Chapter Text
It was a chilly night in Gusu—no, scratch that—it was frigid .
Sitting on the porch of the healer’s den, Lan Huan pulled his cloak up to his red nose and figured this was what hell would feel like if it were frozen over. He watched snow dribble down and bury the ground in layers of white, rising like a sea of white until it buried the first few wooden steps and reached little Huan’s knees when he stood on the dirt.
It was the height of winter, one of the hardest times in Gusu. Huan’s teeth chattered, his small hands burrowing into his cloak, seeking warmth. He was told to return to the Hanshi and sleep, but how could he?
His little brother was being born.
The healers are worried because he’s a month premature, but Huan knows his brother will pull through. He has to.
Snow crunched, and he perked up to see his uncle approaching. “Shufu,” he smiled, “You’re waiting for the baby, too?”
The older man sighed, a cloud of mist dissipating around his mouth, “A-Huan. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” His uncle scolded but took a seat on the porch beside him.
Huan’s cheeky grin was cheeky and excited. “How can I sleep, Shufu?” he asked. “My baby brother is arriving tonight!”
His uncle shook his head but did not reprimand him. He shed his cloak and wrapped it around the young boy, tucking him into his side, rubbing his arms and trying to soothe his nephew’s shivers. They sat on the porch until Huan was half-asleep, mumbles of his plans to be the best big brother ever fading as he drooled on his uncle’s shoulder, only roused by the doors behind them creaking open. The two turned, squinting as syrupy light poured onto the patio, glinting off the snow beyond the healer’s den like flakes of gold were sprinkled throughout.
“The baby?” Huan was immediately awake.
The stress of delivering a son prematurely melted from his father’s face, and tired warmth replaced it. “He’s here,” he gestured to the room, “Let’s go meet your brother.”
Huan jumped up, nearly slipping on the mahogany floor in his haste. His mother looked exhausted, but in her arms was a small bundle of cotton, and despite not having seen her for a month, the baby was all he could see.
Huan ran up and set his eyes on his brother for the first time. The baby was extremely small. Swaddled in blankets, he gurgled and whined as their mother bounced him. He had pink, soft skin, thick black hair, and big, button eyes.
“This is your baby brother,” his mother whispered, bringing Huan’s arms to hold the bundle. “Say hello.”
Huan held the baby tight and stared through watery vision, “Hello, baby.” He greeted, “What’s his name, mama?”
Madam Lan gazed at her two boys, more love in her eyes than she’d ever given Qingheng-Jun. The man couldn’t begrudge her for it. She hadn’t loved him before she killed his teacher, and locking her up hadn’t birthed love either.
But it had made this—their children.
Their suffering could be worth it for them.
“You tell me, A-Huan.” She smiled and pet his hair. The child gaped. Parents give children their names. His name had come from his uncle, yet they trusted him with such a significant matter?
Huan stared down at the baby in his arms, the brother he’d waited several long months to meet. It’s funny, he thought. How could he love someone he’d just met so fiercely?
The baby gurgled and reached up from his blue blankets with a tiny pink fist, his fingers grazing the cold metal of his big brother’s ribbon. Huan grinned, “ A-Zhan .”
Madam Lan smiled, “A-Zhan?”
Huan nodded, rocking his baby brother, “Hello, A-Zhan.” He whispered, “I’m your Huan-gege.”
Lan Zhan giggled as if pleased with his name.
***
Lan Zhan was born prematurely at eight months. He was a frail thing, too small and sickly, and a week after his birth, he took a turn for the worst.
He’d only spent a few nights in his shared room with his brother before he was rushed back to the healers to be under supervision and medical care, but Lan Huan still slipped away to sing his brother to sleep as he rocked him in his arms. It didn’t feel fair. Why was A-Zhan slipping away so soon after his birth? Lan Huan had waited so long for him.
Every night, he held his brother as he slept, terrified it would be the last time.
