Work Text:
When another urgent letter reaches Jiang Cheng just as he’s about to finish up sect correspondence for the day, he can only sigh heavily, burying his emotions deep, deep, deeper so he doesn’t let them out on the poor disciple delivering the news. His hands are steady where they grip the paper, but Zidian sparks on his finger, tumultuous and unrestrained like the storm inside his mind.
It’s a letter sent by the head of a village just barely within Yunmeng jurisdiction, reporting sudden disappearances of villagers- and similarly sudden reappearances.
Disappearances are common enough in this profession, always some monster or a faulty array at the center of it. The fact that there haven't been any casualties so far means this case isn’t serious enough to warrant immediate action from the Sect.
But it isn’t the situation itself that has his heart rabbiting in his chest, teeth clenched tight as he reads over the words. It’s the name of the village that gives him pause.
Jiang Cheng had been in the area for a night hunt only once before. His first night hunt. Even Father had come along on it, because his mother had insisted, “A father needs to accompany his son on his first hunt, don’t humiliate him-”
Not like Jiang Cheng hadn’t noticed. Not like he hadn’t known that his father only came because he was also there.
Still, it didn’t matter to Jiang Cheng then. Not when they’d trained for that moment for so long, and his blood was rushing in his ears as he finally got to put all his training into practice. Throughout the experience, the complete assurance that someone was watching his back never left him. His face had pulled into a smile unbidden, spurred on by the echoing, exhilarated laughter of-
Jiang Cheng throws the letter on his table, his left hand coming up to twist the still-sparking Zidian on his finger.
He doesn’t formulate a response. He will head out to the village first thing in the morning, he decides. He can deal with this on his own. After all, it’s been many years since he’s relied on anyone to watch his back.
———
The last time Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng was… a while ago. He’s not quite sure how long, he hasn’t exactly been keeping track on the road with Lan Wangji. He counts life in memories and feelings instead of hours and days: The amused smile of an inn owner when Lan Wangji and him squabble over who should pay, the relieved tears of a small girl they rescue in the forests of Gusu, the feeling of Lan Wangji’s hand in his own as he tugs him along a new path.
Life has given him a second chance at happiness, at freedom, and he’s grasped it tightly with both hands, never looking back.
But still, Wei Wuxian, once the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, recognizes the landscape of what used to be his home, and thinking of home eventually always leads to thinking of Jiang Cheng. It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is- They’d passed through (or rather, cut a conscious berth) around Jiangling just a few days ago, but he had been so focused on not paying that city any mind, that he’d forgotten how close it was to Yunmeng.
But then the air gets more humid, the rivers grow deeper, and broader, start to evolve into lakes. Wei Wuxian’s breath catches in his throat when he thinks he recognizes the area Jiang Fengmian sent them on their first night hunt- They’d been so young and clumsy then, tripping over their own feet in their eagerness to slay more yao than the other. A few senior disciples had come with them, and Jiang Fengmian of course, the more experienced fighters controlling the situation so it wouldn’t become overwhelming. But Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng never once faltered.
Even with unsure steps and small hands, whenever he grew nervous, he would catch a glimpse of Jiang Cheng next to him, hear his aborted curse, stumble into his back as he evaded an attack. Even when he doubted himself, he knew there was someone there who had his back.
A gentle squeeze around his hand pulls him back to reality, Lan Wangji’s soft gaze on him.
Wei Wuxian blinks rapidly, pulling his eyes from where they’d been staring into nothingness. Without really thinking about it, he forces his face into a smile, opens his mouth to make a joke or deflect or somehow hide himself otherwise-
Lan Wangji squeezes his hand again and Wei Wuxian deflates, sighing in defeat, but the wry smile on his face is at least real.
“Let’s head a bit more South, yes? I don’t think Yunmeng would particularly welcome me,” he mumbles, leaning heavily into his husband’s side.
Lan Wangji nods, turning his head to survey the area around them. “Mn. Towards Chongyang.”
“Yes! Let’s go to Chongyang,” he hurries to agree, already trudging on. “I remember there was a little village somewhere around here. We rested there after our first night hunt.”
Lan Wangji hums consideringly, his voice tilting in an unspoken question that Wei Wuxian understands nonetheless. He smiles, swinging their entwined hands between them as they move along the path and he graces his husband with the (slightly embellished) story of his first night hunt.
Eventually, they do reach a village, though Wei Wuxian isn’t entirely certain it’s the same one from back then. It has been- Well. Many years have passed since then.
The villagers out on the street eye them with curiosity and wariness. It’s a standard response as far as Wei Wuxian is concerned. Not everyone is delighted to welcome strangers, and not every passing cultivator seeks to help as they do.
He smiles at two little boys halting their game as they catch sight of him, and listens with one ear as a hushed discussion breaks out behind them. It goes back and forth for a little, then someone curses and clears their throat.
“You… hold on there!”
Wei Wuxian stops and throws Lan Wangji a bemused look. There’s a responding glint in his husband’s eyes, though his face doesn’t move an inch. Faking confusion, Wei Wuxian turns around and considers the villager before him.
It’s a small and stocky man, with weathered and tan skin from years of manual labor out in the open. The first streaks of grey are beginning to scatter his hairline, though a straw hat hides them well.
He scratches his neck and then throws a disgruntled look at someone behind him. Finally, he sighs and asks: “Are you the cultivators sent by the Jiang Sect?”
The atmosphere in the street shifts at his question. Wei Wuxian can see the old woman across the path leaning forward, with unfinished needlework in her hands. Two men carrying baskets have shifted closer to them, sorting their goods as they listen in.
Again, the two cultivators exchange a wordless look. Lan Wangji blinks quicker- He’s just as interested as Wei Wuxian is. Intrigued, he leans forward, much more attentive now than a second before.
“No,” he admits honestly, grinning brightly at the man. “But we are more than capable of helping if you require assistance.”
The denial seals whatever bad impression the people had of them. A young woman nearby clicks her tongue and turns away with a sigh, while the man in front of them furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head immediately.
“Don’t worry. We’ll just wait for news from the Sect…”
Wei Wuxian isn’t sure what comes over him. Perhaps it's leftovers of the nostalgia he’s been feeling ever since they entered this territory, but before he can really think about it, he blurts out: “I used to be a disciple of the Jiang Sect!”
Again, the man halts, the expression in his eyes warming as his perception of them shifts.
“Is that so.”
“Yes, see- I’ve still got my clarity bell!” he fumbles for his qiankun pouch, trying to procure the object he’s been hiding for so long now. It’s his original bell, the one Jiang Fengmian had given him and Jiang Cheng when they began training, and the one Lan Wangji had found in Yiling and kept all the years he was gone.
