Chapter Text
When Lan Sizhui first opens his eyes, it’s to see that he’s sitting on the ground back in the original mountainous Gusu forest that he had started in.
He looks over to his left. He looks over to his right.
The resentful spirit is nowhere in sight. Coincidentally, his friends are also nowhere in sight.
Lan Sizhui should be really concerned. And he is . He really is very concerned.
But also, he can’t help how he stares blankly at the ground. How he lets his vision blur and un-focus itself while his mind goes completely blank.
Lan Sizhui is supposed to be concerned. Lan Sizhui should stand up immediately, and start searching for his friends, for the resentful spirit, for anything.
Lan Sizhui doesn’t. He only stays seated, staring numbly at nothing.
He doesn’t know how long he sits like that, back curving like a shrimp as with every second his body seems to push itself down towards the earth.
He just doesn’t know quite what to do. That’s all.
But then, suddenly, he’s not alone. Then there’s Jin Ling, several paces further away, and blinking like he’s confused.
Slowly, Lan Sizhui lifts his head,
“…Jin Ling,” he says, much too calm, much too dull for someone whose friend just appeared out of thin air.
It doesn’t matter. Sizhui has seen crazier.
Jin Ling, juxtaposing Sizhui’s calm, jerks violently at the sound of his name.
“Wha—!” He exclaims, looking around like a scared deer, before his eyes focus on Sizhui, “Sizhui?”
Sizhui nods.
“Sizhui!” Jin Ling yells, and then he’s rushing over.
The Lan has almost no time to prepare, before Jin Ling latches two arms around his waist and starts sobbing into Sizhui’s stomach.
“Sizhui!” He repeats, still crying his eyes out.
“Jin Ling…”
Sizhui’s arms are lifted up in shock. His eyes widened in awe. Jin Ling has never sought comfort in such a way before.
Usually, he pushes his emotions down, bottles them up, and then lets them burst out in the form of anger. This however…This is new.
Slowly, so as to not startle the other boy, Sizhui lets his arms relax and circle around him. One hand finds the other’s head, and strokes gently just as Wei Wuxian had done for him moments ago.
“Jin Ling.”
The boy’s cries turn harsher at the acknowledgment, a fresh wave of tears no doubt beginning.
“S–Sizhui–” He hiccups back.
And that’s all they need to say to understand. Apparently, Lan Sizhui is realizing at this moment, Jin Ling must have also traveled to the past.
“Who’d you see?” He asks gently, still petting a soothing hand on Jin Ling’s head.
Another sob bursts out of the boy,
“My mom!”
Sizhui closes his eyes.
“She was my mom, Sizhui! She was—”
Jin Ling’s words catch on a stuttering hiccup,
“ She was so nice! ”
Sizhui takes a deep breath through his nose.
“Yea… they always did say she was great.”
Jin Ling’s new sob accompanies the tear that drops from Sizhui’s own eye.
Sizhui’s head tips into a bow, and more tears drip down his face.
He wants to say that Jin Ling is lucky to have met her. Wants to tell him that at least he now has one memory. But Sizhui knows that’s just not true. He had been given the same opportunity after all. And he had deemed it too difficult.
Had thought parting would have been too painful.
Jin Ling is still sobbing just as hard as he was, and it looks like there’s no immediate end in sight.
Sizhui closes his eyes and lets his tears continue to fall as well.
“You’re okay,” he says, still gently patting the other’s back.
They’re gonna be okay.
“You’re gonna be okay.”
__— __——__—__
Lan Wangji doesn’t know why he’s in Caiyi Town.
Well, that’s not technically true. He’s here because Wei Ying asked him to be.
What he doesn’t know is why Wei Ying is in Caiyi Town.
Lan Wangji doesn’t mind, however.
He would go anywhere Wei Ying asked, details unimportant, as long as Wei Ying would be there.
And the man is here. Seated at a table made for only two people, shoved into the deep corner of their pre-arranged meeting place, seemingly trying to keep his head down.
Lan Wangji stands in the doorway feeling off-kilter already.
There’s no food on the table that Wei Wuxian sits at, so Lan Wangji immediately makes to fix that. Flagging down a staff member, he asks for the spiciest dishes only, and only then does he start to make his way towards the man who invited him here.
“Wei Ying,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t give away how much he feels in the mere presence of the other man.
Wei Wuxian looks up, startled at the sound of his name, and blinks a couple of times,
“Lan Zhan,” he breathes, and Lan Wangji crushes any and all feelings that hearing his name from Wei Wuxian’s lips evokes.
Stiltedly, Lan Wangji sits.
“I am here.”
For you, is the end of that sentence that he refuses to finish.
Wei Wuxian looks down seemingly embarrassed,
“Yea,” he says, dragging the last syllable out in a guilty manner, “Sorry to drag you all the way out here, Lan Zhan…”
Lan Zhan shakes his head, feeling frantic,
“No,” he says.
Wei Wuxian looks up.
When they make eye contact, Wei Wuxian tips his head to the side, clearly confused.
Lan Wangji coughs,
“Not far,” he says before he looks away, feeling far too exposed just from saying that.
Wei Wuxian’s mouth tips up at the words, however, so they have apparently done their job.
“Okay,” he says, still smiling that small smile.
And then the worker from earlier clunks five dishes, all bright red, clumsily onto the table,
“Oops! Sorry!” She says a little loudly, “That wasn’t graceful…”
Lan Wangji doesn’t even glance over. His eyes stay watching Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian does look over at her. In fact, he smiles up at her, and Lan Wangji finds he must divert his gaze to prevent openly glaring at the innocent woman.
