Chapter Text
The letter arrives early one morning, a single unassuming page slipped into a pile of official correspondence the width of Wei Wuxian’s thumb. Its plainness is what catches Wei Wuxian’s eye from where he’s draped across Lan Wangji’s back, his chin resting on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. He sits up long enough to slip it free, laying it out next to the much more elaborately written reiteration of trade agreements from one of the smaller sects.
To the esteemed Hanguang-Jun, it begins. May this letter find you in good health.
What follows is an eyewateringly long list of plaudits and praise that Wei Wuxian skims through. Nothing in the list includes the details most cultivators would bring up — there’s nothing in here about his cultivation skills or position within the Lan sect, or even anything about the Sunshot Campaign. Instead, the list of great deeds includes — “protector of Caiyi Town,” he reads. “Savior of Zhushan — where even is Zhushan?”
“A town to the southwest,” Lan Wangji says, not looking up from his writing. “A fairy was feeding on the souls of children.”
“Champion of the citizens of Huishan — Lan Zhan, how many children have you saved, exactly?” He’d known, of course, that Lan Wangji had been busy taking on the sorts of unglamorous jobs most cultivators from the great sects wouldn’t, despite how devastating even the most unglamorous of hauntings can be. He just hadn’t realized there had been so many of them.
“I had time,” Lan Wangji murmurs, ducking his head just a little, like that will hide the pink in his ears. “Many of them weren’t difficult.” He’s paused in his writing, the brush held over the inkstone to avoid blotting the paper as he listens to Wei Wuxian read.
Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “Well, whoever wrote this tried to get all of them, I think. There’s more, if you want to read them. This one is humbly requesting the help of Hanguang-Jun, in his capacity as protector and friend to the people, defender and shield against darkness and so on and so forth…” He skims down the page. “The Li family of Jiangdu has disappeared. Nobody can enter the estate on account of a ward, and none of the Lis or their household staff have been seen for — ”
He checks the date on the letter. “For a little over two weeks, now,” he says. “Including the letter writer’s friend, the household’s cook, which isn’t like her. Two passing cultivators went to help and also disappeared, and the letter writer doesn’t know who else to turn to, so will the esteemed Hanguang-Jun and his dedication to justice visit Jiangdu and shine a light into the dark corners of this mystery, etcetera etcetera, signed — this must be the district judge, on behalf of a concerned resident, whoever that is.” He sets the paper aside. “We should take a look,” he says.
He isn’t lying. Jiangdu is well within the area controlled and protected by the Gusu Lan, which makes it their responsibility by default. Even if it weren’t, the letter writer’s attempt to remind Lan Wangji of every generous act he’s ever done speaks to their desperation. It isn’t the sort of job likely to provide a reward or social benefit, and it has already killed two cultivators. If they don’t take on the job, it’s unlikely anyone will. It’s really only proper.
…Besides, it’ll give Wei Wuxian a chance to get out of Cloud Recesses for a little while.
He doesn’t want to leave, exactly. He’s gotten used to the ghosts here — avoiding the place Lan Wangji had nearly been whipped to death is second nature to him now, and the way the Lan elders ignore his presence no longer stings the way it used to. Time has smoothed the sharpest edges off of his memories of being here the first time, with Jiang Cheng and his shijie, before everything had fallen apart.
In every way that matters, Cloud Recesses has become his home. He doesn’t reflexively check his jade token anymore as he steps through the wards. The little Lan disciples bow to him in the hallways and try to get him to sit in on guqin practice. He even teaches a flock of startlingly clever and astonishingly kind kids Lan Qiren has inexplicably entrusted into his care. It’s nice, having a place that’s his, it really is, it’s just —
He’s rapidly reaching the day he’ll have lived in Cloud Recesses longer than he lived in the Burial Mounds, and he can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. He knows it’s nothing, it’s just paranoia, but with each successive sunrise the itch of anticipation settling in between his shoulderblades intensifies. He’s started waking up in the middle of the night in a panic, sure he’s forgotten something vitally important. No amount of reassurances from Lan Wangji can fully calm the feeling that there’s some danger he’s not thinking of, some impending doom about to fall upon them both, something obvious he won’t see until it’s too late to avoid.
He hadn’t considered traveling for a night hunt, but now that the opportunity has presented itself, he can’t not take it. It’ll be good to go somewhere and do something worth doing — and if it gets them away from Cloud Recesses and the looming panic hooked into Wei Wuxian’s spine, so much the better.