The man whistles appreciatively at the sight of it, turning it this way and that to take in the nine-petaled lotus.
“I told you they are the real deal!” A new voice chimes in as a woman comes up behind the man, sidling up to him to look at the bell with appreciation. She turns her eyes on Wei Wuxian, tilting her head as she seizes him up.
“I grew up in Yunmeng, I know a Jiang cultivator when I see one!” she huffs, throwing the other villagers a pointed look before she turns back to them with a genuine smile. “We Yunmeng folk just carry ourselves differently, don’t we? And Jiang cultivators are the best of the best!”
Wei Wuxian laughs, taking the bell back and storing it carefully. “Don’t say it too loudly, ma’am, or this one will get upset,” he mock-whispers, bumping his hip against Lan Wangji, standing next to him in his immediately recognizable Lan robes and headband.
The woman waves her hand dismissively. “Sorry to your fella, but there’s really no competition. Everyone knows how much Jiang-zongzhu cares for the people, always responding personally and even coming for minor problems. I bet he’s already on his way to help this time, too! Tell me which other Sect Leader does that.”
Both of them stiffen at the mention of Jiang Cheng, though Wei Wuxian is much more obvious about it. He also manages to recover quicker, nodding indulgently at her words and skillfully leading the topic away again.
“What’s the problem here, then? Monsters?”
“Something like that,” the man says darkly, the cheerful atmosphere on the street shattering. The woman sighs, patting her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes.
“Come, let’s go home first. It’s no good to discuss things like this out in the open.”
Song Ruike, as she happily tells them, is as chatty and welcoming as most people from Yunmeng are. She narrates their journey to the house, pointing out people and buildings as they pass them.
“This grumpy one here,” she explains, fondly exasperated as she gestures at the stern villager still following them, “is my husband, Zhao Muyu. We’ve had some bad experiences with stray cultivators around here, so excuse the rude welcome. You’re free to stay with us as long as you need.”
Wei Wuxian sighs in relief, profusely expressing their thankfulness as Lan Wangji bows. He doesn’t mind sleeping under the stars, but after days on the road, he could really use a soft bed right about now. It is different now, with his husband at his side, but sometimes- Sometimes, it does remind him a bit too much of the first memories he ever made.
Song Ruike waves off their gratitude, offering them tea and food as she does, and even Zhao Muyu mumbles something about hospitality and manners as he shows them to the sitting room.
“So,” Wei Wuxian begins, trying to lead them back to their original topic. “How can we help you out?”
Zhao Muyu leans into the back of his seat, crossing his arms as he sighs heavily: “There’s been a couple of disappearances lately.”
“It sounds worse than it is!” Song Ruike reassures them quickly, her eyes wide as she waves her hands through the air. “Nobody has died-”
“- yet-”
“- they just… seem to be gone from earth for a couple of days. So far, everyone has returned, but nobody remembers where they were or what they were doing during that period."
Wei Wuxian frowns consideringly, throwing a look at Lan Wangji as his brain runs through years of experience, classes in Gusu, and scrolls he’d read in his childhood.
“Memory-eating?” he asks, naming the first thing that comes to mind and watches as his husband contemplates it with a slow tilt of his head.
“Mn. Don’t have several victims.”
“Maybe a herd of them,” Wei Wuxian suggests, Lan Wangji nodding in assent.
Excitedly, Song Ruike slaps her husband’s shoulder, squealing: “I knew they could help! And you wanted to just let them pass through!”
“Well, fear not!” Wei Wuxian promises, puffing his chest out confidently. “We can have this sorted in no time. We’ll just have a quick look around and solve the mystery.”
Song Ruike and Zhao Muyu share a hesitant look.
“You want to head out right away?” the man finally says, eyebrows drawn together. “No doubt you’ve been on the road all the day, and it’s about to get dark.”
Both of the cultivators throw a doubtful look out the window, where the sun is still beating down brightly and illuminating the idyllic country scenery.
“Don’t get fooled, it gets dark quick. Gods know what’s waiting for you. Don’t want it on my neck that I sent you out to be eaten by a memory-eater,” Zhao Muyu grumbled, his concern evident beneath all his posturing.
“Besides,” his wife weighs in, “most of the victims probably already returned home for the day, too. You won’t be able to ask them for testimonies like this.”
That argument convinces them far more easily. As Wei Wuxian concedes, once again thanking them sincerely for their hospitality, he can almost hear Jiang Fengmian’s voice in his ear, the way he always heard it during classes in his childhood.
“As a cultivator, you should always try to avoid fighting against an unknown foe. Be as thorough in your investigation as possible.”
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, fighting against the insistent pull of his memories. He ignores Lan Wangji's inquisitive stare and instead turns a blinding smile on their hosts.
“How can we help with dinner?”
———
The next morning, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian bow to the couple as the two set off to work, promising to return as soon as they have found the cause behind the disappearances.
Instead of walking towards the nature surrounding them, they turn towards the village for possible information from the victims.
As Song Ruike said, there’s not much evidence to go off of. None of the victims remember exactly what time it was when they disappeared, or how they’d come back. The last thing they could recall was entering the local woods, and then being ripped out of a trance by someone as they stumbled back into the town.
“It’s like she wasn’t even there mentally,” a young woman tells them worriedly as her sister leaves to bring them the clothes she wore that day. “She came here on her own two feet, but her eyes were just… dazed. Only when I held her hand did she truly come back.”
The clothes show no sign of talismans, nor traces of any sort of energy. The only lead they have is the nearby woods, which is much less than either of them is comfortable with.
Wei Wuxian sighs, looking towards the dark treeline with annoyance rather than trepidation.
“Do you ever wonder,” he asks off-handedly as they walk towards the forest, weapons secured on their backs, “why we never investigate on a flower field? Or in a pretty meadow?”
Lan Wangji huffs a laugh. “Did Wei Ying not like Caiyi Town?
Wei Wuxian thinks about the question seriously for a few seconds, gravitating closer to his husband with every step.
“Beautiful, but it could’ve done without the Waterborne Abyss,” he grins, winking at his husband who shakes his head fondly.
“Liar,” Lan Wangji says, a smile audible in his voice, “You enjoyed fighting it.”
Wei Wuxian lets his path cross Lan Wangji’s, bumping into his side and entwining their hands as he does. “And how does Lan Zhan know?”
“Was watching you.”
A year ago, this statement would’ve silenced him, a blush erupting high on his cheeks as he fought for his composure. Now, he can freely throw his head back and laugh, endeared by how blunt his husband has become.
