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"Lan Zhan…"
Lan Wangji sat bolt upright, ignoring the agony screaming through his back at the sudden movement.
"Lan Zhan," the voice breathed again, followed by an achingly familiar laugh.
"Wei Ying?" Throwing his thin blankets off his legs, Lan Wangji stumbled to his feet, staggering out the door. "Wei Ying?" He called into the darkness around him. "Wei Ying, is that you?"
He heard branches creaking, overshadowed by that hauntingly familiar laughter. He hadn't heard Wei Ying laugh like that in years. Not since before the indoctrination camp. Hearing it now was a balm on his soul better than anything his brother had been able to offer him for his back.
"Lan Zhan, come with me," the voice beckoned him further into the woods, drifting away from him.
Lan Wangi lurched after him, reaching out to grab…what? He couldn't see him, only hear his voice, blindly hobbling along behind him, calling for him, but never reaching him, never catching so much as a glimpse of red ducking behind a tree ahead of him or a flick of a ponytail as Wei Ying leapt through the trees overhead. Always chasing, but never succeeding. Some things even death couldn't change. "Wei Ying, wait! Where are you?"
"I'm right here."
The voice came from behind him, but it no longer sounded like Wei Ying. It was deeper, rougher, more like the ghosts Wei Ying used to command than the man himself. With a sinking feeling, Lan Wangji turned around.
But there he was. Wei Ying. His bright red hair ribbon fluttered in the wind, dancing around his face and playing with the hair being blown beside it. The same breeze carried Wei Ying's smell to Lan Wangji, and the scent of it almost brought him to his knees. Wei Ying had only been dea— gone for half a year, but Lan Wangji hadn't even realized when he forgot the way he smelled. How could he have forgotten that mix of lotus and salt and wine? It shouldn't be pleasant, but Lan Wangi drank it in like the Emperor's Smile Wei Ying had so loved.
Wei Ying tilted his head. Something about it was…off. He was too still, like a predator frozen in the instant before it pounced. Lan Wangji almost felt like prey, but Wei Ying was standing right in front of him, so he let it go. If Wei Ying wanted to hunt him, he would not resist.
"Wei Ying, I looked for you, I searched the Burial Mounds but I couldn't find you, I'm so sorry, I—"
Wei Ying's voice cuts him off. It's back to normal. Not that Lan Wangji would judge him if his voice had changed for good. "Lan Zhan…I was right there. I was right there and you walked right past me. You didn't even notice me begging for help. You didn't even slow down as I clung to your robes, pleading with you to stop."
"No! No, Wei Ying, I looked, I promise, I didn't miss you, there is no way I would have walked past you," Lan Wangji's voice held more emotion than he can remember it ever having before. He felt like he was overflowing, like one more drop would send his emotions all cascading down his sides, like he was one teardrop away from crumbling.
His back was starting to heal, and he was able to move small distances as long as he was careful. But in his mad rush through the forest, he had torn open several of the lacerations again, and he could feel the warm blood trickling out, pasting his robes to his back. He saw Wei Ying's nostrils flare, his eyes gaining a slight red tinge.
He took an unconscious step away. Shaking his head, he tried to force himself to step closer to Wei Ying again. What was his body doing? He finally had Wei Ying right here, right in front of him, and he was stepping away? He should be rushing forward, embracing him, letting him know how loved he is and that he was right all along. Let him know that he would never have to fight alone again.
Instead, his feet kept backing him away until he hit a tree. The sharp sting of it brought clarity to his mind, and he realized where he was. He realized what he was doing. He was outside the Cloud Recesses barrier. He followed a strange voice of a loved one into the night. He didn't have his sword. And he didn't see anything until he was past the wards.
The most heartbreaking realization settled over him last, heavy like a funeral shroud.
That this wasn't Wei Ying.
It couldn't be.
Wei Ying was dead.
And he could never come back.
Despite knowing he hadn't grabbed his sword, his hand automatically reached for his side to draw it. When his hand found only air, he settled into a fighting stance. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold his own, not with the state his back was in, not without a weapon. But maybe he would be able to get back inside the wards at the very least.
The thing still kept Wei Ying's shape, even as it became blatantly clear they both knew that it wasn't Wei Ying. It still smelled like him, still leaned his weight slightly to the right. Its smile was still crooked. It hurt more than the 33 lashes combined. How dare this creature use Wei Ying's face? How dare it drag him through the mud more than he already had been?