Some of his need to go somewhere and do something must come through in his voice. One of the private little joys of Wei Wuxian’s life is knowing he’s one of a vanishingly small number of people permitted to see Lan Wangji look less than perfect; the way Lan Wangji goes a little cross-eyed trying to look at him makes Wei Wuxian’s chest fill with warmth and his arms tighten around Lan Wangji’s waist. “I was going to send some of the juniors,” Lan Wangji says. “Do you want to go instead?”
Wei Wuxian nods.
“Then let’s go.”
It’s two days’ journey to Jiangdu by donkey. It’s slower than flying, but Jiangdu is close enough to Cloud Recesses that it only takes them a little longer than it would by sword. While he doesn’t mind the idea of riding Bichen alongside Lan Wangji, in practice his new body makes the exercise fraught. He’s acclimated pretty well, he thinks, but flying makes him realize all the limitations of pretty well.
They reach Jiangdu late in the evening of the second day. They are close enough to Gusu that the innkeepers, a husband and wife, clearly recognize Lan Wangji, greeting him by title as they welcome him. Wei Wuxian gets a more skeptical look — he’s not sure if it’s because they don’t recognize him, or because they do.
As the man leads Lan Wangji to their room, the woman takes Lil’ Apple to the stable, Wei Wuxian trailing after her.
“Are you here about Li Dasheng?” she asks, giving Wei Wuxian an appraising look as she ushers Lil’ Apple into a stable and begins filling the feeding trough with hay.
“You caught us,” Wei Wuxian says with a grin, leaning against the doorframe and watching Lil’ Apple set in on her dinner with a vengeance. “Which, while I’ve got you here — can you tell me anything about him?”
The woman nods towards the road. “His estate is a few li further west,” she says. “He likes to come to Jiangdu most days and throw his weight around.”
“Not a friend of yours, then?” Wei Wuxian asks.
She snorts. “He made a small fortune trading silk, and now he treats Jiangdu like he bought it.” Her expression is not fond. “A few weeks ago he simply stopped showing up. Nobody has come out of their estate, and nobody has been able to get into the inner estate.” She stops, reconsidering her words. “Or rather, a pair of cultivators have tried, but nobody has seen them since. Presumably they made it in, they just never made it out.”
“Do you know what sect they were from?” Wei Wuxian asks.
She shrugs. “I couldn’t tell you. They didn’t have Lan headbands, that’s all I know.”
“Are you safe here?” Wei Wuxian asks.
"Safe enough, I'd guess!” she says, laughing. “Didn’t you hear me just say the Li estate has killed two cultivators? I’d worry more about myself, if I were you!”
"Fair enough," Wei Wuxian replies with a laugh, making a mental note to put some talismans up, just in case. With one last affectionate pat on Lil’ Apple’s nose, he goes to find Lan Wangji.
When he returns to the inn, Lan Wangji is seated at a table, accompanied by two bowls of noodles. As Wei Wuxian sits, Lan Wangji pours a cup of wine, then a cup of tea, setting each neatly in its place.
“Hi,” Wei Wuxian says, taking his time to bask in Lan Wangji’s smile. “I spoke to our hostess,” he says. “First, and most importantly — ”
He pauses for dramatic effect. Lan Wangji’s face has gone still and attentive, waiting for Wei Wuxian to speak. “Lil’ Apple should be very comfortable while we’re here.”
Lan Wangji closes his eyes as though in real pain, although a trace of a smile still lurks around the corners of his mouth. “Ridiculous,” he mutters, his voice fond.
Wei Wuxian beams at him. “Otherwise,” he says, adding a healthy dose of chili oil to his bowl, “it sounds like Li Dasheng is not particularly well liked around here. Depending on the nature of what happened to him — ”
He pauses to try the noodles. “Oh, these are good,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “It could be spicier, though — ” As he adds another few helpings of chili oil he continues, “I mean, we’ll have to actually go, take a look around, but it’s worth keeping in mind,” and then he tucks into his meal properly.
He finishes his well before Lan Wangji does. The pleasant anticipation of diving into a new puzzle shivers through his veins as he settles back to enjoy his wine. A cool breeze blows through the main room of the inn, a relief from the earlier heat of the day. “This is nice,” he says.
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow.
“I mean, yes, an entire family disappearing and vanishing cultivators aren’t ideal,” Wei Wuxian says, waving his hand. “But being out here! Investigating a mystery! Mortal peril, even! I mean, Lan Zhan, imagine — it’s been months since someone last tried to kill me — ”
Lan Wangji flinches.
It's only a very tiny flinch, the slightest movement of his lips, his fingers tightening against his bowl. Wei Wuxian only catches it out of the corner of his eye; he's confident Lan Wangji didn't mean for him to notice.