“Me too! You were so dashing back then, rescuing me like a knight on shining Bichen- Though you could’ve left that Su She behind.”
Lan Wangji hums in agreement, the squeeze of his hand showing just how much he wished he’d really done that. Then, they fall back into companionable silence, their eyes watchful as they consider the scenery around them.
Once they reach the forest, they get to do actual work. The routine of it is so standard that it strongly reminds Wei Wuxian of his first night hunt. Again, they set out talismans to test the energies, but nothing malicious or unsettled turns up. He plays Chenqing for a bit, to no avail.
It’s almost frustrating, Wei Wuxian thinks, huffing as another investigation method leads to nothing. Between the two of them, they’ve had more than enough experience hunting and fighting spirits and monsters of all kinds, but usually, they’re just waiting for an opportunity to attack.
This silence and nothingness, in comparison, is almost unsettling.
The two of them are so focused on the task at hand, determined to find any clue or hint possible, that they don’t even notice another presence joining them, which is rather ironic considering their situation.
“What in the world are you two doing here?!”
———
Jiang Cheng is having a bad day.
It is bad enough that the head of the village recognized him from that horrendous first night hunt he’s been unable to stop thinking about the entire way there. The man greeted him with bright eyes and an indulging smile, talking to him like he was still that pre-teen who was too immature and prideful to hide the excitement brimming in his growing body.
“My, how long it’s been!” he’d said, ignoring Jiang Cheng’s weak attempts to lead the topic back to the case. “You’ve grown, just as handsome as your father. Say, where’s your friend from back then? The cheerful one with the ribbon?”
Jiang Cheng had clenched his teeth and lied straight through them, something his mother would’ve killed him for. But he really could not care to explain the long and complicated story of Wei Wuxian and where he was, and he didn’t think the elder would’ve liked the truth all that much anyway.
When the old man finally finished reminiscing and got into the details of the disappearances (of which there are apparently none, except “Go to the forest”), he suddenly revealed that two other cultivators had arrived in town yesterday evening and gone to take care of it.
“Ah yes, I believe they stayed with that young couple on the outskirts… If you go to the fields, I’m sure they can tell you everything.”
Jiang Cheng, already at least one shí behind his timetable, did not stop by the fields to ask for the cultivators’ names. He figured if they were useless (the likelihood of which was high) he’d just send them back to the village rather than deal with whatever uncoordinated technique they had.
Looking back to that decision now, he’s plagued by the patronizing voice of his father, chiding in his ears: “Never enter a fight without knowing the abilities of your companions.”
Good for Jiang Cheng, then, that he knows his companions about a hundred times more intimately than he wishes he did.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Wangji greets while Wei Wuxian stands wide-eyed and open-mouthed beside him.
For a second, Jiang Cheng considers trying his hand at civility. Then, he decides against it.
“The mighty Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch on Yunmeng territory. To what do we owe the honor?” he spits, the words falling like acid from his tongue before he even thinks about them.
Even he can tell that Lan Wangji tenses at his remark, hand twitching as if to grip his sword. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, seems to deflate, sighing deeply as he rubs a hand across his forehead.
“We heard of the disappearances and wanted to help,” he explains, trying to dissolve the tension between them. A futile attempt.
“I am sure.” Jiang Cheng bites back, and Lan Wangji twitches.
“Since Jiang-zongzhu is here, he can figure it out. No need to help,” he retorts, voice so serene it borders on threatening, and Wei Wuxian winces as he sees Jiang Cheng draw up for a no doubt cutting response.
“Stop, Lan Zhan, we won’t get anywhere like this,” he whispers to his husband before he turns to Jiang Cheng. For a second, he can do nothing but look at him, taking him in and scanning for any changes in his appearance.
He looks well- healthy, and strong, just like he should. He looks better, Wei Wuxian decides, than he did after Guanyin Temple. No tears on his face, that familiar face he’s known for decades, no matter how much the years in between have changed him. No haunted look in his eyes, either, no desperation, no hurt.
He does still have that mighty frown, but Wei Wuxian assumes that has simply become a staple.
Jiang Cheng, caught in his wordless stare, falters and can only stare back silently.
“Jiang-zongzhu…” he halts and pretends he doesn’t see Jiang Cheng flinch. “How about we investigate this together? It’s not safe to work on your own for cases like this.”
He wonders if Jiang Cheng, too, thinks of Jiang Fengmian and the rules he’d engrained in them before their first night hunt. He wonders if he hears the echo of his lecture, emphasizing the importance of backup and trust in one’s partner.
Jiang Cheng clenches his teeth, crosses his arms, and looks away from the two of them. He doesn’t outright agree, but his response comes close enough.
“Alright then. Tell me what you have.”
Wei Wuxian exhales and throws a glance at Lan Wangji, quietly asking if he’s fine with this as well. His husband presses his lips together but nods slightly.
“Alright,” Wei Wuxian echoes, relief making his voice sound light. “Well, truth be told, we don’t have a lot. We spoke to the victims, but they have no recollection of anything except the woods. And so far, there’s nothing we’ve found around that indicates paranormal activity.”
Jiang Cheng throws them a judgemental look that is so obviously Madam Yu, Wei Wuxian shudders just to think of it. “And you’ve checked everything?”
Lan Wangji twitches again, and he hastens to assure: “Yes, everything that’s standard procedure and then some.”
He twirls Chenqing out of nervous habit more than anything, but it catches Jiang Cheng’s eye and he narrows them in a squint before he turns his back to them and starts walking.
“Well, clearly you’ve missed something. Better we check again.”
Lan Wangji gives the most incredulous look his face can possibly form, and then looks at his husband accusingly, blaming him for getting him into this situation instead of leaving when they had the choice.
Wei Wuxian grins sheepishly and kisses him on the cheek, before following Jiang Cheng.
And so, they check the forest again.
Their awkward, forced conversation is once again threatening to erupt in a fight (meaning Jiang Cheng is throwing passive-aggressive comments as Lan Wangji starts twitching more violently and Wei Wuxian tries valiantly to change the topic) when Wei Wuxian distantly registers the sound of two harmonious chimes.
He pauses, trying to see if he can hear it again, but instead what follows is a resounding thud!
Both he and Jiang Cheng, who’d been walking slightly ahead, whirl around and see a befuddled Lan Wangji standing motionless just a few steps behind them.
He slowly, hesitantly, lifts a foot and takes a step forward- But he is stopped in his tracks for no apparent reason, the source of the sound from before suddenly obvious.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks hesitantly, trying to close the distance between them to investigate what’s going on, but he is similarly unable to move as he seemingly hits a wall, drawing a line right between him and Lan Wangji. Except this time, a chime sounds, echoing in the space around them.