A-Zhan’s health had become especially bleak when Lan Huan overheard a conversation that would change everything.
“Qiren. Saving A-Zhan’s core will cripple his own. A-Huan will never reach his full potential.”
Huan knew eavesdropping was against the rules, but he couldn’t turn away. Could he help A-Zhan?
“As a fighter, maybe, but he can still be great. Besides, A-Huan is destined for leadership, and I’m sure he’d rather have his brother at his side.”
Huan wasn’t sure what exactly happened between his uncle and his brother. He was too young to know but not so young that he couldn’t sense the tension. Something in his uncle’s voice was too raw.
“If A-Huan donates his spiritual energy willingly, it’ll be relatively painless and won’t damage his core. If A-Huan does this, his core will never ascend to its full capacity, but if he doesn’t, A-Zhan won’t live to see Spring.”
Lan Huan finally managed to retreat, conflict whirling in his head. He returned to his place beside his brother's crib. A-Zhan coughed weakly, reaching a tiny hand for him through the bars. Could he save A-Zhan? It would cost him. He’d never become a legendary swordsman.
A-Zhan grabbed a fistful of his robes, gurgling as he tugged him closer, and as Lan Huan picked his brother up and cradled him close, he decided that, in hindsight, it wouldn’t cost him at all.
For A-Zhan, he’d do anything.
***
The birth of the Twin Jades quickly became a widespread story. Soon, everyone knew of A-Zhan’s fragile birth and A-Huan’s loving sacrifice.
The tale of the arrival of baby A-Zhan on the coldest, darkest night of the year. The instant love that bloomed when he was placed in his brother’s arms, his health’s tragic decline, and the brilliant sacrifice his older brother performed to save his life-- nearly at the cost of his own. Huan depleted himself of spiritual energy and fainted for the healers to find. When A-Zhan opened his eyes next, his chest heaving with life, they blazed gold like a sunset melting into the horizon.
The Twin Jades were famous cultivators despite their youth. Their birth story was told across the cultivation world—a model for how brothers should be.
Huan never regretted his decision; even as his core grew, paling compared to what it could have been, he never wavered.
It was A-Huan and A-Zhan against the world.
***
A-Huan became Xichen, and A-Zhan became Wangji, but they were still a team. Even when Lan Xichen met Nie Mingjue, his betrothed, his heart was still his A-Zhan’s. Nie Mingjue knew this, and he loved Lan Xichen more for it.
It wasn’t long until people learned not to slight Lan Wangji in his elder brother’s presence, especially after his ascension to Sect Leader. As Wangji grew up and grew further into himself, traumatised from their parent’s deaths, Xichen became increasingly protective, with a fierceness he didn’t even show in his leadership.
Lan Xichen was a brilliant Sect Leader. Gentle yet commanding, his influence swept through his people like a soft breeze through flower fields. Nobody could say he wasn’t devoted to his duty, but it was no secret that his leadership came second, and his brother came first.
He wasn’t the only brother to make a name for himself. Lan Wangji was renowned for his swordsmanship and impressive solidity. Whenever Xichen looked at him, he felt a wave of love and pride. He’d give the rest of his core if it meant his brother continued to flourish. However, his core couldn’t change Wangji’s loneliness.
All Wangji needed was his brother, and vice versa, but the lonely man his little brother was growing into ate at Xichen some nights. He didn’t like the idea of Wangji spending his life isolated, so when a boisterous, energetic disciple came to Cloud Recess and gazed at his brother like he hung the moon and stars, Xichen saw something that made his brother happy and jumped at the opportunity to meddle. If Wangji couldn’t tell Wei Wuxian he wanted him close, that was okay because Xichen could do it for him.
Wei Wuxian saw his brother in a light nobody else but Xichen could. He heard through his silence and reached a hand of understanding, perhaps not perfectly, but it was a start.
He would even come to Wangji’s defence.
Wen Xu stood, arms crossed, “I’m just here to escort people to your lecture.” He said haughtily, “Besides, my clan is always educating others. Surely, we don’t need your lessons.”
