The aftermath of the Siege of the Burial Mounds was a quiet, somber affair. Corpses were shamefully disposed of, blood-soaked dirt was turned over, and what was left of the meager Wen encampment was fully dismantled.
A flock of crows, nestled in the nearby scraggly trees, watched the cultivators go about their grisly work, black eyes all glittering with hunger - or perhaps it was hatred.
While most of them seemed joyous, relieved even, that the nightmare of the Yiling Laozu was finally over… there was a heavy feeling hanging over their backs that they just couldn't shake loose.
Distracted by the corpses, or the crows, or that strange, dark feeling in their guts, nobody noticed when a tall figure, clad entirely in red, walked right into the Demon Slaughtering Cave and knelt down in the very spot Wei Wuxian had perished.
The unknowing cultivators continued to carry out their grim work in silence. Plank by plank, what was once a melancholy, dimly hopeful home looked more and more like the hellhole a promising young cultivator had crawled his way out of some years ago.
Only the figure in red stayed still, while the desecrated village around him returned to the corpses. He didn’t move, not even when the rest of the cultivators grew tired and left. He didn’t move, not even when darkness fell and the crows took to the sky, to search for food and brighter places to live.
His eyes were closed, his hands were outstretched, and if anyone could see him, it would be clear that he was focusing on something, as if it was the most important thing in the world.
To be honest, it probably wasn’t. But ghost kings have a strange way of prioritizing things.
He was cold.
Which was interesting in and of itself, because he was supposed to be dead, and last time he’d checked, dead people didn’t feel things like “cold”. But, all the same, there he was. Chilled to the bone.
If he’d had any bones, that is. Or limbs, or really anything else - it was odd, the sensation of cold without a body to feel it in.
He didn’t even know if his eyes were open or not. Everything was dark, like he’d dunked his head into a bath full of ink.
Hey.
Oh, and that was even stranger. How could he hear with no ears?
Wei Wuxian. The voice-that-wasn’t rang a little louder. Did he detect worry in that ghostly tone?
Please leave me alone, he thought, a sudden despair freezing him colder than before. Haven’t I done enough?
There was no way to describe what happened next. All he knew was that the cold disappeared, like a warm breeze had blown it all away. For just a moment, in the darkness Wei Wuxian found it easy to picture a pair of hands gently holding him close. Don’t worry, the voice said quietly, I will let you rest.
The warmth grew heavy on him, and the tenuous grasp he had on this frightening dark world slipped further from his nonexistent hands.
You are safe with me.
And then,
Wait, who’s this kid?
But Wei Wuxian was too gone to hear it.
Physical agony was nothing next to the excruciatingly jagged edges of his heart, ripped out and sewn back in facing the wrong direction.
The absence of Wei Ying sank deeper into that wound with every step he took towards the unforgiving Burial Mounds. His back, ragged and still-bloody and not-healed, tore further the faster he walked.
He could not slow down even if he wanted to.
He stumbled up the mountain path, once a small haven in a sea of despair, now a sick reminder of something he had been too cowardly to grasp. It was deathly silent - after disposing of the bodies, nobody felt the need to return to such a dismal place. Even the crows had long gone.
And still, Lan Wangji made his weary, painful trek to the mountain’s peak. It was not something he had control over, as if his legs were moving of their own volition.
The Wens’ home - Wei Ying’s home - was gone. Next to nothing remained, aside from a few burnt-out shells of huts, a few withered plants too dried out and smashed to ever regrow, no matter how many seasons pass.
The mouth of Demon Slaughtering Cave mocked him. You were too late , it jeered. What are you doing here? There’s no one left for you to save .
He went inside.
It was dark, of course it was dark, but by the light drifting in through the clouds, he could see the aftermath of a massacre. This was not new to him, but it hit harder than the first time he had ever seen a dead body. His eyes watered - due to the smell or due to the pain inside, he would never say.
He’d been told there hadn’t even been a body. Those words alone hurt more than all thirty-three lashes combined. He could only imagine… and he didn’t want to.
Nevermind that it was Wei Ying. No one should ever die so horribly. But for that smiling, brilliant, infuriating light to be put out so violently… it was beyond tragic.
Just a little bit farther. He needed to take in this place, this empty shell that was once a home. He needed to see all that he could, to burn into his memory the last place that Wei Ying had ever lived. To etch into his soul the last reminders of a good man who died far too early.
And then...
He ghosted through the room, and finally found what he was looking for - along with something he hadn’t expected to find.
Dried blood pooled on the ground like a sickening beginning to one of Wei Ying’s newest projects. Lan Wangji knew, somehow, that this… was all that was left.
Standing in the center was a tall man dressed in red. He held a small black and red pouch in one hand.
“It took you long enough,” he said lightly.
Lan Wangji knew exactly who this was. He had seen the same visage since he was young, eyes fixed on his other half.
Hua Cheng. Xie Lian. You couldn’t pray to one without the other.
He had kept a small shrine in the jingshi since he was old enough to understand the stories. His family didn’t always understand, but it wasn’t exactly against the rules, so they had simply let him be.
Gods had fallen a bit to the wayside in recent times, but there would always be a few devoted followers. Lan Wangji was one such man.
He knelt down on the ground immediately, and Hua Cheng made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “No, stop. Get up.”
Lan Wangji stood up, but kept his head bowed. “Come on. Look at me, it’s not a big deal.”
But it was. Lan Wangji clenched one hand into a fist and ignored every instinct within him that screamed to bow to this man and beg for Wei Ying’s life. If any being had the ability to do something about it, it was this very man before him. The only thing that stopped him was the agonizing certainty that Wei Ying did not want to be brought back. Not like that.
“Please,” he said instead, “Take care of him.”
Hua Cheng eyed him curiously. “You don't want me to punish him? Tear him apart? It'd be easy.” He gently wiggled the black pouch in his hand. “He’s hardly a soul at all right now. I’d just have to open this bag and he'd be gone forever.”
“No!” The words were out of his mouth before his lips could smooth out the desperation in his voice. Grief wracked his body again, almost as if it were brand new, and this time he found himself on the floor not to worship his god, but because his knees could no longer keep him upright. “Don't let him suffer any more.” His voice was ragged, filled with more emotion than it ever had been before. “Please.”
“This is the man you love, right? Lan Wangji.” Hua Cheng sounded solemn, but there was an indescribable twinkle in his eye. “You’ve told us a lot about him.”
The surprise that Hua Cheng not only knew him, but had paid attention to his prayers, is perhaps too deeply embarrassing to think about. Lan Wangji’s ears burned. “Yes.”
Hua Cheng tapped the black pouch, as if he were thinking deeply about something. Then he shrugged. “I’ll keep him safe until he’s needed again. But you have to do something for me, too.”
Lan Wangji was pretty sure that that’s not how prayers worked, but he didn't have the heart to argue with the god - god! - who had agreed to protect Wei Ying. “Anything you ask.”
Crimson Rain Sought Flower was a strange god, in that he was technically more demon than divine. Perhaps that was why he wanted something from Lan Wangji. And perhaps that something would be too precious to live without.
The thought of a life without Wei Ying was more torturous than anything else he could lose. He was prepared to sacrifice whatever was needed.