Wide-eyed, he gazes down his body and finds the clarity bell he’d fixed to his robes the day prior and hadn’t taken off yet.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji manages to find the delicate balance between reassuring and panicked, his voice urging Wei Wuxian to look back up at him. He lifts a hand to touch him, but again-
There is that cursed wall, not solid enough to block sound or be visible, but solid enough for Lan Wangji to rest his hand against it, stopping just short of Wei Wuxian’s chest. Hesitantly, he presses his hand against it and stares at the visible gap of air keeping their palms apart.
“Well,” Jiang Cheng remarks, though his voice sounds far less composed than he would like it to, “that’s something at least.”
———
They quickly figure out that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are on the same side of the wall, unable to reach Lan Wangji physically. The reason why is not hard to find: When Jiang Cheng pounds a hand at the wall, once again, the chime of a bell resonates around them.
“You did say this was Yunmeng territory,” Wei Wuxian remarks, a slightly hysterical edge to the words that he tries hard to suppress.
Lan Wangji, from his side of the wall, throws him a worried gaze that he brushes off. It’s not like he’s in any immediate danger (not that they can tell, anyway), it’s just-
He’d rather not be trapped with Jiang Cheng.
And trapped they are. While Lan Wangji can move around freely, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are trapped within a very specific perimeter: The invisible wall caging them in on three sides, and a stony cliff on the other.
“Lan Zhan, you gotta get out of here,” Wei Wuxian says with a long-suffering sigh, ignoring the silent protest on his face. “Go back to the village and send word to Lotus Pier. Clearly, only people from there have access to this, so they might be able to figure it out.”
Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng has graduated from punching one wall to punching another.
“There’s gotta be something here,” he mumbles mostly to himself, gearing up to hit the stone with Zidian. As soon as the whip makes contact, a blinding light fills the area, shocking a startled shout out of Wei Wuxian.
The light recedes and leaves behind an opening in the stone.
The two of them exchange wide-eyed glances, while Lan Wangji stares at the hole like it had personally offended him. This stare is directed at Jiang Cheng as soon as he says what they’re all reluctantly thinking.
“Only way out is through.”
Wei Wuxian shrugs his shoulders helplessly, turning towards his husband as he admits: “I think he’s right.”
“No,” Lan Wangji says adamantly, shaking his head. “Too dangerous. There’s only two of you, and you don’t know what’s in there.”
“Can’t be that dangerous if the villagers came back unharmed,” Jiang Cheng injects, which does nothing to lessen Lan Wangji’s dislike of him.
“None of the villagers carried clarity bells either. We can’t know if these things correlate,” he insists, but it is a lost fight.
“If there’s a chance this leads us out, I’d rather take it than wait around the next day for help from Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian explains gently, pressing his hand against the wall. He desperately wishes to hold Lan Wangji’s hand right now, to reassure him with a warm palm against his cheek.
But he can’t. And that alone is all the more motivation to try this.
“Wei Wuxian is right,” Jiang Cheng remarks, a sentence so rare and outlandish it rips both of them out of their conversation. “Who knows how long it would take to get help here. And even if they come soon, they’d just go in there anyway. We can always turn back, and I hope the Yiling Patriarch can handle some measly monsters.”
He goes for mocking, but the tone of his words comes out sincere and honest instead.
Wei Wuxian briefly pauses, a small smile on his face.
“That’s right,” he turns back to Lan Wangji, grinning at him with newfound determination. “What could be in there that Sandu Shengshou and the Yiling Patriarch can’t handle?”
———
The two quickly regret their words when, two steps into the dark cavern, Wei Wuxian turns back to tell Lan Wangji something before he leaves, and immediately finds that the wall has seemingly moved.
Instead of blocking the area around the cave, it now stops at the entrance, pushing them forward no matter what.
“No turning back now,” Wei Wuxian mumbles, catching sight of Jiang Cheng’s worried frown from the corner of his eyes.
“Will that husband of yours be fine?” Jiang Cheng asks, the question uncharacteristically genuine.
Wei Wuxian hums, moving further into the cavern and lighting an illumination talisman. “Didn’t you say it yourself? He’s Hanguang-jun, he’ll be fine. Just cause we prefer staying together doesn’t mean we have to, you know.”
He doesn’t get a response, but the sound of footsteps soon follows closely behind him.
As they step deeper into the cave, the path broadens, eventually leading into a space big enough to resemble the audience hall in Lotus Pier. The walls are even and sturdy, too perfect not to have been human-made. Worst of all, there once again seems to be no way forward.
Wei Wuxian turns to share a commiserating look with Jiang Cheng, and startles when he actually meets his gaze. For a second, they continue staring at each other, both caught off-guard by the familiarity of the motion, before Jiang Cheng abruptly tears his eyes away and stalks toward the left to investigate the wall.
Hesitantly, Wei Wuxian does the same on the other side. He stares at the blank stone for a bit, then presses out: “Do you… remember our first night hunt?”
Silence hangs between them for so long that he almost thinks Jiang Cheng simply won’t respond, but then a loud exhale echoes in the space.
“Of course I do.”
The response is pressed out between tightly clenched teeth, but at least he responded. Wei Wuxian has experienced enough in his two lifetimes to count his blessings.
“It was around here, wasn’t it?” he begins rambling mindlessly, desperate to fill the uncertain silence between them. He has been thinking about that one memory of his for days now, unable to stop the nostalgia and grief clawing at his heart even after all these years. Except, it hasn’t been all that many years for him, has it?
Not as many as it has been for Jiang Cheng. Perhaps that is why the loss still settles over him like a worn coat, like dust settling on a body that is still alive and moving, instead of sliding off an impenetrable armor.
“It was here,” Jiang Cheng retorts, his voice bringing Wei Wuxian back to the present. His response comes quicker but also quieter this time like he regrets letting it slip at all. “We stayed right here, with the head of the village. He’s the one who wrote to me.”
Wei Wuxian swallows harshly, half-heartedly probing at the unmoving wall.
“I didn’t recognize it,” he whispers. With his back turned like this, he doesn’t see how Jiang Cheng pauses, his hand pressed against the opposite wall, his face crumpling for a second before he pulls it back into anger and frustration.
“Screw all of this,” he hisses, the crackling and sparking of Zidian the only warning he gives before lashing out at the wall with it.
Miraculously, his brute force works for the second time in less than a shí.
Open-mouthed, Wei Wuxian watches as writing begins to appear where Jiang Cheng’s spiritual energy had hit the wall, the scrawling purple unmistakably Yunmeng Jiang. The floor, too, begins to change- An array, faded and barely legible, pulses in the dark of the cavern.
