Chapter Text
It began like this; Wei Ying, as he so often did these days, had found a new topic of interest. Time travel was an impossible concept to many, and yet, to Lan Wangji’s husband, attempting the impossible was just an everyday occurrence; and of course, if anyone was going to create a talisman capable of taking someone to the past, it would be Wei Ying.
The talisman was still in its early days though, and there was still so much they didn’t know about it. Lan Wangji had repeatedly cautioned his husband, reminding him that time travel was a dangerous thing to be playing around with; they simply didn’t know enough about it, or what the effects on the timeline would be. They had no idea if it could potentially change their own timeline, or simply cause another one to diverge.
Wei Ying had promised to be careful, his voice earnest and sincere, and Lan Wangji had believed him. Wei Ying didn’t take unnecessary risks these days, knowing that it could reflect badly on his husband, or make Lan Wangji worry about him.
In the end, despite Lan Wangji’s concerns, it wasn’t Wei Ying who had ended up traveling to the past. In his defense, activating the talisman had been a complete accident, but that didn’t do much for his frustration when he found himself back in the body of his younger self, years in the past.
(Wei Ying would be interested to learn about that; he hadn’t been quite sure how the time travel would actually take place).
Lan Wangji knew that the effects of the talisman were only temporary from what Wei Ying had told him. That wasn’t his concern. He needed to be careful, and not give anyone any reason to doubt his identity.
He would need to make sure that no one suspected anything was different, and he would need to stay as close to the events of this time period as he could.
…
Keeping up the facade of being his younger self would be easy. Of course Lan Wangji was aware that there were differences in their personalities and temperament, but they would be minor to most people. He would just have to be careful not to spend too much time around the people who knew him best; he was sure he could avoid his uncle and brother for the next few days.
Wei Ying would be…difficult. Lan Wangji was aware that he still had to oversee his punishment in the library, and the thought of not holding his husband close, stroking his hair, pulling him onto his lap, was…not pleasant. Even less so, the thought of having to be outwardly dismissive, even cold towards him, because he remembered how his younger self had acted towards Wei Ying, and he hated it.
Wei Ying deserved to be adored and indulged, and if Lan Wangji wanted to maintain any semblance of a believable act, he absolutely could not do that.
Well. He wouldn’t be overly rude, because he could never bring himself to do that, but if he remained silent and seemingly aloof, that would be enough.
(Later, as Wei Wuxian chatted away, spending more time talking than actually copying down any of the rules, and Lan Wangji silently waxed poetry about his beauty in his head, Wei Wuxian wondered why Er-gege actually seemed to be listening to him today. And why he hadn’t silenced him yet, or told him to shut up. Truly, the peerless Second Jade of Lan was a mystery to be unwoven).
…
Lan Wangji thought he was doing a wonderful job so far. The rules spoke against being too prideful, but Lan Wangji thought he had some right to do so after the turmoil he had experienced in not spoiling his husband.
It was truly hard. Wei Ying, in his own body nonetheless, looking bright, and cheerful, and beautiful, and cute. So, so cute. No one knew just how difficult it was for Lan Wangji not to drag him off to Caiyi Town and buy him whatever he desired.
While Wei Wuxian served his punishment in the library pavilion, Lan Wangji watched over him calmly, trying to appear stern and unmoving, while inwardly marvelling at the sight of his husband in his original body.
When they were outside of class, or in class, and Wei Wuxian would run up to him with a teasing smile, and a loud, “Lan Zhan!”, Lan Wangji would pretend to be as aloof as ever. Holding back a smile was harder than he’d ever imagine it being, but he persevered. He’d experienced far greater hardships in his life, and a few days resisting his husband was far from the worst of them.
“Would you stop annoying Lan Wangji?” Jiang Wanyin grumbled. “He clearly hates you, and you’re just going to get in more trouble if you keep doing this.”
‘From the man who has never been, and will never be, in a relationship himself,’ Lan Wangji thought uncharitably.
“Lan Zhan doesn’t hate me!” Wei Wuxian protested, laughing carelessly.
‘That is correct,’ Lan Wangji thought, pleased. He then turned away when he became aware that Jiang Wanyin was shooting confused glances in his direction, and he realised that he’d been staring at them for a bit too long.