Hua Cheng’s face softened somewhat, as if he could read the heartbroken cultivator’s thoughts. “I could easily take care of both of them, but I really don't want to. There's a child here - one that’s still alive. Barely.” He gestured with one hand to a smaller cave further in the back. “He’s asleep.”
What? Lan Wangji frowned.
Hua Cheng clearly understood the unasked question. “A shattered spirit is easier for me to handle than a human child.” He smiled, revealing a single pointed fang. “I don't have to remember to feed a soul.”
The despair in Lan Wangji’s chest was waylaid for a single second as a sudden, insane hope shocked through him. He brushed past Hua Cheng, all devout thoughts thrown out the window in his desperate rush to see-
A-Yuan.
He did not look well. His face was too pale, and his breathing was labored. Lan Wangji did not spare a single moment in reaching the child’s side.
… What good could he do, as broken as he was? He could hardly feel A-Yuan’s fever through his own. He inhaled deeply through his nose and turned to Hua Cheng. “I’m not fit to take care of him.”
That was the painful truth - he was in no state to nurture a toddler. Despair swooped in again and hit him like a tidal wave. He was in no shape to be of help to anyone. He had barely managed to drag himself to the Burial Mounds, and what had he even planned on doing here? Was he really pulled here by the need to look for Wei Wuxian’s body? To memorize this dismal place so he could live a full life knowing the man he’d loved was gone forever, taken from him in the most brutal, terrifying death imaginable?
No.
He had come here to die.
Away from his brother’s sympathy, from his uncle’s fury, from his clan’s judgement. He had known for a long time that his morals no longer quite matched up with the rules he had been taught since birth. The idea of living on with that disconnect, of suffering under the weight of pressure that his entire sect has placed on him, it was too tiring to bear.
Wei Ying was gone. He had been a good man, and he had been killed for it. Lan Wangji could not stand to live in this world that hated justice.
But if he was being honest, it was the thought of a world without Wei Ying that truly broke him.
Hua Cheng snorted. “You’re the only one who can.” He held a hand out to Lan Wangji. “I’ve already made my decision. I’ll keep his soul safe if you look after the kid.” He shook the small bag lightly. “If you disagree, or go back on our deal - and I’ll know - I’ll just feed him to my friend.”
This was not how it was supposed to go. At the edge of his rope, Lan Wangji found himself blinking back tears. “I don’t want to.” He just wanted to rest. The pain in his heart was nearly a physical thing, and the pain in his back was all too physical, and he was just so tired.
“Too bad.” Hua Cheng paused, then, and took a long look at the mortal man. Lan Wangji did not know what he saw, but after a moment, he softened. “I know what it’s like to live in a world that hates the one you love most.” He reached out a hand and placed it, surprisingly gentle, on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. What shocked him the most was that it didn’t hurt. “You will see him again.”
“How do you know that?” He couldn’t help the way his voice shook, gravelly with emotion.
Hua Cheng held the bag up between them again. “You know who I am. Are you doubting my word?”
Crimson Rain Sought Flower was not typically known as a liar. For something as important, precious, delicate as this…
“I will take the child.” Lan Wangji found himself speaking before the words had fully formed in his mind. “Please take care of Wei Ying.” He looked over to A-Yuan, to his new responsibility, his new reason to keep going. He looked back at the small black pouch in Hua Cheng’s hand. How could something so small contain someone so important? “Please don’t let him fade away.”
New strength suddenly filled his weary bones. He looked up, shocked, to see Hua Cheng smiling at him. His hand was still on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.
It was warm.
Hua Cheng nodded.
“This should be enough to get you two home.”
Wherever he was, it was still dark, but somehow… warm. When he came to, this time he wasn’t scared. Just warm, and dreamlike, and a little confused.
Are you awake? The voice-that-wasn’t was back. It’s been some time.
Who are you? Wei Wuxian couldn’t deny that he was curious. And… where am I?
There was a period of silence, and for a moment, Wei Wuxian feared he had made the whole thing up. Maybe he’d snapped, and he was all alone in the Demon Slaughtering Cave. Or maybe he really was dead, and he was being punished for all the terrible things he’d done.
And boy, he’d done a lot of terrible things.
But the voice finally returned. That’s a complicated couple of questions, they said, You’re in a spirit-trapping pouch. I’m just a friend.
Well, that was weird. I have no friends. They all died or hated him, now. Perhaps this was some demonic cultivator, who had hoped that capturing the dregs of the Yiling Laozu’s spirit would grant them some sort of boon. A stupid hope - but an understandable one.
Hm. Then just call me gege. Despite an entire lack of visual cues, Wei Wuxian could tell this was said with a smile.
… Wei Wuxian had never met a wannabe demonic cultivator who could be so bold. Besides himself, of course. You know I’m not teaching you anything, right? My method of cultivation dies with me. Now if only he could actually, you know, move on.
That’s fine. The voice didn’t seem bothered in the least. I don’t need to cultivate.
Everything Wei Wuxian learned about this mysterious savior - or were they a captor? - made him more and more curious. If he’d had a body, he’d feel like he was about to explode.
Who didn’t cultivate, but kept a spirit-trapping pouch on them? Who could communicate with spirits? None of it made any sense.
For a single second, Wei Wuxian thought of gods. He threw the idea away immediately - no heavenly being would waste their time on a forsaken soul like his own.
Do you want to know what’s going on out here? The voice asked. It’s been a few years. You’ve missed out on a lot.
Wei Wuxian had no particular interest in learning about the outside world. He mostly just wanted to fade away, to end this existence and never inflict his presence on other people again.
Sure , he said anyways, because despite being dead, he still loved some good gossip.
Did you hear? Gege said one day, Jin Guangshan died.
Wei Wuxian, about to complain that of course he hadn’t heard, gege was his only source of information, but the actual news stopped him short. What? That old lecher finally bit it? Though immortality was the goal of all cultivators, Wei Wuxian had always thought that Jin Guangshan was more interested in the other aspects of being the head of a rich, famous, and powerful sect. Immortality never seemed to be on Jin Guangshan’s mind. Women, however…
Yeah. It was bad, too. Apparently he died doing what he loved. Gege didn’t sound too amused. At least, that’s that the people are saying.
Wei Wuxian knew all about what ‘the people’ said about him after he died. The difference between him and Jin Guangshan, however, was that he had died a virgin. For the sake of his own pride, Wei Wuxian decided not to crack that joke to gege. So, who’s in charge of the sect now? Politics was always a nice route when you couldn’t think of anything else to say, right?
I don’t think you know him very well. Jin Guangyao? He was right - Wei Wuxian had heard of Jin Zixuan’s half-brother - who wouldn’t? He’d made quite the name for himself - but he had never spent much time getting to know the guy. It had never seemed important.
Well, look at him now. Sect leader.
It should have been Jin Zixuan.
Gege, Wei Wuxian said, quite a long time later, Will you ever let me go?
It wasn’t that Wei Wuxian was unhappy. He was always a little unhappy, of course - anyone would, with a death like that weighing over their nonexistent shoulders - but it had been so long now that the initial pangs had truly faded with time.
Blame Wei Wuxian’s memory. Bad memories always faded away faster than anything else.
