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Lan Xichen had been having a peaceful day when the missive had come. Cloud Recesses was nearly rebuilt, just over a year since it had burned, and he had nearly reached the point of no longer feeling as though the floor was dropping out from under him whenever someone mentioned the Sect Leader and he realized they were talking about him and not his father. He no longer felt the need to reach out to his uncle over every decision, trusting himself more and more with the governance of his clan. He no longer feared looking over his shoulder and not finding his brother by his side.
He was healing, his clan was healing, and a walk around Cloud Recesses felt more like the peaceful strolls he had done as a child and less like a funeral march through a graveyard.
Of course, that was when the message came, bearing the insignia of the Yunmeng Jiang.
The Yunmeng Jiang was the only other major sect, aside from the Lan, who had suffered significantly from the war, barring the glaring exception of the Wen. They had narrowly missed complete annihilation when the Wen had come seeking the right hand of their First Disciple; they would have completely been annihilated had Jiang Fengmian not arrived early enough to sound the alarm about the approaching Wen. That they had only lost Jiang Fengmian, Yu Ziyuan, and nearly all the senior disciples when Lotus Pier had been nearly miraculous, awful as that was. That Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian had brought the sect from the break of destruction to wielding enough power to successfully lobby a pardon for the surviving Wen contingent was actually miraculous.
Lan Xichen admired his fellow sect leader; he was his junior in cultivation and age by several years but they had become sect leaders nearly simultaneously. Lan Xichen had marveled at the strength shown by his younger counterpart throughout the war – had marveled at his ability to swallow his pride to work with Wangji in those early months when Wei Wuxian had been missing and Lan Xichen himself in hiding. Had marveled at his unwavering support of his martial brother, both when Wei Wuxian had been running himself ragged throughout the war, carving a one-man path of destruction throughout the Wen army and after, when the rumors had begun swirling against him, turning the miraculous abilities he’d used to win them the war into demonic powers that would doom them all.
He'd marveled at the other man’s unflinching defense of his brother even when Wei Wuxian had threatened to break away from the cultivation world with the Wen remnants, at his unwavering support of his brother and steadfast refusal to blot Wei Wuxian’s name from the Jiang Sect ledgers and turn his brother over to the Jin. At the begrudging but faithful forgiveness he had shown the Wens, welcoming them to Lotus Pier and offering a home in exchange for his brother to remain at his side. He had marveled, too, at the fierce support he had shown Wei Wuxian when the other man’s seclusion had been announced, merely a month into the integration of the surviving Wen and Jiang sects. At his steadfast refusal to tell anyone where he had gone, not even Wangji who had looked every day he could for the past six months.
He respected Jiang Wanyin, more so than he did any other Sect Leader, except Chifeng-Zun, and so when he had received the message demanding his and Wangji’s presence at Lotus Pier for an undisclosed, urgent matter, he did not think twice of immediately abandoning his peaceful walk to begin preparations for the trip. He hadn’t even thought to question why the Jiang sect would request the presence of the Lan Sect Leader and heir over that of the Jin, to whom their alliance had been sealed with a marriage, and they had left just half an incense time after the morning bell the day after the message had arrived.
Had he known, what strange and unique horrors awaited him at Lotus Pier, he would have thought twice about a lot of things.
By sword flight, the distance between Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier was a full day, and the Lan arrived just before the Jiang dinner bell. Lan Xichen was mildly surprised to see that there was no contingent to greet them; had it been anyone else, he would have considered it an intentional insult but the Jiang led by Jiang Wanyin were less beholden to all the intricacies of proper manners and it was likely just an oversight of the time.
Judging from the disapproval narrowing his brother’s eyes, Wangji was less certain of the accidental nature of the slight. But perhaps that was just his normal dislike of Jiang Wanyin showing through his quiet demeanor. Strange friends he may have been with Wei Wuxian, there was no love lost between his brother and the Jiang Sect Leader regardless of their history.
Before Lan Xichen could take a moment to nettle his bother – so rarely did Wangji feel strongly enough about someone for it to show on his face, Lan Xichen would be remiss in his elder brother duties if he let a single moment go unteased – a servant was scurrying out to them and the matter had to be dropped.
