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Lan Zhan has not seen nor heard from Wei Ying in over a month when he returns to Yiling.
The town is no different to how Lan Zhan had left it, in the market stalls lining the streets and the tea house on the corner - he can almost see Wei Ying running at him while A-Yuan clutched at his leg, and closes his eyes against the flush of humiliation at how little he understood the child at first.
But Wei Ying won't be in town today: he is not the person Lan Zhan has come here to see - though he is the reason.
A message, a talisman crafted by Wei Ying's hand, but sent by Wen Qing, had found its way into Lan Zhan's hand as he had been meditating one morning last week. It was a similar talisman to the one he'd seen when Wei Ying cut their meal short those few weeks ago, though time has evolved the craft, and the message it relays isn't a simple urge for help - it's a fully worded message, and Lan Zhan hears it in Wen Qing's soft voice, and hears her plea for help in the tone. She had asked him to meet her in the town, claiming that she had something to discuss regarding Wei Wuxian, one that she would rather speak of in person. She had been quick to add that he was safe, but still Lan Zhan had worried. Perhaps, when it comes to Wei Ying, he always will.
Possibly against his own better judgement; definitely against his uncle's - he had agreed to meet her, and now, here he is, glancing about for a sign of her out in the street before he steps into the tea house.
She sits inside, at a table, and stands to greet him when he arrives.
“Hanguang-Jun,” she says, bowing her head. “Thank you for meeting me.”
He nods silently, and takes the seat she gestures towards, opposite her. “How is he?” he asks, forgetting all of his manners in his worry.
Her lips become a thin, tight line - Lan Zhan doesn't believe it's because of his hasty forgetfulness, but he makes a note to himself to redeem himself later and ask how she is - when he knows what's going on.
“Wei Wuxian is -” she hesitates. “Unreachable.”
“How so?”
After another second's pause, she speaks. “He doesn't sleep. Not for any length of time, anyway. I hear him sometimes, in the early hours, playing Chenqing. And when he does sleep it's - interrupted, at best. At worst, he suffers from night terrors. I only found out by accident - sound doesn't usually travel from where he sleeps - but I was looking for something early one morning and I saw. But any time I try to bring it up, he brushes it off. He won't accept my help. I've tried to medicate him - tried herbs to help him sleep, everything I can, but he's wise to my tricks, and he won't let me. But as the time goes on, he's less and less present. He's twitchy and irritable and he -” she shifts her gaze to Lan Zhan, then quickly away.
Lan Zhan can only stare, at first, somewhat dumbfounded, and somewhat afraid at the same time.
"I can cope with him being irritable," Wen Qing continues eventually. "I'm used to it, we all are, but I think - I think the Yin Tiger Seal's hold on him is getting stronger the less he sleeps. And I'm not sure how to help him."
Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen at his fears realised, still fixed in that same stare. He comes to a decision within seconds.
"Take me to see him."
Wen Qing nods with a tight-lipped smile, a hint of gratefulness. "I take it I don't need to tell you to be delicate with the subject?"
Lan Zhan tilts his head, acknowledging her words for what they are.
They walk in silence, through overgrown tracks slashed through with tree roots and barricaded by branches. Lan Zhan is reminded of a single log bridge, and almost smiles to himself as he walks, the scenery lending itself to that of his memory, though he could not say with certainty whether he could find this way alone.
As it happens, his arrival to their almost-village is clearly marked by a heavy weight around his leg.
"A-Yuan," Madam Wen's voice reaches them from across the courtyard. "Come back over here."
"It's the rich man!" A-Yuan says excitedly, clinging on tight to Lan Zhan's leg, as if he had heard Madam Wen say nothing at all. "Are you staying for dinner today?"
Lan Zhan makes sure his expression is not so stern as it was when he first met A-Yuan. “Mm,” is all he says - because he's not sure. Wei Ying could take one look at him and send him away, refusing all help like he so often does.
Wen Qing shakes her head and leans down to lift A-Yuan, resting him on her hip. “A-Yuan, other people's legs are not your chairs.”
“But he likes when I sit on his leg!”
Lan Zhan lets a tiny smile show on his face, briefly regretting that he hadn't brought any more toys for A-Yuan.
He tunes out the rest of the conversation happening beside him, and fixes his eyes on the Demon Subdue Palace, wondering what reaction he'll find inside. There's a sort of plan building in his head as to how to approach - he's learned from past mistakes, being too forward with his suggestions for Wei Ying to return home with him, but he has to do something. He can't let Wei Ying be overcome by resentful energy.
He feels Wen Qing's eyes on him. “He'll be in there, by the blood pool,” she says, nodding towards the Demon Subdue Palace. “I think he was still trying to perfect his Compass of Evil.”
Lan Zhan nods, and strides across the courtyard, only hesitating when he reaches the mouth of the cave. He steadies himself - though he hadn't lost balance - on the stone wall beside him, and listens out for any sign of movement within.
Nothing comes, and so he walks forward, finding himself to be almost nervous of what he'll find inside, though he knows, rationally, that Wen Qing has said he's okay, if a little irritable. He knows Wei Ying's irritability well, and knows he has nothing to fear, only the twisted sort of comfort it will bring him to know it's really him, but -
Still, he doesn't know what to expect, when he walks in.
It's dimly lit inside, as he remembers. The talismans still hang in front of the blood pool, but there are more now, littered around, hung on walls and crumpled on the floor and scattered across the rock that seems to substitute as a workbench.
The rock is where Wei Ying sits - slumps, really - his back to the entrance, his legs stretched out to the side, and his head almost falling onto his arm, eyes half closed. Even if Wen Qing hadn't told him that Wei Ying wasn't sleeping at night, it wouldn't be hard to tell from this sight. He can almost see the dust gathering on the straw bed in the corner.
He walks further in, and his footsteps catch Wei Ying's attention, bringing him round. He raises his head, looking up at the back wall.
“Wen Qing, I said I'll go down into town tomorrow. Surely the radishes can wait one day,” he groans, without turning.
Lan Zhan stays silent, unsure how to correct him without seeming impolite. Perhaps Wen Qing should have come in first, and asked Wei Ying whether he would see him, or perhaps coming was a bad idea, now that he thinks of it.
“What are you st- Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying turns and sees him, and his demeanour shifts rapidly. A slow, shocked smile spreads across his face, and he stands, his legs shaking a little. “I thought you were -”
“Wen Qing,” Lan Zhan nods.
Wei Ying gives a self-conscious laugh. “Yeah, I - anyway, what brings you here? I didn’t think I -” he shakes his head as if clearing his own thoughts. “It’s good to see you.”