Jiang Cheng throws him a self-satisfied smirk, caressing Zidian almost fondly.
Rather than dignifying any of that with a response, Wei Wuxian strolls over to the array, trying to discern any runes he recognizes or hints as to what it might do. He can’t identify any of it, the shape and writing almost archaic compared to the arrays he is used to, but when he glances at his partner, he sees his eyes spark in recognition.
“I think I know what this place is,” Jiang Cheng murmurs, his eyes glancing back and forth between the smudged array and the writing on the wall, “and I’m pretty sure I know why the villagers kept disappearing and coming back unharmed.”
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian steps closer to him, tilting his head this way and that to try and decipher the writing on the walls. “What is it?”
“The Sect used to practice this ritual,” Jiang Cheng explains, hand stroking over the characters almost reverently. “A coming-of-age ceremony, like our first night hunt. It consisted of three trials to test the disciples on their knowledge and bravery. The ritual eventually fell out of fashion, but the Sect never stopped coming to this area for first night hunts.”
With a dismissive move of his hand, he gestures to the state of the array’s decay. “This array is so old and broken, it probably sucked anyone in. But the trial wasn’t meant to kill or dispose of unworthy disciples. If they failed to proceed, they simply got ejected after a day or so.
“So that’s how…” Wei Wuxian murmurs, crouching down once again to consider the mechanism in a new light. Now that he knows its story, some of it begins looking vaguely familiar, and he thinks he recognizes runes marking it as a transportation array. The pieces of Jiang Cheng’s theory fit together flawlessly before his mind catches on to another detail. “And the memory loss? Caused by the faulty array as well?”
Jiang Cheng shrugs. “Either that or they just didn’t want the disciples who had to retake the trial to remember what was coming for them.”
“And then an actual Yunmeng disciple entered the vicinity,” Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue. “That probably powered the array enough to fulfill its actual duty. Ay, too bad it sucked me in, too.”
“It needs two.”
The answer is sharp and biting, unlike the casual tone just before, causing Wei Wuxian to look up at Jiang Cheng in confusion.
“Huh?”
“This trial. It needs two disciples. Just like we always send them out in pairs for night hunts.”
Jiang Cheng stares intently at the wall, pretending to study the writing to avoid eye contact. His arms are crossed tightly in front of his body. Behind them, his heart is pumping rapidly, nervosity coursing through his veins.
His companion’s voice is breathless when he asks: “You mean I…?”
Of course, Jiang Cheng wants to say but doesn’t. Of course. Don’t you know your name is still in the records? Don’t you know your memorial tablet is placed next to all the others we lost?
What he spits out instead is: “Don’t be ridiculous. Aren’t you still wearing the bell? Of course, it recognized you.”
But this time, his bite isn’t enough to hide the emotions on his face, in his heart. Wei Wuxian looks at him consideringly, the traitorous feeling of hope budding in him, but he doesn’t push it any further.
“So what should we do? Just wait it out?” he asks instead. It’s a peace offering, a way to escape, one that Jiang Cheng gratefully takes.
“I don’t know what you had planned for the rest of the day, but I don’t exactly want to waste any more time. I’m on a schedule. This thing was made for young disciples- Shouldn’t be too hard to just clear the trials.”
Agreeing with him is easy- He did have better plans for his day than wait around to be rescued. And besides, Wei Wuxian thinks, stepping on the array at the same time as Jiang Cheng and watching it increase in brightness immediately, they went through something like this once before. Years have passed and times have changed, but maybe, just this once, it could be the same as it was back then.
———
The first chamber announces itself as the Trial of Wisdom through more ominous writing on the walls of a stone cave.
Once again, glowing lines on the ground draw their attention in, though they are far less smudged this time.
“They must’ve been strapped for budget back then,” Wei Wuxian grumbles as he circles it. “They couldn’t come up with anything more inventive? Will it just be array after array?”
“Idiot,” Jiang Cheng chides. The sound of it is so reminiscent of their days as teenagers that Wei Wuxian’s breath catches against the lump forming in his throat. “Don’t disrespect the ancestors.”
“This is your area of expertise. I told you where we are, now this is up to you. Good luck,” Jiang Cheng continues unperturbed, gesturing towards the array with an expectant look on his face.
“But Jiang Cheng,” his companion whines, not even noticing the flinch at his slip-up, “this is so old! Can’t you see? I barely even understand any of these signs!”
Jiang Cheng breathes deeply, hands clenched so tightly at his sides that they’re leaving bloody half-moons on his palms. He breathes again, exhales, relaxes. Falls back into their well-practiced rhythm of pull and push.
“And?” he asks, uncaring if not for the slight shake of his voice. “I thought you were the genius, you’ll figure it out.”
“Figure out something so ancient not even Lan Qiren would know about it?”
This time, the annoyed eye roll is real. Jiang Cheng steps closer, eyes scanning over the ground to confirm his suspicion. “If you truly can’t recognize this, you’re losing your touch. You used to work with these runes when we were in the Cloud Recesses.”
Genuinely surprised by that, Wei Wuxian pauses and looks back at the array. “I was?”
“Are you playing dumb?” the Jiang Sect Leader narrows his eyes, foot kicking near one symbol. “This is from those protection arrays you were obsessed with. The one from the old records at Lotus Pier.”
He can tell when Wei Wuxian remembers what he's talking about because his whole face lights up.
“Oh gods, I can’t believe I forgot that,” he laughs, looking at the array with new eyes. Then, his eyes widen and he turns back to Jiang Cheng, voice small as he adds: “I can’t believe you didn’t.”
He looks away and refuses to meet his searching gaze. “I was the one who told you about them, wasn’t I? And I was the one you kept awake all night with your rambling, and whose desk you crowded with sketches.”
“Still, I- I don’t know how I didn’t remember. I even used to work on them a bit in the Burial Mounds, after-” he cuts himself off, anything he could’ve said turning to ash on his tongue.
After Lotus Pier burned and he realized the necessity of protecting rather than attacking. After the Cultivation World abandoned him, abandoned the Wens and left him to fend for all of them. After he left the Sect so Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have to worry any more than he already did.
He clears his throat and shakes his head, forcing cheer back into his voice. “Well, good news, I’m probably the only living expert on this kind of array! Just leave it to your shixio- to me! Leave it to me, I’ll figure it out.”
Jiang Cheng, once again, lets the slip-up pass by uncommented. He waits patiently as Wei Wuxian scurries around the array, mumbling to himself as he does, sometimes probing at it with some spiritual energy. This is welcome, ordinary, a routine he used to know intimately.