…
Lan Wangji was doing a fine job at emulating his younger self; however, even he would have to be an exemplary actor in order to fool his brother.
He had tried avoiding the other man, but Lan Xichen could be very persistent when he wanted to be, and Lan Wangji had maybe been a bit too complacent during his time here.
“Wangji, have you been well?” Lan Xichen asked, smiling gently. Lan Wangji felt his chest clench slightly at the sight of his brother, free of the burdens of the future.
“I am well, Brother,” he assured him.
“I’ve noticed you seem to have your eye on Young Master Wei a fair amount recently.”
Lan Wangji stiffened slightly. Surely he hadn’t been too obvious about that; a few glances here and there, because how could he possibly look away from that radiant smile, and those beautiful eyes completely — he was still human — but he’d restrained himself from acting in a way that would draw any suspicions.
“I have not been staring at Wei Y — Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji said at last.
Lan Xichen raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure he liked the gift you bought for him.”
Lan Wangji stared, bewildered. What gift? He had very resolutely talked himself out of buying the beautiful comb with black and red embellishments that he’d seen in the marketplace the other day, because he’d decided that it wasn’t something the Lan Wangji of this timeline would do.
“The spices?”
Lan Wangji stiffened. Oh. Yes, the reason he had visited Caiyi Town in the first place, although he would hardly consider that a gift. It was a…necessary purchase. Wei Ying hadn’t been eating properly, miserably poking at the plain congee at breakfast the other day, and moaning about how he couldn’t possibly eat something so bland, and wasn’t that a fair complaint? His beloved had been raised in Yunmeng, was used to spices that would practically burn a hole in anyone else’s tongue.
Perhaps Lan Wangji had made a trip to Caiyi Town, purchased enough spices to last for the rest of Wei Ying’s time at the Cloud Recesses (spices that he was very accustomed to buying for his own husband, so much so that he could have selected them with his eyes closed), and had taken them back to the kitchen staff, and requested that they use them in all of Wei Wuxian’s meals.
Perhaps he had been a little too willfully ignorant about how strange this was for him — but what was his other option? Allow Wei Ying to continue to suffer through his mealtimes in discomfort?
Lan Wangji had perhaps been silent for a bit too long. Lan Xichen smiled knowingly, and pat him on the shoulder.
Lan Wangji sighed inaudibly. Well, it wasn’t as if his brother hadn’t been aware of his infatuation with Wei Ying, even at this point.
…
Things continued fairly normally for the rest of the day. Lan Wangji went to bed that night, and tried to ignore the strangeness of being alone in the Jingshi, without his husband's things scattered haphazardly, without Wei Ying curled up beside him in bed, and reminded himself that he would be home soon.
He woke up the next morning, got dressed, walked to class, and prepared himself for another fairly standard day. He’d forgotten the monotony of life as a student, before Wei Ying had become a permanent fixture, before his son had entered his life. He was feeling strangely melancholy as he made his way down the hallway, just as Jin Zixuan was sent sprawling to the floor with a loud yell.
Wei Wuxian stood over him, his face red with outrage, and Lan Wangji —
Lan Wangji felt a wave of exhaustion. Of all days, this was happening now?
He could hardly intervene, even as if saw his Uncle striding forward, his expression almost apocalyptic. He couldn’t argue, because he didn’t know the effects of changing the timeline too greatly, and this was a significant event — not on par with the things Wei Ying would later experience, but it had cut his time in the Cloud Recesses down significantly, and Lan Wangji could not interfere.
Uncle was lecturing Wei Ying, his voice furious, his face red. Wei Ying was arguing back, because of course he was, perfect, stubborn Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji should walk away right now, and let things follow the course that they were supposed to —
He started striding forward, even before his mind had finished with its protests.
“Uncle,” he said, coming to a stop beside Wei Ying.
“Wangji,” Lan Qiren said, sounding almost relieved. “Did you witness what happened here?”
Wei Ying averted his gaze, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. Jiang Wanyin looked apprehensive. Jin Zixuan was staring furiously at Wei Ying.
That did it.
“Yes Uncle,” Lan Wangji said.
…
After explaining in detail to Lan Qiren exactly what had happened — about how, yes, Wei Wuxian should not have reacted in such a physical manner, but he had been provoked, with Young Master Jin insulting Wei Wuxian’s sister, and speaking of another person in such a discourteous manner — his uncle had decided that both Wei Ying and Jin Zixuan would receive strikes with the discipline ruler for their transgressions.