Lan Zhan hums his agreement - “likewise” or “it's good to see you too” or ”I missed you” are all things that he doesn't know how to voice out loud. But then - he doesn't exactly know what to tell Wei Ying about why he's here, either. He can't lie, it's against everything he believes in, and for that matter he's terrible at it - but he knows, too, that the wrong words could shatter any opportunity he has of helping Wei Ying, and -
Helping Wei Ying might be the one thing he holds above all of his principles. Above telling the truth, and above the righteous path, and above everything he's ever been taught, everything he's ever learnt in a book in the library pavilion of cloud recesses.There's a terrifying compulsion to his desires towards Wei Ying. He's never needed anything more.
He's confined by the past of his family, and doomed to repeat the mistakes of his parents.
Wei Ying walks closer to him, a calculating smirk now playing on his lips in the wake of Lan Zhan's silence. “Why are you here, Lan Zhan? Are you checking up on me?”
“No,” Lan Zhan replies quickly, because he doesn't have to lie to answer that question.
“Huh,” Wei Ying says thoughtfully. “Well, I bet A-Yuan was happy to see you, anyway.”
“But you're not?” It slips out in a wave of loose-tongued panic.
“I didn't say that,” Wei Ying replies, leisurely like the answer doesn't matter. He paces a few steps away. “You've got that look about you,” he adds eventually, turning back to face Lan Zhan, his smirk edged with defensiveness now, even a touch of cruelty. “Like you're here to meddle in things that don't concern you.”
Lan Zhan stiffens. “You said you'd let me help you.”
“Help me what, exactly? What is it that the great Hanguang-Jun thinks I'm struggling with?”
It's gone wrong so fast. Lan Zhan didn't even manage a good start, let alone a good result. Not even a few seconds of the sweet, wistful conversation about times gone by that he'd hoped Wei Ying would indulge him in.
“Wei Ying,” he says, maintaining his calm exterior, though if Wei Ying knows him as well as he once did, he'll see through to the heart of it, to the tremor in the tail of his words, the uncertainty in his voice.
“Wei Wuxian!” Wen Qing's voice rings bright through the cave as she enters behind Lan Zhan. “If I can remember to buy tea in town, you can remember your manners in front of a guest.”
Sure enough, she's carrying a tray of a steaming pot and two cups. Lan Zhan can smell the faint calming aroma from where he stands. He turns to her, and gives her a grateful look, which she smiles at.
“You bought tea?” Wei Ying asks, skepticism lacing his tone. “What happened to “we won't have more guests?”
“Well, that changed when I ran into Hanguang-Jun, didn't it?” she replies smoothly, walking to the low wooden table on the far side of the cave. “Are you going to be a good host, or do I have to pour the tea as well?”
Wei Ying lets out a long suffering sigh, and follows behind her. “I'll do it.”
Wen Qing nods at him, putting the tray down, and leaves with only a gentle smile at Lan Zhan. He wants to communicate to her that he's sorry - that he might not be the best person to do this after all, but there's no opportunity to say that in front of Wei Ying.
Wei Ying sighs again, and flops down into a seat without waiting for Lan Zhan, taking one of the cups from the tray and filling it from the pot and pushing it towards the seat opposite him. Lan Zhan walks around the table and sits.
“How's this for service?” Wei Ying asks, filling his own cup and raising it in a brief toast - one that verges on mocking, but Lan Zhan doesn't dwell on it, and joins him in drinking. “Okay, fine, Lan Zhan, I'll have my manners. But I know what's new in the cultivation world anyway,” he hesitates, his expression softening. “How was the wedding? How did my shijie look? I know she was beautiful but-” he shakes his head, cutting himself off. “Especially next to that peacock. But tell me about it, anyway.”
Lan Zhan hesitates for a moment.
“They looked as bride and groom should,” he replies eventually, unsure of how much Wei Ying wants to know - how much he thinks he wants to know versus how much he’s ready to hear - and how much Lan Zhan knows how to express.
“I forget you’re the wrong person to ask,” Wei Ying replies, laughing lightly, but at least all trace of the hardened edge he had had is gone now - he’s the Wei Ying that Lan Zhan knows and trusts again, and Lan Zhan feels his tension leave him, though it stays in the room, a cloud of it just a little way out of his body, ready to rush back in at a second’s notice.
“But I suppose it’s as good an answer as I’ll get,” Wei Ying continues. “I can imagine the rest.” He looks away, saddened. “As long as that peacock is treating her as well as she deserves.”
“I believe Jiang Wanyin is making sure of that.”
Wei Ying snorts. “Yeah, he better be. Otherwise I'll- never mind.”
He doesn't seem angry at the mention of the man who he's rumoured to be irreconcilable with. He seems instead to be imagining he's teasing him - not that Lan Zhan really believed the rumours that were spread about their fight.
Wei Ying looks down at the table, smiling ruefully, and Lan Zhan lets the silence linger - he's never known how to do anything else. But the silence brings Wei Ying's questions back.
“Why did you come? Why did Wen Qing find you in Yiling?”
Lan Zhan clears his throat. “Passing through,” he tries, but with the sight of Wei Ying ready to interrupt, he starts again hastily. “I'm not here to ask you to give up anything,” he manages, hoping that Wei Ying sees the truth in his words now. “I won't ask you to leave this place, or your people.”
Wei Ying's eyes are narrowed, but a tiny, teasing smile appears back on his face. “Can we even talk without you asking me to give up something?”
“We can,” Lan Zhan replies, more forceful than he had intended, and the look Wei Ying gives him in return is surprised, though he laughs.
“And can you be straightforward about what you're actually doing here, then?”
Lan Zhan sighs, knowing that he can't stall any longer. “I - Wen Qing sent me a message talisman, a few days ago.”
A flash of panic appears in Wei Ying's eyes, but he covers it up with a quick laugh. “So that's where it went. I knew I had it somewhere.”
Lan Zhan looks pointedly over at Wei Ying's workbench. “You think you'd find it in that chaos?”
“Hey, I know my own system.”
Lan Zhan gives a disbelieving hum.
“So are you going to tell me what Wen Qing asked you about? How slowly do we have to have this conversation? Just get it-”
“You haven't been sleeping,” Lan Zhan interrupts.
Wei Ying stops dead, smile fading from his face as he turns his head slowly to meet Lan Zhan's eyes. “Oh, haven't I?”
Refusing to rise to it, Lan Zhan continues. “You haven't. Not enough. Wen Qing hears Chenqing late into the night, and you've been irritable and,” he pauses to consider his next words. “She says you have terrors.”
He doesn't get a reply when he finishes, just Wei Ying's steadily burning gaze, furious and fearful all at once.