“Not a problem!” Wei Wuxian says, and then talks to her until she leaves.
Lan Wangji doesn’t hear their conversation, no, Lan Wangji instead burns holes into the table the whole time.
“Lan Zhan!”
When he looks up, the worker is nowhere in sight, and Wei Wuxian’s smile is directed at him now.
It feels like a balm soothing his frayed nerves.
Wei Wuxian is looking at him with something that’s not normally in his eyes. It looks almost calculating, and Lan Wangji has to shove down any urges he feels to start squirming under it.
“You didn’t have to get all of these for little, old me…” He’s saying with that look in his eyes and that small smile still on his lips.
Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to make of it, so instead he dips his head in acknowledgement.
Wei Wuxian laughs brightly, finding amusement in his response somehow,
“Well, I must thank the Second Young Master Lan’s generosity.”
And then the first thing he reaches for with his chopsticks is the spiciest looking pepper which he then ceremoniously places on Lan Wangji’s plate.
Lan Wangji looks up, eyes slightly widened.
“For you,” Wei Wuxian says, eyes closed with the width of his smile, “Only the best for Lan Zhan.”
Lan Wangji thinks about how his tongue had felt like it was going to melt off last time he ate with Wei Wuxian. Thinks that this pepper now looks even spicier than the food from back then.
“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head again and knowing he will treasure the portion Wei Wuxian gave him.
Wei Wuxian’s smile, impossibly, grows bigger,
“No need to thank me, Lan Zhan!” He says brightly, before cheerily moving to make his own plate.
And Lan Wangji can’t help his next words. It’s like they slip out without any notice,
“You seem happy.”
The hand reaching for the food pauses. Similarly, Wei Wuxian’s facial expression has also frozen on his face.
Lan Wangji wants to slit his own throat,
“I mean—“ He starts, hoping to remedy what he has said, but Wei Wuxian cuts him off,
“I seem happy?” Wei Wuxian drops his hand to think for a moment, and then mumbles “I suppose I am, aren’t I?”
Lan Wangji swallows back words, and waits to let Wei Wuxian speak for himself before his own interjections.
“It must be because I’m with you.”
When he says it, he looks up and meets Lan Wangji’s eyes. He looks almost surprised at the conclusion he has landed on.
Lan Wangji does his best to remain absolutely still.
It must be because I’m with you , echoes around his head like a ball ricocheting in his skull.
And then, apparently realizing what he had just said, Wei Wuxian flushes a bright red and panics.
“Uh—!” He stutters loudly, “I mean, uhh—“
Lan Wangji remains alarmingly still throughout. It is a defense mechanism against expressing the shock that he feels.
Until this moment, he had thought the only emotion he brought Wei Wuxian was discomfort.
“I mean!” Wei Wuxian is shouting still, but with seemingly no words in mind, “I meant it must be the reason I came to see you! That’s what’s making me happy!”
Lan Wangji continues to stare silently, and Wei Wuxian continues to flounder,
“Just a second, Lan Zhan! Let me get this out of my bag.”
And then he’s diving towards the floor where a sack that Lan Wangji had previously not noticed sits.
He pulls the bag up so that it sits in his lap, and then suddenly with exceeding care, Wei Wuxian starts to pull out what looks like a white cloth.
Setting the bag back on the ground, Wei Wuxian cradles what appears to be a Lan’s outer robe.
Lan Wangji feels his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Once again, words slip out unbidden,
“Did I give you that the last time I saw you?”
He certainly doesn’t remember doing an act so forward, but Lan Wangji can admit that Wei Wuxian provokes him to do the strangest things he never imagined doing.
For some reason, his question makes Wei Wuxian throw his head back with a laugh,
“No, Lan Zhan,” he’s saying between laughs, and Lan Wangji feels his ears heat up. Had he just inadvertently confessed that he would have given Wei Wuxian his outer robe if only he had the opportunity to do so?
“So, then…” Lan Wangji says valiantly over the other’s laughter, “Where…?”
Genuinely, Lan Wangji has no idea how Wei Wuxian could have gotten his hands on a Lan’s outer robe.
Perhaps some rogue disciple had gone to the Burial Mounds? An assassination attempt perhaps?
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji starts again, feeling more anxious this time.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian laughs, “You’re not gonna believe where I got it.”
Lan Wangji’s eyebrows furrow again. What could be so unbelievable?
“But it’s my only proof for my next question, so… bare with me, okay?”
Lan Wangji nods firmly. Confused or not, he will fulfill any request of Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian searches his face with his eyes, looking for who only knows what.
Lan Wangji waits patiently.
“What, um,” Wei Wuxian taps an anxious finger against the table, “What do you think about my Demonic Cultivation?”
Lan Wangji tilts his head a minuscule amount to the side. He opens his mouth, but Wei Wuxian rushes to speak first,
“Or I guess, I know you hate it. I’m supposed to ask, uhm, why do you hate it?”
Lan Wangji blinks.
Hate?
He hates Demonic Cultivation?
Perhaps, he does. But Wei Ying’s Demonic Cultivation?
Lan Wangji opens his mouth again, and very genuinely, he’s not sure what is about to come out,
“Because,”
Wei Wuxian is looking at him. He’s pretending he’s too interested in the food in front of him, but he’s looking at Lan Wangji.
