Chapter Text
“Wei Wuxian!” the crowd roared, a flurry of coloured robes with swords raised marched towards the Burial Mound. The man everyone was looking for stood before the scene, scoffing at the irony. Those who were once his comrades in the Sunshot Campaign had joined for another against him.
No bother, he would get rid of all of them the same, just like the Campaign he once fought alongside the men in front of him.
It was laughably easy to lift Chenqing, the flute that he used to fight against the Wen, to use it against his once allies to protect the Wens behind him that he sacrificed everything to protect.
He could see the distinct purple robes amongst the colourful robes, and it only made him more determined to fight, he sacrificed his whole life for the Jiangs, yet here they were, here he was trying to kill him, get rid of him.
The roars of the cultivators’ and the corpses he summoned mixed together, a concoction of dread, anger, fear to this hell on earth. All because of Wei Wuxian.
He couldn’t afford to lose, not to these power-hungry hypocrites, not to these traitors, he couldn’t lose. He had the Wens behind him looking onto him to protect them, a group of elderly and children who has no means to protect themselves, he couldn’t afford to lose. He had to prove a point to these self-important cultivators, who just wanted some title of being apart of the siege that killed Wei Wuxian. He would never let them have that satisfaction.
It was a hard battle, he didn’t know how he managed to escape the 3 thousand army at the Nightless City, because the cultivators with their skilled swordsmanship and weapons, the corpses could only fight for that long before they ended up immobilized. He just needed to do more, he needed to keep going, he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop.
The Wens needed him, the elderly of the mountain needed him. A-Yuan needed him.
So, with one final desperate blow of his flute, with everything he has inside him, he pushed all the cultivators off the premise of the Burial Mound. The melody from his flute materialized the resentful energy, extending his will to push every cultivator away, dead or alive, far away from Burial Mound.
With all the men moved as far back as Wei Wuxian deemed good enough, the materialized resentment wrapped around the corpse mountain, that he had been theorizing an developing on and off every since the raid of Lotus Pier, one that he guaranteed no one would ever come into his home, no one would every disturb them ever again and no one in the Burial Mound would ever get hurt.
Lan Wangji does not know he will every walk this path again.
13 years ago, hundreds died on this path on the siege for Wei Wuxian’s head, and hundreds more were pushed away from ever stepping foot into this mountain ever again, secluding himself from the rest of the world. Lan Wangji was no different, he knew he would never step onto this path towards the Burial Mound ever again.
Yet here he is, standing in front of the mountain, resentful energy filling the air and his core thrummed in rejection of the place. But he knows he has a mission: he must talk to the ruler of this corpse mountain.
So he continues he walk up the mountain, not knowing what will come out of this. Will he get rejected just like everyone else? Or will Yiling Patriarch give him face and meet him for this talk?
Of course Yiling Patriarch will have to come out and meet Lan Wangji, this is Hanguang Jun! How dare Yiling Patriarch not show some face and speak to his excellency? That’s what any ordinary cultivator would say, but Lan Wangji knows better than to force someone to do something they do not wish to.
He just hopes Wei Ying will let him have a glimpse of his face.
He continues his walk up the mountain, until he is met with a barrier.
He has heard of the barrier, just like the one his family has for Cloud Recesses, except this one is made from resentful energy, and the most powerful barrier known to man. There had been numerous attempts from cultivators all around the world to try and destroy this barrier to fight the Yiling Patriarch. Yet no matter how many tools used on this barrier, barely a dent was made. Before these cultivators can figure out what other methods they could use to dissolve this shield, a wave of fierce corpses would attack them, running them off and away from the Burial Mound.
Lan Wangji is not here to fight the Yiling Patriarch, or to attempt to dissolve the barrier, but just to talk.
He cannot help but to analyze this work of wonder, regardless of the material it is made from. It does not surprise Lan Wangji that Wei Wuxian managed to make the most powerful barrier known to man amongst a siege against him, let alone one that is made by resentful energy. A first of its kind.
Wei Wuxian is known for being an outlier after all.
Lan Wangji is so engrossed in surveying the barrier that he does not notice the presence creeping up behind him until too late.
He whips around in high alert to find a sword pointing towards his face, a spiritual sword.
His eyes trails from the tip of the sword to the hilt where the name of the weapon is inscribed.
Suibien.
Lan Wangji’s brows furrow the slightest bit at the name. The sword of Wei Wuxian, one that Wei Wuxian would bring around before he chose to walk the croaked path.
His eyes continue to trail towards the hand that hold the sword, then the owner of the hand, a man who is not Wei Wuxian holding the sword, using it to threaten Lan Wangji.
No, not a man, a boy, an adolescent boy.
A boy in black robes and an expression too hard for someone his age to have, face too soft to be older than 17. That is the same age when Cloud Recession was burnt down by the Wens, the same age when Lotus Pier was brought to ruins. No one this boy’s age should have this look anymore, not when there is no looming threat behind their backs nor desperation to survive. Yet this boy seemed to be an outlier, just like the ruler of the mountain behind Lan Wangji.