But he had been in the spirit-trapping pouch for a while, to put it lightly. It had been so long that the pieces of his soul had mostly put themselves back together. If the bag were opened, there was next to no chance that he would fade away. If anything he’d just become a ghost and finally be able to meet the gege who saved him.
To be fair, he hadn’t asked to be saved. And at the time, he hadn’t particularly wanted to be saved, either. But if you spend enough time in a bag with only a mysterious disembodied voice to keep you (a different disembodied voice) company, you start to remember that maybe life wasn’t so bad.
Not that you want to go back to living, god fucking forbid. No, just that existence isn’t in and of itself a particularly cruel method of torture.
I wouldn’t let you out of this bag for any reason. You would probably destroy my house in less than an hour.
Wei Wuxian felt the bubbling warmth that always came with gege’s jokes. You’re probably right.
That, gege said, his voice taking on a different tone, and I kind of made a promise not to.
What? Who? Why? Despite their gossip over the years (had it been years? He honestly had no way of telling), gege had never mentioned anyone else knowing where Wei Wuxian was. Was it Jiang Cheng? Is this really a prison? It doesn’t feel like it. You’re a terrible jailer.
Gege laughed - it didn’t seem particularly cruel, and it didn’t sound like the kind of laugh that a terrible person would have.
No, he said, Nothing like that .
Then why did you make that promise? Wei Wuxian was confused.
There is someone out there who truly loves you. Gege made it sound like it was the most normal thing in the world. I made a promise to that person. Then, with a hint of mischief, Also because of the property damage thing. It’s mostly that one.
Who would love Wei Wuxian enough to make a deal with someone like gege? Over time, he had come to learn that gege was… not the easiest person to get along with. There were moments when he seemed almost familiar, but Wei Wuxian’s memory was bad at the best of times, and he just couldn’t put a face to that cocksure voice.
He knew that asking would never get him an answer, not with how vaguely it had been stated in the first place. But…
Tell me who loves me? It was worth a shot.
Gege laughed again and did not answer.
Hello?
Huh, this voice was new. Wei Wuxian pulled himself out of his usual half-asleep state. Who are you? Where’s gege?
Oh, I’m just watching over you until San Lang gets back. This new voice was different. You call him gege? They snorted.
He told me to call him that, Wei Wuxian said defensively, And you still haven’t told me who you are.
The other voice laughed nervously. Haha, I’m sorry about that - my name is Xie Lian. You are Wei Wuxian, right?
Gege had never been forthcoming about his real name. For this new person to so easily introduce himself, Wei Wuxian didn’t know if he was relieved or suspicious. Where did gege go? Who are you to him?
Xie Lian made a noise that sounded suspiciously like surprise. He never told you about me?
No, he doesn't tell me much about himself. Wei Wuxian had never had a problem with that. Idle chat about sect leaders dying was much more entertaining than discussing his own sordid past, and he’d kind of assumed that gege felt much the same way.
Well, I’m his husband. San Lang went to see his… friend. Xie Lian paused. He was worried they might try to eat you.
So he’s not a cultivator, but he can talk to spirits, and he has a friend that… would try to eat them? Wei Wuxian would never be able to figure out what was going on, not even in a thousand years.
And - husband?? Who knew.
But that tiny thought he’d tried to throw away still screamed of gods.
Xie Lian was nice. His name, much like gege’s voice, tickled at his memories.
Gege, are you sure you can’t tell me about the person that loves me? Wei Wuxian begged. It’s been so long, are they even alive anymore?
That had been a gamble. Wei Wuxian really had no clue how long it had been since he’d died.
It’s only been thirteen years, gege chuckled, that’s nothing. They're still alive.
Well, at least he got one question answered. Are they even a cultivator? Do I know them? He still found it hard to believe that anyone could feel love for him - especially in the cultivation world. His name, as far as gege had told him, was no better than a curse nowadays.
They’re very kind, gege said at last, and they have never stopped loving you.
How do you know? Wei Wuxian would frown, if he could.
I consider them an old friend. So out of courtesy, that’s all that I’ll say.
Wei Wuxian had never wished for a body more than in that moment, so that he could kick at the ground and wail. Some gossip about him that he wouldn’t mind hearing, and he can’t know the juicy details because of something like courtesy?! I’m dead! He whined. It’s not like this person has a chance with me anymore!
You never know, gege said, nonchalant, One day you may break out of this pouch and go looking for them. Then where would I be?
I'd burn your place down first, Wei Wuxian huffed. Then he got an idea. If I ever do get out of here, will you tell me?
I won’t help you escape. Gege sounded like he was laughing. But if you can make it out on your own, then sure.
But before Wei Wuxian could get started on planning his jailbreak, something grabbed a hold of him and yanked. He yelped - more out of surprise and pain than anything else. After so long, the sensation of feeling was so foreign to him that it felt no better than needles prickling his skin.
Wei Wuxian? Gege sounded worried. What happened? Are you all right?
The spirit-trapping pouch, once comfortably warm, grew to a heat that was nearly unbearable. It felt as if the pouch itself was rumbling, and strange words filled Wei Wuxian’s head - in a voice that was not his, gege’s, or Xie Lian’s. Yiling Laozu, the voice chanted, I offer you my-
No. No no no. The idea of breaking out had been not much more than a joke, a passing fancy, but something told Wei Wuxian that he was about to be freed in a very real, very uncomfortable way.
Wei Wuxian! Gege had never yelled before. What’s going on?
I - I think I’m being summoned. Wei Wuxian could hear the voice calling him, could feel demonic energy grasping at him hungrily. He scrambled to find any sort of purchase, but he could grab hold of nothing at all. He struggled to keep himself calm even as he wanted to yell and cling to gege for safety.
That’s impossible. You shouldn’t be able to be summoned. I made sure of that . Wei Wuxian could picture gege grasping his spirit pouch tightly in his hands. At least, that's what he hoped gege was doing.
Didn’t I ever tell you the Yunmeng Jiang Sect motto? Wei Wuxian responded, distractingly light despite fear clawing its way through his soul. Attempt the impossible. There’s always someone out there willing to try. He didn’t want to meet this person. He didn’t want to be seen as a monster, as some sort of beast forced to do some demonic cultivator’s bidding.
I don’t care what some sect motto is! This shouldn’t - gege’s voice cut off, then returned a second later. You’re being summoned by one of your own arrays!
It shouldn’t have surprised either of them as much as it had. Thirteen years had passed. Demonic cultivation had never gone completely away, and there was always bound to be someone out there who’d stumble onto his more theoretical works and decide to give it a try. But perhaps that’s where fear grew the strongest. What kind of person had attempted this ritual? What did they want from Wei Wuxian? What kind of world would he be thrust into? Gege had told him bits and pieces, but no matter how much they may have idly gossiped about the outside world, he knew nothing would be able to prepare him for what he was about to see.
Wei Wuxian could tell gege was worried. Don’t freak out, Wei Wuxian said, and if he could have smiled, he’d offer gege his biggest, And don’t forget our promise. Next time we meet, you have to tell me who loves me!
The pulling sensation grew stronger, and stronger still - they didn’t have much time left. Thank you, Wei Wuxian added, almost as an afterthought.
Don’t die again, gege responded stiffly, your ugly spirit-trapping pouch was a real cramp on my style.
That was the last thing gege said before the spirit pouch ripped open and his soul was torn out of it.
