Chapter Text
Lan Qiren knows how he is viewed by others: the unrelenting, unbending, rigorous follower of all four thousand Gusu Lan rules and a strict teacher who expected nothing less than excellence from his students.
His reputation is…not inaccurate, Lan Qiren admits begrudgingly to himself. Over the years, he has steadily become increasingly rigid in his teachings and harsher in his punishments.
And it is not an entirely undeserved reputation, even if it is a bit unfair.
As a young teacher, Lan Qiren had believed firmly that the rules were a guide to moral behaviour. Now, even as the list of rules grows, he still believes that.
Rule number 3928: exercise good sense.
The additional rules, added in the years since Wei Wuxian had fallen, were intended to discourage another Wei Wuxian from emerging. They were intended to prevent another promising young cultivator from being lost to the heretical path.
Instead, it only further alienated a nephew who was already lost to him and solidified his reputation as a no-nonsense instructor who despised any challenges to the rules.
It is not the reputation he imagined for himself, nor is it the life he thought he would live when he and his brother were young.
Left with two nephews to raise by a brother who had more or less abandoned his own children, Lan Qiren had thought it best to adhere closely to the rules. After all, wasn’t it deviance from the rules that landed them all in their predicament over thirty years earlier? An absent father and dominating husband, an unwilling bride and reluctant mother, two young children who were barely more than strangers to their own parents, and a woefully unprepared younger brother left to hold what remained of his family and his sect together.
As the second son, it was never his duty to learn the ins and outs of political maneuverings. He was a strong cultivator but he was always a scholar before he was a fighter; a teacher before a warrior.
So even if his reputation for his resolute belief in Gusu Lan’s rules is not undeserved, it is still a rather unfair assessment.
Despite popular opinion, Lan Qiren knows that rules can be bent.
Lan Qiren does not like Wei Wuxian and would much rather Wei Wuxian never set foot in Gusu again. But, Wei Wuxian would take Wangji with him and Lan Qiren has learned his lesson.
He has learned the consequences of separating his family members from their chosen ones, and has learned the consequences of separating Wangji from Wei Wuxian.
Lan Qiren knows all too well the lengths Lan Wangji would go to for Wei Wuxian, and it terrifies him.
Does Wei Wuxian know that Wangji would hand him the world on a platter if he asked? That Wangji would burn the world to the ground, choke everyone in the fumes and resentful energy if it would make Wei Wuxian smile? Lan Qiren is absolutely terrified of the amount of power Wei Wuxian has over Wangji.
More than anyone, Lan Qiren knows how unhealthy his family’s love is. Never ending, unwavering, and single-minded devotion is not healthy — and despite what Lan Jingyi seems to believe about romance, it is not the hallmark of a flourishing relationship.
Which is why it surprises Lan Qiren so much when Wangji returns to Cloud Recesses alone.
Lan Wangji is a week late, having missed Lan Xichen’s quiet entry into seclusion and the subsequent scrambling of Lan Qiren and the Sect Elders to deal with the sudden disappearance of both their Jades. There is a sudden, unprecedented shift of political power and no one is sure what to do. None of them were privy to the conversations that happened in the Guanyin Temple and do not understand why The Headshaker suddenly has the answers, nor why Sandu Shengshou suddenly does not.
(Gusu Lan are not the only ones struggling. At least they are not Lanling Jin.)
“Wangji,” Lan Qiren nods as Wangji kneels before him.
Seeing Wangji on his knees before him in the Yashi is an unwelcome sight for the memories it evokes.
Lan Qiren has only ever seen Lan Wangji on his knees in this room twice before. The first was when he asked for access to the Forbidden Section of the library, just before Wei Wuxian took off with the Wens for the Burial Mounds. The second had Wangji barely upright, fresh blood streaming down his back from the discipline whip wounds he had reopened and pleading for A-Yuan’s life.
(And Lan Qiren has never stopped wondering how differently things might have turned out if he had granted Wangji unlimited access to the Forbidden Section.)
This time is different. Lan Wangji holds himself with the same conviction he had in the past — the same stubborn faith in his choices — but it is now backed up by a new, quiet confidence that Lan Qiren has never seen before.
Wangji looks at him, clearly expecting Lan Qiren to be angry: for standing at Wei Wuxian’s side in the Burial Mounds, for causing a minor uproar in Lotus Pier with Wei Wuxian, or for taking off with Wei Wuxian from the Guanyin Temple instead of returning to Cloud Recesses.