“No,” Wei Ying manages eventually, cracks appearing in his facade and his voice all at once. “No, you - no. It's nothing to do with you whether I - I'm fine,” one last crack in his voice, and he cuts himself off. When his voice returns, it's barely audible, and close to tears. “I'm fine.”
“Wei Ying,” is all Lan Zhan knows how to say - but he pours everything into it, all of his care, and his understanding, all of his I know yous.
“No,” Wei Ying's voice is still weak as he shakes his head. “Why would she tell you this, why would she - what did she tell you?”
“That she's worried about you,” Lan Zhan replies. “That she thinks you're - slipping.”
“And she thought I would listen to you about it? Who always wants me to come back to Gusu and relearn the art of sword cultivation so that I don't go into qi deviation? She thought I would take your advice and rejoin the righteous path?” He stands, almost kicking the seat from under him, and Lan Zhan stands too, if only so that he can catch up to Wei Ying quickly should he try to flee. “She would have me, what, listen to Cleansing a hundred times a day, just to -”
“She would have you know that you are cared for,” Lan Zhan interrupts, quietly commanding as he knows how to be. “That your pain affects those who love you.”
It doesn't have the desired effect - or perhaps it does, in the widening of Wei Ying's eyes, the catch of his breath - but he hides those as fast as he lets them slip.
“Who says I'm in pain?” he demands, turning away from Lan Zhan and pacing across the stone floor. “Maybe I'm just surviving, Lan Zhan. Maybe I'm doing all I can just to forg-”
He stops suddenly, five steps from Lan Zhan, his back still to him, and his shoulders tense, shaking a little.
“Maybe I'm - maybe I'm fine,” he says eventually. “How would anyone know if I wasn't?”
Lan Zhan walks the five paces, and stands behind Wei Ying, his hand finding Wei Ying's wrist. “I know you,” he says, low pitched and simple.
Wei Ying turns his head, looking at Lan Zhan over his shoulder, out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you?" He asks, the hurt in his voice louder than anything Lan Zhan has heard before.
"I want to help you."
"You always say that."
"Do you think I lie to you?"
Wei Ying lowers his head, deep in thought. "Maybe you don't know what you want."
Lan Zhan tightens his grip on Wei Ying's wrist. "I want to help you," he repeats.
Wei Ying turns, so that he's facing Lan Zhan, the fear and anger in his expression having faded into confusion.
"Why?"
Lan Zhan looks into his eyes, deep, searching the reason that Wei Ying doesn't understand. But, beneath the confusion, behind the fear, Lan Zhan sees hope. Wei Ying knows the answer. He just needs to hear it again.
"Because I do know you," Lan Zhan says, and breathes in courage to say the next words, though he's sure of the truth in them. "And you know me. In this life, we know each other."
"Do you still believe that? Even now?"
"I do."
A smile, tiny and shaking, appears on Wei Ying's face. He twists his wrist in Lan Zhan's hand, and uses the way Lan Zhan loosens his grip as a result to pull his hand upwards, and lock his fingers with Lan Zhan's. squeezing tight. His smile widens, and he's so close now, barely half a foot of space between them. Lan Zhan could imagine anything here, each possibility stealing his breath more than the last.
"Okay," Wei Ying says, letting go of Lan Zhan's hand with one final squeeze, and breaking the moment of possibilities, frustrating him though it's for the best. "Okay. Then how do you want to help me? Do you really think it's so easy?"
“Do you think so little of me, that I only do what’s easy?” Lan Zhan replies. “What about what’s right?”
“There are more righteous causes than I.”
Lan Zhan blinks. He had not been expecting that answer, in all of its fallacy. He shakes his head. “Not right now, there aren’t. Not to me.”
Wei Ying sighs out a laugh, and looks down. “Lan Zhan,” he breathes out, awe in his voice. “You -” he shakes his head. “Help me, then. Tell me where to start.”
“Sit back down,” Lan Zhan instructs. “Let me play for you.”
“It won’t-”
“Let me try.”
*
Sitting in lotus position with his eyes closed, Wei Ying looks to be at peace. But he's well practiced at hiding what's true, and Lan Zhan could never be sure. He wishes he could. With all his heart, he wishes that.
Lan Zhan plays Cleansing for him, drawing calm into the dim cave. Even the blood pool seems to settle somewhat, though it's probably Lan Zhan's own perceptions reacting to the music.
As he draws to a close, Wei Ying's eyes flicker open, and a soft smile appears on his face as he meets Lan Zhan's gaze.
Lan Zhan is desperate to ask if it helped at all, but more keen on preserving the tranquility of the moment, so he simply maintains his gaze, drinking Wei Ying in, all of his peaceful beauty, the gentle tilt to his smile and the depth of his breathing. All of the parts to him that Lan Zhan knows as him, all the things he uses to reason to himself that this, playing for him, helped.
But the moment does fade, even in the quiet stillness. The world returns to being around them, and he begins to hear the sounds from outside of the Wens preparing for dinner.
“Will you stay?” Wei Ying asks quietly. “I'm afraid A-Yuan's admiration of me depends on it. If I let you go now, he'll never forgive me.”
Lan Zhan nods once, trying to control the upwards turn of his lips. It’s not as if he could refuse A-Yuan.
*
The Wens are more than a little flustered at his presence, it seems. Even in the outreaches of the Wen Clan, they know of the Twin Jades - and they know the Hanguang-Jun who visited a few weeks ago, standing stern on the edge of their celebrations of Wen Ning's consciousness, and, it occurs to Lan Zhan now, that they couldn’t have known for sure that he wasn’t there to turn them in.
He sits, silent beside Wei Ying, meeting none of their eyes, and hoping that Wei Ying’s easy smile will comfort them about his presence. Wen Qing joins them at the table, and there’s a little tension released when she smiles.
But it’s only when a heavy weight lands in his lap, along with a toy butterfly in front of his eyes, that the room seems to exhale.
Madam Wen hurries over to him. “Hanguang-Jun, I’m sorry, he-”
Lan Zhan shakes his head. “Let him sit,” he says, as he had when he was with Wei Ying in the tea house. Madam Wen bows her head and takes the last seat at the table with them, as A-Yuan giggles and holds the butterfly out to Lan Zhan. He takes it, and diverts his attention to the child for a while, though the way Wei Ying looks at him, fond and - can he say it - no, he daren't - but it does not escape his notice.
*
“I’ve never seen A-Yuan so reluctant to go to bed,” Wei Ying says later that evening. “You’ve really won him over. I think I’m a little jealous.”
“Of whom?” Lan Zhan asks before he can stop himself. Wei Ying just laughs and turns away.
It’s close to dark, and Lan Zhan has no idea whether Wei Ying meant for him to stay here for the night.
