Chapter Text
Chapter 7
[November 2023 | May 25, 2026 version]
The holding cell that Lan Wangji had been confined to was built with cultivators in mind, and had thick walls and a reinforced door. Inside, there was only a raised slab that served as a cot.
The heavy door opened without warning, and Lan Wangji blinked in surprise to see Jiang Yanli enter. The heir of Meishan was the last person he had expected to visit his cell.
“A-Xian is leaving with Baoshan Sanren’s disciple,” Jiang Yanli said without preamble. “If you wish to go with him, you’d best come with me now.”
“I—” Cannot leave, Lan Wangji tried to say, but the words stuck in his throat, unwilling to leave his mouth.
Jiang Yanli’s calm gaze was knowing. “Second Young Master Lan,” she called quietly. “I have a reasonable guess why you allowed yourself to be taken to Qishan as a prisoner. But A-Xian loves you. And – forgive me – I think you return his feelings. Would you truly prefer that path to going with A-Xian?”
Her tone made it clear her question was not truly a question. She knew full well which path he preferred. But...aside from the matter of his older brother and Gusu, there were other lives involved in this matter as well. And he had no intention of making anyone else pay for his choices.
“It will cause trouble for Miss Wen, and for Meishan.”
Jiang Yanli’s eyes turned gentler at that. “I told A-Qing that I planned to set you free. She did not stop me, even when I gave her the chance.” Lan Wangji stared at her, both surprised and not. His relationship with Wen Qing was complicated, but he had always known she was a good person. “As for Meishan, it is my duty to protect it, not yours. Nor is it A-Xian’s. He has a greater duty to the world, and it is for the sake of fulfilling it that he now seeks out Baoshan Sanren. If Gusu is the duty you choose, I will not stop you. But I do ask you to consider this: your brother and Gusu have others who are willing to stand with them; A-Xian has no one else.”
No one could help Wei Wuxian with his duty, not truly. The work of a Shenwu was a secret passed down only from one Shenwu to the next, and even the famous Library Pavilion of the Cloud Recesses did not have detailed information on what being a Shenwu actually entailed. Lan Wangji knew there was little that he could do to help Wei Wuxian.
But Jiang Yanli was telling the truth, that Wei Wuxian had no one else by his side. His mother, who should have been the one to guide him and help him learn his duty, was long gone. Wei Wuxian had no living relative at all, save for one who was hell-bent on robbing him of his birthright, and perfectly willing to murder him for it.
“Forgive me, Second Young Master Lan. I wish I could give you more time. But if you mean to leave, you must come now.”
Looking at Jiang Yanli’s extended hand, Lan Wangji once again saw the two paths laid out before him, and the complex web of duty and sacrifice and love tangled around both. Try as he might, he could not see where the end lay for either of the paths. However...
One thing was clear: one path led him toward Wei Wuxian; the other path led him away from Wei Wuxian.
This might be the single most selfish decision Lan Wangji had ever made in his life. Yet, something inside him said it was the right one, that his duty was not to Gusu alone, but for the world. If he truly meant to repay Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli, everyone who extended their goodwill to him even when they had to do so at a cost, there was only one way to do that: by helping Wei Wuxian defeat Wen Ruohan. And Lan Wangji believed, even if very few other people did, that Wei Wuxian was the only one who could.
Forgive me, Lan Wangji apologized silently to his older brother, who was risking his life fighting for Gusu. And to his uncle, who was tirelessly working to restore their homeland. But even if they never understood, or forgave, that was a consequence he was willing to accept.
Lan Wangji reached out and took Jiang Yanli’s hand.
~*~*~*~
“Just keep walking,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “We’re almost there.”
Wei Wuxian ignored the screaming pain in his back and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. “Jiang Cheng,” he gasped. “Think about what you’re doing. Lady Yu will never—”
“Shut it,” Jiang Cheng snapped, adjusting his grip on Wei Wuxian until he was half-supporting and half-dragging him. “Save your breath and keep walking, Wei Wuxian.”
This was most unlike Jiang Cheng; he respected and loved his father, but he worshipped his mother. For Jiang Cheng to go directly against Yu Ziyuan’s orders was unthinkable. Yet, here was Jiang Cheng, doing exactly that. And while Jiang Cheng remained tense, he did not stop, grimly pulling Wei Wuxian forward.
The two of them kept to the shadows as much as possible, but there was still a moment of heart-stopping tension when they had to step into the open to cross the garden and reach the eastern wall. But as they neared the wall, a familiar voice hailed them softly.
“A-Cheng, A-Xian, this way.”
