Chapter Text
“Where is Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji repeated, more like a demand than a genuine question.
Surprisingly, Nie Huaisang did not seem even the least little bit intimidated by the formidable cultivator. Yanli had expected quivering lips and panic.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Wangji-xiong! We did not hide your betrothed from you!” Nie Huaisang, clearly reading more into his (lack of) expression than Yanli could, circled around the table and wagged a finger at him. “You could have just sent a message! A bird! A talisman! But no, you had knock out Nie Fang and Nie Yuzhao, and now Tong’ge is going to have to punish them and then DaGe will blame me!” He stood there with his hands on his hips, foot tapping.
Lan Wangji raised one eyebrow a fraction, and glanced at the door without moving his head.
“No! I’m not telling you anything! You scared us and that was a very ungentlemanly thing to do!”
Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes.
“Absolutely not, and I don’t appreciate your tone. You interrupted us.”
“Sang’er,” Yanli said, deciding to break the standoff. He huffed and crossed his arms. She thought Lan Wangji might have looked a little relieved.
“Lan Wangji, what did you do with the innkeeper and his wife?” She asked.
“Locked in the cellar.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you purposely mean to create a whole spectacle?”
“Yes.”
“Argh!” Nie Huaisang flapped his arms. “You are so bad at strategy! How are you related to Xichen’ge?”
Lan Wangji gave him a look so dry it could have evaporated a whole lake. “He is my brother.”
Nie Huaisang snarled. “I hate you so much.”
“Boys,” Yanli sighed. They turned to her with wide eyes.
“I’m going to sit down and finish my lunch,” she announced and went to back to her place at the table. Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji glanced at each other uncertainly. She pointed at the table. “You will both join me.”
They made their way over and sat down. Nie Huaisang kept throwing her wary looks, but Lan Wangji simply did as he was told, like a proper junior should. Yanli ate for a few quiet moments, but then…
“Wei Ying?”
Nie Huaisang groaned. “Aiya! He’s gone to rescue you!”
“What?” Lan Wangji refocused on Yanli, who sadly put down the delicious bowl of squash soup she had been enjoying.
“Sang’er is right. Four days ago, Ying’er took a squad of Nie and secretly headed south, first through Gusu into Lanling—”
“Why?” Lan Wangji dared to interrupt her and actually looked a little upset, which probably meant he was very upset. Even Nie Huaisang was surprised at his uncharacteristic discourtesy, although he recovered quickly.
“His ghost crows told him that Wei Cheng and Lan Wangji had been captured by some unknown cultivators,” Nie Huaisang said, his demeanor and tone extremely judgmental.
“His ghost crows?” Lan Wangji looked between them. “The crow soldiers?”
“No, just regular ghost crows.” Nie Huaisang shrugged in the face of Lan Wangji’s frustration.
“Sang’er, please,” Yanli said softly, and his mouth snapped shut. She turned to Lan Wangji. “A lot has happened since you left for the Cloud Recesses. What Sang’er is referring to is that A’Cheng joined a squadron of Nie sent into Gusu by Nie Mingjue to find and, if possible, extract Lan Xichen safely. You as well, if possible. Grandmaster Lan firmly believed that both of you are alive, despite…despite what Wen Zhuliu did to your brother.”
His expression barely changed but he radiated confusion and devastation. “You talked to Uncle?”
“Mn. He made it to the Unclean Realm and related the fall of the Gusu Lan,” she said, trying to make her words gentle.
“Oh.” He frowned down at the table.
“Did you not know he made it out alive?” She asked gently. If he had been A’Cheng or Ying’er, she would have put a hand on his arm, but she doubted he would find it soothing.
“I assumed he had, but that he would…stay hidden. Safe.” He looked so genuinely distressed that even Nie Huaisang kept quiet.
She nodded for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “He chose to go to his allies, to warn us. He is an honorable man, and he would not sit quietly by in safety while his nephews are unaccounted for.”
Lan Wangji did not flinch, but Yanli could tell it was a near thing.
“We all want to see our loved ones safe, Lan Wangji. I understand your pain—right now, both my brothers are at risk in Lanling, and my seneschal is suffering from an attack by Wen Zhuliu.”