Intensely.
Because it is harmful.
“Because it harms you,” Lan Wangji says instead, thinking something closer to the truth will be a better response.
Wei Wuxian inhales sharply, but now that he’s admitted it, Lan Wangji cannot stop,
“I cannot stand to see you hurt. I fear Demonic Cultivation will cause your mind, body, and spirit harm.”
And that’s more than he probably should have said, but Wei Wuxian had asked why . Anything Wei Wuxian asks, he shall have.
The red noodles currently in Wei Wuxian’s hold drop unceremoniously back into his bowl.
Lan Wangji stares unblinkingly.
It will be fine. It is not as if he had confessed his undying love.
It is normal to be concerned for a friend’s well-being. Lan Wangji has not given his deeper feelings away. There is no way.
So, Lan Wangji feels at ease despite his confession.
That is until Wei Wuxian’s next words.
“Lan Zhan, be honest, do you want to marry me?”
Lan Wangji, for the first time since his younger years, gracelessly chokes on his own spit.
“Wei Ying!”
He feels more flustered than he has ever felt in his whole life.
Do you want to marry me? Is the new mantra spinning around his head, and effectively replacing the old one.
Wei Wuxian only dissolves into bright laughter,
“Wait, Lan Zhan, let me explain, yea?”
Lan Wangji immediately snaps his mouth shut.
If Wei Wuxian wants to explain, then Lan Wangji will listen.
Anything Wei Wuxian wants, Lan Wangji will give him.
No matter what.
“So, recently I met this boy…”
Lan Wangji nods. He doesn’t understand how that could be relevant right now, how that could lead to proposing marriage, but he keeps his mouth sealed shut.
Wei Wuxian looks at him, a smile in his eyes,
“This boy was from the future and he gave me this Lan robe. He also told me a lot of helpful information…”
Lan Wangji swallows, uncertain if he should be believing what Wei Wuxian is saying, but at the same time also hanging on to every word the other says.
“Would you like to hear what he told me about you?”
__—__——__—__
“Did you hear? Apparently, the Jin’s new Sect Leader is ordering mass renovations.”
“Really? Huh, I guess Jins never change then. He’s just like every Sect Leader before him.”
“That’s the thing, he’s not re-doing any of the halls…”
“His own chambers, then?”
The gossiper shakes a frantic head from side to side.
“Perhaps the welcome gate?”
“All wrong! You all are never gonna guess what he’s renovating.”
“Will you just tell us already?”
Other cries of curiosity fill the air, and it isn’t until they’ve all calmed down that the original gossiper can finally give an answer—
“It’s the kitchens.”
A noise of surprise ripples through the crowd.
“And next it will be his servants' quarters.
“I heard he stormed into a meeting with his advisors, and immediately started demanding that renovations start that second.”
“Really?”
“He said it was a long overdue oversight, and that their staff has been deserving of larger spaces for over 20 years now…”
Mutters of approval go up around the crowd.
“Well,” someone speaks up, not having expected that.
A few chuckles of agreement follow the person’s statement.
“Good for him then.”
__—__—__—
Returning to the future for Ouyang Zizhen had not been a very big deal.
He hadn’t left anybody behind, not had he really learned a lot of new information.
Oh, he had given a lot of information, and he had had a good time. But leaving? Leaving didn’t really take a toll on him.
Ouyang Zizhen knows that the same cannot be said for his friend, Jin Ling.
Zizhen had been the third person to arrive back to their present timeline, and he had arrived back to the sight of Jin Ling openly sobbing into Lan Sizhui’s arms. Over their youngest friend’s head, Zizhen had made eye contact with Sizhui who also had tears streaming down his face.
Upon eye contact, the other boy only tipped his head down solemnly.
Ouyang Zizhen then stood silently, and waited for their friend to cry it all out. Tipped his own head downwards, and let a few tears drip to the forest floor as well.
The sound of Jin Ling’s gut-wrenching sobs was the only thing penetrating the silence. It was also what greeted Lan Jingyi when he finally appeared on the scene.
It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out what had upset Jin Ling.
Standing there, knowing Jin Ling had met his mother, had given her the name Zizhen, and had then left only to have his cover blown by Ouyang Zizhen’s mere existence… well.
The guilt ate him alive.
The guilt ate him all the way until several weeks later. Weeks after Wei-qianbei had explained to them that he and Hanguang-jun had defeated the original spirit for them. Weeks after Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had opened up about their own experience in the past. For weeks, this guilt continued to eat at Ouyang Zizhen.
It is the reason he hasn’t yet told anyone what he had done in the past—Who he had met or what they had said.
Jin Ling also hasn’t divulged that information. The wound must still be too raw for him to go poking at it.
No one has pushed either of them to start talking.
In fact, when Lan Jingyi had shared his story immediately after Lan Sizhui shared his, Wei-qianbei had turned an expectant eye onto Zizhen next. But when all he did was give a small head shake, everyone moved on with grace.
No one had pressed him for more information since.
And the guilt in his stomach surges every time he thinks about it.
So now, Ouyang Zizhen finds himself at the only place that can absolve him of this. He stands at the entrance to Koi Tower.
The people at the gate open the door for him despite him not having announced his visit ahead of time. It would seem that Jin Ling has given Ouyang Zizhen explicit permission to come to Koi Tower unannounced at any time.
This simultaneously fills him up with warmth and makes the guilt turn over in his gut. It is with his stomach tying itself into knots that he walks across the threshold into Jin Ling’s home.