“Shijie,” Wei Wuxian breathed. The next moment he saw a white figure standing next to Jiang Yanli and the shock made him sway on his feet, leaving Jiang Cheng to shoulder almost his full weight. “Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji stepped forward swiftly to support Wei Wuxian from the other side. “Your back?” he asked tersely, brows creased in worry.
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Wei Wuxian reassured him, ignoring the flare of burning pain along the entire expanse of his back. Yu Ziyuan had whipped him with Zidian precisely because it caused far more pain than any regular whip could, but she also knew exactly what she was doing: his back hurt like hell, but he could tell there was no permanent damage done, nothing that would even scar.
Jiang Yanli came to tip a small vial into his mouth, and Wei Wuxian swallowed the acrid-tasting herbal potion without protesting. “This will numb the pain for now. It should hold for another four hours, but if it starts to hurt again, take another dose. Here,” she said, taking out a Qiankun pouch and tucking it inside Wei Wuxian’s robes. “But no more than six doses in twenty-four hours, all right? I packed enough for at least four days, and I put the recipe inside the pouch in case you need more. It’s not that hard to make. And this is the salve,” she told him, showing him a ceramic container. “Put this on your back every evening before you sleep, and every morning when you wake, for the next seven days.”
“Thank you, Shijie.” Wei Wuxian swayed a little when Jiang Cheng let go of his other arm, but Lan Wangji supported his weight with ease. “But – are you sure? Lady Yu, and Qishan, and...”
“You’ve already made up your mind to go, haven’t you?” Jiang Yanli asked gently when he trailed off. “You mean to train under Baoshan Sanren, so you can claim the Burial Mounds.”
“I may not be able to,” Wei Wuxian reminded her.
“You will,” Jiang Yanli replied firmly. “You will become the next Shenwu. Only then will we all be safe from Wen Ruohan’s dark ambitions.”
Her unshakeable faith in him was humbling. Wei Wuxian bowed his head in acquiescence, knowing that he would try to do exactly that, or die trying. “How are we getting out?” Wei Wuxian asked, squinting at the wall. “Lan Zhan’s spiritual power is still sealed, and I’m in no shape to fly.”
“May we be of assistance?” asked a gentle voice, and Wei Wuxian raised his head to find Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan walking towards them.
“I took the liberty of sending a trustworthy messenger to find them and explain your situation,” Jiang Yanli explained with a smile. Wei Wuxian didn’t even have to ask. Who else would risk so much for them out of goodwill alone, but Wen Ning? “You must leave now, A-Xian. I’ve arranged for the patrol to leave this area alone for a little while, but it won’t be long before they return.”
Jiang Cheng, who had been keeping a wary eye on their surroundings, snorted in agreement. “Seriously, get going already. If you get caught this time, being whipped and thrown into the dungeon is going to look like a picnic.”
Wordlessly, Wei Wuxian held out his hand, and Jiang Cheng, after a small sigh, came to clasp it, and allowed Wei Wuxian to pull him into an abrupt embrace. “Thanks, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian murmured, ignoring the sharp pull of pain in his back from the movement.
There was suspicious wetness around the corners of Jiang Cheng’s eyes when he pulled back. “After all the trouble we went through, you had better make this work, Wei Wuxian.”
Jiang Yanli also stepped forward to give Wei Wuxian a warm hug – a farewell. “Go. We will meet again.”
Song Lan took Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji’s arms and carefully mounted his sword Fuxue with him, while Xiao Xingchen likewise mounted Shuanghua with a hand held out for Lan Wangji.
Jiang Yanli bowed to the two of them, and Jiang Cheng followed suit. “Thank you, Master Xiao, Master Song. We entrust A-Xian and Second Young Master Lan to your care.”
Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan inclined their heads in answer. After a last round of thank-you and well-wishes, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan rose in the air, carrying Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and flew away from the Willow Mansion, heading towards the east.
~*~*~*~
“I must warn you: my master may not allow Second Young Master Lan to enter the mountain,” Xiao Xingchen told them after they landed for a break. “She has only ever allowed her own disciples to enter. The heirs of Yiling are the only exception.”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t help shooting Lan Wangji an anxious glance at that. Xiao Xingchen caught it, and his expression turned rueful. “Technically, I’m not allowed either, after having left. If she refuses him entry, I will stay with him.”
Lan Wangji inclined his head in acknowledgement, then turned to Wei Wuxian. “Take another dose now.”