It really doesn’t take Wei Wuxian long at all, once he knows what he’s working with. Jiang Cheng was right, the trials were made easy enough for the average disciple to pass. There’s no way he wouldn’t have been able to solve this, though the outdated form of the array threw him for a loop.
“As you said, it’s a protection array,” he explains to an attentive Jiang Cheng, wiping dust from his hands as he gestures to different parts on the ground. “They probably used it in Lotus Pier at some point, making it so commonplace every disciple needed to know how it worked. From what I understand, all we need to do is activate it.”
No less intelligent than he is, Jiang Cheng immediately picks up on his phrasing. “We?”
He nods, pointing at a rune near them. “This signifies a crowd or group- I think it means this needs at least two people to activate it.”
Immediately, the Jiang Sect Leader’s eyes zero in on him. He halts for a second before he asks: “Do you… have qi?”
Mind still caught on the array, Wei Wuxian blurts out unthinkingly: “Yep! This body came with a matching core, bundle deal…”
His voice fades into nothingness as his eyes widen and he realizes what he’d said. He opens his mouth, to explain or to deflect or to apologize, he doesn’t know- But Jiang Cheng’s face has already hardened, teeth clenching as he aims his hand at the circle on the floor.
“Ready?” he asks simply. At the answering nod, he begins to spread his qi into the mechanism, Wei Wuxian replicating his movements on the other side.
The mechanism doesn’t simply take their qi to activate. Instead, it guides them in two paralleling paths through the individual runes, lighting them up one by one. At the top of the array - the group symbol - their pathways cross and unite.
The array bursts into light, and the sound of stone sliding indicates an opening in one of the walls around them. But neither of them notices, too drawn into the paths their energy is still circulating.
Jiang Cheng feels the second their qi interact, and judging by the shudder running through him, so does Wei Wuxian. Their eyes meet just as their energy does, an almost magnetic force connecting their bodies. Neither of them breaks the eye contact. For a second, the world seems to shift.
When they’d started training for all of this, they always rushed to Jiang Yanli, eagerly showing off each new advancement and development they made. Of course, more often than not, Wei Wuxian reached it before he did.
He’d unlocked his qi first, too. A perfect, strong, steady stream of spiritual energy. Jiang Cheng watched in fascination that evolved into envy when his father began fussing over it.
He’d run to his sister to complain, hiding in her pavilion like he was still a child, lamenting how unfair the world was. His wise, benevolent Jiejie only laughed and carded her hand through his hair as she comforted him.
“A qi is like a person’s heart, A-Cheng,” she cooed, “It is unmistakable and real, and it needs time to grow and develop. Don’t rush, and don’t allow jealousy to blind who you are. It only muddies the path to discovery.”
A week later, Jiang Cheng managed his first burst of qi.
The qi touching his now is not one he recognizes intimately like he used to. It still runs hot, curls, twists expressively. But there are new facets to it. Calmness and patience, no doubt a byproduct of Lan Wangji’s influence on him. And traces of someone else, someone unknown- Mo Xuanyu, whose body he is in, whose core still carries traces of its original owner.
That body sits across from him, so eerily similar and yet so completely different to the Wei Wuxian he’d known in his youth. Like that body, Wei Wuxian’s energy has shifted and changed, carrying a new gravity and an undying, newfound spark he’s never felt before. It is just like him, and yet a completely different person. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he likes it.
If his qi has changed, he wonders with a pang of his heart, wishing so desperately he could once again talk to his intelligent, empathic sister, does that mean his heart has changed too? Is he not who he was before?
And, Jiejie… Have I changed just like he did?
———
A few minutes, or maybe only a few seconds after starting the array, Wei Wuxian blinks, and the hypnotic atmosphere surrounding them shatters.
As is usual for them, they don’t talk about it.
Wei Wuxian clears his throat, shaking his head slightly to dispel the haze still clouding his mind. Only then does he register the opening in the wall behind Jiang Cheng, his mouth forming a perfect circle in surprise.
“Looks like we cleared this part, at least,” he declares awkwardly, shuffling on the spot with a brittle smile on his face.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t respond. He brushes off the non-existent dust, double-checks Sandu and Zidian, and steps towards the door. With a soundless sigh, Wei Wuxian moves to follow.
The second chamber, all things considered, turns out to be even less challenging than the first one.
Before they even set foot into it, the weakened sounds of monsters tell them this will be much more similar to the standard procedure of a night hunt. They share a look, and Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows in an unspoken challenge.
Bet I’ll clear them before you do.
Jiang Cheng has never once backed down from a challenge.
They advance into the next room in one synchronized movement, their weapons already drawn. Immediately, they come face-to-face with a horde of monsters like they’d been expecting initially.
The daolaogui awaiting them are slow, but no less dangerous for it. Their skins range from a dark, sick green to a poisonous, deep purple.
“There are female and male ones here,” Wei Wuxian notes, remaining in his spot, waiting for the ghosts to come to him.
“Be careful,” Jiang Cheng warns, eyes fixed on the approaching enemies, “male ones are especially poisonous. And who knows what they’ve been feeding on all this time.”
There’s no time for a response before the first daolaogui lunges at them. It moves sluggishly, almost like it is frozen in time, but its claws and opening mouth leave no doubt as to its intent.
“How long do you think these guys have been trapped here?” Wei Wuxian asks, evading the ghost skillfully, dancing around its outstretched claws. The purple of Zidian immediately slithers into the space he’d left, strangling the creature before it can even process what happened.
“Several generations, at least. Father didn’t even know about this, I only found out about it when I was rebuilding the library,” he responds, shifting his grip on Sandu and stepping into the now empty space where the daolaogui had stood.
Fighting gets easy after that. Without even noticing, they fall back into an age-old rhythm.
Wei Wuxian steps back, Jiang Cheng stabs. Jiang Cheng stumbles, Wei Wuxian slashes. Their motions are practiced, muscle memory. Even after decades apart, they still remember the days of fighting together better than the years spent apart.
Jiang Cheng has been fending for himself for a long time. No matter which battlefield he steps on, he is always the leader, the one in charge. He is who his subordinates look to for protection, he is who Jin Ling hides behind when a night hunt goes wrong. And so, he has become a whirlwind of movements, Zidian and Sandu whirling around him in flurries of attacks to guard and save as many as possible. Nobody has guarded his back like an equal for years.