His head snapped up. “Meng Yao lives after such an attack?”
She smiled softly. “Yes. As your brother does.”
His expression flickered with an emotion she could not read, but in the end, he nodded.
Nie Huaisang was thoughtfully tapping the scabbard of the mundane Wen sword with a finger, which caused Lan Wangji to glare at him and move it away, as if they were little boys arguing over a toy. Maybe, she thought, they had once been exactly that, during their infancies.
But instead of pouting, Nie Huaisang gave Lan Wangji a sharp look for a moment before shaking his head. “Your uncle had his sword. Where is Bichen?”
“It was held separately,” Lan Wagnji said crisply, with a finality that meant he did not want to talk about it.
“Of course, of course! I just imagined that would be high on your list of things to steal, Hanguang-jun.” He all but hissed the title.
“No.” Lan Wangji sat looking straight ahead at nothing. Yanli had no idea what was going on between them, but decided it did not matter for the moment.
“We need to find a way to bring you back to camp,” she started, but Lan Wangji shook his head.
“I know you want to be a distraction from your brother, but if he’s been captured, then it makes more sense to join us for the moment, until we get word from Ying’er.”
“No. I will leave immediately to follow him, to save my brother and my betrothed.”
“No, you will not!” Nie Huaisang burst out in frustration.
“I must.”
“Both of you, please be quiet for a moment,” she said, rubbing her temples. At least they obediently stopped talking, although they both still looked mulish.
Over to the side, Jiang Minhao groaned, followed by one of the Nie, and the solution to their problem dropped like a pearl into Yanli’s hands.
“Sang’er, go untie the guards and have everyone gather here. No, you must keep your mask off,” she said the last to Lan Wangji.
He paused with it in his hand, looking at her in confusion.
“I will explain in a moment,” she whispered. “You must trust me. Please.”
He paused while Nie Huaisang gently roused Jiang Minhao and Jiang Wu, then nodded and tucked the mask away.
“Stop kicking me, you menace!” One of the Nie guards snapped, lashing out at Nie Huaisang who was, in fact, kicking the Nie awake.
“It’s the least you deserve for letting Hanguang-jun get the drop on you! Wait until Da’Ge finds out!” He kept kicking at them as they untied each other and tried to grab his feet.
“Don’t tell Sect Leader!” The younger Nie whined, before he looked up and clocked Lan Wangji. “Wait, who is that? Is that Hanguang-jun?” He sprang up and reached for his saber.
“Stop.” Yanli held up her hand, and everyone froze. It was so incredibly gratifying to be a sect leader, she marveled. She stood up to hold their collective attention as she spoke. “This is Lan Xichen. He was chasing Hanguang-jun and stumbled across this inn just as the attack started. He chased the bandit away but stayed here to protect me and Young Master Nie.”
Lan Wangji blinked at her, and Nie Huaisang grinned. The Nie and Jiang exchanged glances that said very loudly that they knew they were being lied to. She was banking on the fact that they thought they were being lied to about the identity of Hanguang-jun, not being lied to about the identity of “Lan Xichen.”
After a long second, Lan Wangji stood up, bowed, and then…smiled.
Nie Huaisang gasped and Yanli did a double take, but with the gentle smile on his face, he could nearly be his own brother. Their faces were slightly different, and Lan Xichen was noticeably a few years older, while Lan Wangji’s eyes were more golden than amber, but to anyone who did not know either of them personally, who had only seen them from a distance, it was an exact match.
The guards immediately bowed deeply. “Sect Leader Lan,” they chorused. Nie Huaisang shot Yanli a look of triumph.
“I shall not mention this oversight to Sect Leader Nie,” Lan Wangji said, still smiling, and tilting his head a little. Lan Xichen would have smiled more along with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, but otherwise it was a passable imitation of the more tolerant, mild-mannered brother.
“Nie Fang, go back to camp and tell Nie Meitong and Seneschal Meng we’re on our way back with Lan Xichen!” Nie Huaisang announced, and one of the Nie bowed hastily before running out the door.