When he looks back at Lan Wangji properly, Lan Wangji’s expression is carefully blank. “Lan Zhan," he says softly.
"Mm?” Lan Wangji sips his tea, apparently determined to pretend he didn’t just react.
"Lan Zhan," he says again.
“Has there been trouble this far out of town?”
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth, then closes it again, considering Lan Wangji’s careful, perfect posture and the way his fingers curl just a fraction too hard around his chopsticks.
Wei Wuxian will let it go. For now.
“The innkeeper says they’ve been safe so far,” he says, pouring himself another generous slug of wine. “But she confirmed other cultivators have visited and haven’t returned. We should head to the Li estate first thing tomorrow.”
Lan Wangji inclines his head. They finish the meal in silence.
"It bothers you," Wei Wuxian says casually as he shrugs out of his outer robes that night. It's still early enough he won't be able to sleep, but he likes to get ready for bed when Lan Wangji does, all the same. Once Lan Wangji is asleep he’ll write up some notes — he’ll be able to provide a good example for the juniors.
…When did he get so boring? He’d be annoyed, really, if he weren’t so fond of the kids.
Lan Wangji tenses, his hands pausing almost imperceptibly as he folds his robes, tucking them away before beginning to take down his hair. "What does?" he asks.
"When I say things like that,” Wei Wuxian says, tossing his robes across the back of the room’s one short chair. “About almost dying.” He flops into bed, tugging at Lan Wangji’s hand as soon as he’s near enough. When Lan Wangji sits, Wei Wuxian adjusts until he can put his head in Lan Wangji’s lap, dropping Lan Wangji’s hand into his hair.
"It — does," Lan Wangji admits as he pets Wei Wuxian’s hair obediently. His tone is carefully flat. It’s painfully obvious he does not want to be having this conversation.
Wei Wuxian reaches up to tuck a few stray hairs behind Lan Wangji’s ear. “You should have told me, Lan-er gege,” he says.
"You didn't mean it," Lan Wangji says. “It’s fine.”
Wei Wuxian traces the shell of Lan Wangji's ear with his fingers. “It’s not fine,” he says, smiling all the same as Lan Wangji turns his head to kiss Wei Wuxian's palm. "Don't try and distract me, you silly man," he scolds, brushing his fingers across Lan Wangji's lower lip. "Why didn’t you say anything? Your husband is annoyed with you!”
Lan Wangji catches his wrist with one hand. The hand in Wei Wuxian’s hair tightens as Lan Wangji’s eyes meet his; holding his gaze, Lan Wangji presses Wei Wuxian’s finger into the warmth of his mouth, running his tongue along the pad. “Oh,” Wei Wuxian says, the breath half punched out of him, warmth coiling low in his belly.
Lan Wangji pulls Wei Wuxian’s hand away from his mouth. Wei Wuxian can feel his face heat up at the wet sound it makes. “Is he, now,” Lan Wangji murmurs.
"He is!" Wei Wuxian says, fighting to keep the scowl on his face.
“Hm.” Wei Wuxian is about to point out that’s not an answer when Lan Wangji hauls him upright like he weighs nothing, manhandling him until he’s straddling Lan Wangji’s lap. He wraps his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders, gasping when Lan Wangji nips at his lower lip, his hips jerking forward of their own accord.
Wei Wuxian isn’t quite willing to throw in the conversational towel yet. “I mean it, please tell me next time,” he says in a rush as Lan Wangji kisses his way down his jaw, trying to get it out before he's well and truly distracted. “I’m not going anywhere, you know — ”
Lan Wangji’s hands settle on Wei Wuxian’s hips as he nips at Wei Wuxian’s throat. Wei Wuxian shivers, tilting his head back to give Lan Wangji easier access. “Right now? I should hope not,” he says, his lips brushing against Wei Wuxian's pulse point.
Wei Wuxian laughs. “And he’s funny — Lan Zhan, how am I supposed to resist you? And I’m not,” he adds, wiggling a little, just to feel Lan Wangji’s fingers tighten against him, anchoring him in place. “You’ve caught me, you’ve fed me, you’ve taken me home, you’re stuck with me forever.” Lan Wangji’s teeth scrape against a sensitive spot and Wei Wuxian hisses. “So, Lan Zhan,” he purrs, his fingers catching at the edge of Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon. “Whatever are you going to do with your poor, captive husband?“
Lan Wangji kisses him, rolling his hips up against Wei Wuxian’s, and then Wei Wuxian has more interesting things to worry about than Lan Wangji’s reaction at dinner.