Wei Wuxian has grown used to fighting alongside Lan Wangji, a skilled, well-rounded combatant in his own right. But for most of that time, he had little to no cultivation to work with, instead resorting to demonic cultivation. And the Lan fight very differently from the Jiang. Like this, with a sword in his hand, the Jiang forms ingrained in his muscles like they were years ago, he knows for certain that the person beside him knows his flaws even better than his own. They always practiced together, practiced to be a duo, honed into every little imperfection of the other.
They stand back to back, ghosts advancing on them from every side, but not one manages to land a hit. Their defense is impenetrable and natural, every attack and parry flowing perfectly into the next move.
“I missed this!” Wei Wuxain laughs over the groan of another body hitting the ground. Jiang Cheng finds himself smirking, mouth opening to respond in kind before he consciously thinks about it-
And falters.
Even low-level as they are, the daolaogui do not miss a chance to attack. Wei Wuxian, still caught up in the exhilaration of the feeling of fighting together once again, doesn’t notice as one ghost advances, its mouth opening to spit poison onto Jiang Cheng’s right arm seconds before Sandu sends its head flying.
“Jiang Cheng?”
The alarmed call brings Jiang Cheng back to the present, and away from the pain radiating through his arms.
“Stay focused, idiot!” he calls through clenched teeth, already turning back to attacking even more aggressively than before. “We don’t need anyone else injured.”
For once in his life, Wei Wuxian actually shuts up and obeys, his kills becoming even more effortlessly ruthless. The room is cleared quickly after that. As soon as the last ghost falls, another door in the wall opens up.
He doesn’t notice, removing his sword from the last body he felled before rushing over to Jiang Cheng and frantically inspecting his injury. “How bad is it? Do you already feel the effects?”
His companion rolls his eyes, pushing him away gently but decidedly. “Don’t be ridiculous. It takes a full day even for regular humans, it won’t affect me for a while yet. I was just startled.”
The eyes that fix on him are sharp and serious, allowing no room for messing around.
“Don’t lie to me. You know this could’ve been bad. Maybe we should just turn back now.”
“After two rooms? Just to wait a whole day?” Jiang Cheng scoffs, shaking his head. “We may as well try to escape on our own.”
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to argue back, already gearing up for a fight, but he is beaten to it by Jiang Cheng stepping around him towards the opening to the third and final room.
———
There is an array in the middle of the third chamber.
Wei Wuxian turns his head to the sky and audibly groans. “Oh come on!”
Jiang Cheng snorts, leaving him to his antics as he goes to look it over - a decision he regrets immediately when the array pulses and the door shuts close behind them.
The second groan is much longer and much more dramatic.
Once again, it goes ignored. Jiang Cheng leans over the mechanism, inspecting runes along the edge. Pleasantly surprised, he says: “Hey, I think I recognize some of these.”
That piques Wei Wuxians interest enough to get him to finally come over, leaning down to stare at the same symbols, trying to assign a reading to them that will give them a clue as to what they have to do to complete the trial.
“These are…”
“... used for interrogation,” Jiang Cheng finishes for him, looking up to let his suspicious gaze travel around the room. Outloud, he wonders: “What could we possibly be interrogating here?”
“I don’t think it’s exactly that,” his partner says, just as he finally spots the writing on the wall.
Trial of Trust, the characters read, and with a sinking feeling, Jiang Cheng turns back to the array and the symbols Wei Wuxian is scrutinizing.
“Here, this is kinda similar to the group part from before, but I don’t think it means a whole group in this case,” he muses, absentmindedly twirling Chenqing in his hands as he thinks. “And that there is reveal- but reveal what, exactly? Some hidden mechanism?”
“A secret,” the Sect Leader guesses, numbly resigned to what he knows is coming.
Wei Wuxian, not yet having caught on, hums in agreement as he tilts his head this way or that. “That sounds like it could be it. How did you-”
Finally, he glances up and notices the characters. Caught off guard, he blinks a couple of times, then says: “Oh.”
“Oh,” Jiang Cheng echoes, and silence settles over them.
“Well… I secretly stole two apples from a tree a while back. I told Lan Zhan I’d bought them, but only cause I knew he wouldn’t eat them otherwise.” Wei Wuxian laughs nervously, glancing at the array, desperation written across his face.
Of course, it doesn’t work.
“Why in the world would that work?” Jiang Cheng bites, the combination of the faint throbbing of his arm and the tension mounting in both of them enough to get him on edge, fury coursing through him as a defense mechanism.
“Why wouldn’t it?” Wei Wuxian retorts snappishly, “You said a secret, that was one!”
“You think a trial of trust would be happy with a secret about apples?”
Wei Wuxian whirls on him, eyebrows furrowed angrily as he steps closer to where Jiang Cheng is standing. “I don’t get why you’re so upset! At least I’m trying! It didn’t work, fine, now we move on!”
“Oh, so what, now I’m not even allowed to voice criticism?”
The argument is pointless, a result of pent-up emotions and unsaid words neither of them wants to say, Wei Wuxian realizes with a start. They’re not fighting to clear the air, or because anyone is frustrated at the other. It’s just all they know how to do at this point.
The conclusion leaves him breathless, all anger leaving him immediately.
He deflates, Jiang Cheng still standing across from him all tensed up and ready to spit more venom if provoked. All of a sudden, Wei Wuxian is exhausted by the farce.
“I don’t understand,” he whispers, his voice small and broken in the empty space, filled only by their breaths. “It was going so well. We were doing so well, fighting and working together just like we used to. Why are you like this? Do you truly hate me so much you can’t even endure pretending for a day?”
Jiang Cheng flinches, mouth opening uncertainly as hurt flashes across his face. It disappears immediately behind a wall of indignation as he explodes: “Which one of us hates the other so much he renounced the Sect not once, but two times?”
“I did that to protect you!” Wei Wuxian yells, body shaking from the force of his emotions. “You couldn’t shield me back then with the Sect as it was, and now, you have built a life without me! I may not have chosen to return, but I can choose to not drag you down with me any longer!”
They are so caught up in the coiling waves of their argument they don’t notice the faint light emitting from one half of the array, now activated, while the other half continues sitting in darkness.
“Who are you to make that choice for me? Who are you to make any choices for me?!” Jiang Cheng roars back at him, chest heaving as his hands gesticulate wildly and his face slowly turns red, uncaring even of the pain radiating from his arm in the heat of the moment. “This is just like you, always deciding for others as if you know them best. Well, guess fucking what: You don’t! You don’t know what's best for me!”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrow, the feeling of having two different conversations at the same time washing over him. Slowly, the truth dawns on him, and he probes with a disbelieving laugh: “Is this still about the golden core?”
It hits the spot immediately, Jiang Cheng taking two steps closer, his left index finger raised and nearly poking Wei Wuxian’s chest as he shouts: “I didn’t want your damn core!”
