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Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian had always been the smarter of the two brothers, even before Jiang Yanli sat him down one sunny day to watch from the porch as Jiang Cheng tried and failed to lift his gangly body off the ground, bellowing and cursing the dragon king bitterly.

“A-Cheng, don’t be silly,” Jiang Yanli chided. “We are pixiu, not birds! The gift of flight comes only from the dragon king. You must respect that bond.” she turned back toward Wei Wuxian and smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners with bemusement. In a softer voice, she told him, “When your love matches our longwang’s, you can fly high enough to escape any danger.”

That’s how he thought of her, still. Enough love to rival longwang.

Wei Wuxian was smarter than Jiang Cheng, but not because he’d never cursed at the dragon king. That was a given, being a young pixiu learning to fly. He did, however, treat the gift of flight as the blessing it felt like when he soared through the air. It had been his mother’s greatest wish.

He’d only been a pixiu for a few decades, truth be told. Before their captivity with the Wens and before their family in Yunmeng and before he was a specter, alone, in Yiling, he lived with his parents and he was human. He was safe, and his mother sang him to sleep with tales of flight, of the infinite freedom of the sky. And when they weren’t safe anymore, she held him close to her heart and said “A-Ying, you were born to fly free.”

When they were gone, he taught himself to transform, and then to fly, in Yiling. He inhabited the surrounding forests and the mountain no one dared to approach, and he was lonely. Before long, he started to spend more time in the city, chasing the sounds of laughter and humanity. He lived off of birds and rats and watermelon rinds and tried not to bother the locals too much, but how could he have known that even then, the Wens were searching for him?

Wei Wuxian had known from the beginning—from the day he lost his parents—that danger lurked on the ground. Earth-dwellers were unpredictable and often cruel, so Wei Wuxian learned early on to appreciate the safety of the skies. The people chasing him were catching on, though. They flew on swords and taunted him, and near the end of his time in Yiling he began to grow too tired, too slow, to outrun them for much longer. And they knew it.

But Jiang Fengmian found him first, and for a while he was safe again. For a while, he and Jiang Cheng and Shijie were inseparable, and the three of them grew into each other’s hearts like vines, like coming home. Their bond was so strong and so desperate that when the Wens came, they almost escaped together. You were born to fly free, his mother had said, but Wei Wuxian had jeopardized not only his own freedom, but that of the family that had taken him in. And then, as if that hadn’t been enough, he’d gotten his brother captured along with him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know how long it had been since the fall of Lotus Pier. He didn’t know whether it was being rebuilt or left to ashes.

Jiang Cheng lived with empty eyes these days. He didn’t care so much, anymore, about what they did to him. He was tired. Wei Wuxian felt it tugging at him too, dead weight settling in his bones. Soon he would be unable to lift his head above the water. But Jiang Cheng was here, and he had let himself be taken to save Wei Wuxian by convincing them that they were better left alive, and then his life debt was twofold.

However much time had passed in the circus of a camp, the Wens were not going to let them live much longer. All the leaping and dancing and praying for wealth had grown tiresome even for them. Where are my riches, Wen Chao would howl, never quite realizing that none would come. Pixiu were not meant to be imprisoned, after all.

Wei Wuxian knew that Wen Chao was bored, even angry, at their inability to perform, and Wei Wuxian was tired, too. He and his brother could no longer fly after years of having their magic suppressed, could barely take their divine forms for minutes at a time after being forced into human ones for so long—for convenience, a Wen had sneered at the beginning.

The talismans suppressing their qi were powerful and steadfast, but Wei Wuxian was clever and had nothing but time. He fiddled and tested in the quiet moments, and when he finally found a solution he almost wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t sure what it would cost, but it didn’t matter in the end.

Now, after what felt like years of performing for the Wen’s entertainment, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng finally had a chance that they could not miss. It had to be now. A slip in Wen Zhuliu’s attention; a negligent guard, a reversed suppression talisman, and Wei Wuxian had broken out of his restraints, bolstered by the spiritual energy drawn into him instead of out. They were both gone before the rest of the camp was awake, before anyone could stop them.