Lan Xichen smiled through gritted teeth. He knew better than to condemn this Wen, especially with the rising tension between their clans, but he couldn’t remain serene as his brother spoke.
“You have not abided by accurate procedure.” Wangji scolded, and Wen Xu faced him with fire in his eyes at the challenge.
“Why should I?” He scoffed, “You Lans think you’re better than us?”
Wangji didn’t deign to respond. To others, he looked indifferent, but Xichen could see the anger.
“I’m talking to you!” Wen Xu yelled, outraged at being ignored.
He could barely take a step. Cyan-blue robes swept between them, Lan Xichen moving like graceful waves washing up on shore and planting himself before his brother like a tree, “Wen-Gongzi.” He began, and this time, he didn’t bother concealing his displeasure, “My brother did not intend to slight you.”
Lan Qiren sighed. Xichen threw all caution to the wind when it came to Wangji.
“Is being ignored a compliment?!”
Lan Xichen squared his shoulders, firming his stance as a shield. It was almost funny to most. Nobody would’ve imagined Lan Wangji would need his elder brother’s protection.
“Wen-Gongzi. My brother is not impolite, just quiet.”
Wen Xu scoffed, “In Qishan, weakness like that gets beaten.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Lan Xichen’s usually placid expression hardened, like clay becoming stone, “Well, this isn’t Qishan .”
They shouldn’t be surprised that Lan Xichen’s fury, calm and gentle as his kindness, would still waft through the room undeniably commanding. It was perhaps worse than if he was shouting. It wasn’t a threat; Lans are too civilised for that, but it was a warning, and the warning was clear. Thus, Wen Xu backed off.
Lan Wangji finally stepped in, “Xiongzhang.”
And just like that, Lan Xichen’s face returned to the friendly Sect Leader they knew, instantly mollified by his little brother.
“Wen-Gongzi,” Wei Wuxian had his hands on his hips like a sassy maiden, “You come to the Lan Sect and then argue with Lan Zhan. What’s your goal?”
Oh yes. Lan Xichen liked him very much.
He managed to control the situation, and Wen Xu left Cloud Recess while Wei Wuxian continued to chase his brother around. This greatly amused Lan Xichen, and as he sat in the Jingshi, filing through paperwork after having brought Wangji dinner, he was quite pleased to watch him create what he would soon realise was a love song.
“That sounds lovely, Wangji.” He smiled as his brother, hair down and night robes on, combed his fingers over the strings of his Guqin.
Wangji’s ears burned red, “Thank you, Xiongzhang.”
“Do you know what it’s about?” He asked, chuckling.
Wangji glowered. He could tell his brother was teasing him, but he couldn’t understand what he was teasing him about. “No.”
Lan Xichen grinned. Once his paperwork was done, he bid his brother farewell and sweet dreams. His own were hazy. The uneasy air around the clans followed him like a dark cloud, reminding him of the coming storm.
He tried to keep his brother out of it, but Wangji knew him too well. He didn’t say anything, but if Lan Xichen noticed a significant decrease in the stack of paperwork on his desk and a tray of hot food beside it every night, he only felt fond.
His attempts to keep his brother unknowing, though, were tarnished. A few days later, Wangji was punished for drinking. Lan Xichen had nearly laughed when the disciple told him, but when he realised the disciple was serious, he practically leapt from his seat and marched across Cloud Recess.
Wangji was kneeling, awaiting punishment, while Wei Wuxian tried to argue for him, much in vain, as their uncle's grudge against his mother seemed to descend on the son. Lan Xichen placed himself between his brother and the discipline paddle, fixing their uncle with a stern look. “Shufu,” he greeted. This has to be a mistake.”
He felt a small tug on his robes and looked down, surprised to see guilt on his brother's face. More guilt than he’d feel if he broke the rules unwillingly, like Wei Wuxian said. No, Wangji had done it on purpose. Lan Xichen quirked an eyebrow and filed it away for teasing material later.