“It’s not that bad,” Wei Wuxian said, even though he could feel the telltale shift in the tone of the pain, from a dull throbbing ache to a sharper burn. Lan Wangji’s expression made it plain that he did not believe the words at all, and Wei Wuxian gave him a wry smile and reached for the Qiankun pouch. “How long will it be until we reach Baoshan Sanren’s mountain?” he asked after draining the potion in one gulp.
Xiao Xingchen, who had been scanning the landscape, turned to him. “...Actually,” he said softly. “We’re here.”
The other three all blinked in surprise.
“Where?” Wei Wuxian asked. They were on a flat stretch of grassland next to a small clear stream. There were trees everywhere, but nothing that even remotely resembled a mountain.
Xiao Xingchen exhaled, then made a series of complicated hand seals. A hint of spiritual power sparked, a touch of silver light arcing in the air.
Nothing happened at first. Then, Wei Wuxian inhaled sharply. There was a rectangular patch of space before them that suddenly showed completely different scenery, as though someone had cut out a section of a painting and laid it on top of another painting.
A concealment barrier. Baoshan Sanren’s mountain was kept hidden behind a powerful barrier, so that people did not even notice it even as they passed right by it.
Xiao Xingchen motioned for them to enter. After the four of them passed, the passage closed up behind them as though the cutout section had simply been glued back into place. The rest of their trek up the mountain was silent. Even Wei Wuxian remained quiet, looking around in wonder.
There was something oddly untouched about this place, as though they were the first people to ever set foot here. The path they took didn’t look like a path at all, either. No grass or leaves broken, and no stone worn out by feet stepping on them. Mist curled through every part of the mountain, yet the air felt oddly clear, sunlight streaming unfiltered. The fresh fragrances of pine and cedar mingled in the air with the sweet scent of flowers. Each blade of grass, every leaf on the trees seemed to glow with vitality. It was early summer here too, but there was a timeless quality to it, like the essence of the season captured in a perfect distillation of summer, so vivid that it felt as though the world outside was nothing more than a dream, and entering this place felt like waking up, like this place was the true reality.
Xiao Xingchen led them to a beautiful open-air pavilion perched on an overlook with an excellent view of the valley underneath. Inside the pavilion, a woman dressed in pure white turned as they approached.
“Xingchen,” she acknowledged, a small smile beginning to form on her mouth.
“Master,” Xiao Xingchen greeted with a deep bow. “This disciple greets Baoshan Sanren.”
“I see you have succeeded,” Baoshan Sanren noted, looking directly at Wei Wuxian. “Welcome, heir of Yiling. And...” Her eyes passed over Song Lan, then lingered on Lan Wangji, who was bowing gracefully to her. “It has been a very long time since this mountain has hosted outside visitors,” she said mildly. “Be welcome, nonetheless. Xingchen, make sure that our guests are comfortable. Child, you will stay,” she added when Wei Wuxian made to follow the others. “We have much to talk about.”
The two of them waited until Xiao Xingchen disappeared with Song Lan and Lan Wangji. Then, Baoshan Sanren gestured for Wei Wuxian to come closer.
“Well met, son of Cangse Sanren,” she said, and there was warmth in her voice that made a tight knot loosen inside Wei Wuxian.
“Wei Wuxian greets Baoshan Sanren,” Wei Wuxian returned respectfully with a deep bow. “I am very glad to be here. I understand that I am quite behind schedule.”
A faint smile of amusement passed Baoshan Sanren’s face. “How much has your mother told you about your duties as the Yiling heir?” she asked more seriously.
“Enough to understand that I have a sworn duty to the Burial Mounds and Yiling,” Wei Wuxian answered honestly, “but not any of the specifics. She thought she would have time to teach me after I returned from my training with you.” There was a lump in his throat as he spoke about his mother. Back then, he hadn’t ever imagined losing her, much less losing her so soon. His mother and father had been the world to him.
Baoshan Sanren nodded gravely. “That is traditional. All Yiling heirs start training at the age of fifteen, and the secrets are passed down only after they turn twenty. But from what your mother told me while she trained here, every Shenwu is different. In the end, no one can teach you how to be a Shenwu. That, you must learn directly from the Burial Mounds. What I am charged with is to ensure that you survive entering the Burial Mounds. If you go there unprepared, you won’t live through the first hour, let alone successfully claim it.”
“Will I be ready in time? Wen Ruohan is the most powerful cultivator alive right now. He may succeed in claiming the Burial Mounds before I can even try.” That had been the anxious thought hammering away in the back of his head since leaving Meishan. Jiang Yanli had sent him here in the hope that he would become the next Shenwu and stop Wen Ruohan. Who was no doubt livid about losing Lan Wangji and having Wei Wuxian challenge him openly. Wen Ruohan hadn’t needed much of an excuse to invade Gusu; how much less with Meishan and Yunmeng?