It was beyond odd for just a single servant to come out to greet so prestigious a group, a testament perhaps, to the severity of whatever they had been called upon for, but Lan Xichen was ready to dismiss the impropriety. Likewise, he also dismissed the shallowness of the servant’s bow – it had been just low enough to be respectable for a visiting faction, but not as low as technically proper for someone of high a status as him but it was not his place to remark on other peoples’ servants and the boy looked young anyway. He simply could have been new to his station and unfamiliar with the intricacies.
“Follow me, esteemed guests. Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin is in the receiving hall. I will show you to the guest quarters and then to the sect leader.” His tone was perhaps a bit brusque, but the Jiangs were a brisk people. Lan Xichen just smiled softly in gratitude, one hand half raised to pacify his brother as Wangji bristled nearly imperceptibly at the rude tone.
“Thank you.” Lan Xichen said politely as he fell in step behind the servant. The boy dipped his head in acknowledgement but said nothing else. He was tense, Lan Xichen noticed. And as the Lans followed behind him through the meandering hallways of the Jiang complex, he quickly realized he was not the only one.
Even with so many disciples gone, Lotus Pier had never been a quiet place. There was always chatter, laughter, shouting, accompanied by the sounds of bustling repairs in the recent months, but it was though there was a fog of silence descended upon Lotus Pier as they walked, that muted all the normal noises to the point that it resembled Cloud Recesses more than its usual self. It was a tense, poignant silence, like the quiet before the storm.
Lan Xichen did not quite hurry his steps but it was a near thing; whatever they had been called upon for must have been even more serious than he had first thought. “If the matter is so urgent,” Lan Xichen spoke to the back of the servant quietly, “we are more than prepared to meet with Jiang Wanyin first and settle into the guest rooms later.”
The servant did not even turn to acknowledge that Lan Xichen had spoken to him. “Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin will wait for the Lan contingent to settle in the guest quarters. He requires only Zewu-jun and Hanguang-jun to meet with him in the hall. It is a highly confidential matter.” There was a slight undercurrent of annoyance in his tone, as though it was Lan Xichen who had committed some form of social faux pas, bringing more sect members than those specifically named in the letter, though it would have been improper not to come with a small group.
“As you say,” Lan Xichen responded back politely, although he shared a questioning look with Wangji – by which, he shared his confusion with Wangji and Wangji looked back at him with a mostly blank face, the only hint of his discomfit being the narrowed glint of his golden eyes.
Lan Xichen did as he was bid, leaving the rest of his sect members – all five – in the guest quarters they had been led to, neatly and politely ignoring their protests. Lan disciples, of course, were too polite to verbally question the orders of another Sect Leader in said leader’s own domain, but annoyance and confusion were written in the very slight creases on otherwise stoic faces and it was this Lan Xichen ignored. If they needed to be informed, he would do so after the fact, but at the moment, he felt only a slight unease in following Jiang Wanyin’s request. Not enough to go against the other man’s wishes.
Later, he would count this decision as one of the singular blessings of the day.
The servant made even quicker work of bringing Lan Xichen and Wangji to the hall where Jiang Wanyin awaited them. Lan Xichen was mildly surprised that Jiang Wanyin, despite his insistence on privacy, was not alone in the hall. Several Jiang disciples – some of the oldest who had survived the massacre – were staring at the approaching Lans with stony expressions right at the doors to the hall and a female figure stood near Jiang Wanyin, her pleasant face wiped clean of any and all expression.
It took him a moment to place her, unused to the deep burgundy of her robes. It was closer to the Jiang purple than the true red her predecessors had preferred, but after a moment he recognized it as the shade chosen by the Qishan Wen following their pardon. Jiang Wanyin stood side by side with the appointed leader of the Qishan Wen clan, the doctor Wen Qing.
Lan Xichen, thankful to all his lessons in schooling his expression, kept the surprise of his face with great effort, managing a small, pleasant smile as he greeted both Sect Leaders before him with a shallow bow. Jiang Wanyin did not return it but Wen Qing dipped into a textbook bow at his approach. Jiang Wanyin’s expression was thunderous, a not at all uncommon sight, but Wen Qing’s was carefully blank. Lan Xichen wasn’t familiar enough with her to be able to read even the slightest of changes, so whether or not she was angry, he had no way of knowing.