Jin Ling meets him in the greeting room, his servants no doubt having alerted him of his arrival.
His arms are crossed, and there’s confusion in his eyebrows, but his mouth is smiling when he says,
“Zizhen? What are you doing here, huh?”
Ouyang Zizhen feels his mouth smile even though his limbs feel like lead,
“Jin Ling,” he says, hoping the nervousness hasn’t found its way into his voice.
If he notices it, Jin Ling doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he turns and motions a hand for Zizhen to follow,
“Here, come with me. It’s too early for dinner, but we can go have some tea.”
Ouyang Zizhen follows, feeling like a lost puppy following its owner.
He doesn’t come to Koi Tower very often, and when he does, Jin Ling keeps him in the same general area. Quickly, however, Zizhen realizes that they are diverging from that standard today.
Falling into step with Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen finds himself walking in halls and corridors he has never once been privy to.
“Where are we going?”
Jin Ling looks over, and there’s something in his eyes that feels… melancholic?
“Somewhere I’ve found myself appreciating lately.”
And then he elaborates no further.
Ouyang Zizhen’s instinct would be to push for more information, however that seems like it would be a bad idea right now.
So, he doesn’t.
Instead, he just allows himself to be led.
When they do finally make it to their destination, it’s the kitchen that Jin Ling has chosen to take him to.
“…I thought you said we were gonna have tea?”
In his mind, Ouyang Zizhen had pictured a breezy pavilion that the two of them could sit at and drink their tea. Or perhaps even just a cozy little room.
The kitchen is the last place he had expected to be taken to.
Jin Ling, however, is already reaching for the tea kettle sitting over the fire stove,
“Yes?” He says looking back at Zizhen with furrowed brows.
“You’re gonna make the tea?”
“Of course,” Jin Ling scoffs, as if this is only to be expected, “I know how to cook.”
It takes everything within Ouyang Zizhen to resist pointing out that making tea is definitely not cooking.
“Okay,” he says instead, and then takes a seat at the countertop.
So, Jin Ling starts to make the tea.
He’s very cautious about all of it. Takes his time carefully measuring out all the water, all the tea leaves, and then he mixes them very meticulously.
When he carries the pot over to the stove, it is as if he believes that the water sloshing will ruin the tea. To prevent this, he walks at a snail’s
very careful pace.
Ouyang Zizhen sits and watches his friend, thoroughly confused.
“So, you like hanging out in the kitchen? I didn’t know that.”
Jin Ling never once takes his eyes off of the tea kettle that he’s now ever so carefully placing on the stove,
“Yes.”
Ouyang Zizhen purses his lips and nods. He had wanted more details but, you know, he’ll take what he can get.
“I’m renovating it soon.”
Ouyang Zizhen cuts a glance over at his friend,
“Yea?” He pushes a little.
“It needs to be bigger.”
Ouyang Zizhen still feels immensely confused. All of this is nowhere near normal behavior for Jin Ling, but before he can open his mouth, Jin Ling is continuing,
“It needs to be bigger, but I like this version of the kitchen, too, so, I’m trying to spend a lot of time here before it gets changed.”
“How long until the renovations start?”
“Two more weeks.”
Ouyang Zizhen lets out a low whistle,
“That‘s pretty fast.”
As a Sect Heir, he is more than aware about how much time change requires. Particularly, change that takes a lot of man power such as renovations.
Finally, taking his attention off of the tea kettle, Jin Ling turns and says,
“Yea, well, it needs to be done as soon as possible.”
And then, the two of them fall into silence.
Jin Ling refuses to move away from the stove now that he’s tending to the tea. Ouyang Zizhen continues to sit awkwardly at the counter top.
Eventually, Jin Ling does finish the tea in silence.
Everything he does to prepare it is done with just as much caution as he had used while making it.
“…”
A teacup is placed in front of Zizhen’s hands. Placed there by his friend who had so painstakingly made it for him.
And Ouyang Zizhen simply cannot withstand the guilt any further.
Before Jin Ling can even sit down, Zizhen is opening his mouth and spilling,
“I accidentally blew your cover!”
After the words are blurted out, he can feel his shoulders actually slump with the relief of having let it out.
Jin Ling looks startled at the sudden confession. The stool he had been pulling out is now stopped halfway from completing the action.
The only thing that is audible in that moment is Zizhen’s slightly heavier than normal breathing.
“Okay…” Jin Ling says hesitantly, before resuming pulling out the stool.
Lightly, he sits down in it, “What are you talking about?”
Now that they’re seated across from each other, Ouyang Zizhen can look his friend directly in the eye for the first time since arriving.
His gut still churns, but confession has lessened the tidal wave, so Zizhen musters the strength to continue,
“When we were all stuck in the past, I accidentally blew your cover.”
At the mention of the past, Jin Ling’s eyes widen.
It is something the two of them have refused to speak on for the past couple weeks, and this is probably the first time someone has directly brought it up to Jin Ling.
“…What did you do?” The other asks, still confused, but not openly refusing to talk about the past.
Ouyang Zizhen supposes that’s a good sign that he can continue,
“I met your mom—”
Jin Ling inhales sharply.
“—and I know you met her, too. I know you used my name as a fake name. I know you didn’t tell her who you were, and-and-and I gave her my name without even thinking! And so, she definitely… uhm, maybe, for sure knew who you were.”