Baoshan Sanren let out a soft sigh. “He has not managed so far, but you are right to worry. And normally, an heir needs at least five years to be ready.” Wei Wuxian bit his lip. They most certainly did not have five years. “However, in your case, we may be able to greatly accelerate the process. It is fortuitous that you brought a suitable companion. Perhaps that too is the heaven’s will.”
Wei Wuxian stared at her, puzzled. Baoshan Sanren’s mouth quirked.
“What is his name? Your cultivation partner.”
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian blurted out. “Wait, he’s not my – I mean, I would like us to be, but we’re not, I’m not. Um.”
“Has the Lan clan changed so much in the last few centuries?” Baoshan Sanren countered. “Do the descendants of Lan An and Lan Yi truly form and sever such bonds so lightly?”
Wei Wuxian felt his face burn in mortified horror as the realization dawned on him that she knew about the two of them. Which meant she also knew they had done it completely out of order: they should have married first before consummating their relationship. But she did not look censuring, only dryly amused.
“If that child of Lan accepted you, that is exactly what it means. And your qi is highly compatible with his. You could not have picked a better cultivation partner. This will aid both of you enormously.”
That was when it hit him: Baoshan Sanren expected him to dual cultivate with Lan Wangji regularly to help prepare for the Burial Mounds. Blood rushed to his face so quickly, he was nearly dizzy. “But.” He couldn’t form any thoughts coherent enough to voice. It was one thing to act on mutual feelings and make love to affirm their bond. It was quite another to have dual cultivation sessions on a regular basis. In fact, wasn’t that exactly the fate he had hoped to deliver Lan Wangji from?
His apprehension must have been transparent on his face. Baoshan Sanren gave him a gentle smile. “I will discuss the matter with both of you first. You do not need to worry. But I will add one more thing: a Lan child does not open his heart just to anyone. It is a rare gift, one I hope you cherish.”
“I do,” Wei Wuxian replied immediately. That didn’t require any thought.
Baoshan Sanren nodded. “You may go. I will speak to both of you soon. But for now, please ask your companion to come and see me.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Wei Wuxian bowed to Baoshan Sanren, and withdrew.
~*~*~*~
The room they had been given was situated next to a small pond. A bamboo grove rustled behind the building, and the flowering trees in full bloom sent white petals drifting in the air like snowflakes.
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian turned at once. He didn’t want to be nosy but couldn’t help wondering why Baoshan Sanren asked to see Lan Wangji alone. “Lan Zhan. How did it go?”
Lan Wangji lifted his chin, and Wei Wuxian’s breath escaped in a surprised whoosh, to see his throat free of the golden choker at last.
“She could have just said,” Wei Wuxian murmured, stepping closer to peer at Lan Wangji’s bare neck. No mark lingered from the unfortunate piece of jewelry that had restricted Lan Wangji’s spiritual power for months. Satisfied, Wei Wuxian leaned back to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes.
“She wished to talk to me privately,” Lan Wangji admitted, and the way his ears turned faintly pink told Wei Wuxian what about.
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian said, lost for words. The thing was, now that they were at least temporarily safe, he had hoped to continue working down his long list of things to try with Lan Wangji. But. Dual cultivation. That was a whole another thing.
“How is your back?” Lan Wangji asked, voice low.
“Fine,” Wei Wuxian said without thinking, then blinked to realize it really was. A senior disciple of Baoshan Sanren had visited while Lan Wangji was away, and after a session of healing and reapplication of Jiang Yanli’s salve, there was only faint throbbing left behind, like pain from a wound received several days ago.
“I am sorry.”
The words took him by surprise, and Wei Wuxian blinked at Lan Wangji owlishly. “For what?”
Lan Wangji looked down, breaking eye contact. “I knew Lady Yu would be angry,” he said quietly, “but I did not expect that.”
“What, this?” Wei Wuxian felt his heart melt a little. “This is nothing. I know what Zidian can do better than you. Trust me, if Lady Yu really went all out, I wouldn’t even be able to stand right now.”
He was only too glad that Yu Ziyuan’s fury had remained focused on him and not on Lan Wangji. In theory, Lan Wangji was a guest from Wen Ruohan and that ought to have shielded him from the worst of it, but one never knew with Yu Ziyuan when her ire was properly roused. Besides, he was used to directing the brunt of her temper onto himself whenever he and Jiang Cheng got into trouble, which was often.