He faced Lan Qiren again, shoulders squared, “Three hundred strikes is too harsh.” He argued. Lan Qiren looked like he wanted to beat him around the head, but instead of losing face in front of the sect heirs, he scoffed and agreed. If he didn’t, Xichen might’ve used his rank to overrule him, which would only be even more shameful.
“Two hundred.” He declared, and Lan Xichen bit back another protest. He stood beside their uncle, fists clenched, and forced himself to watch his brother be beaten, counting each one until the last.
At one hundred ninety-five, Lan Xichen raised his hand, “That was two hundred.” He stopped the punishment, and Lan Qiren just sighed instead of arguing. He stormed away in a flurry of blue as Lan Xichen helped his brother stand, “Wangji, you should go to the Cold Springs.”
Wangji hummed and bowed low, even as his brother tried to stop him, and walked away.
He did not return that day.
***
Lan Qiren pinched between his brows. His sect was in chaos, and the leader was unravelling.
“Xichen,” he clamped a hand on his eldest nephew's shoulder. “Wangji is capable. He will come back to us safe.”
His own worry curdled in his stomach. His youngest nephew had been missing for a whole day, and Lan Qiren struggled to hide his fear for him, but he knew he had to. His own fright would be gasoline to Xichen’s, and in these wary times, Xichen could not afford to lose it.
“What if he’s hurt?”
“Then we will care for him when he returns.” It had to be when . Xichen could never function under an if.
Much to the sect’s relief, Wangji returned in the early afternoon, frost tense in his shoulders and water dripping from his hair, wavy from the spring water. His robes were soaked through; had he been a lesser cultivator, he’d have been shivering. Nonetheless, Xichen stripped off his outer layer and draped it around his brother’s shoulders. “Where were you?” he asked as they entered the Jingshi. “There wasn’t a trace of you anywhere.”
Wangji let Xichen fuss, guilty over having worried him. “The Cold Springs,” he answered, moving behind his privacy screen to where his bath was. Xichen ordered him to take one, warmed the water with a talisman, and sat at the table with his uncle while Wangji scrubbed the cold from his skin. “Wei Ying and I were dragged into a cave in the water.” He explained the events of the day.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. Though he seems fine, Wei Ying suffered an attack from the guqin.”
“We’ll check on him when we meet again after this.”
Lan Qiren sputtered, “We’re involving him?”
Lan Xichen winced, “He’s already involved.”
Lan Qiren’s face reddened, displeased at the thought of being around Wei Wuxian any more than he’d already suffered, but Lan Xichen took no notice. He was thankful Wangji had not been alone when he found the Yin Iron. However, his own displeasure roused. Why did it have to be his brother captured in the Cold Springs?
When Wangji was dressed again, Lan Xichen guided him to the Hanshi, a hand hovering over his back. If they stood closer than usual, Wangji didn’t mention it. His older brother had been shaking when he returned, and he wasn’t the one who’d been in an ice cave.
Outside the Hanshi, Wei Wuxian stood waiting. His robes were a little messier, and his hair was curly with tangles. He waved enthusiastically at Wangji, who didn’t reciprocate. However, there was something softer in his eyes as he looked at Wei Wuxian.
“Come in, Wei-Gongzi.” They piled into Lan Xichen’s home. The sect leader placed a talisman for privacy: “Please, recount what happened.”
Wei Wuxian’s hands waved animatedly as he explained while Wangji stood with a statue-like stillness. Lan Xichen bit his tongue to prevent chuckling as Wei Wuxian raved about Lan Yi and Boshan Sanren. Maybe Lan Xichen could convince Uncle to tell Wei Wuxian more about Cangse Sanren.
Liebing’s voice soothed the chamber, settling the Yin Iron’s rumbles. Blue wisps curled around her, extending to the Yin Iron until the metal was lured into a pouch.