The talismans didn’t last long, though. Wei Wuxian felt his strength stutter and stop all too soon. The two of them were, after all, powered by something else in him, and he wondered if it was already completely lost and spent. He’d hoped it would last longer. It would have to be enough. They landed alongside a river, and It was days of walking without pause before they were able to transform again. Jiang Cheng took one running leap, two, and his wings caught the air under him and lifted him skyward. Wei Wuxian had forgotten how brightly his eyes shone in the sun. He joined his brother and they mocked a brawl, reveling in their newfound freedom. They continued their journey above the clouds, and as the sun dipped below the horizon again, it became apparent they’d soon need a plan to get to safety. Yunmeng was—

They knew they couldn’t go back to Yunmeng, but the other great clans surely wouldn’t turn away two divine beasts in search of shelter, even from the Wens. They just needed to find a clan to take them in, just until they were well enough to find their sister. This is where the brothers split up, and this is where Wei Wuxian later thinks he may have made a mistake.

See, Wei Wuxian swears he had always been smarter than Jiang Cheng, so his heart sinks more in shock than in fear when his wings fail him again after an untold amount of hours in flight, and he begins to plummet from the sky. He had been so wrapped up in the chase, the escape, the air whipping past his face—when did the fog in his brain get so strong as to blind him? How had he not noticed his rapidly depleting energy until he was already half-human again? It didn’t matter; it happened too fast. He had been so foolish to believe he could really get away with those talismans unscathed. He had no idea where he was, only knew that Jiang Cheng was several cun ahead of him in the general direction of away from the Wens. He heard Jiang Cheng’s voice in his head—who’s the smarter one now—and he hoped his brother was too far away to notice him slipping away, to keep going, but the world went dark before he ever hit the ground.

–

Lan Wangji’s head whips up from its reading position as his study shakes with the force of a distant but powerful impact. The Cloud Recesses did not often receive guests given its position in the frigid mountains, nor does it have any reason to expect them now. He keeps a meticulous log of every single planned visit—no matter how many signs he puts up, few individuals respect his carefully crafted, foliage-lined pathways and the fragile ecosystems they protect. This visitor certainly will not, either, judging by the sheer volume of the echoing, far-off crash.

He stands with a sigh, knowing his disciples shouldn’t be left alone to investigate the crash. Anything resentful would have set off their wards, but even cultivators sometimes came to Gusu with less-than-noble intentions. With any luck, Lan Sizhui will already be at the scene to hold back the curious juniors.

Lan Xichen nods at him as they enter the hallway at the same time, smiling slightly. “We might as well check together, right? What a crash!” He remarks, too chipper for the situation. But Xichen was always the more extroverted of the two, he supposes. He leads the clan with a charming smile and endless patience, and he would be remiss if he were to miss such an outlandish event for their juniors. Lan Wangji nods back at his brother, and they summon their swords and are off.

The source of the sound ends up being farther away than he expects. They alight in a grove near the base of the mountain, blessedly far away from his gardens—whatever it was, it fell from a great height and left a crater the size of a fishing boat, but what lay in the center of the debris was no more than a man. He is thin, bruised and battered but somehow untouchable, with high cheekbones and a straight nose, dark lashes and smile lines. Lan Wangji is so entranced that he only notices Sizhui’s second repetition of, “Stay back! Wait for Hanguang-Jun.”

The juniors stand in a circle around the crater, hands on their swords but stances relaxed as they eye the unconscious figure in the center with apprehension. He radiates energy like a furnace, but it’s a different kind than what they’re used to—the tone and the color are different, and he can feel the overpowering presence of yin. Still, the stranger looks fragile.

Xichen is looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, so Lan Wangji shakes his head and steps forward.