“What is the matter at hand, Sect Leader Jiang?” Lan Xichen knew that it was best to do away with all niceties when it came to Jiang Wanyin, particularly when the man was in a foul mood, which was nearly always.
“Is it about Wei Ying?” Wangji startled him, speaking up beside him unprompted. Wangji spoke rarely in these sorts of meetings and never before being prompted, but Lan Xichen was not surprised by his topic choice. He had, himself, been wondering whether this meeting would have anything to do with the wayward First Disciple of the Jiang sect, who had been in seclusion for half a year.
Jiang Wanyin’s face did something complicated, half a snarl. “You! You dare ask me after what you’ve-“ Before he could continue, a slender hand shot out, stopping his words on the tip of his tongue. Lan Xichen was startled again, this time at the quick way Jiang Wanyin swallowed his words. He had never known anyone capable of stopping Jiang Wanyin mid-tirade and escaping unharmed.
The glint of a needle tucked between two of her fingers may have had something to do with the quick acquiescence, but it was still suitably impressive. “You said you would be calm.” Wen Qing’s voice was scolding, although her expression remained carefully neutral even as the man besides her scoffed loudly.
“This is calm. I haven’t attacked the asshole yet, have I?” Jiang Wanyin’s words were a growl and Lan Xichen was briefly stunned by the acerbic nature of them. He knew the two did not get along well, but it was a remarkable insult to curse the name of a sect heir. Something he would have expected of Wei Wuxian but never Sect Leader Jiang. At least not so openly.
“Yes,” Wen Qing’s eye roll was magnificent in both magnitude and grace. “You are a paragon of serenity. How about we explain the issue before throwing around insults? I’m sure there will be plenty of time in which you and Hanguang-jun can argue.”
“If I may,” Lan Xichen took his moment to interrupt; he could see by the tensing in his brother’s jaw and the dark look in Jiang Wanyin’s fierce gaze that if he allowed either of them to speak there would be bloodshed all over the floors of Lotus Pier. And Jiang Wanyin had worked hard to lay out the fresh tile. “It would help the situation if we were to know, what exactly, the issue is and what precisely you believe Wangji has done?” Lan Xichen’s words were polite, of course, and courteous, but there was a hint of steel at the mention of his brother’s name. Courtesy or not, he would not allow someone to lambast his brother so carelessly.
The subtle threat in his voice went unnoticed – or perhaps uncared for – as Jiang Wanyin let out a derisive snort. “Your brother knows very well what the hell he did. You Lan and all your rules and honor, it’s all bullshit isn’t it?” Wangji stiffened beside Lan Xichen even more, a remarkable feat as he had already had the appearance of a jade statue, and not even Lan Xichen would have been able to curb the wrath in his brother’s tone.
“Careful with your words, Sect Leader Jiang.”
“Or what?” Jiang Wanyin was idly playing with a ring on his finger, a dismissively rude gesture for anyone who did not know the particular horrors of that ring, an outright threat for those who did. “Why should I be careful with what the hell I do when you weren’t? You hounded him the entire war about taking responsibility for his actions and all that time, you never dared take responsibility for yours? All that time, you let him handle the brunt of it all when you were the one who had acted shamelessly and without regard.”
“I do not know what –“ Wangji’s hand was on Bichen now and things were about to get ugly very fast.
It was at that moment, when Lan Xichen had been just about to step in front of his brother before either men could draw their weapons, that several things happened at once.
The doors – which had at some point in the altercation been mindfully shut – of the great hall swung wide open, slamming hard into the walls and Wen Qing began a slow but steady repetition of some very foul words, many Lan Xichen had heard only from Chifeng-zun and some he wondered if the other man even knew.
Jiang Wanyin’s fury turned towards the door. “You! You’re not supposed to be here!”
“I can be wherever I want, thank you.” Lan Xichen’s gaze had not once left Jiang Wanyin’s person, not since he had begun idly playing with Zidian but he jerked around at the sound of that voice.
It had been months since he had heard it, but he would recognize that particular blend of arrogance and cheerful annoyance anywhere.
It was, indeed, Wei Wuxian in the doorway, a lilac clad figure that Lan Xichen was almost positive was a newly married Jiang Yanli trailing behind him, but it was a Wei Wuxian he had never seen before.