"What are you? What do you want?"
"What I am isn't important, Lan Wangji. I'm not even the person who wants to see you."
Lan Wangji felt his brow furrow. "Then who is? Why did you bring me out here?"
A smile split the creature's face, unnaturally wide and horrifying to see on a face so beloved. "You’ll see."
There were sudden footsteps right next to him and Lan Wangji went to turn around, but with a solid thunk, something hit his head, and he was out cold.
He first came to in snatches. A flicker of a torch, a snatch of a conversation. He felt fingers on his back, digging in, and he let out a pained groan before he let the darkness carry him under again.
The next time he woke he felt more coherent. He stayed still, trying to take stock of his situation. He was somewhere cold and damp. He didn't hear anyone breathing besides him, but that didn't mean no one else was there. It was too still. Too quiet. He couldn't gather much else without opening his eyes.
Cracking open his eyelids, he saw he was in some sort of cave. The ceiling was low, and there was only one torch to light the room. It looked like he was alone for the moment, so he took the opportunity to sit up and see what the state of his back was.
He sat, and the skin of his back tightened painfully but didn't split again. It didn't burn with infection, or feel otherwise worse than expected. Letting out a sigh of relief, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed he was in. He paused when he saw what he was wearing.
Of course, he knew that he hadn't bothered to dress before rushing after the spirit (like a fool), but that thought hadn't translated to him not wearing proper attire now, for some reason. He was dressed only in his underrobes. His hair was loose around his shoulders, and he had no weapons to speak of.
Simply put, he was a disgrace to look at. His uncle would be so disappointed when he learned what happened.
On silent, bare feet, Lan Wangji made his way to the door, listening for anyone coming down the hall. Not hearing anything, he made to step out, and walked right into—
Wei Ying. Or rather, the creature who was still wearing his likeness. They both froze for a moment. Lan Wangji got his wits about him first, but he hesitated to raise a hand against Wei Ying, even though he knew it wasn't really him. That split second of hesitation was all the spirit needed to strike him, hard enough to send him flying back to the bed he had woken up in. He landed hard, his back screaming at him as his head slammed against the wall.
His mind went fuzzy again. The repeated head injuries couldn't be good for him, he vaguely mused. He heard arguing from the doorway, and turned his attention to what they were saying.
"Why did you do that? Chengzhu wanted him up to talk to him. "
"Well I obviously didn't do it on purpose! I panicked, I didn't think he would be up yet. Look, he's fine, he's moving."
There were footsteps, then someone hauling him up (not just someone, the one pretending to be Wei Ying. He would know the feel of his body against his anywhere. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, and it made him sick to be pressed against that body without Wei Ying occupying it). They propped him against the wall, and his back settled into a dull ache, pulsing fire from where it made contact with the stone.
The imposter took a step back, standing on Lan Wangji's side. Lan Wangji didn't have to wait long before the actual boss entered the room. He didn't even have to ask if this was the man in charge. He had an immense aura of power, and he carried his killing intent like a cloak over his shoulders. His actual robes were a deep scarlet, and he had an eyepatch over his eye. His black hair hung in wild tangles around his face, a single braid twisted into it, with a red pearl clasped at the end. Long, pale fingers were playing with it as he regarded Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji didn't speak. This wasn't unusual, but usually it was because he had nothing to say. This time, it was because he was tongue-tied. He had never met a being who made him feel so obviously outmatched. He had never felt so powerless. He waited to hear what the man decided about him.
"So. You are Lan Wangji?"
Lan Wangji dipped his head in acknowledgement. "And how may I address you?"
"I am Hua Cheng. Have you heard of me?"
Lan Wangji shook his head.
Hua Cheng let out a small scoff. "I'm not surprised. You mortals have been less and less scared of the things that go bump in the night. Ever since the major cultivation clans took over..." he trailed off. "Tsk. Do you know why I had my Baigujing bring you here?"
Lan Wangji shook his head again. He had no idea what such a powerful ghost would want with him. Those deceptively delicate fingers continued to twist the pearl. Round and round it went, appearing in mesmerizing flashes.
"I lost a bet. Someone very dear to me told me to, that it was a worthy cause. So I'm here to uphold my end of the bargain."