All Wei Wuxian saw was red.
Wei Wuxian’s second life was plagued with strange dreams. When they weren’t nightmares of his previous life, they were… peaceful. Dark. Accompanied by an unplaceable voice that spoke too softly for him to make out the words.
He woke up from those dreams thoroughly confused and, oddly enough, somewhat homesick.
Lan Zhan did not hear about those dreams for many years. There was something special about them, something sacred that Wei Wuxian wanted to keep just for himself.
It all began at a small inn, far away from home. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had been traveling - seeing the sights, finding the chaos, making out on every tree between here and the Cloud Recesses - and had just bought a room for the night (along with dinner, and a jar of wine, as per Wei Wuxian’s request). They sat together at the table and for once, Wei Wuxian was content to sit quietly and think about all the things he wanted his husband to do to him later that night.
“- and nobody’s ever seen him again!” A small crowd of travellers, all in various stages of drunkenness, were gathered around what seemed to be an incredibly blasted local. “People’ve looked for him around that spot, but there’s not even a trace left.”
Lan Wangji’s brow raised a fraction of a centimeter. Wei Wuxian grinned and hauled himself up from the table to saunter over to the raucous storyteller. “Are you sure this man didn’t just run away?”
The local peered up at him warily. “And leave his wife and daughter behind? I doubt it.”
“Lots of people run away for lots of reasons. What was his home life like? Was he well off? Was he well-liked?” Wei Wuxian sat himself down and immediately became the center of attention. “Otherwise, what - are you suggesting he was snatched away by evil spirits?”
“Yes!” The drunkard slammed his jar on the table and tilted in the other direction. “You must be new, huh?” He sneered. “This kind of thing happens all the time ‘round here.”
Wei Wuxian shrugged and beamed a winning smile at him. “We’re just traveling.” It looked like they’d stumbled across quite a bit of chaos.
“And you haven’t heard of the cursed Ghost City?” He narrowed his eyes at Wei Wuxian and took a sloppy sip of his drink.
Wei Wuxian strategically turned in his seat so he could get a look at his husband’s face. Lan Wangji looked mildly interested - so he definitely knew about it. As for himself, Wei Wuxian had never been too good with old legends and wive’s tales, so most of them slipped his mind. He turned back to the local and tapped his hand against the table. “Nah, not really. What is it?”
The local snorted and tipped back his jar. After the last drop had been consumed, he slammed the jar back down on the table. Nobody made a move to grab it from him. “It’s been rumored about for centuries - a place where ghosts are more common than humans. It’s easy to find your way in, but hard to get back out.” He looked meaningfully up at Wei Wuxian.
… Who just smiled. “If it’s so easy to get in, how come more people haven’t done it?” Ahh, this kind of conversation felt vaguely familiar. “Who’s actually seen this place?”
The man spluttered incoherently and slapped the table a few times. One of the inn attendants came over to clean up the mess he’d made of the table and gently let him know it was time to head home.
After the drunkard had shuffled his way out of the inn, Wei Wuxian sat back down with his husband. Their food was still slightly warm, so he found no problem in digging in. “So what’s this Ghost City?” Wei Wuxian asked, his mouth full. Lan Wangji said nothing and sipped at his tea. He looked pointedly at the food.
Wei Wuxian finished chewing and swallowed. Lan Wangji still did not talk. With a sigh, Wei Wuxian dug in and ate his fill as quickly as possible. “Your cup’s still empty, by the way,” he said as he shoveled food into his mouth.
“No it’s not.” Lan Wangji took a sip to prove it.
“Hah!” Wei Wuxian grinned. “You talked.”
Lan Wangji did not say another word until later, once they were settled into their room.
“The Ghost City is where the Ghost King and the Crown Prince live.” Lan Wangji ran his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair. Wei Wuxian was in the bath, while Lan Wangji - regrettably - sat outside the tub. “Theoretically.”
“Ghost King? Crown Prince?” Wei Wuxian frowned. “Am I supposed to know these people?”
Lan Wangji let out a soft breath that was more a smile than a sigh. “They’re gods.”
“Oh. Then why do they live in the Ghost City?”
Lan Wangji pressed a spot on the back of Wei Wuxian’s head that made his bones turn to mush. He melted against the wall of the tub with a soft little moan. “Contrary to popular belief,” Lan Wangji said, “I don’t have all the answers.”
Well, that was fine with Wei Wuxian. “Want to go find it and find out?”
There was a moment of quiet while Lan Wangji pondered the question. Then, “Mn.”
Wei Wuxian smiled and leaned back to look up at his husband. “I guess we’ll start looking tomorrow!”
“Mn.”
With that settled, Wei Wuxian let out a content breath and reached up to grab a hold of the hand that had been carding through his hair. “Do you want to join me? The water’s getting cold. You should help me heat it up.”
The tips of Lan Wangji’s ears went red. “That’s now how heating water works.”
“It’ll warm me up.” He winked. “You, too.”
Lan Wangji shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “This is not our home. It would be rude to make a mess.”
Wei Wuxian let out a sad, pathetic whine, but Lan Wangji pressed that spot on the back of his head again and it turned into a louder, longer moan. “I will warm you up after your bath.”
There were no more complaints from Wei Wuxian after that.
The cool night air was a nice change from the warmth of their room. Not that Wei Wuxian was complaining - after all, he liked the heat. As a Yunmeng disciple, he had grown up with oppressively humid weather, and in his adult life it brought him nothing more than a faint homesickness and an extremely mild discomfort.
But that was neither here nor there. It was time to find the fabled Ghost City.
“So apparently he was walking this path when he disappeared,” Wei Wuxian gestured to the lightly-trodden ground they followed, “It must have been one inauspicious night.”
Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes in curiosity. “Can we replicate it?”
“I kind of doubt it.” Wei Wuxian tapped a foot against the ground and pouted. “There's not much to go off of. Just that he was here one minute and apparently gone the next.” He looked further down the path. “I guess all we can do is keep walking.”
He pulled out his demonic compass just to check, though a sudden spike in demonic activity was highly unlikely. He’d checked a few minutes ago, and-
The needle twitched. It shakily pointed down the very path they were walking. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered excitedly, “I don't know about a Ghost City, but we’ve got something up ahead.”
Lan Wangji unsheathed Bichen and let his sword glare lead the way into the forest. They walked further down the dirt path, and the thick greenery grew even more dense around them. Soon it was as if the darkness had swallowed them up completely, and the only light available came from Bichen’s soft glow.
A soft whimper broke the unnatural silence. The two hurried forward, worried but still careful. There were many types of beast that could imitate an injured human.
It was Lan Wangji who found them first - a little girl sat on the ground next to a tree, holding onto one leg with both hands. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she made barely a noise, as if she too knew this forest was filled with danger.
Lan Wangji found himself at an impasse - here was a young, injured girl in the middle of the woods in the dead of night. There was no way she was a real human being. But until he exposed the monster for what it was, there was always a slim chance it really was just a scared, lost child.
“Hello.” He knelt down by the girl. Wei Wuxian heard his voice and made his way over. “What are you doing out here?” Lan Wangji asked, because he did not know what else to say.
The girl sniffled and pointed a few feet away, where a broken doll lay dejectedly on the ground. “The boys stole her and threw her up in the tree,” she sniffled, “Mama and Papa wouldn’t let me climb up there to get her back, so I snuck out.”