It’s for the best if he leaves, though, and stays at an inn in Yiling - if he leaves now, he can get there fast enough that it won’t be long past dark when he arrives. He tightens his grip on Bichen, and faces Wei Ying - faces his side, because he’s still turned away, occupying himself with something - or what, in truth, seems like nothing - on the stone table.
“Wei Ying,” he says and barely pauses to ensure he has his attention before continuing. “I need to find an inn in Yiling before night.”
Wei Ying stills, but doesn’t turn. “Stay here,” he says plainly.
“Where?”
Wei Ying looks towards his own straw bed, then back at Lan Zhan. “You can use that. I won’t need -” he cuts off at the sight of Lan Zhan’s stern look. “Okay, okay, okay. But I can sleep on the floor. It won't be the first time," he grins. "Remember Dafan Mountain? Xuanwu's cave? I'm good at this by now."
“I am just as practiced,” Lan Zhan replies, resigned to staying now, though he doesn't intend to let Wei Ying take the floor - he remembers those few nights well, and he knows full well that the rest from a night's sleep on a stone floor is nowhere close to a bed, even one as roughly made as the one in the corner.
“Ah, not quite, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying shakes his head. “That bed hasn't lived here as long as I.”
“You will not sleep on the floor.”
“If Wen Qing were to find out that I let a guest sleep on the floor, she'd-”
“Understand. She was the one who asked me here.”
“But -” he shakes his head, rolling his eyes, then looks back at the bed. “Well, it's not so small a bed for two, I suppose.”
Lan Zhan's eyes widen for a second, until he understands that his discomfort is exactly what Wei Ying is counting on to change his mind. Before Wei Ying turns back to smirk at him, he rearranges his expression to one of calm. “Very well,” he says, triumphant at the way that it's Wei Ying's turn for his eyes to widen.
“That's settled then,” Wei Ying says, quickly seeming at ease again. “We'll share.”
“Mn,” says Lan Zhan, briefly wondering what it is he's gotten himself into.
*
The bed isn't so small, but nor does it feel as big as Lan Zhan hoped it would. He lies back on the pillow, as far to the edge as he can get, and stays tense. Wei Ying sits beside him, as though he’s about to lie back, but hasn’t got there yet. Perhaps, though, he isn't intending it - waiting for Lan Zhan to drop off before he escapes the situation.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan starts. “What would help you sleep?”
Wei Ying laughs instead of answering. It’s a hollow laugh, a defeated sound, and Lan Zhan would do anything to never hear it again. He sits up, his shoulder now pressing against Wei Ying’s, and though Wei Ying doesn’t move away, it feels tense, as if he’d move if only he could.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again. “You’ve done so much for these people-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Wei Ying warns, “I’m not leaving them. Without me, they’d have no protection.”
“You misunderstand me,” Lan Zhan replies. “They need you. I’ve already told you I wouldn’t ask you to give that up.”
“How could I trust you?” Wei Ying snaps. “It’s what you do, Lan Zhan, you come and ask to help me, and then you realise you could never believe in my ability to control this. And then you go back to your clan, and meet with the other clans, and they all want these people dead, these people who’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing.” He pushes back the sheet and stands. “I can’t do this. I can’t let you - I can’t.” He’s facing away from Lan Zhan now, but the frustrated tears are audible.
Lan Zhan moves quickly to join Wei Ying, standing behind him with the distance between them as small as he can bear to make it. He starts to reach for Wei Ying’s hand, but loses courage at the last second and circles his wrist instead.
“Trust me,” he says quietly.
Wei Ying turns to him, his breathing shaky. “I can’t trust anyone.”
Lan Zhan looks down, searching for the words to convince him, but he’s saved from needing to by a quiet confession.
“I know I’m slipping,” Wei Ying says, and Lan Zhan tightens his hand instinctively, loosening it almost immediately when he realises how it must feel to Wei Ying.
“But I just need to adjust,” Wei Ying continues. “Once I get used to living here again - I’ll be fine once I can be certain it’s safe.”
“Is it not already?”
“Yes - no - it is,” Wei Ying sighs before he continues. “It’s safe. I know it’s safe. Nothing can hurt the Wens as long as I’m here.”
“But it can hurt you?” He’s so familiar with the spaces in Wei Ying’s words by now.
Wei Ying pulls his wrist out of Lan Zhan’s grip, and turns away, leaning both hands down on the stone table and sighing deeply. “It can’t reach me behind the wards.” It sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself.
And Lan Zhan understands - all of the fears that Wei Ying can’t bring himself to admit to, all of the things that happened, the place he’d been for three months that he wouldn’t talk about after they found him. There had been the rumours, of course, and deep down everyone had sort-of-known, that this is where he had been - otherwise, how else would he have known where to come with the Wens this time?
But as for what had happened here, well, Wei Ying is well practiced at hiding what’s true. Well practiced at disguising his pain.
Lan Zhan has to grit his teeth to disguise his own at the thought of Wei Ying's, threatening to slip forth in water from his eyes. Now is not the time for that.
“I’m told,” he says, his voice strained. “That I’m one of the most accomplished cultivators of my generation.”
The tone shifts. Wei Ying turns, giving Lan Zhan a withering look. “Is that relevant?”
“With me here,” Lan Zhan continues, trying to keep his voice even. “Nothing will hurt you.”
Wei Ying smirks. “Oh, you’re going to keep me safe? Am I so helpless that I need Hanguang-Jun’s protection?”
“You aren’t,” Lan Zhan replies smoothly. “But perhaps I can help you be certain of your safety.” Without waiting for an answer, he turns away. “Come back to bed,” he instructs, imagining that he can hear Wei Ying’s responding smile.
It doesn’t take long for Wei Ying to join him, sliding in beside him under the sheet, their sides pressed together. Wei Ying glances at him, turning his head to the side, and hums as if in thought. Then, with little warning, he takes one of Lan Zhan’s hands from where they rest on his chest.
“Well,” he says at Lan Zhan’s responding eyebrow raise. “How am I meant to remember you’re there if I don’t hold on to you?”
Tiredness dulls his ability to completely hide his smile, and he gets Wei Ying’s triumphant grin in return.
*
He wakes, long past midnight, to restless movement from beside him.
Wei Ying is rigid beside him, twisting his head this way and that, beads of sweat appearing on his brow as he whimpers “no, no, please. Please.”
Lan Zhan is frozen still for a second, before he comes to understand what he’s seeing. This is one of the night terrors that Wen Qing spoke of. His chest tightens, seeing Wei Ying so in pain, and he pulls himself to a sitting position.
“Shijie, Shijie, help, please, help me,” he’s louder now, more insistent.
Lan Zhan doesn’t know how to help him like this. Would anything get through to him, trapped in the dream? Should he wake and calm him?