Lan Xichen had seen many iterations of Wei Wuxian – a bright-faced youth trailing around after Lan Xichen’s brother, hopelessly oblivious to the small crush he was harboring, a sharp, red-stained warrior in the middle of a battle, an arrogant war-hero with a handsome, beguiling smile. He had seen Wei Wuxian in the simple but finely crafted robes of the Yunmeng Jiang first disciple, in the travel-worn, stained robes of a cultivator at war, and in the luxurious, richly dark robes of a decorated war hero.
He had never seen Wei Wuxian wearing only a set of pale red inner robes, his hair pulled back in a neat but simple bun, holding some sort of bundle against his chest, his face softened by something Lan Xichen couldn’t quite place. It was indecent, in a way, as though Wei Wuxian had been in bed before making his way to the great hall. The man was supposed to be in seclusion to work on dispelling the resentful energy he had honed during the war, not apparently running around Lotus Pier in his bed clothes. Perhaps even doing mundane tasks like laundry. It looked as though the bundle in his hands was some sort of soft blanket, rich red in color and decorated with some sort of stitched golden pattern Lan Xichen couldn’t quite make out. It was either laundry or the feared Wei Wuxian cuddled with a childhood blanket when freshly woken.
“You cannot be here!” Jiang Wanyin repeated even as his brother stepped fully into the hall, Jiang Yanli trailing his every step. “You have fifteen more days!”
Fifteen more days? Had his seclusion had such an exact time? Lan Xichen was fast losing track of the plot.
“No, it was only thirty days! I waited a whole month.”
“It’s sitting for a month when everything is performed normally! Forty-five days when you have to have a procedure for it!” Jiang Wanyin’s voice was rising to a full shout. “Wen Qing, tell this idiot he needs to go back to bed before I drag him out by his stupid hair!”
Procedure? Sitting a month? Lan Xichen was deeply, deeply confused. Wei Wuxian had been in seclusion for six months, not a single one. Lan Xichen didn’t even know of a single kind of seclusion that would only last a month, except the one for new mothers but obviously that could not apply for Wei Wuxian.
“Aiya, Jiang Cheng! My body is fully recovered! I have survived worse, you know. It is not the first time I have had my abdomen ripped open, you know!”
Had Wei Wuxian been attacked?
“I’m fucking well aware of your stupid tendencies. I just don’t care to entertain them! As your sect leader, I am demanding you to get back in your bedroom and wait until your body has fully recovered! I’ll break your damn leg if I have to!” Jiang Wanyin’s words were a mix of outrage and violent concern, a strange mix Lan Xichen had only come to expect from him. It only added to the confusion of the room.
“Ah, ChengCheng, I feel so loved! But I am comfortable here, and the walk back to my room is long. Would you make a lowly one such as this take on such a massive endeavor now, with me like this?” Wei Wuxian had switched tactics so effortlessly that it was impressive. Jiang Wanyin’s face was turning as purple as his robes even as Wei Wuxian took several steps – strangely careful, for someone as graceful as Wei Wuxian – Jiang Yanli faithfully following in step.
Lan Xichen had thought, at first, that the eldest Jiang was merely content to trailing after her brother – she was a quiet woman, meek on some accounts, and apart from the incident at Phoenix Mountain when she had clearly defended her brother, always seemingly content to keep her peace throughout her brothers’ antics. However, her steps were too precise, matching Wei Wuxian’s slightly too slow ones perfectly, almost as though she was ready to catch him should he falter for a moment.
Wei Wuxian must have been injured during his seclusion, possibly quite grievously if he had been bed-ridden for a month and perhaps even now still not quite ready to move around. Considering Lan Xichen had heard rumors of Wei Wuxian holding his own innards upright and walking unaided off a battle-field after a Wen soldier had gotten a lucky strike before being ripped apart, it had to be something quite severe indeed.
Something likely intentional, judging from the way Jiang Wanyin had called them over so abruptly and appeared so furious. Something he seemed to blame Wangji for, as though his brother would ever raise so much as a single finger against Wei Wuxian.
He should speak, while Jiang Wanyin was sputtering in rage, but before he could summon up the words that would cool the atmosphere in this room to a manageable temperature, Wangji was speaking.
“Wei Ying?” And oh, Lan Xichen’s little brother sounded devastated in a way. Of course, he would. Wei Wuxian had disappeared for months in seclusion with not so much as a goodbye and even now, as the man appeared before them cheerful and troublesome as ever, had not once looked at Wangji.