Ouyang Zizhen had promised himself he wouldn’t cry during his confession, so now that he feels tears forming, his only solution is to throw his hands over his eyes to make them stop.
“I’m so sorry, Jin Ling.”
Because his hands are over his eyes, it is impossible to see his friend’s reaction to the news.
It somehow makes the silence both unbearable and better.
Finally, finally , Jin Ling whispers quietly,
“…She knew who I was?”
Still trying to hold back tears, Zizhen nods shakily.
“Was,” Jin Ling pauses, and Zizhen can’t see, but it sounds pained, “Was she surprised?”
Ouyang Zizhen remembers the way Wei Wuxian had collapsed into laughter just at the mention of the name ‘Zizhen.’
Also, more importantly, he remembers the way Jin Ling’s mom had approached him. Had first made him lift his sad gaze off of the ground before saying, I feel like a part of me knew from the moment I met him.
“No,” Ouyang Zizhen lowers his hands, and looks down at the table, “No, she said she already knew.”
He’s still looking down at the table when he hears the first sob.
Alarmed, Zizhen snaps his head up.
Jin Ling, seated across from him still, now has his hand covering both of his eyes,
“ She knew? ”
Ouyang Zizhen’s alarm turns into a sad sense of understanding,
“Yea, she and, uh, Wei Wuxian both already knew.”
Jin Ling lets out another sob, and ever so lightly, Zizhen reaches out a hand. Places it over the hand Jin Ling has resting on the table between them.
“She knew that whole time, and she— she still said all of those things? ”
Zizhen doesn’t quite know what Jiang Yanli was saying to Jin Ling, but he’s sure he could make an educated guess at this point.
“Yea,” Zizhen says softly, patting Jin Ling’s hand, “She really does love you, huh?”
Jin Ling drops his head into his arms and lets his shoulders shake with his sobs.
Ouyang Zizhen finds he is also crying, but it’s true—From everything he heard from the woman herself, Jiang Yanli really did love her son.
She always has, always will.
The only thing that’s different is that her son knows it now, too.
__—__—__—__—
Nie Huaisang doesn’t know why Sect Leader Jiang is requesting his presence at Lotus Pier.
Nobody ever requests his presence anywhere.
He wasn’t exactly useful during the war, and honestly he’s not exactly useful right now. Instead, he lives in a shadow that belongs to his older brother.
His older brother takes all the hits for him, does all the work for him, and lets Huaisang live the artistic life of his dreams.
It’s perfectly ideal.
Nobody calls on him during moments of crises. Nobody expects him to be able to offer aid. And nobody summons his presence with the authority of a Sect Leader.
The only reason that Huaisang can think of for why Sect Leader Jiang might be requesting his presence would be perhaps to catch up for old times sake. Or maybe even in an effort to stage an intervention for their friend, Wei Wuxian’s, new cultivation style.
Besides those two reasons, Huaisang can think of no other explanation.
Because of this, he has planned accordingly.
He has packed art supplies, alcohol, extra fans, and even his one and only fishing pole that he has never used.
When he arrives, it becomes abundantly clear that he had the wrong impression of the stay’s plans.
Jiang Cheng is there, of course, but so is Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian.
Walking into the welcoming hall and seeing all of their faces, well, Nie Huaisang desperately tries to keep the disappointment off of his face.
“Sect Leader Jiang,” He decides to address first. Dropping into one of his most formal bows, “This one is here replying to your summons. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Jiang Cheng scoffs. Loudly.
“Stop it, Nie-xiong. No formalities.”
Nie Huaisang rises, a bright grin on his face,
“And even Wei-xiong is here! This truly must be a special occasion.”
Wei Wuxian, to his credit, laughs brightly and says,
“Is the announcement of my engagement not special enough?”
Nie Huaisang feels his eyebrows leap upwards.
Perhaps the alcohol would still be in theme for his stay here.
“Engagement? To whom?”
He lets his eyes roam across everyone in the room, and sees if he can pick an obvious candidate. There’s no immediate answer.
“It can’t be that you intend to marry Wen-guniang?”
Wen Qing herself scoffs at the idea.
“What? No! Nie-xiong ,” and when Wei Wuxian says his name it’s almost like a playful reprimand. As if he should know already who it might be.
“To Lan Zhan of course!”
Nie Huaisang feels his eyebrows tick up another few inches,
“To Hanguang-jun?” He asks in Lan Wangji’s direction. Needing confirmation that this isn’t a weird joke.
“Mm,” is the only response.
“Nie-gongzi,” Jin Zixuan is now speaking up for the first time. The difference between how he calls him and how the others had is stark,
“Perhaps we should talk more in a private area.”
Nie Huaisang looks at him.
“We have much to discuss with you.”
——____———___——
Lan Jingyi, once again, finds himself in the Burial Mounds.
This, plus the first time, plus the recent trip to the past, makes his total trips up the Burial Mounds three whole times.
Something that hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind the first two times, but is definitely there now, is that actually the hike up is kind of exhausting.
It’s steep and littered with bones you have to avoid. Not to mention the time it actually takes to reach the summit. Any other day, Lan Jingyi would have flown to the top on his sword.
But today… Well, today he wants to do things the proper way.
And so, huffing and puffing, Lan Jingyi slowly makes his way up the Burial Mounds. The hard way.
He is alone this time, that is also something he’s never done before.
Not even Wei-qianbei accompanies him now. Not even Sizhui.