Lan Wangji still looked unhappy, but he nodded in acceptance. “Baoshan Sanren told me that...” He trailed off, ears flushing a darker pink. “Dual cultivation would benefit both of us,” Lan Wangji continued, his ears still blooming red. “She also said Wen Ruohan has many spies and will learn where you are soon, if he hasn’t already. Which means he will anticipate where you will be headed next. When we go to the Burial Mounds, we must be ready.”
“We?” Wei Wuxian echoed.
“We,” Lan Wangji confirmed. “I will go with you.”
“No, that’s not...” Wei Wuxian inhaled. “Lan Zhan, the Burial Mounds is my burden. Besides, only an heir of Yiling can enter the Burial Mounds.”
“Wen Ruohan will be waiting for you there,” Lan Wangji pointed out, unperturbed. “To enter the Burial Mounds, you must first get past Wen Ruohan. I will go with you.”
“That’s not why I—” Wei Wuxian took a calming breath. This wasn’t any better than Lan Wangji throwing his life away on an assassination attempt. Arguably it was worse, because Lan Wangji would be doing it for him. “Lan Zhan, please. Just stay here until your brother makes his move. You can join him then.”
Lan Wangji shook his head. “There are others who will stand with my brother when he goes to war. I will go with you.”
“Lan Zhan...” Wei Wuxian said helplessly. Why hadn’t he foreseen this possibility? Lan Wangji was probably the only person he met who was as stubborn as he was.
“Before, you disagreed with my plan,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian frowned at the sudden turn in the conversation. “You were angry that I would choose to act alone.”
“No, I was angry that you would sacrifice yourself so carelessly, like you were nothing but a disposable tool,” Wei Wuxian snapped, the all-too-familiar anger rearing its ugly head in his mind. It didn’t make it better that Lan Wangji had chosen that path out of love, not duty. And now, Lan Wangji was proposing something horrifyingly similar.
Lan Wangji’s brows furrowed at that. “If you were unwilling to let me go alone, why do you expect I would be any different?”
“Because I cannot risk you like that!” Wei Wuxian said in a barely controlled voice. Going to the Burial Mounds was his duty to the world, as was facing Wen Ruohan. But he couldn’t make Lan Wangji the price of his choice. He couldn’t.
“The risk is mine to take.” Lan Wangji’s voice was firm, brooking no argument. “Or would you ask me to watch you sacrifice yourself as though you were nothing but a disposable tool?”
The sharp words stabbed through him like a well-honed blade. Wei Wuxian could find nothing to say to that, because he knew down to his bones that Lan Wangji was absolutely right: it was not for him to say what risk Lan Wangji should or should not take.
“I choose to stand by your side,” Lan Wangji said in a gentler voice that nevertheless did not lose an ounce of his determination. “This is my choice. You may push me away if that is your choice, but it will not alter mine.”
Wei Wuxian would have argued more, but he knew when a battle was lost. “Like I could ever win against you,” he finally said in a choked voice. “Thank you, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry for acting like an idiot.”
Lan Wangji’s lips relaxed into a subtle curve at that. “There is no need for gratitude or apology between us.”
Wei Wuxian bit his lip. Despite his fear for Lan Wangji’s safety, an even fiercer surge of elation was beginning to suffuse every inch of his being. He loves me, it sang through his heart. He loves me, as I love him.
He is mine, as I am his.
But if they were going to dual cultivate, he wanted to do this in proper order. Wei Wuxian cleared his throat self-consciously. “Lan Zhan, when this is all over,” he started. If we both survive, he thought, but did not say it aloud. “Will you marry me?”
Lan Wangji’s lips parted without a sound, and for a split second his face became nakedly soft. The smile that spread on his face seemed to light him from within, so radiant that it was hard to look at him, yet even harder to look away.
“Yes,” Lan Wangji replied in a quiet but steady voice, the simple word ringing far deeper and truer than any vow.
Wei Wuxian, lost hopelessly in Lan Wangji’s smile, had to remind himself it was not proper to perform the three prostrations right here, right now. If they were to marry, they should do so properly, with their families to witness the rite and bless their union.
“I am yours, and you are mine,” Wei Wuxian vowed anyway, because he knew there would never be anyone else for him all his life. “From this day, to my last day.”
“I am yours, and you are mine,” Lan Wangji vowed, shimmering dark eyes never leaving Wei Wuxian’s. “From this day, to my last day.”
With their hands joined, with their hearts beating as one, the kiss that followed felt holier than any rite on earth, more sacred than any vow before heaven.