It’s clear that Wei Ying holding onto him didn’t help, though he still has Lan Zhan’s fingers in a vice-like grip. Lan Zhan lets him keep that - perhaps there’s something to be said of it. With his free hand, he reaches for Wei Ying’s chest, finding his heartbeat. It’s elevated beyond belief, and seems to only be getting faster as the minutes pass.
“A-Cheng, I had to,” he’s saying now. “Please, I had to, I-”
He breaks off again and wrenches his hand from Lan Zhan’s, both of his hands flying up to protect his face from something Lan Zhan can’t see. Lan Zhan flinches back, drawing his hands into himself now.
“Stop, please!” Wei Ying cries. Then, softer again. “Lan Zhan, please. Help me.”
Lan Zhan’s gaze snaps to Wei Ying’s eyes, trying to ascertain whether he’s awake now, but he still sleeps, restless and disrupted, but still unwoken.
So Lan Zhan does the only thing he really knows how to do; fetches his guqin.
He sits cross-legged beside the bed, and softly plays Cleansing , keeping his eyes fixed on Wei Ying, still tossing and turning even as the music fills the air. Lan Zhan presses his eyes shut, and continues, pushing everything he can into the notes.
It's not enough. Over the sounds of the music, he can still hear Wei Ying's cries and whimpers, his pleas for help.
How can he help? What can he do?
A memory of Xuanwu's Cave comes, unbidden, into his mind, and the notes that he plays change into the notes of the song he had played then, gentle and wistful, all of his love.
Perhaps it's audible in the music - in fact, he knows it is.
Wei Ying finally calms, his breath evening out, and Lan Zhan lets out a sigh of relief. He plays to the end of the song, then returns the guqin to it's case, and moves back to the bed. He's hesitant in touching Wei Ying, unsure if he'll be disturbed by the contact, so to start he sits carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to cause too much movement. Only when he has paused for a while to hear Wei Ying's breathing remain constant does he move further, lifting the sheet and climbing under it.
To his relief, Wei Ying stays calm, sleeping through the movement, and Lan Zhan settles back beside him, keeping his hand within Wei Ying's reach in case he wants to take it again.
*
In the morning, Wei Ying wakes, a while after Lan Zhan has vacated the bed and moved to the floor of the cave to meditate. At first, he only sits up in bed, drawing Lan Zhan's attention with only the movement, but as he blinks, and comes into wakefulness, he tenses.
“Lan Zhan,” he says quietly. “Last night…”
“Do you remember it?” Lan Zhan asks sharply. He had been so sure Wei Ying was sleeping through it. Considering the possibility that he remembers all the pain he had been in - it's unthinkable.
Wei Ying looks down and shakes his head slowly. “Not exactly. But I know I… Lan Zhan did I wake you?”
Lan Zhan looks down. “Mn,” is all he says.
Wei Ying sighs. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.”
Wei Ying smiles softly. “No, I guess you signed up for this, didn't you?”
“Yes, I did.”
The smile makes it worth it.
*
Later that morning, Lan Zhan follows Wei Ying and Wen Ning down to Yiling.
He stands awkwardly as they find a free space at the side of the street, and Wei Ying laughs as he looks up at him.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you don't look enough like a farmer to be selling radishes,” he says. “Wen Ning, you can handle this alone, can't you?” He stands without waiting for an answer, and joins Lan Zhan.
Wen Ning nods vigorously, and Wei Ying smiles. “Good! Lan Zhan, we'll go and buy food. If there's an extra mouth to feed for a while, we'll need more.”
The horrible realisation that he's taking from people that already don't have much hits him hard.
“Wei Ying, I don't have to stay.”
“Nonsense,” Wei Ying says, almost falsely upbeat. “Consider it payback for last time, for me running away without paying.”
Lan Zhan let the corners of his mouth lift a little, and Wei Ying starts off down the street, grinning. Lan Zhan catches up to him quickly, falling into step beside him with ease. It occurs to him that if he accompanies Wei Ying to the market stalls, he can at least contribute to the costs - whether Wei Ying allows it or not.
“How long will you stay?” Wei Ying asks, looking resolutely forward as he walks, so that Lan Zhan has no way of understanding the intent of his words.
“How long will you have me?” he asks carefully.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you're the one with responsibilities waiting for you,” Wei Ying says. “If not for them, stay as long as you can stomach a radish-based diet.”
The only thing waiting for Lan Zhan, in actual fact, is kneeling outside in the snow and waiting for the realisation to come that Wei Ying is evil - though by now he knows it never will. He wonders how long it will be this time that he's forced to kneel - perhaps longer than a day. Perhaps he'll be made to kneel until he collapses, and his uncle will try to persuade him it's Wei Ying's fault. Perhaps he will be sent to the back hills; perhaps he will even be whipped for his insubordination. His association with 'evil.'
'Evil' could not be a further description from the man smiling beside him.
It occurs to him, though, that neither of them has really answered each other's question. But since Wei Ying does not push the subject, Lan Zhan stays silent, content to walk beside Wei Ying.
After a while of walking in silence, Wei Ying stops still in the middle of the street, his eyes closing as if preparing for humiliation.
“Lan Zhan,” he says slowly. “Before you say anything - please know that this is nothing to do with me, okay?”
Lan Zhan's brow furrows for a second, before he glances towards where Wei Ying had been looking. A street vendor has just arrived, dressed all in black, with a red ribbon in his hair - reminiscent of how Wei Ying himself dresses. The vendor has raised a crimson flag beside him, with black lettering that reads “Yiling Patriarch, The Supreme Lord.”
“They make my talismans, and sell them by the dozen,” Wei Ying explains. “Honestly, if I were any poorer, I'd consider doing it myself, people fall for it like you wouldn't believe, and the amount they're willing to give…” he tails off. “But really, the Supreme Lord? Is that how arrogant people think I am?”
Lan Zhan hesitates, tempted to smile. “Do you want me to answer that?”
“Ha! No, I suppose I don't.”
*
That night, after midnight, instead of waking to find Wei Ying thrashing around, Lan Zhan awakes to find Wei Ying gone. For a moment, panic consumes him, until he registers the distant sound of Chenqing.
So, Wei Ying is safe, and he has not gone far. Cold comfort.
Is this any better than the disturbance to his sleep? It seems more likely to Lan Zhan that it's in anticipation of the terrors, that he would rather not sleep than endure them, or perhaps not sleep rather than trouble Lan Zhan with them - that seems more likely still.
He finds Wei Ying on the roof of the building, playing Chenqing to the stars above him. He doesn't notice Lan Zhan at first; he's looking at the sky, and his playing is loud enough to cover any sound Lan Zhan might make by walking out to him.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan calls to him, finally louder than the music.
