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When Lan Huan turned six, he, according to Sect's tradition, got his instrument. His uncle was expecting the boy to choose qin, but Lan Huan settled on xiao, which kind of disturbed the elders: guqin was considered more noble and appropriate, as it was played by almost all members of the Gusu Lan Sect.
"Don't get upset, A-Huan," said Madam Lan, when the elder son told her about what happened. "It's not the instrument that matters, it's your mastery. How did you name her?"
"Liebing," Lan Huan climbed upon his mother's lap and handed the xiao to her, "Cracking the ice."
"Going to crack the ice in men's hearts, huh?" mother patted the elder son on the head, looking at the snow-white flute. "That's a nice one."
"I'll choose a xiao too!" three-year-old Lan Zhan got into the conversation and onto the bed. "I want to be like gege!"
Mother laughed and hugged both her sons, "You need to find your own self, not other's traits in your personality. Both of you are beautiful in your ways."
Three years later Lan Zhan got his instrument too. He actually was going to choose xiao, but at the last moment his hand reached in another direction, and that's how he became an owner of a beautiful qin with an elegant pattern of water stream1.
"What is the name that you will give to your instrument?" asked Lan Qiren. "Choose thoughtfully and wisely, remember that guqin has a soul that must be treated with respect."
Lan Zhan held the guqin to him and made a clumsy bow, "Uncle, is it permitted to wait a little? Only a couple of days. I'm afraid I may make a bad choice in a hurry."
"I permit," Lan Qiren graciously allowed.
The next day was the day of visiting Madam Lan's little house.
"You still chose a guqin!' noticed Madam Lan. "What's the name of him?"
Lan Zhan sat on the floor, like an adult placed the instrument on his knees and raised his head:
"He doesn't have one yet. I asked for permission to delay this. Was afraid to choose a bad name in a rush."
"Maybe 'Zhishui'? Like in 'Ruling the stream'. Matches the appearance," suggested Lan Huan, sitting on a window. Lan Zhan only shook his head.
Madam Lan took a couple of minutes to think this out and said:
"How about 'Wangji'? What can be better than 'being at peace with the world'?"
Lan Zhan nodded:
"Thank you, mother."
Madam Lan smiled a bit pensively:
"A-Huan, you'll turn nine soon. You're going to get used to your new name."
"Did the elders choose it yet?" said Lan Huan curiously, elegantly getting off the window sill.
"If your father and uncle agree, you will be called Xichen," Madam Lan gave a wink. "But pretend I didn't say anything. "
"Mother", Lan Zhan placed the guqin carefully on the little table and sat near his mother's legs, "Will you give me a courtesy name too?"
"Of course, my darling," Madam Lan said, stroking her younger son's hair, "now let me comb you. It's not so easy to tie a forehead ribbon neatly and firmly, is it? Turn your back. A-Huan, give me a ridge, please. How have you been studying lately?"
Not long after the boys' visit Lan Qiren called on his sister-in-law. Standing near the window, where Lan Huan had been recently swinging his legs, he said dryly:
"Lan Huan will be nine years old soon. It would be impolite to give him a courtesy name without asking his mother. Have you thought about it?'
"I have," said Madam Lan quietly but firmly. "If Qingheng-Jun and you, Teacher Lan, have no objections, let his zi be 'Xichen'. I think this is the right name for a future Sect Leader."
Lan Qiren turned around:
"I will convey your wish to Qingheng-Jun."
Two weeks after this conversation, Madam Lan was gone.
Three years later Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen were playing a duet in one of the gazebos, despite the snow, when suddenly the younger boy put his hand on the strings, muffling their trembling, and said: "Brother, what courtesy name do you think I will get?"
Lan Zhan, who disliked vacuous talks from a cradle, stopped participating in them altogether after his mother's death, and now spoke only because the question had been really bothering him: he knew perfectly that his brother's style name had been chosen by their mother, and he was acutely, though silently, suffering that he hadn't been so fortunate.
Lan Huan took the flute off his lips and sighed: "I don't know, I haven't heard the elders talking about it. Maybe mother thought it out."
Lan Zhan twitched his mouth: "Probably uncle will find something in the old books."
Lam Xichen twirled the xiao in the exact same way he wasn't supposed to:
"If you feel that a name is sharply discordant with your essence, you can tell about it. This is an extremely rare phenomenon, so the elders will take your words into account, in case there's a tiny mistake in the calculations."
Lan Zhan looked out the gazebo's window at the snow, falling slowly, and said:
"That is not the issue."
"I know, A-Zhan," Lan Xichen reached and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.
"I want 'Wanji' as the courtesy name," said Lan Zhan right before the ceremony. Both Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren froze in surprise. The uncle came round first:
"Like your guqin? What nonsense, be called as an instrument. Although your style name is chosen already."
"I want only this name," said Lan Zhan firmly, looking down at the floor. Lan Xichen took a haste bow and said:
"Uncle, no one from the outside would dare accuse A-Zhan of arrogance on the grounds that he named his instrument after himself, and what his guqin is called now only a few Sect people know and not a single person beyond Cloud Recesses."
Lan Qiren turned to him. On the one hand, he was taken aback by the audacity of usually imperturbable Lan Xichen in supporting his brother's idle wish, on the other hand, mused.
"That's if he makes three times more efforts than I see now."
Lan Zhan bent in a deep bow:
"This disciple won't disappoint the teacher. Please, uncle."
Lan Xichen slightly raised his eyebrows and looked at his uncle pleadingly. He seemed to be calculating something in his mind:
"I think you also asked for a delay to come up with a name for your guqin..."
Lan Zhan's reverently clasped hands trembled, confirming Lan Qiren's guess.
"The ceremony is in an hour. You're dismissed."
Later this evening Lan Xichen and Lan Wanji sat in the gazebo again, and this time the qin's deep melody was flowing smoothly and continuously. The snowfall had almost stopped.
"Turns out that mother also gave you a courtesy name, as she promised. She must be very happy," Lan Xichen said to the snow-covered cherry tree branches, and took up the flute again, giving no attention to Lan Wangji's wet eyes.