(There is also the entire Carp Tower incident. It is too late to scold Wangji for his reckless behaviour at Carp Tower now but Lan Qiren never got the chance to properly chastise Wangji for his discourteous actions.)
There are a great many things Lan Qiren could be angry at Wangji for but to both of their surprises, he isn’t. There is no anger, only tired resignation.
“Wangji.” Lan Qiren sits across from Wangji, a pot of tea on the low table between them. Puffs of steam steadily escape from the thin sprout.
“Shufu.” Wangji makes eye contact with Lan Qiren, brazen and resolute.
“You have returned alone,” Lan Qiren says, pouring them both a cup of tea. He knows that he is bordering on using frivolous words by stating something so obvious but is it frivolous when it is necessary for Lan Qiren to steel his own nerves for this conversation? Wangji has always been difficult to speak to, even before he fell for Wei Wuxian.
“Wei Ying wishes to travel,” Wangji responds, keeping his expression intentionally blank. It is the expression Wangji has when he is purposefully masking his thoughts.
“You did not join him.” By now, Lan Qiren knows better than to hope that Wangji will stay. He has no delusions about his place in Wangji’s heart. He knows that Lan Sizhui’s presence was the single thread still binding Wangji to Cloud Recesses and their sect at the height of Wangji’s grief.
But Lan Sizhui has grown up now, is travelling on his own with the Ghost General, and Lan Qiren knows better than to hope Wangji would do anything other than to follow Wei Wuxian to the ends of the earth.
“No,” Wangji stalls by sipping his own tea. It is not an easy conversation for either of them. “There are things Wei Ying must do alone, first.”
Lan Qiren raises an eyebrow at that. “First?”
Wangji nods once but otherwise does not respond. Lan Qiren does not push.
They sit in silence, sipping their tea and waiting for the other to speak first.
As it has always been, Lan Qiren is the first to break the silence. Wangji, after all, has only ever lost a battle of wills to one person. “Xichen is in seclusion,” he says, stroking his beard.
“Xiongzhang will be alright.” Holding his long sleeve to the side, Wangji sets his teacup back on the table.
“You speak with much certainty,” Lan Qiren says blandly, voicing his observation. He is only slightly unnerved by Wangji’s unwavering tone, that Wangji can so easily believe that Xichen will be alright despite such a blow.
Slowly blinking at Lan Qiren, Wangji speaks with a wisdom that can only be obtained through experience. “Loss of a cherished one is difficult. Loss of trust in oneself can be unmanageable.” Pausing briefly, Wangji looks down at his half empty teacup before fixing his gaze back on Lan Qiren. “Xichen supported me when I needed him most and wanted him least. I will do the same for him.”
Lan Qiren tucks his fists into his sleeves so Wangji cannot see how his hands quaver. “You remain out of a duty to Xichen?”
Wangji is too disciplined to sigh aloud but Lan Qiren can feel Wangji’s displeasure at his words. “There are changes I wish to see, ideas I wish to implement,” Wangji says after a long pause. He pours himself more tea even though his cup is not empty and sets the pot back down more slowly than is necessary. “My loyalty to Xichen is not so frail so as to exist solely on a transactional basis. Nor is my duty to my sect.”
Observing Wangji as he sits with the flawless posture he had been taught to maintain as a child, Lan Qiren can’t help but wonder how he failed his nephews so thoroughly. He only ever wanted to teach them how to avoid regrets like their father’s, and he full-heartedly believed the way to do so was by following the spirit of the rules to the letter. After all, was it not deviation from the rules that led Qingheng-jun to his lonely, secluded fate?
And yet. Two nephews, gone down two different paths after following the same rules, yet both enduring the kind of heartache that Lan Qiren never wanted them to experience.
But despite everything, they are still family. Lan Qiren knows that Wangji worries, that Wangji cares for them. It is just that Wangji’s affections have always been distant, even to those closest to him — especially in contrast to how Wangji wears his love for Wei Wuxian on his sleeves.
“Will you rejoin your sect?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Lan Qiren regrets his wording.
He is not surprised when Wangji’s eyes narrow, flashing with offence. “There is no need to rejoin what one has never left. I did not turn my back on my sect. My sect turned their backs on me.”