Lan Xichen would need to find a suitable punishment for himself, thinking uncharitably about an obviously injured man, but he could not help the rush of anger that came at such an obvious display of unfeeling. Wei Wuxian could play his games with just about anyone, except Lan Xichen’s younger brother.
Wei Wuxian’s step faltered at the sound of Lan Wangji’s voice, his gaze darting towards Wangji as though he couldn’t help himself, a momentary look of uncertainty on his face before it was covered up with a too-wide smile, fake even to Lan Xichen’s eyes. “Ah Lan Zhan, it’s wonderful to see you again! It’s been so long!” The cheer in his voice sounded strained, perhaps even panicked, if Wei Wuxian was still capable of such an emotion, and Lan Xichen did not miss the half-step back Wei Wuxian took, his arms briefly tightening on the little bundle in his arms.
“Wei Ying, you are hurt.” Wangji startled forward before suddenly stopping before he could actually close the distance between himself and Wei Wuxian. He had seen the half-step too then.
“Aiya, Lan Zhan. It’s nothing. Jiang Cheng is exaggerating. A small injury, nothing for a distinguished man such as Hanguang-jun to concern over. Nothing you should have been brought all this way for.” The last part of his words was targeted towards his brother, a hint of steel underlining the anger hidden behind his smile.
Jiang Wanyin, having seemingly made his peace with the losing battle that was containing Wei Wuxian, snorted derisively. “Of course, he needs to be fucking concerned. He needs to take responsibility for his transgression!” There it was again, that assumption that Wangji had done something wrong. Lan Xichen was beginning to feel his infinite patience unravel.
Wei Ying’s face seemed to contort with something Lan Xichen could not decipher. “I told you, it wasn’t Lan Zhan!” His voice was loud now, a yell.
“And I told you I’d ascend to heaven and throw myself back down three times before I believed that bullshit!” It must have been an ongoing argument. Neither Wen Qing nor Jiang Yanli looked particularly concerned by the vehemence of either man’s words.
Lan Xichen was about to interrupt to demand – politely, respectfully – what exactly was done to Wei Wuxian and how exactly it was supposedly his brother who had done it – when he was stopped once again by a new disturbance.
The bundle in Wei Wuxian’s hands had begun wiggling, a strange sight in and of itself, and a strange high-pitched noise seemed to be emitting from it.
A cry, more than a noise, he dimly realized.
A baby’s cry. His mind helpfully supplied.
Wei Wuxian was holding a baby, swaddled carefully in a blanket.
Wei Wuxian was holding a baby.
Whose baby?!
Carefully, discreetly, Lan Xichen looked at both women in the room. Wen Qing looked completely unruffled, no hint of exhaustion or unease he might have expected from a young mother whose baby was crying. Jiang Yanli looked a little more distressed – as distressed as someone so well-born and well-mannered could look in present company – but she did not seem tired or like a woman newly delivered of child. And she hadn’t been married long enough, Lan Xichen remembered, only a scant handful of months. And before her marriage she had been dutifully at home in Lotus Pier, and there was little chance for an early baby under the watchful eye of Jiang Wanyin.
So who? Who would have trusted Wei Wuxian enough to carry their child around while injured, except the two women already in their company?
“Oh, my sweet little radish, there’s no need for that.” All concerns of the child’s mother fled Lan Xichen’s mind as Wei Wuxian seemed to lose all hints of his wrath in exchange for cooing at the bundle, gently rocking it in his arms with an ease of blossoming familiarity as though he had recently become used to the motion.
Perhaps he had – or baby handling was another talent Wei Wuxian unexpectedly possessed – because the child settled quickly, their loud cries softening to hiccups and then gurgles and then nothing at all. The sudden silence was enough to finally settle Lan Xichen’s scrambled thoughts and what should have been obvious became clear.
“I apologize. Had I known about the newest addition to your family, Wei-gongzi, I would have brought welcoming gifts.” Lan Xichen spoke gently, seizing the appearance of the child as a chance to steer the conversation to more gentle waters. He did not know when or how Wei Wuxian had acquired a child – well, perhaps he knew the technical how, but not the practical – but it was obvious that it was his. Wei Wuxian was young for a father, and there had been no announcements from Yunmeng Jiang of a marriage or even a betrothal but that meant little. Wei Wuxian did whatever he pleased, even without official or social acceptance. There was no reason fatherhood would not come to him the same way.