Lan Qiren stroked his beard, “I feared this would come up one day.”
Lan Wangji blinked. “Shufu.” He looked between them. “Xiongzhang, did you already know of this?”
Lan Xichen swallowed his guilt, “Since Master Lan Yi broke the rules, the Lan Clan forbade people from entering the back hill.” He explained, “They are afraid the grievance of the Yin Iron may affect the people. Thus, in the Five Families, only masters of the Lan Clan know what happened to the Yin Iron and will impart it to the next generation.”
Wei Wuxian perked up, “That’s why the spirit snatching happened, and the Aqua Demon appeared!” He excitedly thrust Subian forward, “Zewu-Jun, you already knew they may be connected to the Yin Iron.”
“Young-Master-Wei is smart. Your conjecture when we were at Biling Lake was essentially right,” Lan Xichen said, and Wei Wuxian smiled under the praise. “Wangji, when you came to ask me about it, I could not tell you the answer.”
Wei Wuxian bumped Wangji’s shoulder, “My confidant.”
Despite their uncle’s exasperation, Lan Xichen chuckled. Wangji looked quite content.
“Now that things have escalated in the Wen clan, Shufu thought they may be connected to the Yin Iron, so he asked me to check the enchantment. I found it was disturbed.” Lan Xichen continued, “Shufu then went to Qinghe to discuss this with A-Jue, but it didn’t occur to me someone would discover our Yin Iron so soon.”
A squawking cut off any further conversation. They rushed to the doorway to see the Wen Clan’s proud Dire Owl flying over Cloud Recess, boldly skimming the ward like a pebble over a pond. Wei Wuxian scowled, “It’s the Wen Clan again.”
Wangji gripped Bichen tighter and made a move, but Lan Xichen clutched his arm. “Don’t chase it,” he said.
Wangji pressed his lips together unhappily, “It seems the Wen Clan really did come here for our Yin Iron.”
Wei Wuxian crossed his arms, “Master Lan Yi said that the shards of the Yin Iron started to reactivate in the recent decade because of the appearance of the other pieces.”
Lan Xichen sighed gravely, “Our prediction is right. Wen Ruohan owned a shard of the Yin Iron. Another shard is in Cloud Recess, so he sent people to acquire it.”
“How did Wen Ruohan know that Gusu has one piece?” Wangji asked.
“The Yin Iron represses the whole world, yet one hundred years have passed, and no one knows where it is.” Lan Qiren stroked his bear, “But since Wen Ruohan was able to get one shard of the Yin Iron, he must have received help from someone.”
“Master Lan Yi said that the pieces of the Yin Iron can feel each other. Since we have one, why not use it to find the others?” Wangji looked impressed with Wei Wuxian’s idea.
“Shufu, Xiongzhang, what shall we do now?”
“When the Yin Iron appears and falls into the hands of evil people, disasters will be brought. We can only seal it, put it back in the Cold Pond Cave, and set up the enchantment again; no one can get near it.” Lan Qiren answered.
Wangji looked unsatisfied, “Shufu, Wen Ruohan already has a Yin Iron shard. Shards have connections. Even if we put it back into the Cold Pond Cave, it won’t change a thing.”
Wei Wuxian nodded in agreement, “Besides, Wen Ruohan desires the Yin Iron. I’m afraid you can't hide it from him.”
Lan Qiren shook his head, “Let’s discuss it later.”
Wangji frowned, “Shufu-”
“Don’t mention it again.” Their uncle cut him off, “This is a secret of the gentry houses.”
Wei Wuxian lifted his hand into three fingers, “Grandmaster, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
Lan Qiren nodded stuffily while Lan Xichen chuckled fondly at the young boy’s enthusiasm, “Thank you, Wei-Gongzi. Now, do go and rest up for the lantern ceremony later.”
Wei Wuxian perked up at the reminder of the ceremony, “Ah, Lan Zhan! Let’s make lanterns together.”