“You do not regret standing for Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren asks, even though he knows what Wangji will say. He wishes he could take a sip of tea, if only to recollect his thoughts, but his hands are still shaking and there is no need for Wangji to see an aging man’s weakness. “You do not regret standing against the accepted path?”
“My only regret is that I did not stand with Wei Ying sooner.” Unlike Lan Qiren, Wangji’s hands are still steady as he once again picks up his cup. He holds up his arm, covering his face as he drinks. “Shufu, the accepted path is accepted only because it is easy. The righteous path is difficult. We are taught to take the straight path. What is not taught is that the straight path is often crooked.”
There is a stirring of fury that instinctively bubbles in Lan Qiren whenever the Gusu Lan rules are challenged, even though he knows in his heart that Wangji is correct. He coughs. “Harmony is the value,” Lan Qiren recites, giving Wangji a hard look. “Do not forget the grace of the forefathers. One must always apply the lessons of the past to the present.”
“I have never forgotten the grace of the forefathers,” Wangji says with certainty, staring coldly at Lan Qiren. “It is only my understanding of their grace that has changed.”
Lan Qiren pushes further, pushing Wangji’s buttons. “So you will be loyal and filial to Xichen? To Gusu? When you stand at Wei Wuxian’s side, who will you keep at the forefront of your thoughts?”
“Can it be called loyalty when it is only filial?“ Wangji pushes back, the corner of his lip pulled downward in a small frown. “Do I care for Xiongzhang because he is Xiongzhang, or do I care for Xiongzhang because it would be unfilial to act otherwise?”
“Wangji,” Lan Qiren chides mildly. “You know that filial piety is filial because one cares. Man is a brother first, a filial subject second.”
“As that is that case, should Xichen not be supported as a brother first, and judged as an unfilial subject second?”
Lan Qiren bristles, knowing that Wangji is making a targeted comment on Lan Qiren’s own failure to care for Qingheng-jun as a brother.
But Lan Qiren also begins to understand why Wangji is so adamant that Xichen will be alright. Where Wangji and Xichen have always supported one another through their mistakes and their struggles, Lan Qiren turned his back on his brother in his greatest moment of need.
Rather than answering, Lan Qiren sighs. “How long will you remain in Cloud Recesses?” He asks instead because he has no satisfactory answers for Wangji.
“Until Wei Ying returns.”
It does not escape Lan Qiren’s notice, how Wangji’s voice softens when he says Wei Wuxian’s name.
“And then? You will leave us without notice on the whims of Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren tries not to sound too bitter, but his mouth is dry and he is terrified of what Wangji will do if Wei Wuxian does not return.
All Wangji says is, “Wei Ying is not unreasonable.” Wangji then folds his hands on his lap, a polite gesture and a clear indication that he is done with this conversation.
As Wangji exits the Yashi, Lan Qiren realizes the air of contentment that now surrounds Wangji has replaced the sorrow that Wangji has carried for sixteen years. The overwhelming grief that Wangji shouldered for all those years became such a part of him that no one recognized Wangji’s heartache until it was suddenly gone. Even though Wei Wuxian is far away now, his life is inexplicably tied to Wangji’s.
Seeing Wangji as he is now without the weight of mourning, Lan Qiren finds that he cannot begrudge his nephew for finding his own happiness — even if that happiness comes in the form of Wei Wuxian.
For several months, there is no word of Wei Wuxian’s whereabouts.
In Wei Wuxian’s absence, Wangji ascends to the position of Chief Cultivator, Lan Sizhui returns to Cloud Recesses after his own travels with the Ghost General, and Lan Xichen remains secluded in the Hanshi.
Seasons change, the days growing shorter as the late summer harvests begin to bear fruit. Lan Qiren watches Wangji closely. It is not because he does not trust Wangji — despite his unconventional approaches to organizing night hunts and some of his bolder proposals, Wangji is doing quite well in his new role — but because he worries about Wangji.
Two, three, four, five months pass. The summer harvests are brought in and stored, the brisk winter chill settles in Gusu, snowflakes dust the roofs in Cloud Recesses, Xichen loses an entire season to seclusion, and Wei Wuxian is still nowhere to be seen.