He would have to figure out how to comfort Wangji, later when they were alone, about this shocking news. His brother had gone completely rigid and pale, like a corpse, in a way that Lan Xichen knew meant his brother’s mind had reached the same exact conclusion.
“May I ask after the mother? Is she well?” Lan Xichen continued when his words had been meant with silence. His words were completely innocent and entirely serious and yet –
A complicated emotion twisted Wei Wuxian’s face and his eyes darted around him, seeking support from those around them for a reason Lan Xichen couldn’t fathom. Neither could he understand the way Jiang Yanli finally stepped forward so that she stood at her brother’s side and lifted a gentle hand to rest against his shoulder in some silent show of care.
Quick as the strange expression had come, it was gone, replaced by a too-bright grin. “Of course you can, Zewu-jun! The mother is fine of course, never been better!”
Lan Xichen tried not to let his face fall at the tiny sound that emitted from his brother, nearly inaudible, as Wei Wuxian confirmed their deepest suspicions.
“I am glad to hear of it. I suppose she might still be in her sitting, since she is not here with you?” The conversation before them – in fact, the entire visit to Lotus Pier – had gone completely to the wayside, but Lan Xichen preferred this strange discussion to the fight that had been brewing before Wei Wuxian’s appearance.
This time, it wasn’t only Wei Wuxian’s face that had twisted with some unknowable emotion.
Silence reigned for a moment before Jiang Wanyin broke it with a scoff.
“It hasn’t, in fact, but the mother is a stubborn asshole who doesn’t know what’s best for her.”
The look Wei Wuxian leveled at his brother was a mixture of betrayal and outrage. “How could you speak so cruelly of a new mother? Jiang Cheng, your words wound!” Lan Xichen wasn’t sure who was being wounded, since the woman in question was not present, but he supposed Wei Wuxian would be the sort of husband to treat assaults against his wife the same as those against his own person.
“Who is this mother?” It was Wangji, not Lan Xichen, who broke into the conversation before a new fight could begin anew, so quickly after Wei Wuxian’s words that it was dangerously close to breaking the rule against interrupting. “Who birthed your child, Wei Ying?” He continued, his words nearly pleading despite the calm he had forced into them.
Lan Xichen would need to learn how to help heal a broken heart, when they returned to Cloud Recesses, and part of him hated Wei Wuxian in that moment, because of it.
The man of his ire seemed to hesitate a moment, teetering between revealing the identity of his wife or not, before he seemed to finally cave and a wide smile bloomed on his face. “Why Lan Zhan, it was me of course! I birthed my son!”
Lan Xichen did not know whether to laugh or cry about the joke, cruelly timed and inappropriate. He bit the tip of his tongue to keep his expression poised, a trick he had learned as a child and never quite been able to unlearn, and glanced around the room to see other’s reactions.
It was an impossible statement, of course. Male births were not entirely unheard of, in the cultivation world, but so rare they were left almost entirely to myth and legend. There had only been one confirmed male pregnancy in the last two centuries. And all the texts were clear as to what kind of men were susceptible to such a thing – not just cutsleeves, but those with weak or no golden cores, and whose bodies had an irregular amount of yin energy. While Wei Wuxian may fill the first condition – Lan Xichen did not know enough about the other man’s personal history to dare make assumptions on that – and while the resentful energy he had spent the war cultivating may have fulfilled the last, there was no way that Wei Wuxian could meet the second and technically most important - as the lower dantian was believed to be where a fetus formed in the male body and it simply could not happen if the space was taken up by a large golden core. It was impossible for Wei Wuxian to ever carry a child, let alone one to term.
Or at least, Lan Xichen had assumed so, given the fact that Wei Wuxian had one of the most powerful golden cores of their generation. But where he had expected shock or annoyance at Wei Wuxian’s careless words on the faces of those around him – Jiang Wanyin alone should have burst with anger at the crude joke – he was met with none. Wen Qing looked a little exasperated and Jiang Wanyin’s face was twitching, but neither looked particularly surprised or outraged.