Wangji hummed, and side by side, they left, arms brushing together and a lack of distance between them that Lan Xichen hadn’t seen before. His chest stirred with warmth. Maybe Wangji wouldn’t be so alone after all.
***
“That Wei Wuxian…” His uncle stroked his beard, the two watching on as Wangji and Wei Wuxian crafted lanterns together, “Don’t you think we should discourage this?”
Xichen sighed. So, his uncle wasn’t as blind to the growing affection between the two as Xichen had hoped. He shook his head, “I don’t think we should. Shufu, you had grievances with Cangse Sanren, but Wei-Gongzi isn’t her. Besides.” He nodded toward the boys in time for his uncle to witness a soft smile bloom on Wangji’s lips, the tips of his ears pink like cherry blossom petals, “Wei-Gongzi makes him smile.”
He was relieved when he saw acceptance slump Lan Qiren’s shoulders. The man sighed deeply but couldn’t protest in the face of his youngest nephew’s happiness. Wangji, usually so withdrawn, was smiling . When had he last seen him so content?
“Wangji’s feelings,” Lan Qiren paused, complex emotions stirring inside him, “They run deep?”
He’d lost his brother to love. Never had he imagined losing his nephews the same way, of course, but he’d always had fear whispering in the back of his mind. He’d not worried about Wangji, but Xichen had quickly found his person. Nie Mingjue, a fellow sect leader, no less. He feared losing Xichen to the Nie, but this fear for Wangji was new.
Xichen smiled placatingly, “I believe so.”
Lan Qiren let out another deep and heavy sigh, “And Wei Wuxian?”
Xichen shook his head. “I know he cares for Wangji, but I don’t know him well enough to speculate if he returns the same feelings.”
A Lan will only love once. Lan Qiren, despite his grievances, surprises himself, wishing Wei Wuxian to return Wangji’s feelings.
Days later, Wei Wuxian is being sent home, and Wangji finds Xichen in light blue robes before midday, Bichen at his side, “Xiongzhang.”
Lan Xichen feels heavy as if Wangji’s burden is upon his shoulders. He had fought tooth and nail with their uncle not to send Wangji off with the Yin Iron but ultimately lost. Wangji was no longer a child but a strong cultivator and the Second-Young-Master. This expedition was his job, not Xichen’s or Lan Qiren’s, but Xichen was displeased nonetheless.
You cannot protect him forever, Xichen. His uncle had said.
Wangji instantly saw the discontentment on Xichen’s face, his own softening just a bit, “Xiongzhang.” He bowed, squaring his shoulders, meeting Xichen’s eyes at eye level. It hit Xichen hard . Once, Wangji had been a little boy who clung to his robes and hid behind Xichen; then, all too soon, he let go of his dada’s hand and said I can do it, Xiongzhang.
His little brother was all grown up.
“Wangji,” He took his hand and appreciated that Wangji didn’t shy away, “You’ll be safe?”
“Mn.”
“You’ve got everything you need?”
“Mn.”
“Right. Are you sure you don’t want to bring some disciples?”
“It has to be discreet, Xiongzhang.”
Xichen nodded, “You’re right.”
Wangji sighed empathically, “Xiongzhang, I will be okay.” He said, “One day, you must let me go and trust that I will be okay.”
Xichen swallowed the growing wad in his throat and nodded, realising his brother’s hand, “You’re so smart, Wangji.” He clenched a fist behind his back, his nails digging crescents into his palm that grounded him, “Be safe.”
Wangji bowed, “Mn.” He hummed and, with a final look, turned heel and walked away. Xichen stared at the blue figure until it was gone, then closed his eyes, pushing back the stinging tears, and yearned for the moment they’d be together again.
***
Wangji hadn’t returned.
Cloud Recess was burning.
Xichen had to flee.
He ran, arms full of precious ancient texts. He had to protect the Lan sect’s legacy and its knowledge, but every step away from the ashes of his home felt wrong. He had to keep going, though. He had to get to Qinghe, where Wangji was, and find A-Jue-
“Lan-zongzhu?”