Yet, to Lan Qiren’s surprise, Wangji goes through his days just fine. He carries out his new duties, drafting new proposals, going through the endless mountains of papers left behind by Jin Guangyao, opening new trade routes, and assigning night hunts. Despite everything that has happened, life in Cloud Recesses remains largely the same. Quiet and serene, life is monotonous and there are no unexpected surprises: just the way Lan Qiren likes it.
However, there is one change.
Every few days, a letter arrives at the gates of Cloud Recesses delivered by a messenger from Caiyi.
The letters he carries are the only indicator of Wei Wuxian’s continued existence.
Everyone in Cloud Recesses knows when a letter from Wei Wuxian arrives from the quiet satisfaction written across Wangji’s face. On those days, there is an air of lightness around Wangji and all of Cloud Recesses feels a little brighter. No one quite knows how to describe the sensation but everyone very much feels it.
“You have received a letter from Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren says as he sits down for tea across Wangji.
Today, they are in the Jingshi. On Wangji’s writing desk across the room, Lan Qiren can see the opened letter sitting there. It is the only letter visible, but Lan Qiren knows his nephew well enough to know that Wangji has kept every letter stored somewhere safe.
Wangji nods as he pours them both tea but says nothing.
“It has been five months,” Lan Qiren says pointedly, watching Wangji’s steady hands tilt the teapot. “No one knows his whereabouts.”
At that, Lan Wangji halts his pouring to give his shufu a dry expression.
Lan Qiren doesn’t need to name Wei Wuxian for Wangji to know who he is talking about.
“You know his whereabouts,” Lan Qiren corrects himself as Wangji finishes pouring their tea. “Yet you have not gone to find him.”
Calmly sipping his tea, Wangji looks down. “Wei Ying will return,” he says with a note of finality in his voice, a certainty that Lan Qiren has rarely heard from Wangji.
“You speak with much confidence,” Lan Qiren says. It is not scolding, even though he is reciting arrogance is forbidden in his mind. His hands are steady today, so he picks up his cup to savour the aroma of the tea before taking a long sip.
“I have confidence in Wei Ying.”
“You have not seen Wei Wuxian for nearly half a year yet your faith in him does not waver.” A hint of concern slips into his voice. It is true that Lan Qiren is concerned — he has always been concerned. Certainly, Wangji has more than proven the lengths he will go to in order to stand at Wei Wuxian’s side. “You have not invited him to return to you?”
Shaking his head, Wangji’s response is simple. “There is no need. I trust Wei Ying.”
Having expected Wangji to treat Wei Wuxian the way Qingheng-jun had treated his wife, Lan Qiren is genuinely surprised by Wangji’s openness and says as such.
“Be trustworthy, and others will believe you,” Wangji recites without hesitation, as if he expected Lan Qiren’s mild bewilderment. He takes a sip of his tea.
“And you believe him to be trustworthy.” It is a statement, and Lan Qiren says it as such. With steady hands, he sets his cup back on the table.
Sighing, Wangji mimics Lan Qiren’s action and sets his cup back down as well. He neatly rests his arms on his lap. “Wei Ying has always been trustworthy, even when I did not trust him. He will return when he is ready and when that time comes, I will accept him.”
“And will you require that I accept him too? That all Cloud Recesses bends to your whims?” Lan Qiren pushes because he already knows that Wangji would do exactly that. He would go against the wishes of his own clan elders, of his own family, if it meant he would have Wei Wuxian at his side.
He did so the first time, when there had been no hope for them, and he would do so again in a heartbeat.
Like his father before him, Lan Wangji would throw away his morals and loyalties for a taste of Wei Wuxian.
When Wangji shakes his head, Lan Qiren scrambles to mask his surprise behind a cough.
“I would like your blessing, Shufu,” Wangji says, looking directly at his shufu so the intention behind his words cannot be misinterpreted — to force Lan Qiren to see the depth of his love for Wei Wuxian. “I would like you, and my Sect Elders, to support my intentions with Wei Ying. I would like your blessings, but I do not need them.”
At that moment, Lan Qiren realizes that he spent all these years raising Xichen and Wangji with the fear that they would turn into their father. With all that time spent worrying about them following in their father’s path, Lan Qiren forgot to look at his nephews for who they are. His fear of history repeating Qingheng-jun’s selfishness led him to overlook the very different men his nephews grew into.