“State your purpose,” the boy commands. A voice too soft to hold an edge, but he tries to sound as threatening as possible. Lan Wangji is not scared of him, but he has his guard up regardless, thinking of the best way to escape from this situation without wounding him.
He was expecting a wave of corpses to pounce on him, not one boy too young to be threatening holding a sword to his face.
“State your purpose, now,” The boy does not yell, voice calm as the deep lake on a windless day, waiting for a big gush of wind to generate waves, toppling whoever on shore.
“Do you know Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks instead.
“That’s not the answer to my question,” the sword does not waver, and neither does the boy’s voice. “You’re Hanguang Jun, aren’t you? State your purpose, I don’t care about your title, I’ll slice you open with my sword regardless.”
Lan Wangji’s brows furrow further, “You are holding Suibien.”
“And why does that matter?”
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes in the slightest bit, “Suibien is Wei Ying’s sword.”
“Was, it’s mine now, and you still have yet to state your purpose here.”
Anyone with less restraint would be triggered to rant about of how Suibien is Wei Wuxian’s and no one else’s, how this boy needs to learn respect to the sword’s owner, that he should return it to its rightful owner. But Lan Wanji has restraint instilled into him like it is second nature. Besides that, the familiarity that rings in Lan Wangji’s memory also stops him from scolding the boy.
His face is soft, his baby fat has yet to fade away, but clearly slimmed down from when this teenager was just a toddler. His eyes have a hard glare, but not hard enough to show that he is toughened by the world, and not one that no longer has the childish glint hidden behind the hard threatening look; the childish glint that carries memories of toy butterflies made of grass and dessert in a diner in Yiling.
“You are A-Yuan?”
The boy scoffs, “Rich Gege.”
“You are living with Wei Ying?”
“Yes. Now what do you want?” A-Yuan does not let this reunion distract Lan Wangji from the matter, and Lan Wangji has not stated his business, which he knows better than to hold his plans on his sleeves. But how could he reject A-Yuan’s request?
“I wish to speak with Wei Ying.”
“Xian-ge? You want to just speak with him?” A-Yuan scoffs again, an odd sound from the young boy, especially when Lan Wangji has only heard of excited squeals and whiney cries from him when he was barely old enough to understand the world.
“What makes you think I would believe you? You of all people don’t want to just ‘talk’ to him,” A-Yuan now has his sword down but his glare is growing sharper than the sword in his hand.
“I only wish to speak to him,” Lan Wangji clarifies, “I wish to receive Wei Ying’s assistance regarding a raising problem in the cultivation world. I do not wish to harm him, I only wish to speak to him and discuss on the matter,” Lan Wangji explains.
“Yeah, right,” sarcasm drips from A-Yuan’s voice, “and don’t call me A-Yuan, I don’t think we’re close enough for that. Don’t you agree, Hanguang Jun?”
Lan Wangji takes a breath, “As you wish.” He takes a small bow towards him, “how would you like me to address you as?”
“Preferably nothing because we won’t be seeing each other again as you are going to leave the Burial Mound back to wherever you come from. Thank you very much and have a good walk.”
Lan Wangji is disappointed, but he is nothing but stubborn.
“I apologize, but I will not be leaving without speaking to Wei Ying.”
Annoyance is buzzing under A-Yuan’s calm demeanor, “And I have said, Hanguang Jun, that you should leave, Xian-Ge would not be taking any guests today.”
“I will not bring harm to him or you. I would only wish to have a conversation regarding this problem outside of Yiling.”
A-Yuan croaks a questioning eyebrow, he has not heard about this “problem”, “Are you suspecting Xian-Ge is behind this ‘problem?”
Lan Wangji lets out a breath, “No. However there-“
“However? So you want to take him to trial then?”
“No, I only wish to discuss with him-“
“And then what? Let him go? The righteous Hanguang Jun would let him go when the rest of the world thinks he’s the mastermind behind this problem? I find it hard to believe.”
“I will not harm him-“
“But the second you get whatever information you want you’re gonna bring the rest of the cultivation world to our doorsteps. That’s not gonna happen so you better leave before-“
“A-Yuan!” a voice warns, coming from behind Lan Wangji, from within the resentful barrier, a voice that Lan Wangji has not heard in the past 13 years, a voice that he would only hear in his dreams and his memories, a voice that he came all this way for.
Lan Wangji turns around, eyes zoning to the black-cladded figure coming down the slope of the mountain, almost blending into the black dirt of the mountain, if it is not for the single red ribbon tying his hair up giving away his presence.
“That is not how you talk to Hanguang Jun, address him properly and apologize for your rude behaviour,” Wei Wuxian scolds, his steps never faltering as the barrier slowly dissipates enough to allow the man to pass through.