Lan Wangji nodded solemnly. “That was very brave of you.” Foolish, perhaps, but a potentially terrified little girl didn’t need to be berated when she probably had a broken leg.
Wei Wuxian swooped in and rested a gentle, supportive hand on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing. Make sure to teach those boys a lesson.” He surreptitiously took out his demonic compass.
The needle pointed straight at the broken doll. He shared a look with his husband and pocketed the compass. “You’re lucky you ran into us. My husband can take you home, okay?” He patted Lan Wangji again. “He’s very strong, you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“What about my doll?” The girl reached out for it.
Wei Wuxian knelt down next to her, conveniently blocking her path to the doll. “I’ll take care of her. Look, she’s all torn up. I can fix her up and give her back to you tomorrow.”
“No!” The little girl squirmed around him. “I need her!”
“Okay, okay!” Wei Wuxian moved with her, then scooped up the doll himself. “I’ll carry her, and Hanguang-jun there can carry you. You wouldn’t want to make him carry you both, now would you?”
“It would be very difficult.” Lan Wangji agreed.
Wei Wuxian felt his heart flutter. Perhaps the old rumors were true, and he was irredeemably evil. Watching Lan Wangji lie to children gave him a kick like nothing else.
The girl sniffled again for a moment, and Wei Wuxian was certain she was about to burst into tears - but she swallowed her cries and nodded sullenly. “Okay.”
“Okay, great!” Wei Wuxian stood back up as Lan Wangji picked her up. “We’ll take you back to the village. I’m sure your parents are worried sick.”
“I don’t live in the village,” the girl said. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian shared a look.
“Do you know how to get home from here?” Lan Wangji asked. The girl nodded and pointed forward.
Following her lead, they walked deeper into the forest. Wei Wuxian walked behind Lan Wangji so that he could fiddle with the doll away from the girl’s prying eyes. Whatever it was, it didn’t react to any of his poking or prodding. He didn’t pay attention to their surroundings at all as they travelled, only following after the white robes of his husband.
Which was why he was caught off-guard when they suddenly stopped. He looked up and saw that they stood at the mouth of a large cave.
“Oh, this looks promising.” He jokingly elbowed Lan Wangji.
“No, it doesn’t.” Lan Wangji frowned.
The cave had a sign post above it that read ‘STORAGE’. What looked like a human arm could be seen on the mouth of the cave, with no body attached.
The little girl started wriggling. Lan Wangji held onto her tightly (well, as tightly as he could without hurting her), but she somehow evaded his grip and fell onto the ground.
Wei Wuxian would have made a joke, but that was when he noticed that the little girl that was writhing around on the ground was no longer a little girl. It grew thick, burly legs, muscled arms, and a massive head with a mouth filled to the brim with sharp teeth.
Before he had time to react, the monster shoved Wei Wuxian aside and grabbed the doll from his hands.
Lan Wangji wasted no time in unsheathing Bichen. His sword glare cut the air, and the beast’s arm went flying to the ground. It roared in pain, but still held tightly onto the doll with its other hand.
Wei Wuxian pulled Suibian out of its sheath, but stayed back in a defensive position.
It had been years since he’d come back from the dead, and he had a golden core, but it was still somewhat weak. Blame that, or blame the fact that he hadn’t fought like this in years, or just blame the Wens yet again, but picking up his sword to fight always filled him with the sense of dread.
But Lan Wangji did not need help in taking down a giant monster. He had faced worse beasts and come out completely unscathed. It roared in fury and pain again and continued its attack. Lan Wangji, as always, gracefully slipped out of the way.
The fight continued for a few moments - perhaps a few moments too long. Lan Wangji was flashier than normal, as if he was showing off.
Was this -
Was he flirting? At a time like this?!
“Lan er-gege, what’s taking you so long?” Wei Wuxian found himself smiling. “If you want to spar with me, all you had to do was ask.”
That was all it took. Lan Wangji assumed the offensive and was about to deal a clean finishing blow -
A silver butterfly landed on his sword and he froze. The monster saw the butterfly and instantly dropped into a bow.
Wei Wuxian had no idea what just happened.
A man clad in red walked into the clearing.
Something inside Wei Wuxian clicked. It was a simple thought, one that he didn’t notice until after it had passed: Ah, there you are.
Who was this man? Then Wei Wuxian remembered - Lan Wangji had a small shrine in the jingshi. On it were two small portraits of a pair of gods. One of them looked eerily similar to this man. Usually once a day Lan Wangji would sit down, light a stick of incense, and meditate until the incense stopped burning. Wei Wuxian had joined him a few times, but he’d never been one to worship gods.
Before his resurrection, he hadn’t even been one to respect gods.
He strolled in between the two fighting parties. Lan Wangji was quick to sheathe his sword and bow his head. “Crimson Rain Sought Flower.”
The man laughed. It was crisp and clear and it made Wei Wuxian’s head hurt. “You can call me Hua Cheng.” He looked down at the monster - more specifically, he looked down at the doll. “And you can call me Master.”
The beast prostrated itself flat on the ground. “Sir! What are you doing out here?” Its voice, oddly enough, still sounded like the little girl’s.
“I caught wind that one of my devoted followers was being attacked by some thug. Is it so wrong to check on my people?”
“Oh, masterful lord Hua Cheng!” The monster sat up, fat tears dripping from its face. “These awful cultivators are trying to ruin my business! Thank you so much!”
Hua Cheng chuckled. “I’m not here for you.” He turned to Lan Wangji and gave him a small nod. “It is nice to see you again, Lan Wangji.”
Hold on.
“You two know each other?!” Wei Wuxian sheathed his sword and ran over to them. “Lan Zhan, why didn’t you tell me you knew a god?”
Lan Wangji shrugged. “It never came up.” He looked at the monster, who looked just as shocked as Wei Wuxian, then looked back to Hua Cheng. “I apologize for the disturbance.”
Hua Cheng waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I see you’ve been treated inhospitably by one of my own. I’ll take them back to my place and punish them accordingly.” He snatched the doll out of the monster’s hand, and the giant beast crumbled away into dust. “You’re free to come along.”
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji shared a look.
“Sure.” Wei Wuxian gave him a small bow. “I’m Wei Wuxian.”
Hua Cheng smiled. “I know.”
Weird. Wei Wuxian tapped a foot on the ground and just kind of pretended he hadn’t heard that. “Do you live nearby?” He really couldn’t imagine this literal actual god living so close to the dump they were standing in.
“It’s a bit of a walk.” Hua Cheng pulled a pair of dice out of his pockets. “We don’t have to worry about that.”
Paradise Manor was… well, definitely someone’s idea of paradise. Once they had arrived in the lavish manor (“You can do that with a pair of dice?!” Wei Wuxian was thrilled. Lan Wangji had looked ill.), Hua Cheng turned around to face Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. He clenched his fist and crushed the doll to dust in his palm.
“Well, now that that’s been taken care of.” He wiped his hands off and gave them a small, performative bow. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Wei Wuxian’s stomach growled. It was late, far later than dinner should be eaten, but certain exceptions must be made. Like, when a god asks you to eat dinner with him, you eat dinner with him.