Lan Jingyi is not particularly used to being alone. It’s been quite a while since he has been. Most night hunts he has his friends, and Cloud Recesses is never lacking in people.
The silence now gives him moments to reflect.
Almost like meditating, but with physical exercise involved as well.
The mountain continues to be silent even when he makes it to the old Burial Mounds settlement near the top. The only noise breaking the silence is Jingyi’s intense breathing.
“Wow,” he breathes, running out of air, “the Wens were strong for making that hike.”
And then he thinks of Wei Wuxian who also made that climb without a golden core, and he adds on,
“Wei-qianbei, too, I suppose.”
Nobody answers him.
Huffing a few more times, Lan Jingyi takes a moment to look around with his hands raised over his head to promote better breathing.
It looks exactly the same as when he had left it weeks ago.
In fact, it is hard to tell if he is just placing things where he thinks they should be, but that burnt out fire pit looks an awful lot like the very one he had gathered around with the Wens.
Lan Jingyi turns again, and sees the Demon Slaughtering Cave to his right.
Exactly where it was the first two times he was here.
Breathing returned to normal now, Lan Jingyi pauses only a little before making his way over to the cave. When he crosses the threshold, it’s almost as if he can feel the energy shift.
It’s a little spooky.
The blood pool is still there, looking just as it did last time. Wei Wuxian’s stuff, looted through from the first siege of the Burial Mounds, remains just as pitiful as it was before.
The only new addition is what rests right next to the blood pool.
A shrine, a pale imitation of the ancestral shrines in the homes of the Great Sects, now stands tall. The only new addition to the Burial Mounds for over 20 years.
On it rests plates for each Wen that resided here. Each one that was killed here. Each one that was tossed into the blood pool here.
Lan Jingyi's breath catches a little in his throat.
“Hi,” he whispers without having meant to.
It is outstanding the amount of effort Lan Sizhui, Wen Ning, and Wei Wuxian had been able to put into this shrine.
Surrounding the altar are candles clearly made from one of the highest of craftsmen. Each plate lacks even a speck of dust.
It is a simple shrine, yes, but it still punches Jingyi in the gut a little bit to see.
“I brought you guys something as a thank you for, well, hosting me.”
Lan Jingyi reaches into the bag he had carried on his shoulder all the way here. From it, he pulls some oranges and apples, along with a jar of Emperor’s Smile.
“I know it’s a little late for this thank you, but…”
Gently, Jingyi places the fruit onto the offering plate that was so very clearly stolen from the Gusu Lan kitchens.
“Lans don’t drink, but Wei-qianbei really liked this alcohol. I thought maybe you guys would like it, too.”
The next thing he pulls out is the incense he had brought with him.
Silently, he lights first all of the candles surrounding the shrine, before also lighting his own incense.
Holding it in his hands, he bows three times. As low and as respectful as he can. Only then does he place the incense in the holder.
By the end of the process, Jingyi can feel his throat is a little tight.
“I—“
He starts, but breaks off.
Taking a deep breath, Jingyi struggles through continuing,
“I think you guys must have been really cool.”
Jingyi looks up towards the ceiling,
“I didn’t even get to meet all of you, but you all accepted me into your home. Gave me your food. Let me dote on your A-Yuan.
“I just—“
Lan Jingyi doesn’t know what he wants to say, but lets his mouth run as he usually does,
“—I am just really grateful to you all. It sucks that you guys had to die.”
And then because he can hear Wen Qing reprimanding him in his mind, Lan Jingyi amends his statement,
“I guess what I mean is, I wish you were still here. I’m sorry you all had such a rotten ending.
“You didn’t deserve that.”
Jingyi drops his head.
They hadn’t deserved the ending that they got.
Lan Jingyi’s throat becomes too tight to keep talking, so instead he falls silent.
It’s okay, however. He’s said everything he came here to say.
So, on his knees, head bowed still, Lan Jingyi stays there until the incense sticks burn out.
When they do, he silently stands and collects himself. Then he reaches into his bag and pulls out one more thing.
It’s a drum rattle that Sizhui had given to him when they were kids.
“I, uhm, know Sizhui visits you guys a lot, but I wanted to also give you this piece of him.”
Jingyi swallows hard,
“You never got to see him graduate from the paper butterfly phase into the drum rattle phase, so…”
“I just thought maybe you guys would like it.”
And then, bowing lowly one more time, Lan Jingyi prepares to leave.
When he stands up straight, he’s still feeling sad, but he puts on a fake smile for the Wens,
“Next time I come back, I’ll bring you something else of Sizhui’s, okay?”
There’s no response, but Jingyi feels his smile turn a little more real.
“I’ll see you soon!”
And then, heavy-heartedly, he’s leaving the cave. Waving vigorously behind him as he goes.
__-__-__-__
When Jin Zixuan had said they had a lot to discuss with him, he had not been joking.
Nie Huaisang realizes that now.
The story they recounted was fantastical, completely unbelievable, and yet…
“Oh wow…” He says out loud.
Jin Zixuan had been the one to recount the story of their potential future. Both because of his ability to stay on topic, and also because he had been the one to actually be given the information.
“And they told you to come find me ?”
Jin Zixuan nods, but Wei Wuxian pipes up,
“Yes, but why would they do that, Nie-xiong ?”
The way he says it, it feels like an interrogation. So, Nie Huaisang does what he does best.
He puts on a show.
Clumsily, he lets his legs give out so that he can fall to the floor dramatically.