A-Yuan must have made a face to that request because Wei Wuxian gives a stern look to the boy now behind Lan Wangji’s back, as he speaks once more.
“Forgive this young one’s crude behaviour, our esteemed Hanguang Jun, welcome to the Burial Mound. I hope you enjoy your stay and chat with Xian-Ge,” A-Yuan mocks, clearly annoyed with giving respect to Hanguang Jun. He even does a full proper greeting bow to Lan Wangji when he turns around to face him.
Lan Wangji does not get to greet him back as Wei Wuxian sighs and gestures A-Yuan to come back to the mountain, “Forget it. A-Yuan, head back inside. I’ll deal with this.”
A-Yuan gives an eyeroll before walking pass the two adults to the Burial Mound.
Wei Wuxian shakes his head at the behaviour but does not dwell on it. He re-enacted the barrier once A-Yuan passed the barrier and faces Lan Wangji properly.
“Hanguang Jun,” he greets, with a proper bow, a first for him, “I apologize for A-Yuan’s behaviour, he has been, prickly with spiritual cultivators.”
“It’s alright,” Lan Wangji stares at the top of Wei Wuxian’s head, feeling strange about this formality. “Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian stands back straight from the bow, and huffs a small laugh, “You’re still calling me that?”
Lan Wangji gulps, “Do you wish for me not to?”
“Oh no, no no no, Lan Zhan, it’s fine, I just,” Wei Wuxian relaxes as he scratches the back of his head, “I just didn’t expect you to keep calling me that.”
Lan Wangji takes a good look at Wei Wuxian. He thought his memory of the man in front of him would never fade, that he already has his face branded in his memory, if he wished to paint Wei Wuxian he could get a perfect portrait on the paper. He thought he could replicate the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice if he wished to, that he knew exactly which strings to pluck on his guqin to get Wei Wuxian’s tone of voice, though he wished he could replicate that laugh of his that reminds Lan Wangji of the warmth of the sun in a cold winter day.
Yet standing in front of Wei Wuxian after all these years, he realizes how far off his memory is to the man in front of him. The grey in his irises is lighter than he remembers, the freckles on his cheeks are on different positions than he remembers, the curve of his mouth is softer than he remembers.
It has been too long.
Lan Wangji should have forgotten how Wei Wuxian looks a long time ago, yet once in a while, he would pull out a piece of paper, or his fingers would move automatically on his guqin, or drew a portrait, or plays that one song that he dedicated to…
Never mind, Lan Wangji is not here for a reunion.
“So,” Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Wangji out of his memory back to the present, of the Wei Wuxian in front of him, “what are you doing here? You wouldn’t show up for no good reason, right?”
“Yes,” Lan Wangji answers, “I would like your help.”
“I’ve heard between you and A-Yuan’s conversation,” Wei Wuxian then physically cringes, “actually that shouldn’t count as a conversation, more like A-Yuan’s one-sided accusations. I apologize for his behaviour again, he’s usually more well behaved than this.”
Lan Wangji inhales sharply, “No worries.”
“So what exactly is this problem that you need to come all this way from Gusu for? You don’t think I’m behind this, right?” Wei Wuxian chuckles humourlessly, “I guarantee you will never find another demonic cultivator has well-behaved as I am.”
“I know,” Lan Wangji answers without hesitation. Which earned a surprised look on Wei Wuxian’s face.
“Really? You don’t think I’m responsible?”
Lan Wangji shakes his head, “However, the sects think you are the culprit of the chaos.”
That earned another humourless chuckle from Wei Wuxian, “Of course they do.”
He schools his feelings quickly enough and gets tack to the topic at hand, “So what exactly is going on out there, I haven’t exactly left Yiling since…”
Lan Wangji knows better than to relive that memory, so he interrupts, a first for him, “A rise of fierce corpses all over the cultivation world. Many seemed to target the sects and local lords, which led to unrest.”
Wei Wuxian furrows his brows, “A rise how? What do you define as a rise?”
“Several sects are at the brink of extinction because of the corpse infestation.”
That made Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen, “Oh? Actually? Was it over several days or in a night?”
“It varies.”
Wei Wuxian hums at the information and gets deep in thought, but quickly pulls himself out of it, “Now where are MY manners? Sorry Hanguang Jun, should we sit and talk about this instead of standing here?”
“No worries,” Lan Wangji’s heart starts to beat faster, but he will not let that show on his face, “And I would appreciate it.”
“Follow me then.” Then Wei Wuxian turns around towards the Burial mound.
Lan Wangji takes a deep breath before following suit. He never thought he would come back to Burial Mound, let alone walk inside, yet here he is, following Wei Wuxian into the mountain like all those years ago, along with a small A-Yuan.
But it has been too long, A-Yuan is much bigger, Wei Wuxian looks older, and so does he, nothing is the same anymore. However, Lan Wangji can hold onto that memory and try and recreate it in his head.