With a toss of his dice, they were both transported to a…gambling hall? Lan Wangji self-consciously pulled his robes closer around him. He knew the white must be soaked through with blood in the back, and looking around, it very much seemed like this was a bad place to be covered in blood. All manner of demons, ghosts, and monsters were sitting around tables. They were placing bets, eating food, and drinking…dubious looking concoctions. He turned his gaze back to Hua Cheng, only to find him already several steps away. Lan Wangji hurried to match his pace, falling into step silently.
They entered a small room, and Hua Cheng waved a hand at a pile of robes laid out on the table. Lan Wangji pulled them on. He was loathed to feel grateful to this ghost for anything, but he did feel much more put together with more layers on. It also helped that they were black, so they wouldn't show any blood if his back split open again.
Even if they black did remind him of someone he desperately didn't want to think about right now.
"I have had someone badgering me about you. He won't shut up. Every five seconds it's, 'Lan Zhan loves this kind of soup,' or 'Lan Zhan would have really liked that song,' Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan."
Lan Wangji's mouth tightened at hearing this ghost forgoing the use of his courtesy name, even as his heart started to swell with hope. Who else but one person used that name? "And why do you tell me this?"
"Because I lost the bet to them. They asked me to tell you that they are ok. They bet their ashes for it." Hua Cheng regarded Lan Wangi with a relaxed expression. "Do you know what that means for a ghost?
Lan Wangji shook his head.
"It means that, had he lost, I would have had full control of him to do as I please. I could make him do whatever I wanted, crush him, even take him out of the reincarnation cycle. This is what he bet."
Lan Wangji's head was swimming, but he forced himself to ask, "Who would do such a thing?"
Hua Cheng looked at him in silent judgement. "Who do you think? You already know."
"Wei Ying?" The name was breathed out, a ghost in its own right.
"Who else? You know, I was expecting someone much more…much more, for how much he has to say about you."
"How do you know him?" Lan Wangji felt like his mind was buzzing, trying to process things faster than his thoughts knew how to run. "Why is he here? Why hasn't he moved on?"
"Why do any ghosts linger? He had something he couldn't let go of." Hua Cheng cast a disparaging look over Lan Wangji. "Or someone."
Lan Wangji's heart was pounding like the galloping of a horse, he was sure it would burst out of his chest at any minute. "Is he still here? Can I see him?"
Hua Cheng let out a derisive snort. "Of course he is still here. I can't get him to leave. But no," he continued, cutting off the hope Lan Wangji had felt growing in his chest. "You cannot see him."
"…why?"
Hua Cheng studied him, top to bottom. Lan Wangji didn't know what he found in his search, but when he was done, his eyes had softened, just a little. "It's not time yet."
Yet?
That implied… "But it will be…sometime?"
A beat, while it seemed Hua Cheng was deciding if he would answer, before, "Yes."
Lan Wangji's heart swelled, joy crashing over him like a wave.
“But first, I need to know. Can you get through all the pain inside you? Can you find your way through the grief that has been eating you alive? You need to find something else to hold onto, Lan Wangji, or you will be pulled away before you can ever see him again.”
Lan Wangji saw Lan Sizhui's face, then his brother, then his uncle. Yes. He could get through the pain he was carrying. He could find the other side. Especially if he knew Wei Ying would be waiting there for him.
"Mn."
Hua Cheng's lips curled into a slight smile. "Good. I'm going to send you back now."
He lifted his hand, and Lan Wangji couldn't help but blurt, "Wait!" Hua Cheng paused, the dice in his hand clicking together softly. "How long?"
Hua Cheng didn't answer.
He tossed the dice in his hand, and Lan Wangji disappeared.
From around the corner, two people appeared. One was wearing black and red, and the other white. The one wearing white drew closer to Hua Cheng, smiling.
"Ah, that was so good of you, San Lang."
The devotion which filled Hua Cheng's eyes as he looked down at the smaller man was palpable. "What can I say, Dianxia," he said with a self deprecating smile. "Those poor pining fools reminded me of someone."
The man in red and black watched from the edge of the room. He was staring at the place where Lan Wangji had disappeared. Lan Wangji, back safe in his bed in the Jingshi, felt a shiver go down his spine. He could swear he heard someone whispering to him.
It's not time yet.
But it will be, sometime.
Wait for me, Lan Zhan.
"I will."