Lan Xichen panted as he stopped. His body shook with tremors, and he could hear the Wen’s shouts following him, closing in, but this was not a Wen. “Meng Yao?” He nearly sobbed in relief. Had A-Jue sent him? Was he here?
Then he remembered his betrothed’s last letter, where he’d vented about losing his best servant. He had not been specific on why he banished Meng Yao, but Lan Xichen knew he wouldn’t have done it lightly, not to mention the grey, high-end robes. Despite their colours, they were not Nie clothes, “Lan-zongzhu, I came here to help you.” Meng Yao showed a harmless, placating smile, “I came with the Wens, but I’m not in allegiance with them-- not truly!”
Lan Xichen stepped back, the books held protectively to his chest, “You joined the Wens?”
“Yes,” Meng Yao hung his head, “But I’m not loyal to them. I’ll explain it all, but we can’t stay here. You were kind to me once. Let me return the favour.”
The shouts were getting louder, and the soldiers hunting him down were growing nearer. Lan Xichen narrowed his eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Meng Yao pleaded, “Lan-zongzhu-”
“A-Jue kicked you out for a reason.” Lan Xichen took another step back. Meng Yao seemed sincere, but he could not honestly know.
“You can trust me,” Meng Yao insisted, patting himself down. “I’m not armed, and even if I were, I would not be a match for you.”
It was true, but it did nothing to soothe Lan Xichen’s fears, “Let’s go to Qinghe then. I need to find Wangji.”
Meng Yao paused, eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement, “Lan-zongzhu, is Lan-er-gongzi not in Cloud Recess?”
Lan Xichen’s heart skipped a beat, “Wangji is not in Qinghe?” He questioned urgently.
Meng Yao hesitated, “No- he left days ago. I assumed he was in Cloud Recess-”
Lan Xichen’s grip on the books loosened, his own danger forgotten in favour of his brother’s. Wangji should have been home by now; the only reason he’d have been delayed is if he had been interrupted on the roads. “Oh no…” Lan Xichen shuddered, turning back to the rising amber flames.
“Lan-zongzhu-”
Lan Xichen shoved the books into his arms, a new resolve set on his features, “If you’re loyal like you say, then take these books to A-Jue.”
Meng Yao gaped, “Lan-zongzhu, I can’t be gone that long! I can only help you!”
“I don’t need help.” Lan Xichen unsheathed his sword, “Hide the books then. I must find Wangji.”
Seemingly realising his plan, Meng Yao shook his head desperately, “Lan-zongzhu, you can’t go back there!”
Lan Xichen didn’t heed his words. Instead, he took a stance on the sword and lifted himself into the air, “I must.”
He flew back into the smoke with no regard for the pleas for his return. Hovering over his home, Lan Xichen felt choked as he saw the devastation. White bodies covered the grounds, and the beautiful buildings succumbed to the flames. He could barely recognise his own home.
He carried himself across Cloud Recess, using the bodies like a path until he found what he sought. The Wens stood in the hundreds outside the Cold Pond Cave, and only one Lan stood opposing them.
Lan Xichen nearly fell off his sword.
Oh god . He thought, staring at the familiar blue robes. Please no.
“Lan Xichen has returned!” Wen Xu cheered, standing behind Wangji, sword to his throat, who was forced to kneel. As he landed, Lan Xichen realised one of his legs was bent at the wrong angle, and he swallowed nausea.
“Xiongzhang…” Wangji whispered. Xichen could hear everything he wanted to say. Why did you come back? Why aren’t you running?
Xichen almost smiled. As if he could ever leave Wangji behind.
“Quiet.” Wen Xu grabbed a fistful of Wangji’s hair and pulled tight, the movement drawing a grunt and blood from his sword. Blood trickled down, and for a terrible moment, Lan Xichen thought he’d continue the drag of his sword on Wangji’s throat, but by some miracle, he didn’t.