“Jiang Wu, please check on the innkeeper and his family. I suspect they were locked in the cellar,” Yanli asked more calmly. He nodded and jogged toward the kitchen.
Yanli scooted over to stand next to Lan Wangji while the others sorted themselves out and did a performative “search” around the inn for Hanguang-jun.
“I apologize for not warning you, but our guards were already waking up,” she whispered.
The smile fell from his face, and he nodded. “It is an acceptable ruse. If Xiongzhang has not actually been captured, it will throw off his pursuers to hear that he is this far north,” he whispered back.
She nodded, watching as he picked up his mundane sword. “You might also lock down your core, for now; everyone knows Lan Xichen lost his to Wen Zhuliu. It would not make sense for him to show up radiating spiritual energy again,” she said. She wondered if he had already done that, given that she was not picking up on qi vibrations from him—the better to pretend to be the bandit Hanguang-jun, she supposed.
He glanced away as he nodded.
As they walked back to the caravan, Nie Huaisang did not say anything but looked beyond thrilled by the whole charade, bouncing on his toes. Yanli kept up a one-sided “conversation” with Lan Wangji to hide the fact that he, himself, was not actually talking.
Nie Meitong jogged out to meet them, slowed down, came to a complete stop, then raised his hand as if to point at Lan Wangji. “That’s not—”
“NOT HANGUANG-JUN! We were so wrong!” Nie Huaisang shouted over him. “This is the brave and honorable Lan Xichen, who fought off the murderous bandit and saved all our lives!” He fluttered his fan around Lan Wangji as if presenting a prized horse. For his part, Lan Wangji was bowing and smiling again. She would have to warn him not to smile too much, or it would get creepy.
A’Yao walked over slowly, his own face morphing to one of amusement as he figured out the whole scheme. When he got to Yanli, he bowed, and then asked under his breath, “Whose idea was that?”
“Mine,” she whispered back with a polite nod. He hummed in approval and she tried not to blush.
“A few Nie surely will recognize who he is, as Lan Xichen was a regular visitor to the Unclean Realm. But I doubt they will say anything to compromise Lan Wangji, if only because Nie Huaisang is being so…obvious about it.” She kept her voice low as they slowly meandered over to where Nie Meitong and several of his aides were squinting at Lan Wangji uncertainly.
A’Yao chuckled. “If nothing else, they are all very used to going along with whatever schemes he sets in motion.”
“Indeed,” she said with a nod. “We will have to bring Nie Meitong in on the charade, though, for Lan Wa…Xichen’s safety.”
“And, perhaps, Nie Meitong’s sanity,” A’Yao said, trying not to laugh as he watched Nie Huaisang’s act. But then he gave her a solemn nod and shuffled off to arrange for a private meeting next to Nie Huaisang’s forward carriage.
Nie Meitong looked extremely relieved to find out he was not hallucinating, but he was also a bit sharper than most others in realizing that Lan Wangji was also Hanguang-Jun, no matter how much Nie Huaisang and Yanli insisted he wasn’t. He let the matter drop, but his expression told Yanli that he would bring it up again, eventually.
It was past the time for the caravan to start back up on its travels, so everyone around them was hustling to get the horses and oxen ready to go. Lan Wangji still looked like he was one breath away from running into the forest to chase after his brother and Wei Ying, but somehow Nie Huaisang was there every time he turned around, herding him to the forward carriage.
He gave Yanli a beseeching look.
“We will regroup this evening, I promise. For now, ride with Sang’er and A’Yao, rest, and—”
She was interrupted as a cry went up near the back of the caravan.
“To arms! To arms!” Nie Meitong bellowed, striding forward and swinging his saber in front of him. He and the other guards were staring up into the sky at a large flock of birds headed toward them in a V-shape. Yanli wondered for a confused moment if they were Wei Ying’s crows, but another look revealed them to be cultivators on swords.
“There must be hundreds of them,” A’Yao said in awe.
Lan Wangji squinted for a moment, tilting his head with what had to be the closest the Lan ever came to frowning, his eyes sparking with alarm. “Wen.”