“Without our blessings, you would not be able to remain in Cloud Recesses.” Observing Wangji’s face, Lan Qiren is unsurprised when he does not see any fracturing in Wangji’s resolve. After all, Wangji has long since proven his devotion to Wei Wuxian surpasses his loyalty to his sect.
A breeze drifts in from the open window behind Wangji. It is very light, only ruffling a couple strands of hair.
“It is a consequence I am willing to accept.”
And Lan Qiren has no doubts that Wangji has thought his choices through, that Wangji is more than willing to give up his home — along with everything he has — if it means he can be with Wei Wuxian.
But, even after the truth about the extent of Jin Guangyao and Su She’s meddling was revealed — even after witnessing Wei Wuxian use himself as a spirit lure flag to defend a group of cultivators who openly despised him to his face — Lan Qiren still does not believe that Wei Wuxian is worthy of Wangji’s devotion.
Wei Wuxian has never been worthy of Wangji’s affections.
Sighing deeply, Lan Qiren can feel Wangji’s piercing gaze studying him closely, waiting for his reaction. “You are still too much like your father. Soft-hearted. Too permissive.”
Pausing, Lan Qiren refills his teacup and takes a long, slow sip.
Wangji watches him, jaw clenching in impatience as he is forced to wait for his shufu to finish his drink before continuing.
“I cannot stop you if it is what you have set your mind on,” Lan Qiren says, thinking of sixteen years earlier when Wangji risked everything and received his discipline whip lashes without hesitation — without regret.
With an inscrutable expression, Lan Wangji nods. Approval is not a blessing, but there is now the mutual understanding that Lan Qiren will not interfere in his relationship.
It is not the warm acceptance that Wangji might have received from Xichen, but it is the most approval Lan Qiren is willing to give, and they have both come to terms with that.
The first time Wei Wuxian sets foot in Cloud Recesses after the Guanyin Temple, Lan Qiren does not actually see him.
Lan Qiren is only informed after the fact, when Wangji is giving his weekly updates.
“Three days ago, Sect Leader Nie arrived to discuss the matter of yaoguai interfering with shipments along the river,” Wangji says, diving straight into his report.
“Nie Huaisang is finally acting like a proper sect leader,” Lan Qiren grouches. He notices how Wangji’s expression tightens, how his eyes cloud over with some indiscernible expression that Lan Qiren does not like.
Hesitating, Lan Qiren can see that there is more that Wangji is deliberating on whether or not to tell him.
“Do not be of two minds,” Lan Qiren recites from the rules, somewhat impatient from Wangji’s turmoil.
Looking Lan Qiren in the eye, Lan Wangji says without hesitation that, “Wei Ying was here.”
Lan Qiren feels a shiver crawl down his spine as he outwardly appears unmoved. It is more than a little unsettling to learn that Wei Wuxian could be right under his nose and Lan Qiren could never notice.
The tea that sits on the table between them is steaming, kept hot by a talisman modified by Wei Wuxian during his first life. The talisman is strong enough to keep tea heated at just the right temperature for entire days at a time.
He would never admit it out loud, but it is possibly Lan Qiren’s favourite talisman.
Observing the carefully drawn lines on the talisman paper, Lan Qiren strokes his beard. “I see Wei Wuxian has been granted permission to gallivant into Cloud Recesses on a whim, so long as it suits him.”
“Wei Ying has a jade token,” Wangji says simply, tonelessly, pretending to brush lint off his robes. He faces Lan Qiren as he speaks, but it does not feel like he is seeing his uncle.
Hearing the words should not surprise Lan Qiren as much as it does.
In their youth, Wangji had always been drawn to Wei Wuxian, even when neither of them understood what they felt. In his grief, Wangji mourned more than Lan Qiren ever thought possible.
Do not grieve in excess, Lan Qiren had wanted to say when it was the twelfth year of Wei Wuxian’s passing and Wangji continued to wear his mourning robes. It was all too easy for Wangji to hide his mourning behind the immaculate white of Gusu Lan and Lan Qiren wanted nothing more than to terminate this fruitless devotion to a heretical cultivator.
And yet, could Wangji rightfully be accused of grieving in excess when his grief only reflected the depth of his feelings?
With Wei Wuxian’s resurrection, Lan Qiren does not know what to do: only that Wangji and Wei Ying cannot be separated again.