There's a moment silence, Wei Ying stops playing but stills with the flute still at his lips, and then, a sigh, and he twists his position so that his legs dangle over the edge of the roof, and he's looking down at Lan Zhan with a somewhat guilty smile, though it might be more regretful of the fact that he's been caught.
“Lan Zhan,” he replies. “Is there anything that gets past you?”
Lan Zhan doesn't answer, but joins him on the roof, sitting beside him, silent at first, though he rethinks when it becomes apparent that Wei Ying will not start the conversation either.
“You are not asleep.”
“I am not.”
“Did you try?”
“I did.”
“What happened?”
He's answered by a sigh. “Ah, you Lans. Always thinking there must be an answer to everything.”
“If you could tell me, I might better know how to help.”
“But I can't tell you, Lan Zhan,” frustration creeps into Wei Ying's tone. “You must realise this by now. I can't.”
Lan Zhan hesitates, then nods.
“Is this where you finally give up?” Wei Ying asks, and his tone is so mixed that Lan Zhan can't decipher his meaning - he's hopeful, but at the same time fearful, and upset. He laughs, humourlessly. “See me for the hopeless case that I am?”
“Never,” Lan Zhan replies, hiding his panic at the question with his practiced calm exterior. “I'm here to help you.”
Wei Ying hangs his head, sighing out a frustrated huff of laughter. “Stubborn.”
“Perhaps.”
“Oh, at this point it's not a question, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan lets a trace of amusement show on his face, and slips into easy silence. For now, it seems like the best option. He could try and persuade Wei Ying back to bed, but it seems that the only results he would get from that would be a newly empty bed within the hour.
Words come to him, after a while of silence. “What was it that you were playing?” he asks. “I don't recognise it from any spiritual collections.” He draws to mind the forbidden collections in the Library Pavilion that he had managed to look through before being caught, and none of them match the notes that Wei Ying had played.
Wei Ying shakes his head. “No, it's nothing in particular,” he spins the flute in his fingertips. “But maybe it'll keep the ghosts away.” That hollow laugh, again. It twists in Lan Zhan's chest every time he hears it.
Lan Zhan summons his guqin. “Can you teach me it?”
The way Wei Ying looks at him then - it could hold Lan Zhan captive forever.
*
By the seventh day, Lan Zhan has found himself calming Wei Ying from night terrors thrice, and up on the roof with him five times. He hasn't had a single night of uninterrupted sleep - but if the thought ever occurs to him that he might give up, he suffocates it at inhuman speeds.
His time here has been enlightening, to say the least of it. Life in the Cloud Recesses is simple, and humble, but this - well, if it weren't for who he's living with, his uncle might even be proud of him for the way he's living with almost nothing.
He spends most of his time in the cave with Wei Ying, watching him experiment with talismans as he practices the sword - hoping beyond hope that the sight will encourage him to pick it back up, but though he gives Wei Ying significant looks, he had promised not to say anything, and Wei Ying pointedly looks the other way as he practices.
He plays Cleansing for Wei Ying every day, still receiving no answer as to it's effectiveness - but after a while, it seems to be that Wei Ying enjoys it, though whether because it helps or for some other reason, Lan Zhan doesn't know. Doesn't mind.
On the seventh day, he once again follows Wei Ying to Yiling with Wen Ning alongside them. Its a bright day, clear and warm, and Wei Ying is joyful, bouncing with energy in a still-dulled echo of how he used to be at Cloud Recesses.
But the way Lan Zhan sees him now more than makes up for the way his childish excitement has dimmed. He's beautiful like this, even with the darkness behind his eyes. Captivating in the way he twirls Chenqing around his fingers, and mesmerising in his self-assuredness, the way he holds himself as if the world belongs to him, and not the other way round.
Lan Zhan is so distracted walking a little way behind Wei Ying through the crowded street of Yiling, that he almost doesn't notice him come to a stop, and only just avoids walking into him.
He follows Wei Ying's line of sight, expecting another "Disciple of the Yiling Patriarch" but that's not what he finds.
At the end of the street, among street vendors and townsfolk, stands a man dressed in pale blue robes, with a white ribbon around his forehead, the twin to Lan Zhan's.
Lan Xichen catches Lan Zhan's eye, and gives him that look he has perfected, that one that says I think you're making a mistake here, but help me understand it so that I can guide you back to the right path.
Lan Zhan feels Wei Ying's eyes on him, and a second later, his hand on his arm.
"I'll be with Wen Ning," he says, and there's a plea in his tone that says don't turn us in, don't let him take us.
Lan Zhan nods, catches Wei Ying's eye briefly to reassure him, and then walks forward, greeting his brother with a bow.
"Wangji," Xichen sighs. "What are you doing?"
Lan Zhan answers with silence.
Xichen acknowledges it by pressing his lips together in unspoken discontent.
"Come with me to the teahouse," he says. "Speak with me there."
He starts to turn, but Lan Zhan stays still for the moment.
"Are there others with you?" he asks. Will Wei Ying be safe?
"I came alone," Xichen says. "Do not tell me you have lost your faith in me that easily."
Lan Zhan shakes his head, ashamed of himself. "Sorry, brother."
Another press of his lips together, and Xichen nods. "Come."
*
“Wangji,” Xichen only speaks after minutes of silence as they drink their tea. There's concern in his voice - as Lan Zhan expected. “You must realise that your absence would be noted.”
Lan Zhan stays silent.
“Uncle wanted to send ten or more disciples to fetch you,” he continues. “He would have had them tear apart the Burial Mounds in order to bring you home.”
Still silent, Lan Zhan looks down at the table.
“Come back home, Wangji.”
“No.”
“Wangji,” Xichen, a quiet urgency in his voice now. “Uncle won't be patient for much longer. Wei Wuxian is in danger if you stay.”
Lan Zhan looks up sharply. “This is my choice,” he says. “It's not for Uncle to take me away.”
“That's what you don't understand, Wangji, it is. He can and he will get you home. Our clan's reputation-”
“Is being judged on the false belief that Wei Ying is evil.”
“Maybe so,” Xichen replies, his tone betraying his disagreement. “But will you change that belief?”
”I don't concern myself with those people,” Lan Zhan replies dismissively.
“And if I were to agree with them?”
“Then we would be at odds.”
“Wangji,” Xichen sighs. “It cannot be argued that Wei Ying isn't dangerous.”
Lan Zhan hesitates for a moment, tempted to reveal to Xichen his true reasons for being here - to settle Wei Ying, decrease the danger he might pose - but it's not his place, not his truth to tell.
“You would have allowed me to bring him back to Cloud Recesses.”
“Hiding him there would have been easier than hiding the fact that you are absent.”