“Let him go.” Lan Xichen ordered, his sword raised, unshaken despite his thundering heart, despite the dozens of blades pointed at him, “He is of no use to you!”
Wen Xu snickered bitterly, “You can’t fool me.” He said, “I have seen first-hand your devotion to him. Even now! You risk yourself and the future of your sect to try and save him.”
If Lan Xichen were anyone else, he would’ve cursed. He had played with an open hand of cards his whole life. He made it obvious what his brother meant to him and what he’d sacrifice to keep him safe. They were entirely at Wen Xu’s mercy so long as he held a blade to Wangji’s neck, and he knew it.
“You can have the Yin Iron. Just let him go.” Lan Xichen pleaded, but Wen Xu scoffed.
“We’ll get the Yin Iron either way!” He yelled, pulling Wangji’s hair tighter every time he struggled. Bichen had been kicked away from him. He was injured and utterly defenceless.
Lan Xichen felt desperate tears start to claw their way up his throat. Was he about to see his brother murdered?
“Take me instead.” He begged, lowering Shuoyue.
Wangji gasped, “Xiongzhang. Don’t!”
“Wangji. Quiet.” Xichen hissed, staring at the crimson that was starting to stain Wangji’s snowy collar.
Wen Xu grinned gleefully. He enjoyed every second of this, of making the sect leader who once scolded him for attacking his brother now powerless in the face of it, “With all due respect, Zewu-Jun. You would be useless to us.” He looked down at the younger jade, “Lan Wangji is respected, but he’s hardly a sect leader. If he asked to stop an assault not to put you at risk, nobody would listen to him, but they’ll listen to you.”
It was a flimsy explanation. This was Wen Xu’s personal vendetta, and Lan Xichen knew it.
“Please!” He begged unlike the sect leader he was, “Let him go!”
“Sorry, Lan-zongzhu! No can do!” Wen Xu gestured at his disciples, and they closed in on Lan Xichen like predators to their feed, “Maybe one day we’ll send him back to you, in pieces, of course.”
The Wens laughed as if it were a hilarious joke, as if Lan Xichen’s whole world wasn’t falling apart in front of him. Wen Xu turned to the last Lan disciple, cowering on the floor and nodded, “Thank you for your information.”
Lan Xichen saw Su She close his eyes in shame and put the pieces together, but he could deal with that later. “Please.” He trembled.
“ Xiongzhang! ”
Something hard hit his head, and another hit sent him to his knees, and another to the floor. The world rippled, sounds coming in blips and phases as if he were drowning, and when he eventually came back to himself, his head was held in his uncle’s lap, “Xichen.” Lan Qiren spoke gravely. He’d, of course, heard everything.
Xichen couldn’t stop the broken tears. He sat up and clutched his chest as if feeling his own heart shatter inside it, “Shufu,” he whispered, choked, “They took Wangji.”
The remaining disciples who had come out with Lan Qiren shared their own expressions of devastation. Lan Xichen looked among them and felt like a failure.
It was then he saw Su She.
Rage ignited inside of him. It burned hot. It was loud and rageful and heartbroken, “You!” He pointed, and Su She cowered like nobody ever had in Lan Xichen’s presence, “If you had been loyal to the sect that raised you, Wangji would not have had to come out! He wouldn’t have…”
He closed his eyes, hot tears slipping out, “Turn in your belongings and get out. You are no longer a member of Gusu Lan! If you are ever seen on our grounds again, the consequences will be dire!”
“Lan-zongzhu!” Su She pleaded, but at the mercy of Lan Xichen’s rage, there was nothing he could say to save himself.
“Now!”
Su She scrambled away, but Lan Xichen felt no better. His despair wasn’t lessened. Nothing he could do would ease it. Nothing mattered. His little brother was gone. Wangji was gone. He was a hostage among wolves, and there was nothing Lan Xichen could do to save him.
Lan Xichen closed his eyes and cried.