It was Jiang Yanli, however, who made Lan Xichen truly hesitate in his disbelief. She was a gentle woman, a little meek, from all he had heard. Even A-Yao did not have much to say of his sister-in-law, other than that she always had a kind word, when she deemed to speak at all. Lan Xichen had the impression that she was rather delicate, like the lotus flower she was so fond of, yet her expression was as sharp as any sword as she stared at him, her slender fingers squeezing her younger brother’s shoulder tightly in support. She looked as if she was challenging him to voice the doubt that must have shown on his face and that, beyond anything, was enough to convince him that there may have been some truth in Wei Wuxian’s joking words.
“A-Xian speaks truly. He has birthed a son. That is why we have requested your appearance, Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun.” Lan Xichen was still reeling at the impossible situation before him that it took him a moment to recognize that the steel in Jiang Yanli’s gentle voice was an accusation.
“I do not understand.” Lan Xichen finally said. Wangji beside him was completely frozen; it was perhaps crueler for him, to know that Wei Wuxian was a cutsleeve after all and had chosen another man to gift with children rather than a man who had chosen a wife. His little brother may never speak again at all, from the grief of it all.
“You can’t be that fucking stupid. You know why we summoned you here.” Jiang Wanyin sounded outraged once more, although his voice was barely above his regular carrying tones, obviously in deference to the little ears amongst them.
“Jiang Cheng, I told you! A-Yuan’s not –“ Yuan, that must have been the little one’s name. Lan Xichen distantly wondered what characters Wei Wuxian had chosen for his son. Everything seemed suddenly very far away from him, and wondering whether the infant’s name was written with ‘Hope’ or if Wei Wuxian had a secret fondness for gardening seemed far more safe than trying to fully follow everything going on around him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Jiang Wanyin’s voice was carrying, managing to even reach Lan Xichen’s far away mind. Lan Xichen watched with a growing sense of unease and horror as Jiang Wanyin took the bundle – the baby, Jiang Wanyin’s nephew, Wei Wuxian’s son, A-Yuan – from Wei Wuxian’s arms and thrusted it – him – out to the frozen Lans.
Lan Xichen had never seen a child quite so small. He was a strange thing, somehow both impossibly tiny – how could something so little possibly exist? – and entirely too big – how could something so large fit inside a human body? That was the first thing Lan Xichen’s mind latched onto, the impossibility of babies, it was a safe thing, much safer than the other thing he had realized.
For how quiet the baby had become, Lan Xichen had thought he had fallen back to sleep, soothed in his father’s – mother’s?! – arms but he hadn’t. His little face was calm, but his eyes were wide open, taking everything in with brilliantly colored eyes.
Brilliantly golden eyes.
The kind of golden that only appeared in one sect, and in one particular family line.
The Lan Sect.
Lan Xichen’s family line.
He was startling to feel unsteady on his feet.
Who?
Lan Xichen knew it wasn’t himself. It couldn’t have been Shushu – even if his uncle was capable of such actions, he wouldn’t engage in such a thing with someone like Wei Wuxian, younger than both his nephews and a general hindrance to his sanity. His father was long passed and Lan Xichen only had the one uncle, and nothing but distant cousins too far removed from the main line who could pass the golden eyes on to a newborn.
But that only left –
“Wei Ying.” Wangji was lifting a hand out, to the bundle, to little A-Yuan who seemed to be trying and not quite managing to fix his wide, bright eyes onto the slender fingers before him, not quite daring to touch. “How?”
How indeed.
Wangji’s question was meant by a nervous laugh. “The night before the final battle. I know you probably don’t remember much but you – um – accidentally drank the wine that was meant for me and fell asleep. I was helping you to bed and you woke up. You – um – wouldn’t let me leave and –“
Lan Xichen was growing very faint, very quickly. He very much did not want Wei Wuxian to continue speaking which was good because the young man – father? Mother? Parent – nervously trailed off without finishing his thought, a deep red staining his entire face, a match to the blossoming pink of Wangji’s ears.
His brother definitely remembered, then.
“Can –“ Wangji was interrupted before he could finish the request by Jiang Wanyin unceremoniously shoving the baby – gently – into his arms.
This was not, Lan Xichen was certain, a moment he or anyone else should be privy to. Lan Xichen could not quite see the expression that must have been on his brother’s face as he held the baby but he could imagine it must have been something close to wondrous, judging from the way Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian’s face softened at the sight.