Hua Cheng settled them into a room with plush seating pillows and a jet black table. It was already stocked with tea and filled with dishes that all had a dangerously red sheen to them. He sat down and inclined his head at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji expectantly.
They sat at the other end of the table. Wei Wuxian wasted no time in grabbing a plate and stuffing his mouth.
“Wei Wuxian.” Hua Cheng gave him a strange smile, as if he had given the man a once-over and decided that he liked what he saw. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I’m confused.” Wei Wuxian said, because he was confused. “I don’t really know who you are. I mean, I kind of do, but why do you know me?”
Hua Cheng’s eye slid over to Lan Wangji. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That… made sense, in a way. He was a god, right? He’d get lots of prayers. “Hopefully not all bad.” Wei Wuxian choked down the urge to smile nervously and instead reached down to hold Lan Wangji’s hand, who gently squeezed him back.
“I have heard a lot of bad in my line of work.” Hua Cheng took a slow sip of tea. “But not about you.”
Even though it had been a long, long time since his days as the Yiling Laozu, even though his wounds were as healed as they would ever be, even though it should have surprised him… Wei Wuxian couldn’t help the feeling of relief that bloomed in his chest. “Oh. That’s good.”
The door opened a crack and another young man stepped into the room. “San Lang?”
Hua Cheng brightened up, and for the first time, a real smile lit his face. “Gege, we have guests.”
Gege? Wei Wuxian’s headache came back in full force. He’d heard that before, in that tone, in that voice.
He’d heard San Lang before, too. Where? He’d never met these people. He turned to Lan Wangji - perhaps he’d be of more help - but his husband had gone unusually pale once the other man had walked into the room.
Upon a second glance, this looked like the other portrait that was on Lan Wangji’s shrine. So… this must be Xie Lian.
With everything that had happened in Wei Wuxian’s life, it was a shame that meeting real-life gods did not shock him into silence. “Are we supposed to know you?” Wei Wuxian asked Hua Cheng. “I mean, sure, we know of you. But - are we familiar? Have we met before?” He turned to Lan Wangji and sighed at his husband’s pallor. He tapped Lan Wangji on the cheek and shook his head sadly. “We found what we came here to find, and you’re all shut up like a clam. Is it really this horrible to meet your idols?”
Lan Wangji closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.
“You were looking for us?” Xie Lian sat down next to Hua Cheng and poured himself a cup of tea. Or, he would have, except that Hua Cheng had poured it before Xie Lian could even reach out to grab the tea. “What for?”
“I wanted to know why, if you’re gods, you live in a place called the Ghost City.” Under the table, Wei Wuxian rubbed his thumb against Lan Wangji’s wrist. “Lan Zhan didn’t know, so we figured we’d ask.”
“You found your way into our home… just to ask why we live here?” Hua Cheng hid his expression behind his tea cup.
Wei Wuxian shrugged. “Well, we got sidetracked on the way here. You know how it goes.” Following the chaos often had that side effect.
“Well, congratulations.” Xie Lian smiled at them. “Luck must have been on your side tonight.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Wei Wuxian frowned thoughtfully at them. “Famously, luck is rarely on my side.”
Xie Lian nodded. “I understand.” He looked to Hua Cheng. “But that can easily change.”
“I guess so.” Wei Wuxian turned back to his food. He stopped with the chopsticks halfway to his mouth and sat up straight. “Hey, since we’re here, we should go sightseeing!”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji moved the bowl so that the food he was eating didn’t drop onto the table.
Hua Cheng nodded. “But you probably shouldn’t be out and about my Ghost City without one of us to keep you company.”
“Do you really think so little of us?” Wei Wuxian frowned. “We don’t just go around killing every ghost we meet, you know.”
That got Hua Cheng to laugh. “No, of course not. But this city is large, and I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“Hm. That’s fair.” Wei Wuxian finally got some food in his mouth. There was a moment of blessed silence, but then he had to go and talk again, this time with a mouth full of food. “Oh, where did you and Lan Zhan meet?”
Lan Wangji’s grip on his cup tightened. “Burial Mounds.” He looked away. “After the first siege.”
“Oh… oh .” Wei Wuxian chewed - literally and figuratively - for a second. “You met a god at the Burial Mounds and you didn’t tell me?” To be honest, he was mostly surprised.
Lan Wangji’s brows lowered a fraction of a degree - Wei Wuxian knew that look well. Guilt. “Are you upset?”
“No!” Wei Wuxian grinned. “I’m impressed. You’ve kept that secret for decades. From me!”
The guilty look on his face receded, replaced by something that looked dangerously close to smugness. “It was very difficult.”
Hua Cheng turned to Xie Lian and gestured to the two cultivators. “See? They turned out just fine.”
Wei Wuxian kissed his husband over his forehead ribbon. “I’m so proud of you.” He then turned to Hua Cheng and pointed at him with an accusing finger. “But what were you doing at the Burial Mounds?”
“I’m one of the Ghost Kings. The Burial Mounds are full of dead people.” Hua Cheng smiled sweetly at him. “Wouldn’t it be more strange if I had never been?”
“I see.” Wei Wuxian didn’t believe that for a second. Hua Cheng had been nothing but fake this entire time. Normally, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t even bother with someone like that, all petty smiles and word games, but Hua Cheng was different. Because that smile wasn’t always petty or superior - it was soft, and filled with all the love in the world, but only when he looked at Xie Lian.
So maybe there was more to him than the fact that he was an immortal with too much time on his hands.
And there was something in the way he and Xie Lian looked at Wei Wuxian, too. Like they were checking up on him, or something, like they were worried .
But it didn’t seem like he would get anything else out of this little conversation. Both gods clearly wanted to stay tight-lipped about whatever connection they had, so… so be it. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t pry if they obviously didn’t want to explain.
Hah. As if.
Wei Wuxian stretched, reached his arms out and wrapped one around Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Lan er-gege, I’m tired. Will you fly us back to the inn?”
Before Lan Wangji could agree, Hua Cheng spoke up. “It’s late, and you may find it harder to exit the Ghost City than it was to enter. You’re free to stay in my manor for the night.”
Wei Wuxian did not miss the way Hua Cheng jumped when he said “gege”.
Interesting. Very interesting.
He once again dreamed of the darkness. It was like he was weightless, with no physical body to weigh him down. Gege? He said, Are you there? Except - he wasn’t the one talking. It was his voice, and he knew it was himself, but the words had not come directly from him. What kind of dream was this?
It didn’t surprise him, that he’d be calling out for Lan Zhan in this strange darkness. It did surprise him when somebody who was definitely not Lan Zhan responded.
Yeah, I’m here. There was that voice - for once crisp and clear and where had Wei Wuxian heard it before??
Wei Wuxian’s voice spoke up again, this time oddly gentle. Why did you… save me?
There was a moment of quiet before gege’s voice spoke again. Oh. Did I never tell you?
The dream Wei Wuxian snorted. Of course not. He paused, then continued. So, tell me. Why did you save me? After everything I’ve done? He waited a moment, then said, And I know about the promise. But why were you there in the first place?
You’re not as evil as you think. Gege started softly. It’s only natural that there are people out there who want to keep you safe.