“I see.” Behind the door, they can hear the muffled murmurs of passing disciples. Neither mind the noise. “I am surprised his presence did not give rise to unfounded commotion.”
“Wei Ying is tactful when he chooses to be,” Wangji says, his sharp features softening to reveal a tender mask that Lan Qiren has not seen since Lan Sizhui was only Lan Yuan.
A shiver runs down Lan Qiren’s back at the idea of Wei Wuxian blending into Cloud Recesses like any other visitor, quiet and subtle enough to go unnoticed.
“And he could not choose to be so earlier?” Twenty years earlier, Lan Qiren wants to say. Tactful enough to reject the heretical path.
“Wei Ying does not regret his past, Shufu” Wangji says pointedly, the brief tenderness gone as quickly as it came.
But you regret yours. Lan Qiren can see how Wangji’s regrets rest on his shoulders, a sixteen year old burden that not even Wei Wuxian’s impossible return can lift.
Does Wei Wuxian know how much he holds you back?
But Lan Qiren knows better than to say that. “He does not stay at your side,” he says instead, keeping his voice in the practiced impassivity that most members of Gusu Lan have mastered. It is in part because he is very relieved and Wangji would be hurt if he knew of this relief, but even more because Lan Qiren is deeply surprised and he does not want to be questioned for this surprise.
It was difficult enough to imagine Wangji allowing Wei Wuxian to part ways the first time, but a second separation? Their family has been cursed with all-consuming love since the beginning. Yet here is Wangji, allowing his love to walk away from him again and again.
To his surprise, the corner of Wangji’s lip quirks upwards at the reminder. “There are things Wei Ying still must do,” Wangji says, echoing himself from the past.
“This is ridiculous,” Lan Qiren grumbles, shedding a layer of formality. They are not speaking as uncle and nephew yet, but they are no longer just a Chief Cultivator and a Sect Elder. “Does Wei Wuxian intend to run off without Gusu Lan’s blessing? Does Wei Wuxian think that he can simply run off with the Chief Cultivator, elope with the Second Jade of Lan, without Gusu Lan’s blessing?”
“Shufu?” Wangji’s eyes widen, his surprise blatant. Bichen rests against the table, its white sheath a stark contrast to the dark zitan wood table, but Wangji’s fists are clenched as white as Bichen.
“Is that not something Wei Wuxian must also do?” Lan Qiren asks, giving Wangji a hard look. He can barely believe the words that are coming out of his mouth, yet he genuinely means each and every word. “Receive blessings from the family, from the sect, of his intended?”
For a long moment, Wangji is quiet. His stoic mask has cracked and Lan Qiren can read each thought racing through Wangji’s mind reflected in his eyes.
It is the most vulnerable Wangji has been before him in a long time.
Each second is a different expression. To anyone else, Wangji’s expressions might as well be the same face but Lan Qiren can see the startled surprise, the unadulterated elation, the panicked overanalysis, the wary acceptance, the tender love, and — finally — the cautious hope, as each expression flickers across Wangji’s face.
“Shufu,” Wangji finally says, his deceptively steady voice is tinged with a nearly hysterical desperation that gives away his internal agitation. “Do not say one thing and mean another,” he recites from their Sect Rules.
“Indeed. Do not say one thing and mean another,” Lan Qiren repeats. He might actually suffer a qi deviation if he tried to say it in so many words, but Lan Qiren is functionally giving his blessing to Wei Wuxian.
The significance has not escaped Wangji.
“Shufu,” Wangji says, voice strained. “Thank you.”
And despite all his trepidation towards Wei Wuxian, Lan Qiren decides it is worth it when, for the first time in nearly twenty years, Lan Qiren sees Wangji smile at him again.
When Wei Wuxian returns to Cloud Recesses for the second time, another seven months have passed and he is already married to Wangji.
As Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian cross paths with Lan Qiren on their way to the Jingshi, still in their untailored wedding reds, Lan Qiren’s eyes are glued to the white ribbon tied neatly around Wei Wuxian’s wrist.
Lan Qiren is tired.
Lan Qiren knows better than to preach tradition to Wei Wuxian.
Lan Qiren knows better than to question Wangji’s choices when it comes to Wei Wuxian.
Meeting Wei Wuxian’s wide-eyed gaze, Lan Qiren simply nods once.
And Lan Qiren keeps walking.