“You said it meant nothing.” Wangji spoke again, his head still bowed as though he could never drink in the sight of the baby enough. Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen distantly noticed in his attempt to look anywhere than at his brother at that moment, seemed to turn a darker shade of red.
It was a strange statement, without context. But Lan Xichen understood the reasoning more than he wanted to.
There was another condition hinted about but never outright stated, when it came to males bearing children.
They came from a very specific kind of dual cultivation, which could only be attained by two people in with high regard for one another.
A child would have never come of a situation that meant nothing.
“Well – I knew, how ashamed you would be, losing to urges like that, just because you were drunk! I hadn’t meant to take advantage of you in that state and I knew – I knew you didn’t feel the same way as I do and that’s okay! I won’t saddle you with him just because I wasn’t careful! You should be able to marry who you please, not be tied to someone you can barely stand because of a single night - “
Wei Wuxian was rambling; from the dark storm forming on Jiang Wanyin’s face the words were nothing new. They had probably been said countless times in between Wei Wuxian’s denials of the child’s parentage.
Wangji, for perhaps the first time in his life, interrupted someone, his gaze finally ripping itself from the baby – from his son? From Lan Xichen’s nephew? – to stare at Wei Wuxian.
“Will marry Wei Ying. Only want to marry Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian made a sort of startled noise. “You can’t – Lan Zhan you shouldn’t settle for someone like me – you can visit, and A-Yuan can come to Cloud Recesses when he’s older, if you want, but you shouldn’t – not to me! You should marry someone you love!”
“Mn.” Wangji agreed. “Love Wei Ying.”
Oh, Lan Xichen did not want to be here for this. He wanted to be somewhere far away, possibly on an entirely differently plane of existence. He felt, from the faint ringing now going on his head, that he may possibly be ascending – or more likely descending, because certainly being a part of such a conversation must have been a punishment concocted by hell. Everything was going very faint, very fuzzy.
Not nearly fuzzy enough as he could still see the exact moment that Wangji’s words – truthful as they were because Wangji would never lie and certainly would never lie to Wei Wuxian – seemed to cut into the thick gauze of obliviousness that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with. The look of dawning hope was not one that should have been seen by anyone but Wei Wuxian’s partner.
Who was apparently Wangji.
“Good, good. Glad you two fucking idiots have agreed. Glad to know Lan Wangji isn’t a fucking deadbeat, just stupid. Now get the fuck out, back to your room to finish letting your body heal from being sliced open to remove a whole damn child so me and Zewu-jun can plan the wedding before word gets out that my fucking first disciple was ravished by one of the twin jades. A-jie, chaperone them.” Jiang Wanyin’s voice was angry sounding but it had finally lost the murderous bite that had colored it the entire meeting – a murderous bite that had evidently only existed because Jiang Wanyin had somehow believed that Wangji had known about the baby and had purposely left Wei Wuxian alone, a thought so ludicrous that Lan Xichen might have taken offense if he hadn’t been in such a state of shock.
“A wedding?” He asked faintly as Jiang Yanli carefully herded both their brothers – were they holding hands now? Lan Xichen couldn’t tell because they were standing so impossibly close but it looked as though their hands were interlocked, and they were definitely murmuring together in rushed, adoring tones that Lan Xichen never wanted to hear again.
Jiang Wanyin’s look was almost pitying, underneath all the – actually righteous because what had Wangji been thinking, doing that before a marriage, their uncle had raised them better – anger. But his tone was distinctly not as he spoke, “a fucking wedding. As soon as possible. Before they give us another nephew or a niece.”
A wedding.
A nephew.
Lan Xichen’s remarkable constitution finally failed, and he fell into a dead faint.
When he woke, he would be pleased for his brother and he would properly greet his nephew. When he woke, he would settle down to discuss marriage negotiations with Jiang Wanyin, perhaps a bit too acquiescent to the Jiang demands in order to make up for his brother’s impatience. When he woke, he would find out a way to break the news to his uncle without sending him into qi deviation.
But that was for an awake Lan Xichen, later.
For now, he was blissfully, blissfully unaware of all that would await him when he woke.
Including the needles Wen Qing would – perhaps a tad bit too gleefully – stab into him to help him wake faster.