You think there’s more than one? Wei Wuxian’s dream self laughed. Weren’t you just telling me about that celebration where a village burns a likeness of me to bring in a healthy crop?
Okay, gege responded, So most people hate your guts. But there are people out there who miss you, too. Just look at Jiang Cheng.
Even the current Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Hasn’t he been murdering people who try to copy my work?
He hasn’t murdered anybody. Gege sounded amused. How do you think he’s rebuilt his sect so quickly?
… Oh. Both the current and the dream Wei Wuxian felt the air knock out of their lungs - well, if either of them had lungs. Is it wrong of me to be proud of him?
No, gege said, I’ve seen older brothers do terrible things to keep their little brothers safe. Your love is not a terrible thing, Wei Wuxian.
That wasn’t the end of the conversation, but Wei Wuxian didn’t finish the rest of his dream. There was a soft light that slowly lit up the darkness, and both his and gege’s voices quietly faded away with it.
He woke up in Lan Wangji’s arms.
Lan Wangji was awake, so it must have been early in the morning. He had been running his hands through Wei Wuxian’s hair, and peppering soft kisses into the top of his head. “Good morning.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of Wei Wuxian’s ear.
“Mm. Good morning.” Wei Wuxian’s voice was thick with sleep. “Lan er-gege, I have a question.”
“I might have an answer.” Lan Wangji kissed the side of his head.
Wei Wuxian didn’t want to run this gentle morning, but he needed to know. “When you met, at the Burial Mounds.” He couldn’t ignore the way Lan Wangji went minutely stiff. “What did you talk about?”
Lan Wangji didn’t answer for a few minutes. He instead opted to kiss Wei Wuxian on his forehead, on his nose, on his cheeks and his lips. He pulled himself out from under his husband and positioned himself on top, so that he could better reach every part of him. One hand ran delicately down Wei Wuxian’s side, sparking goosebumps across his skin.
After he’d had his fill, he finally pulled away. He wiped away the trail of spit from his mouth and gave his husband a small and beautiful smile. “We talked about you.”
Wei Wuxian felt like he was on the edge of a precipice. Everything felt so big in this moment, as if a single word could shatter it all. There would be no consequence from ending this feeling, this moment, this importance , but he wanted it to last as long as possible. He reached out one hand and placed it on Lan Wangji’s cheek. “I hope it was all good things.”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji placed one of his hands over Wei Wuxian’s and closed his eyes.
They stayed there for a while longer. No words between them, just the morning light shed on their skin. The pieces had finally slotted into place. He didn’t remember anything specific - except for that dream, which maybe wasn’t a dream, considering everything. But he remembered that warmth, and that voice, and there was a part of him that knew without a doubt:
He knew Hua Cheng.
Breakfast was an interesting affair. The table was lined with all kinds of foods, once again - oddly - perfectly tailored to Wei Wuxian’s palate.
There was a small section of food that Lan Wangji could enjoy, as well.
“So,” Wei Wuxian had said, once Lan Wangji had piled his plate full of food, “Are we going sightseeing?”
“If you want.” Hua Cheng spoke breezily. “You can stay as long as you like.”
“We can stay for a day.” Lan Wangji spoke up. “We are expected home soon.”
“Oh, yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Uncle is bound to lose it if Lan Zhan misses another class.”
“He’s a student?” Xie Lian asked politely. He and Hua Cheng shared a look.
Lan Wangji shook his head. “I’m the teacher.”
“Ah.” Xie Lian hid his reaction by stuffing food into his mouth.
“You know, gege was a teacher once.” Hua Cheng smiled. “I’m sure he could give you some pointers.”
“Lan Zhan is great with kids,” Wei Wuxian replied, “We just like to travel.” He grinned. “Usually Uncle kicks us out after a few months. Says we’re too loud for the Cloud Recesses.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Hua Cheng said drily.
“What!” Wei Wuxian frowned. “I thought we were quiet last night.”
“No we weren’t,” Lan Wangji said.
“No, you weren’t,” Hua Cheng agreed.
Xie Lian stuffed more food in his mouth. “San Lang, this is delicious!” He said, maybe a little too loudly.
Food was eaten in silence for a few minutes.
“You can stay longer if you use the distance-shortening array.” Xie Lian said, after an acceptable amount of time had passed.
“What?” Wei Wuxian tilted his head. “Is that like the dice from last night?”
Hua Cheng just nodded. “The dice are my thing, but there’s another way to do it. I can teach you if you like.” He smirked. “Then you could come back here whenever you wanted.”
“Really?” Wei Wuxian beamed. “No, wait, you have to teach me. How does it work? Who created it? I-” He stopped himself. “Okay, this is big. Lan Zhan, think of all the places we could go!”
Lan Wangji said nothing, because speaking during meals was forbidden. But he did make a positive “mn” sound after he’d put his soup down, so he definitely agreed.
Hua Cheng looked at the food on Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “Are you going to finish that?”
“Um, yes? And yes, I am.” Wei Wuxian picked his bowl back up. “Yes.” He said again, because yes.
Hua Cheng saw the inspired spark in his face and couldn't help but give him a genuine smile. “Sounds good. We can get started after you finish eating.”
“This?” Wei Wuxian grabbed the chicken off of his bowl and shoved it in his mouth. “Okay, I’m done,” he said, mouth full. “Let’s go!”
Xie Lian chuckled and shook his head.
Hua Cheng and Wei Wuxian scampered off to another room, where Hua Cheng was going to teach the basics of the distance-shortening array. Apparently, it was slightly more complicated than it sounded.
However, that left Xie Lian and Lan Wangji with nothing to do.
“So,” Xie Lian placed his empty bowl down and placed his hands politely down on his lap. “You’re Lan Wangji.”
Lan Wangji felt his ears burn. “Yes.”
“You’ve been praying to us for a long time, haven’t you?” Xie Lian gave him a soft smile. “I’m glad to finally meet you. I was so jealous that San Lang had already met you before!”
The blush at the tips of his ears spread all the way down to his earlobes, and quickly crawled across the back of his neck. “It is an honor to meet you.”
Xie Lian gave him a little, funny look. “You don’t have to be scared. We won’t hurt you.”
“I’m not-” Lan Wangji spoke up too fast, his mouth moving before the words had finished forming in his brain, “- I’m not scared.” He took a deep breath. Xie Lian waited patiently for him to find the right words. “I have spent my whole life praying to you. There were times when I did not even believe you were real, yet I still prayed.” He looked down at the table, and stared at his own reflection in the shiny wood. “Do I even have the right to be so indebted to you? To Crimson Rain Sought Flower?”
And that was it. These gods were prayed to together - his promise, all those years ago, was made to Xie Lian as much as it was made to Hua Cheng. Xie Lian was just as responsible for saving his life.
How did he face that? How could he stand to speak to them without his forehead constantly touching the floor? His gratitude could level cities, if it were given the chance.
“You’re not indebted to us.” Xie Lian said quietly. “You never have been. San Lang likes you, you know.”
Those were not at all words that Lan Wangji had been prepared to hear. He looked up sharply, confused.
Xie Lian was smiling at him with the radiance of a sun. Lan Wangji had known he was speaking to a god, but it truly hit him in that moment that this man was absolutely divine. “He had tried to visit you so many times over the years, to check on you and that child. I always told him, ‘San Lang, you have to let them live their own lives!’ but it was a hard sell each time.”
