“Xian-gege, I don’t want this!” Lan Sizhui cries and is enveloped in his Xian-gege’s arms. It’s warm, but it isn’t.
“You’re so strong, my A-Yuan,” he says and it’s just like—
The cold cave, a too-warm body, blood and dirt and terror caked into everything. “You can do this, you’re so strong, A-Yuan.” Xian-gege is warm too and wraps around him, tucking them into a dark corner, hidden from the world. “You’ll never be alone A-Yuan, I promise.” He’s too warm, too scared, too everything, but with Xian-gege he knows he’ll be safe. He sleeps to the low hums of that lullaby and when he wakes up, he’s less warm and so is Xian-gege, but he’s still there, just like he said he would be.
“Lan Zhan,” Xian-gege says but he doesn’t and a tall man looks down at them, white robes stained with dirt and blood. “Please take care of him. Please.”
A-Yuan looks into the familiar man’s eyes and wonders what could make a person’s face crumple like that, why this man looks so in pain. The man says something he never hears. Then they’re leaving, going home, or what will be home, as he’ll soon learn. A-Yuan holds onto the man’s back and trusts him because Xian-gege trusts him and he promised never to leave A-Yuan. But no, because didn’t Father carry him home in his arms that day? No, no, it’s because he was carrying—
And then they were at the shadowy, hollowed spot in the ground. “I’m so sorry A-Yuan, I’m so sorry,” Xian-gege cries from behind him, but A-Yuan can’t tear his eyes away from—
The man is crying. A-Yuan, no Lan Sizhui, has never seen Father cry like that ever since. His choking sobs echo around the clearing, but A-Yuan doesn’t cry because he can’t stop looking at—
The man is carrying something. Cradling it to his chest and weeping. No, not something—someone. Small, covered in black and dirt and dried blood, and it can’t be right because Xian-gege has never looked that small, so it can’t be—
He lowers the small thing into the ground and begins to cover it with dirt, but he keeps stopping with shaking hands, rubbing dirt into his eyes and he shouldn’t do that because Xian-gege says that’s bad for you and he’s—
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” comes the haunting mantra behind him, but it doesn’t because the one in that hole, buried now under the soil is—
“No, please, don’t leave—”
What the man had said that he never heard was—
“—Wei Ying.”
Xian-gege—
“No!” Lan Sizhui twirls around and there’s no one there.
There’s never been anyone there, not really, because his Xian-gege died twelve years ago in a cave in Yiling, curled around him and whispering promises that Lan Sizhui would never be alone.
“Xian-gege?”
He smiles, form hazy.
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone, didn’t I?”
“But you did, didn’t you?” Lan Sizhui asks and only then does it really sink in. “You died.”
He just smiles. “I know. I’m sorry. But even so, I’ll be here as long as you need me, my A-Yuan.”
Lan Sizhui feels a tug on his body from beyond his dream and knows he’ll wake up soon, but he has a feeling that when he wakes up, that’s when Xian-gege will really be gone.
“Don’t leave me, Xian-gege!” he cries and runs into his arms. They’re still warm, even if they’re not.
“I’ll always be here, A-Yuan,” he whispers and Lan Sizhui focuses everything he has in him on this moment. He won’t forget, he won’t forget, he won’t forget!
“I’ll always love you.”
And then he wakes up.
His father is still by his side, his hand in Lan Sizhui’s, eyes closed in meditation. Lan Sizhui squeezes it, hard, and Father looks down at him in concern.
“Father,” Lan Sizhui whispers. “Can I please hug you?”
Father obliges him with no hesitation and then Lan Sizhui is sitting up in Father’s lap, head buried into Father’s chest. With only a last hiccupping breath as warning, he lets the dam break and begins to sob. As he cries, he says nothing, heart breaking from the thought of that which he’s lost both now and twelve years ago. He doesn’t know if he’s ever cried like this—great retching sobs that reverberate through his whole body—except for the time he sat in a tree stump and choked on his terror, but he wasn’t allowed to let it out then as he is now.
Father holds him through it, likely confused by the horrible pain that has his son in its grips. He cards a hand through Lan Sizhui’s hair and that just makes him cry harder.
What feels like a lifetime of pain and grief later, the sobs become hiccups become quiet, unsteady breaths. Silence fills the Jingshi.
“I miss Xian-gege,” Lan Sizhui says.
Maybe that was the root of it. Maybe that’s why he’s clung to memories of a person who no longer exists, why he tried so hard to believe he was always there. He missed Xian-gege, the person who said he’d always be there. He doesn’t understand why Xian-gege had to die, why any of his family had to die. It isn’t fair.
But Xian-gege kept his promise. He swore Lan Sizhui would never be alone. And Lan Sizhui hasn’t been alone in these last twelve years. He’s had the Cloud Recesses and his classmates and his teachers. He’s had Jingyi. He’s had Zewu-jun. Most of all, he’s had Father.
Father, who holds him now just as he did so many years ago. Father, who has fought so hard to keep him here. Father, who is his family. Lan Sizhui doesn’t need to cling to shades of someone long gone to survive. Xian-gege said he was strong. With Father, Lan Sizhui can keep living.
Lan Sizhui misses Xian-gege so, so much.
“I miss him too,” Father says.
But he has never been alone.
One year later, Lan Sizhui hears a song echo through a forest—a song he heard in a cave long ago and a song quietly hummed at his side for all the intervening years.