“Well too fucking bad!” Wei Wuxian spits back. “Because I gave it anyway, and I would do it again!”
Jiang Cheng watches him, with no words left to say. Incredulity blooms on his face, his eyebrows furrowing in something beyond a frown, more nearing devastation and bewilderment.
His voice breaks, asking bitterly as he turns away like he can’t endure looking at him any longer: “Why are you always like this- Why can’t you ever let me be the one to protect you? Even in this, you just can’t stand to be second best, can you? Couldn’t even let me sacrifice my damn core for you!”
Wei Wuxian freezes.
The second half of the array lights up.
“What?”
Jiang Cheng bites his lip, tears of anger welling up in his eyes as he chokes on anything he could’ve said.
“Jiang Cheng, what in the world do you mean by that?” Wei Wuxian repeats slowly, almost afraid of the answer as he steps closer. One hand reaches for the man in front of him, but before it can make contact, he takes a step away.
“Did you truly think I was so stupid I’d let myself get caught by the Wens?”
It’s not an answer, but it is one all the same.
Mouth wide open, Wei Wuxian pants, struggling for words to no avail. His thoughts whirl as he fights to recontextualize- everything he thought he knew about the Sunshot Campaign, and oh god, was this how Jiang Cheng had felt when Wen Ning revealed everything to him? Like the ground had disappeared, the sun had shifted away from the earth, leaving everything a dark, bottomless, abyss?
Thankfully, Jiang Cheng continues even without further prompting. “We were on the run and hiding. I saw the Wens, and I saw you. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make.”
“Why?” is all Wei Wuxian manages to press out, voice wobbling even on just that one word.
“Because you’re my brother, alright?” Jiang Cheng snaps, finally turning back to face him, revealing the tear tracks on his face. “Gods, you’re really as thick as it gets!”
He doesn’t get to complain about Wei Wuxian any longer though he no doubt could have, because the next second he has an armful of him hanging off his body. Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know what to do, arms frozen at his sides as his brother dissolves into sobs against him.
Through the blubbering, he just barely manages to make out: “So reckless- always scolding me, but you’re just as bad- you’re my brother, too- I missed you.”
Try as he might, Jiang Cheng can’t win against the cries building in his own chest, more tears rolling down his face even as he fights valiantly against them. Timidly, gradually, his arms rise to engulf Wei Wuxian in a true embrace.
Eventually, they do part from each other, though not without a lot of tears and snot shed between them.
Wei Wuxian manages a wet laugh at the sight of his swollen face, roughly wiping the moisture from his own cheeks. Just this once, Jiang Cheng gives him a pass for it. Extenuating circumstances, and all.
Only then do they notice the new, and final doorway. Light, the natural light of the sun rather than that of an array, now illuminates the space around them, bathing them in an almost golden glow.
For a second, they look uncertainly at each other. The two of them are not good at talking- one or two or a hundred secrets shared will not change this. But there is an understanding, a knowledge, that the secrets have changed everything else.
Wei Wuxian reaches for Jiang Cheng’s hand, gripping it tightly even as his brother squirms uncomfortably at the contact. “Promise me that we won’t pretend this didn’t happen as soon as we leave.”
His tone is almost begging, pleading for Jiang Cheng to say yes. It has taken them this long to get here. He doesn’t want to lose it all over again.
Jiang Cheng avoids eye contact, ears turning suspiciously red. Still, he squeezes Wei Wuxian’s hand back, mumbling a quiet but honest: “Promise.”
It’s enough for Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng has never gone back on a promise he made.
The smile on his face is genuine, and so, so soft as he drags his brother towards the exit.
“All right then, what are we waiting for? Time to get back to that schedule you had.”
The world turns bright. In harmony, two bells chime.
———
The sudden influx of daylight on the other side is bright enough to make them both groan and shield their eyes. Even with their temporary blindness, they can’t miss the overlapping shouts of their names from various voices.
“Jiang-zongzhu!”
“Wei Ying.”
Before Wei Wuxian can even process the cacophony of noises, he sees a blur of white and blue stride hurriedly toward him, familiar hands gliding over his shoulders and arms to grasp his hands, unintentionally tearing him away from Jiang Cheng.
“You are unharmed?” Lan Wangji mumbles, relief evident in his eyes and the softening of his entire body.
“Yes,” Wei Wuxian responds, “but-”
He urgently turns to the gathered Jiang disciples, gesturing at their Sect Leader next to him. “I hope you brought a healer! We got into it with a daolaogui, and one of them got A-Cheng!”
“No thanks to you, dumbass!” he grumbles, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the cultivators crowding around him and checking him over and over again. “And just who are you calling A-Cheng?!”
Only one cultivator remains standing on the edge of the group, eying Wei Wuxian hesitantly. Rather than looking after her Sect Leader, the young woman steps forward and toward him, hands fisted near her clarity.
Her voice is uncertain but steady as she asks: “... Wei-shixiong?”
Immediately, silence falls over the gathered people as they turn to look at them.
Wei Wuxian takes one long look at her and gasps, new tears forming in his eyes as he recognizes the face of a particularly stubborn young disciple in this adult woman.
“Qing-shimei?”
The other disciples break into whispers, their gazes darting between the two of them and Jiang Cheng. Even if they don’t remember him personally, they know of their Sect Leader’s history and the rumors that had been spread about them in the wake of the Siege of the Burial Mounds. Nobody dares move until Jiang Cheng himself clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
“Well then, what are you looking at?” he barks, though combined with his still runny nose and red eyes, it loses all of its intimidation. “Have you learned nothing? Nobody knows how to greet their shixiong anymore?”
Wei Wuxian can almost hear the sound of Lan Wangji’s head whipping between the two of them, giving him a probing look as his lips quirk up. He beams at him, at his husband, and his brother, and the many shidis and shimeis gathered around him, some of which he recognizes from a lifetime ago, but most of which he doesn’t.
Once more, he hears the echo of a painfully familiar voice. It is Yu Ziyuan’s, in one of her rare open moments. She stood between him and Jiang Cheng on the training field at Lotus Pier, lecturing them about playing tricks on children from the village.
Jiang Cheng whined, a sound so eerily similar to Jin Ling now, and protested: “But Mother, they stole our robes when we went swimming-”
Yu Ziyuan, harsh even in her affectionate moments, snapped back: “You are to be a Sect Leader and his Second-in-Command! You are supposed to lead us by example! Do you think you can hold onto a petty vengeance such as this? The past died yesterday, but the future is born today!”
The past of Yunmeng Jiang died decades ago. Its future is born again in a little forest.