Wei Ying was not to be sent home early this time around. Lan Wangji acknowledged this with a fair amount of panic as he walked away from the scene, where he had amassed a considerable crowd — apparently the Second Master Lan defending the supposed bane of his existence came as a great shock to many people, if Jiang Wanyin’s unhinged jaw was anything to go by.
He had more pressing concerns to deal with now. Wei Ying wasn’t going home, which meant that Wei Ying would be spending the rest of the year here; a true dream in the mind of his younger self, and his own, but that didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t supposed to happen.
He supposed he could find some other way to send Wei Ying home, but even the mere thought made him bristle. He would not see Wei Ying punished unfairly, and these days, ‘unfairly’ seemed to have a rather broad spectrum.
“Lan Zhan!” Lan Wangji turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. He doubted anyone would be able to see the sheer adoration in his eyes, but there was no point risking it.
“Thank you for sticking up for me, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying said, and suddenly he was far too close, a sweet smile on his face — the one he always gave Lan Wangji when he was most happiest and content — his eyes sparkling, and his cheeks ever-so-slightly flushed, and Lan Wangji felt the tips of his ears turn red.
“Mn,” he said, suddenly grateful for his limited word inventory. He then hurried away in the other direction.
He missed his husband so, so much.
He was also suddenly acutely aware that this was the longest he had been without his everyday in a long while.
…
He decided to make his way to the cold springs a few moments later.
…
He was meditating in the cold springs, trying to clear his mind, and may have drifted off slightly. He was in the midst of a lovely dream about the last time he had seen his husband, rumpled, flushed and smiling in their bed, when there was a loud splash, and, a moment later, a cooing voice in his ear.
“Oh Er-gege,” a familiar voice giggled. “Did you really fall asleep in here? It’s so cold — ”
Lan Wangji’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled slightly. He missed the way Wei Ying’s eyes widened in shock, lost in those pools of silver, and without even thinking, he leant forward and gave his husband a tender kiss on the forehead, wrapping his arms around him.
Wei Ying let out a startled noise, reminiscent of that time A-Yuan had accidentally stepped on a bunny's’s tail when he was younger, and Lan Wangji’s eyes flew open as he remembered that this wasn’t his husband.
Feeling nothing but alarm, and thinking, ‘This was not supposed to happen,’ Lan Wangji shoved him away. Apparently he’d put a little too much strength into that, because Wei Ying was sent careening into the opposite end of the cold spring, slamming against the edge.
All at once, that feeling of panic was replaced by one of concern, as he rushed over to Wei Ying.
“Wei Ying!” he said, alarmed. “Are you alright?”
“You kissed my forehead,” Wei Ying said, sounding slightly dazed. “And you called me Wei Ying. And threw me into a wall.”
“Did you hit your head?” Lan Wangji fretted, turning him around by the shoulders to check his back and head. Wei Ying looked fine; his back looked very red, although that had more to do with the strikes he’d received from the discipline ruler.
It took him a moment too long to realise Wei Ying’s state of undress, and Wei Ying let out a dazed sigh.
Lan Wangji let go, and backed away.
He remembered his lectures to his husband on being careful with time travel, and the dangers of potentially changing things, and bit back a sigh. He would make sure to do additional handstands tonight.
Wei Ying had looked dazed, his hand pressed against his forehead, his cheeks pink. Lan Wangji breathed through his nose. He’d copy out the rules too.
…
He walked Wei Ying back to his room.
“Get some rest,” he told Wei Ying gently. Wei Ying looked slightly starry eyed as he nodded his head.
Lan Wangji was intending to make his way back to his room, but then remembered that Wei Ying had currently undergone quite a shock. Perhaps it had only been a forehead kiss, but considering how innocent and oblivious the Wei Wuxian of this time period was, Lan Wangji might as well have tried to ravish him.
After a moment of indecision, he turned, and made his way to the kitchen. Wei Ying must be hungry.
The Lan Wangji of this timeline would not cook a full feast for his supposedly unrequited love, while the rest of the kitchen staff looked on in shock, but then, he had evidently already ruined this timeline today.
He carried two trays laden with food to Wei Ying’s room.