Jiang Yanli, ever caring, rushes forward to check his forehead. “Nie-gongzi!” She cries as she kneels down next to him.
Pretending as if he is too zoned out to notice her, Nie Huaisang prepares to start wailing,
“I don’t know…” He says distraught, while shaking his head back and forth, “I really don’t know why they would want me to know!”
Wei Wuxian lifts a brow, but the others look only annoyed with him. Jiang Cheng even has the nerve to burst out an impassioned, “Useless!”
Nie Huaisang snaps a fan open. Looking delicately around, he flutters it so as to appear flustered.
“Well,” Wei Wuxian claps his hands together, “he says he doesn’t know!”
Everyone in the room looks over at him as if he has grown another head.
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng growls, “Does your nonchalant attitude seem funny right now?”
“What? I’m just saying the man doesn’t know?”
And then Wei Wuxian rounds on Nie Huaisang so fast that it makes a rabbit look slow,
“So, I’ll ask a different question. What do you think of my engagement news?”
Nie Huaisang blinks up at the other from his position on the floor still. Wei Wuxian grins brightly down at him.
“A-Xian…” Jiang Yanli is saying, still kneeling beside him, but she goes ignored.
“Your engagement?” Nie Huaisang says confused.
“Mm, mm! What do you think about it?”
Wei Wuxian opens his eyes now to meet Nie Huaisang’s dead on.
The smile is still on his face, but not in his eyes.
Wei Wuxian means business .
Nie Huaisang swallows hard.
Wei Wuxian has always known him. Has known him at the Cloud Recesses, and at Lotus Pier. In youth, and in war.
Wei Wuxian knows exactly what Nie Huaisang is capable of, and he knows that Huaisang knows this too—
—If the kids from the future had told them all to find him, it is clear then that Huaisang is some kind of turning stone in their favor.
And the only skill he has is lying. Playing the game, and trapping others.
Wei Wuxian knows all of this, and so Huaisang does his old friend the dignity of actually thinking about what his question means.
What do you think of my engagement news?
Him asking that means that their motivation behind marriage is not simply love.
It’s a move. A piece moved across the board.
The Yiling Patriarch marries the Second Jade of Lan, and suddenly he is untouchable.
The Wens he is working so hard to protect will be then taken under the Gusu Lan’s wing through a marriage contract. If it were any other sect, the move would seem political. Strategic. Snake-like. But this is Gusu Lan.
This is the Second Jade of Lan.
The world will see it as the taming of a beast. And the only person they trust to do it would be a Lan.
The Wens will be revealed by Gusu Lan as only innocent bystanders to a war they did not participate in. Jin Guangyao and his father will be
exposed for having lied to all the other sects. The odds that they are able to play it off are high, but still.
Scrutiny is scrutiny.
The Jin’s plan that was so thoroughly laid out by the children from the future will be completely ruined in one fell swoop.
What does Nie Huaisang think of their marriage?
“Why, Wei-xiong, I-I really don’t know. I think if you think you’re making the right choice in Hanguang-jun, then I support you. But really, I’m no matchmaker, I truly don’t know.”
He thinks their marriage is one of the best moves they can make.
It should incapacitate the Jin completely and utterly, but just in case it doesn’t, just in case Jin Guangyao once again does tries to kill his brother, Nie Huaisang will be ready.
Already, Nie Huaisang is thinking of ways to break their sworn brotherhood.
He’s got three ideas for starters.
With this kind of advanced notice, how could Huaisang possibly lose?
No, he refuses to let the events described to him come to pass.
He simply will not allow it.
Wei Wuxian’s smile grows.
“If my old pal Nie-xiong thinks it’s a good idea, then it must be!” He’s saying, all false cheer and happy clapping.
Before he stands, however, Wei Wuxian looks Nie Huaisang in the eye one more time.
The smile on his face is smaller now, more genuine.
Nie Huaisang has no idea what the other might say, but he braces himself for anything.
“Thank you, Nie-xiong,” he says intently, “Your guidance is much appreciated.”
The breath Huaisang had been holding releases itself slowly,
“Of course, Wei-xiong,” he says.
You know I could never let my brother die.
“Anything for an old friend.”
-__-__-__-__-
Jin Ling has been working in the kitchen all day long.
From the moment he woke up, to now, late afternoon, Jin Ling has been working in the kitchen.
For more clarity, he has been working on only one meal in particular.
It has taken him three months after the time traveling event to work up the courage to make what he’s decided to make today.
To make a recipe lost to the cruelties of war.
In those three months of courage building, Jin Ling has been working on his cooking skills. Everytime he uses a knife, everytime he slices a carrot, he feels inexplicably closer to her. To Jiang Yanli.
To his mother.
He can still hear her words of encouragement ringing in his ears when he successfully finishes a task in the kitchen.
Any mother would be proud to have a son like you.
Knowing now that she knew it was him the whole time makes the warm feeling in his stomach glow just a little bit brighter.
Makes him want to be a son deserving of such compliments.
Now, big renovations and three months later, Jin Ling finally feels confident enough to replicate the soup he had personally been taught how to make by his own mother.
A soup that no one has been able to replicate since she died.
To this day, Jin Ling has still not openly told anyone what happened to him while he was in the past. Ouyang Zizhen probably caught a little of it from the time he had confessed to blowing Jin Ling’s cover. But even then, Jin Ling had not divulged much.
Today, he feels ready.
Ready to make this soup. Ready to share some stories.