“I would never break that promise.” It was imperative Xie Lian knew this, that Lan Wangji would always be a man of his word. But Xie Lian just chuckled again and waved a hand in the air.
“I know. He wasn’t checking on you because he doubted you.” He stood up from the table and picked his bowl up. “He may not look it, but he gets attached to people very easily.”
Lan Wangji followed suit in standing up and taking his empty bowl. After hearing that, only one question rang on repeat through his mind: “Why?”
“He tries to hide it, but don’t let him fool you.” Xie Lian led Lan Wangji out of the dining room. “He’s got a big heart.”
Somehow, Lan Wangji did not doubt that.
“All right,” Wei Wuxian said as soon as he and Hua Cheng got settled in a suspiciously empty room, “I think I know you.”
Hua Cheng didn’t react at all. “A distance-shortening array is fairly simple once you get the hang of it.”
“Hello?” Wei Wuxian waved a hand in front of his face. Hua Cheng turned so that he was waving his hand in front of the eyepatch. “Okay, I was joking. I know I know you.”
“Even so, there are quite a few places that you can’t get to through this method. My disgusting friend has a place that’s nearly impossible to reach.” Hua Cheng drew a shape on the ground with a handful of cinnabar. “You’re already pretty good with most arrays, so I won’t baby you on how to draw a circle.” He gestured to the space next to him. “Go on.”
“Pretty good?” Wei Wuxian scoffed, his interrogation momentarily forgotten. “I created more than a few originals back in my day.”
Hua Cheng snorted. “I’m a thousand years old. You’re pretty good.”
That seemed to be glowing praise in and of itself, so Wei Wuxian took it for the compliment that it was. He copied the design that Hua Cheng had drawn and made sure to memorize the movements, so he could draw it again in the future. “All right, I have the basics. What makes this one tick?”
“It’s simple enough to draw the array,” Hua Cheng started, “But in order to take a thousand miles in a single step, you’ll expend a lot of spiritual energy.”
Wei Wuxian wilted. Of course. The one thing he lacked. “Ah,” he said easily, “I guess I won’t be using it that often.” Hua Cheng was a god - how much was ‘a lot’ of spiritual energy to him? As a mortal, and even worse, a mortal with a still-weak golden core, how could he ever compare?
He had wondered why such a useful spell could have disappeared over the ages. Perhaps this was why.
Hua Cheng looked at him strangely for a moment. “Your Hanguang-jun there has more than enough to make it work.”
A small comfort. Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’d just like to be able to do it all myself, you know?”
“I understand.” There was something about the way Hua Cheng spoke that stopped Wei Wuxian short. In that moment, it seemed as if he truly did understand. “Believe me when I say that one day, you will.”
“Why?” Sure, he could trust Hua Cheng not to kill him (for some reason, that trust had come instantly), but that only went so far. Hua Cheng had shown he was not afraid to play games with mortals - as much as Wei Wuxian wanted to trust him, he still needed a reason.
“I think you know more than you’re letting on.” Hua Cheng said matter-of-factly. “You already know who I am to you. And yet you doubt me? I’m hurt.” He made an exaggerated frown.
“So you were listening earlier!” Wei Wuxian found joys in the smallest of things. “You - oh .” So he had been listening earlier. Suddenly very tired, Wei Wuxian sat down on the floor. Hua Cheng sat down next to him. This was Hua Cheng, the man who took him away from the Burial Mounds. The man who comforted him through his grief, through his own death, through the deaths of his loved ones. The man who protected him for years. He was safe, and he was warm, despite his chilly temperature. He was home, in a way few other people could be.
He looked up at Hua Cheng and felt some indescribable kind of emotion, powerful yet melancholic, well up in his chest. “Gege?”
“That’s what you called me.” His fake frown was long gone, replaced by a small - real - smile. “It’s always sad to see the young ones leave the nest. Or the spirits break out of the spirit-trapping pouch.” He patted Wei Wuxian on the shoulder. “But I knew you’d come back. You promised, you know.”
That sounded right. “I… don’t remember much.” Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, as if darkness would bring out some flood of memories of the time that he was dead.
It didn’t work. All he had was that dream.
“I didn’t expect you to.” He felt Hua Cheng’s hand squeeze his shoulder. He was so cold - were all gods like that? “But I did make a promise to you, even if you don’t remember it.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes popped open. “What? What was it?” That strange feeling hadn’t gone away, but he was nothing if not easily swept away by his whims.
Hua Cheng chuckled. “I was going to tell you the name of the person who loved you.”
That struck a chord. There was no memory, no clear words to recall, but deep down Wei Wuxian could feel the stirrings of that promise. “Oh.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t want to know.”
This did not come as a surprise to Hua Cheng. “Are you sure?” He asked, his lips still turned up with mirth. “You might like them.”
“But I love Lan Zhan, so-” Wei Wuxian paused. The rest of this morning caught up to him: Lan Wangji’s words in particular. “It was him, wasn’t it.”
Hua Cheng patted him on the head like one would pet a particularly cute pet, or child, or maybe both. “You got it in one, kid.”
“Good.” Wei Wuxian traced his finger around the array he’d just painted on the floor. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Hua Cheng shook his head good-naturedly. “Little Wangji is always doing that. It makes my skin crawl.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Wei Wuxian found laughter bubbling up in his chest. “He tried to thank me once, a long time ago. It just sounds so weird!”
Hua Cheng must have found his laughter infectious, because he broke out into a soft laugh as well. “How did you get him to stop?”
“Um, I don’t think it’ll work for you the way it worked for me,” Wei Wuxian said awkwardly, “He’s in love with me.”
“Then you have to tell him to stop it. I liked his prayers better from before he met me.” His laughter reached its zenith - a sharp cackle broke the air between them. “You know, he was one angry little kid. He wanted to hate you so badly when you two first met.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “He went from asking for you to leave to begging for you to stay so quickly. I think it happened in a single night. No, in a single prayer.” He laughed again and shook his head. “He feels things so strongly. You’re good for him.” He sighed then, a content little thing. “And he’s good for you.”
Wei Wuxian felt warmth in his chest. He didn’t need validation of any sort - he’d kind of lived both of his entire lives without it - but there was something special, maybe something sacred, about a god’s words. In lieu of thanks, he gently nudged Hua Cheng’s shoulder with his own. “We… can come back, right?” It may have been a casual joke earlier, but this time, there was something more in the question. Wei Wuxian wanted to come back. He wanted to see Hua Cheng, and Xie Lian, and the Ghost City. He wanted to see and touch this world that he’d been a part of before, only as an outsider looking in. Now he knew what gege looked like. He knew Xie Lian’s smile, and Hua Cheng’s eyeroll, and, and -
He felt welcomed there, with those people, in that city. It was a different kind of welcome than at the Cloud Recesses, or even in Lotus Pier.
It almost reminded him of days long-since faded in his mind, when he was just a child sitting on his father’s shoulders, when his mother rested a hand on his head, when he didn’t have to worry about his reputation, or his social standing, or anything else.
He wanted to come back.
Hua Cheng ruffled his hair and stood up. He smiled, wider than before, as if he’d hoped for the same thing.
“I promise.”
Wei Wuxian knew better than to doubt his word.