“So the other clans know already? It's too late to save the reputation anyway?”
“No,” Xichen admits. “But it's only a matter of time. Some of our disciples are close to those of other clans. If you come home with me today, we can excuse your absence, but any longer...” He tails off, and exhales. “If you return now, I will ensure that you won't be punished, but I can't hold Uncle off for much longer.”
Lan Zhan may be stubborn, but he does know when he's backed into a corner. Desperate, he tries to bargain. “Give me a week.”
Xichen narrows his eyes. “Three days.”
“Five.”
“Fine,” Xichen sighs. “Five.”
*
They're safely back at the Burial Mounds before Lan Zhan relays what was discussed to Wei Ying.
“He will not turn you in,” he says, and Wei Ying breathes out a sigh of relief, though he must have already guessed that. “But he asks that I return to Cloud Recesses in five days time, and assures that I will not be punished, though I may not be so free to return again.”
Wei Ying focusses on the part that Lan Zhan had deliberately tried to brush over.
“Punished? Lan Zhan, you were punished last time? Why did you return if you knew-”
“Do not dwell on it,” Lan Zhan replies quickly. “I have limited time in which to help you.”
He reaches out with two fingers to Wei Ying's wrist and feels out for his golden core. Before today, he hadn't tried this - he's no doctor, so it will perhaps be of no help, but the urge struck, and -
And -
Nothing.
Wei Ying has no golden core.
As soon as Wei Ying realises what he knows, he shoves Lan Zhan back with the force of twenty men. Lan Zhan crashes back into the wall behind him, stunned both by the realisation and the physical blow.
"Why did you do that?" Wei Ying's voice is eerily calm, devoid of all emotion and terrifying in its coldness. He steps forwards before Lan Zhan can collect himself enough to stand away from the wall, and his hand finds the base of Lan Zhan's neck. He doesn't hold tight, doesn't curl his fingers round, but he could. They both know he could.
"Wei Ying - you-”
"Who gave you permission to touch me like that, Lan Zhan?”
All Lan Zhan can do is take shallow breaths. Wei Ying's eyes are blazing, and Lan Zhan - he's feared for Wei Ying before now, he's been more scared than he could say watching what Wei Ying does to himself, how much harm he's caused himself, but this - this isn't fear for.
It's fear of.
His Wei Ying has transformed into someone else before his eyes. Someone who commands fear to be his servant, floods it into every available vessel, and yet, with all his rage, his voice becomes apathetic, quiet and smooth and threatening.
"What were you hoping to find?” he asks, almost mocking. “Answers? Some untapped source of spiritual energy that you could use to convince me to take up the sword again? Answer me, Lan Zhan. What did you think you would find?"
Lan Zhan just shakes his head, unable to speak. Wei Ying's hand threatens to hurt him, fingertips pressing down now.
"Well, now you know, don't you? Now you understand. You can tell everyone you want, tell my brother and sister, tell the Jin Clan why exactly it was that I rejected the sword. Tell my brother that this is why he still has one. Tell him he could unseal Suibian, if he wanted.”
His hand moves ever closer to causing injury, higher up on Lan Zhan's neck, and tighter. It's almost too much for him to think about; the truth of what Wei Ying sacrificed for Jiang Cheng almost slips past him.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan murmurs, as Wei Ying's fingers start to tighten on his throat. "I won't - I won't tell anyone."
"I don't trust you!" Wei Ying roars, lifting Lan Zhan by his neck, pinning him against the wall so that he's rapidly losing air by the second.
He can't speak now, even if he wanted to. Can't plead for Wei Ying to see what it is he's doing, to come back from this edge that he's gone over. To remind him that this - if this goes all the way, no amount of his wards and talismans could protect the Wens from Lan Zhan's family.
He can't apologise, he can't reassure. There's fire in Wei Ying's eyes, and the last thing Lan Zhan sees before his vision blacks out is blood dripping from Wei Ying's mouth.
*
When he returns to consciousness, Wen Qing is beside him, letting out a breath of relief when she sees him awake.
“Wen Qing,” Lan Zhan croaks, his throat bruised and sore, but the first thing he thinks of is how he's failed. “I didn't help him. I don't know how to help him.”
Wen Qing shakes her head, calming him. “He was doing better with you here. Just not -” she cuts herself off with a shake of her head. “He just wasn't ready for anyone to know that. I and Wen Ning are the only -” she sighs. “Were the only ones who knew. I think the shock - snapped something.”
“Where is he?”
“I sedated him,” she replies casually, glancing back to the bed where Wei Ying lies. “When I heard the shouting, I came in. You had just passed out, so I had to act fast.”
“Would - would he have-”
“No,” she says with certainty. “No, he was starting to come back to himself, by the time I sent him to sleep. That's why I had to sedate him.”
Lan Zhan struggles to sit up further, but Wen Qing puts a hand on his chest, a warning.
“What will you do?”
“What I came here to do,” Lan Zhan replies. “Help him.”
She relaxes, though doesn't remove her hand. “He will sleep for at least another four hours,” she says. “Let him.”
Lan Zhan nods, and she allows him to sit up. He lifts a hand to his neck, and feels the bruises in the shape of fingerprints.
Wen Qing stands. “Heal yourself,” she says, half commanding, half tentative, as though she's not sure he'll do as she asks. “Please don't let him see. It's going to be hard enough to -” she shakes her head. “I'll get you some dinner.”
*
He's certain that the bruises have faded by the time he takes a seat beside Wei Ying with his guqin in front of him. He plays through everything he can think of, Every song of clarity, every song that Wei Ying has taught him, every song he's written. There's no indication of the effect he's having, so deep in medicated sleep as Wei Ying is, but he continues anyway, because if he does nothing, he'll -
But eventually, he runs out of things to play and energy to play with, and energy to stop himself moving close to Wei Ying. He stands from the floor, and goes to sit down on the edge of the bed, his hips pressing lightly against Wei Ying's abdomen. He finds his heartbeat, for the reassurance that it's still there, then moves his hand to Wei Ying's forehead, brushing tender across his eyebrows then to his hair, and running his fingers lightly through the messy strands.
Wei Ying sleeps through his touch, but eventually the impoliteness of his behaviour catches up to him and he draws his hand back, slow and reluctant.
Only when there's no longer contact between them does Wei Ying wake, his eyes slowly opening, his demeanour peaceful at first. For a moment, Lan Zhan lets himself hope that Wei Ying doesn't remember, but his hope is shattered within seconds as Wei Ying first frowns, then widens his eyes at seeing Lan Zhan, sitting up hastily.
“Lan Zhan!” he exclaims. “Why are you here? What are you-”
“Hush,” Lan Zhan tells him, one hand on his arm. “Stay calm.”