So, he invited his two Uncles over today.
Both agreed to come, but neither knows of the other’s invite. Jin Ling knows that if they did, they might both have bailed.
Is it a lie if it has good intentions? Who knows.
It is with this in mind that he walks into the pavilion overlooking the lotus pond his father had planted for his mother.
Seated in two seats very far away from each other are his two uncles.
Surprisingly, they are actually talking.
“So,” Wei Wuxian is speaking up, “we found out that Lan Sizhui was the initial person to inhale the resentful energy, right?”
Wei Wuxian is nervously tapping his foot against the wooden floor. He also is speaking at a rate so fast that it could only speak to inherent nerves.
Jiang Cheng is perhaps the opposite. He sits as still as a statue, eyes only moving to cut judgemental side eyes over at the other man in the pavilion.
Nevertheless, he grunts to show acknowledgment of Wei Wuxian’s statement.
“Well, the spirit had never sent multiple people at once to the past. Only one person at a time for this spirit.
“And because inhaling the resentful spirit was supposed to send you to the past to meet people significant to you , the spirit ended up sending all four of them to people that were significant to Sizhui . Does that make sense?”
“No.”
Wei Wuxian’s foot stops tapping, and a flash of hurt flies across his face,
“I—“
“What does significant mean? How are Jin Zixuan and-and—“ Jiang Cheng cuts himself off to glare furiously at the ground.
Jin Ling frowns.
Still, his Jiujiu cannot utter his mom’s name.
Deciding that enough is enough, Jin Ling steps into the pavilion and loudly declares his presence,
“Because they’re family to Sizhui, of course. His Aunt and his Uncle.”
And as he says it, he strides confidently over to the table onto which he lightly places the tray he brought with him.
Wei Wuxian blinks at him in surprise,
“A-Ling…” he breathes, and Jin Ling scoffs.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Jin Ling,” Jiang Cheng says, anger in his voice trying desperately to veil the surprise.
Jin Ling ignores that, too, and instead turns his nose up to talk down to both of them,
“Look at you two, always fighting. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
He crosses his arms a little haughtily—he can admit that—but neither of his Uncle’s call him on it.
“Now, I suppose you’re both wondering why I brought you here today.”
“Well—“
Jin Ling cuts Wei Wuxian off,
“Well, you’re gonna find out. Here.”
And then a little aggressively, Jin Ling sits and starts to reach for the tray he had put down earlier.
He unscrews the lid off the container of soup, before unceremoniously placing a bowl in front of each Uncle.
Both of them blink in surprise, but otherwise stay silent.
Taking a deep breath, Jin Ling ladles the first portion out into Jiang Cheng’s bowl.
A shaky gasp is taken from both men.
“Jin Ling—“
“Shut up,” he says lightly, “Shut up, and eat the soup.”
Once two portions are doled out to the two men, Jin Ling sits back into his chair.
“Well?” He questions when he sees neither has moved an inch, “Aren’t you going to try it?”
Wei Wuxian has tears in his eyes already, and he hasn’t even tried the soup yet,
“Jin Ling… How…? ”
Jin Ling looks away, feeling his cheeks burn from the attention,
“You don’t even know if it’s good yet. Try it.” He demands for the third time now.
Really, it’s like working with idiots with these two.
Jiang Cheng tries it first. Had already put a spoonful into his mouth while Wei Wuxian had been trying to get answers out of Jin Ling.
The other two realize he’s already tried it when they hear a punched out sound come from his direction.
Looking over at him, he has placed a hand over his mouth, and his eyes are closed.
Jin Ling feels his armpits start to sweat a little,
“Jiujiu?” He asks, “Was it not right?”
Jiang Cheng only shakes his head violently, but doesn’t remove the hand from his mouth or open his eyes.
His face looks pained.
“Wait, Da-jiu, you don’t have to—-“
Jin Ling turns frantically towards Wei Wuxian, but finds that number 1. The man has already tried the soup, and number 2. There are two tear tracks streaming down both his cheeks.
“Da-jiu!” He cries, a little alarmed.
“Jin Ling,” He says back through a watery smile,
“How did you possibly make this?”
Jin Ling feels his panic grow even more,
“What? What’s wrong?” He demands, feeling defensive, “It’s not good, is it!”
Wei Wuxian laughs and this causes more tears to drip down his face,
“Oh, A-Ling…”
“It’s perfect,” Jiang Cheng finally speaks up.
His hand is still covering his mouth, but now it looks more like an attempt to hold back tears rather than vomit.
“It’s absolutely perfect, A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian says, somehow both crying and laughing.
“Oh.”
It’s perfect, apparently.
Jin Ling feels the desperate feeling in his stomach settle into something calmer.
“Oh,” he repeats, this time lighter.
It’s perfect.
He made his mother’s soup to perfection. He learned something from his mother.
A smile spreads across his face,
“Well, that’s good to know.”
Wei Wuxian lets out a sound that sounds both like a sob and a laugh,
“You gonna explain this to us, kid? Or is this just gonna have to be another mystery in our lives?”
Jiang Cheng scoffs, but honestly, Jin Ling thinks it sounds more like a laugh.
It’s something.
Jin Ling relaxes back into his chair and takes a deep breath.
He feels ready to talk about her.
“She taught me herself.”
Nobody speaks, and nobody moves a muscle. It’s like the whole world is hanging on to Jin Ling’s next words,
“My mom did. My mom taught me how to make this soup three months ago.”