“What,” Wei Ying said, when Lan Wangji entered his room after knocking politely on the door. “Uh — Lan Zhan, it’s a bit early for dinner, isn’t it? Also, I think you have the wrong room…”
“Eat,” Lan Wangji said, placing some of Wei Ying’s favourites in a bowl, and passing them over.
Wei Ying gaped at him. Wordlessly, he put some of the food in his mouth, and stared chewing. “Oh wow,” he said, in between mouthfuls. “This is actually really good! I didn’t even know they cooked this kind of food here.”
“They don’t,” Lan Wangji replied. “I made it.”
Wei Ying nearly dropped his bowl.
Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying, not even bothering to hide his interest. Wei Ying seemed oddly shy, peaking up through his lashes, and then quickly glancing down at his food again. It was utterly adorable.
“Aren’t you going to have any, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked, staring at him with wide eyes.
Lan Wangji didn’t want any. He didn’t think anyone but Wei Ying would want any of this; the food felt akin to setting fire to his own mouth.
Lan Wangji gave him a curt nod, and placed a mouthful of the red coloured monstrosity in his mouth. Years of practice allowed him to maintain a carefully blank face as he chewed.
“It’s good,” he told Wei Ying, who beamed in response. He supposed his younger self would have to forgive him for any mouth ulcers or burns he might feel when he returned to his body.
“You know, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, his head rested against his palm, “You’re acting so different today! Cooking for me, and, uh — ” He flushed slightly pink, and hurried onwards, “ the cold springs — and then pushing me a way like that. Is this a huge prank? Are you pranking me? And if you are, should I be offended or proud?” Wei Ying tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully.
Lan Wangji, acutely aware that he had well and truly tampered with the original timeline of events, and also aware that he only had a limited amount of time here, honestly didn’t know what to say to that.
“That is for you to figure out,” Lan Wangji said at last, for lack of anything better to say. He met Wei Ying’s gaze with his own.
Wei Ying let out another squeaking noise, similar to the one he’d made at the cold springs, and ducked his head down quickly.
…
After a pleasant afternoon spent with Wei Ying, listening to him as he rambled on, changing topics frequently, and looking and sounding like the most lovely thing he had ever seen, Lan Wangji made his way back to his room with the resigned sense of someone who knew how badly they had screwed something up, and knew that there was truly nothing they could do to fix it.
He sat down at his desk in the Jingshi, and proceeded to write a very long, detailed letter to his younger self. He began by explaining who he was, and why Wei Ying would be under the impression that Lan Wangji had kissed him (on the forehead, he wrote, so that his younger self wouldn’t mentally implode before he even finished reading the letter); and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, Lan Wangij reasoned that he really didn’t know how much had already changed because of his actions. After all, even the slightest changes could have far-reaching consequences.
His mind made up, Lan Wangji proceeded to write down everything he remembered from the Sunshot Campaign and what came after.
‘Be very clear when telling Wei Ying about your feelings,’ Lan Wangji added, giving it its own seperate paragraph, because this part was important. ‘You must be very careful about what you say. Plan your words beforehand. Perhaps ask Brother to help you script them.’
After all, his love was beautiful, and talented, and smart, and absolutely perfect, but he was also a tad oblivious, and had a ridiculously low self-esteem.
He thought for a moment, and then quickly drafted out two letters to his uncle and brother; his younger self may be capable, but he was still a child, and Lan Wangji didn’t want to place too much pressure on his shoulders.
He looked down at his work with satisfaction. If things were going to change here, then he might as well give them the necessary resources to change things for the better.
He could only hope that his own timeline was still intact, or he would have a lot to explain.
…
When the time travel talisman finally took him home, his husband greeted him with a beaming smile. Lan Wangji pulled him close, giving him a long kiss, and then proceeded to kiss every inch of his face.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying giggled, his eyes bright. Lan Wangji had missed him so much.
It turned out nothing had changed in their own timeline, which proved one of Wei Ying’s many theories - the time travel had simply caused another timeline to diverge. Wei Ying listened on in wide-eyed interest, quickly taking notes as Lan Wangji detailed his experience in the past, while Lan Wangji stroked his hair with gentle motions.
He could only hope they’d manage to heed his advice in the other timeline. And that, perhaps, his and Wei Ying’s younger selves could have their happy ending a bit sooner.