“But-” Wei Ying cuts himself off, looking down and shaking his head deep in thought. “Did I dream it?” he becomes hopeful for a moment, and Lan Zhan is almost tempted to tell him that he did. “No, I know I didn't,” Wei Ying continues, then looks back up. “You shouldn't be here.”
He's not threatening, nowhere near. No, he's in shock, distressed at his own actions. Unable to understand why Lan Zhan has stayed, though Lan Zhan is sure he's explained it a thousand times now.
“Wei Ying,” he says. “I'm here.” You can't stop me, is what he wants to imply, but to say it out loud might be too close to inciting another argument.
“I hurt you,” Wei Ying whispers, reaching up and placing his hand to the side of Lan Zhan's neck, inches from where he had earlier, but so gentle this time, his thumb caressing the line of Lan Zhan's jaw. “Lan Zhan, how can you stand to -”
“Xian-gege!”
A-Yuan's excited voice reaches them as he races into the cave, reaching the bed and leaping up into Wei Ying's lap, shattering the moment, and any contact between them. Wei Ying's hand falls away.
“You were asleep so long, Xian-gege, Wen Ning thought you died.”
Wei Ying manages a smile and pinches A-Yuan's cheek. “Wen Ning is telling you stories, A-Yuan. You can't believe everything he says.”
“But he was really scared! He said you might not be able to look after us anymore!”
“Well, you can go tell him he was wrong, okay? I'm perfectly fine. I had Lan Zhan here to look after me. Go on,” he says, trying to encourage A-Yuan off his lap.
“No! I want to stay here!”
“A-Yuan,” Wei Ying says sternly. “Wen Ning needs you to tell him everything's okay, can you do that for him?”
A-Yuan crosses his arms with a “hmph!”
“Go on,” Wei Ying repeats, lifting A-Yuan down to the floor, nudging him away.
A-Yuan turns, and races back out, calling “Wen Ning! Wen Ning! Xian-gege woke up!”
Lan Zhan waits for him to be gone before he turns back to Wei Ying. “Are you? Fine?”
Wei Ying gives him a brilliant smile, scarred all over with falsehood. “Ah, Lan Zhan, aren't I always?”
Lan Zhan doesn't justify it with an answer, just an unamused raise of his eyebrow. He realises, though, that if he doesn't speak, Wei Ying will do nothing to continue the conversation.
“Wei Ying,” he starts, knowing that this is a weak way to begin, and a conversation that Wei Ying might refuse to have. “Why don't you trust me? Why can't you?”
“I -” Wei Ying stops himself immediately, looking down.
Lan Zhan keeps his silence, now, hoping that it will open up the possibility of Wei Ying filling it.
“I don't understand why you stay,” Wei Ying confesses quietly. “What reason could you have, especially now, to want to be around me? Beyond that you'll somehow persuade me back into decent society, into betraying the family I have here?” he pauses, inhaling, as if building courage to continue. “And I - I still let you stay. Even though all of these lives here could be at stake - I want too much from you to let you go.”
At first, Lan Zhan can't get his thoughts in order enough to reply, but with Wei Ying putting one hand on the bedsheet and making to stand, he speaks quickly, putting his hand back on Wei Ying's arm to keep him there.
“Do you not wonder,” he starts tentatively. “Whether our reasons - mine for staying, and yours for letting me - might be the same?”
Wei Ying's breath catches, but he hides it quickly. “If they were, it would be a great deal more than I deserve.”
“Maybe that's-”
“I'm not good for you, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying interrupts. “I know what my effect is on you, and on this world, I know I'm too far gone to save,” he lets out a sound akin to a sob. “I know that - if I weren't protecting these people, my only purpose would be to destroy the Yin Tiger Seal, and cast myself from some great height to put an end to-”
“Wei Ying!” He can't listen to this - he refuses to. “Wei Ying,” he says again, quieter now, tightening his grip on Wei Ying's arm. “You are wrong.”
Wei Ying meets his gaze, tears in his eyes. “I should have been killed by Wen Zhuliu, before you or Jiang Cheng ever found me.”
Lan Zhan shakes his head, unable to speak at first. He lifts his free hand, hesitant, and cups Wei Ying's face, using his thumb to wipe away Wei Ying's tears. “No,” he says. “You are wrong.”
“You're the only one outside of here who thinks that,” Wei Ying says.
“Then let that be enough for you.”
“Lan Zhan-”
“You are a good person, Wei Ying.”
At first, Wei Ying doesn't reply, just leans into Lan Zhan's palm with a watery smile, briefly shutting his eyes, then opening them again to gaze at Lan Zhan.
“Are our reasons really the same?” he asks. “Are you so foolish to - feel this?”
“I am,” says Lan Zhan. “Are you?”
The answer, after a moment of silent consideration, is Wei Ying's lips on his own.
He's experienced this in his mind for so long that, at first, he wonders if that's where he is - his mind. That perhaps Wei Ying succeeded in killing him, and this is where he finds himself in death.
But for that - no, it's too real. He can feel too much, in Wei Ying's tears on his face, the pulse at his neck where Lan Zhan's hand falls to rest, the flick of Wei Ying's tongue at his lips.
It's perfectly real. After all of these years.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying pulls back and speaks with breathy surprise. “You're -” He doesn't seem able to articulate what it is that Lan Zhan is, instead choosing to shake his head, and lean back in.
*
Lan Zhan wakes the next morning to Wei Ying draped across his chest, a heavy, constant weight as if he's been there a while - as if he's been there all night.
“Did you sleep?” he asks when Wei Ying stirs at his movement. “All night?”
Wei Ying grins, lifting his head to look up at Lan Zhan, then shifting to rest his chin on top of his hands where his head had been. “I was exhausted, you can hardly blame me.”
Lan Zhan smiles softly, though somewhere, deep where he doesn't want to think of it, he knows it can't be that easy.
Wei Ying sighs, his train of thought following Lan Zhan's. “You didn't fuck the resentful energy out of me, if that's what you're wondering.”
“Wei Ying!”
“What? You didn't! I just,” he sighs again. “Feel better, knowing - you. Knowing that you know everything, and that you're still here.”
“I'm not leaving.”
“What about in four days?”
Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I'll think of something.”
“Lan Zhan…”
“Even if I leave,” he says. “I'll return. And as long as I can help you to keep it under control, that's what matters.”
Wei Ying nods, all the words he wants to say visible in his smile.
It's a beautiful thing, to know someone - to know Wei Ying, this man before him, who holds the world and owns it, who has seen so much of its horrors and still lies here to smile and to love and to learn. Who, in all of his suffering, still wants to try.
And Lan Zhan will find a way to stay, and watch, and help.