This time, he is aware enough to notice another presence approaching rapidly, and he has just enough time to look up and take several steps back as a massive pixiu—in its full glory, this time, as he’s about to discover—lands between him and the man, roaring in fury. The creature has the head of a dragon and menacing teeth, a lion’s body and claws. Its feathered wings stand poised like a threat. The ring of disciples expands and they draw their swords, but Lan Wangji holds out a hand. He understands the size of the crater now, though not the reason why the beast had reverted to its human form. Lan Wangji wonders what could have depleted the energy of such a powerful entity, but shakes his head. Regardless of how the two pixiu had ended up in the Cloud Recesses, the role and charge of the Gusu Lan sect is in service to the heavens. Defensive or not, a pixiu is a divine beast descended from the Dragon King himself. As he opens his mouth to speak, though, the unconscious man in the center of the crater stirs. The pixiu freezes, turning its great head.

The world could have been screaming and he’s not sure he would have heard it the moment the man met his gaze. He takes half a step forward. For a second that hangs in time, he is lost in the onyx and exhaustion in the stranger’s eyes, and then he sees them widen in panic. The man pulls himself to his knees and grasps at the beast in front of him. “Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng, it’s okay! Calm down, I promise I’m okay!” he continues speaking as he stumbles to his feet and looks around, “So much better than okay, actually. We’ve landed in the Cloud Recesses!” he exclaims.

The pixiu looks at the circle of cultivators with their swords drawn and then back at the man, stamping a paw in irritated confusion. Astonishingly enough, the man laughs. A loud, surprised laugh like it was punched out of him, settling into a small smile that makes Lan Wangji wonder what he must look like when he really smiles. The stranger raises his arms, hands folded respectfully, and lowers his head in a bow before finally introducing himself. “My humble apologies for dropping in on you like this,” he begins, amusement coloring his tone before it fades with his next words. “My brother and I are in need of sanctuary, and we’ve heard that the Cloud Recesses can offer it. My name is Wei Wuxian, and my brother is Jiang Wanyin. Please forgive our rudeness.” Wei Wuxian maintains the bow for the whole introduction, but it becomes lower and shakier until he is leaning on his brother again for support by the end. Lan Wangji stares at the red ribbon in his hair and thinks that it must contain some charm to keep it in place after such a fall, like their Lan forehead ribbons. He does not think about rubbing his fingers at the end or about how soft the man’s hair looks even after a crash like that.

Instead, he motions for the circle to stand down and draws a breath, but Xichen speaks first. “Please do not bow to us. The Gusu Lan sect is honored to receive you. I am Lan Xichen, Peak Lord,” he says, and bows in return. Without hesitation, the disciples around them follow suit until Wei Wuxian is waving his hands in front of him.

“Ah, there’s no need for that! I just crash-landed on your lovely mountain, I should still be the one apologizing!” he says nervously

“No apology necessary,” Xichen assures him.

“I’m really sorry, though! I can help replant everything! I’m good at gardening!” Wei Wuxian grins winningly, and Lan Wangji almost has to squint against its brightness. “Well, I’ve never grown wildflowers, but I can definitely figure it out!!”

Lan Wangji takes another step forward and watches Wei Wuxian’s attention turn to him. It feels like being warmed by the sun. “The Cloud Recesses are open to you for whatever you should need, as long as you need. I am Lan Wangji of the Gusu Lan sect. We are sworn to serve the Dragon King and his descendants.” he pauses, glancing pointedly at the beast still standing threateningly over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “If your brother is willing to lower his guard, we will arrange to carry you to our healer to see to your wounds.”

Wei Wuxian gives another nervous laugh at that. “Who, me? No, no healer–just somewhere to lie down would be amazing.” he’s waving his hands again, dismissive even as the beast next to him—Jiang Wanyin—grumbles in protest, folding his hind legs into a seated position that still mostly obstructs Wei Wuxian from view. Lan Wangji purses his lips in disapproval, wondering how badly the man needed a doctor before falling from the sky. Before he can say anything, the man continues, “but my brother is starving. Do you have any meat?”

The disciples blanch, but Lan Xichen smiles indulgently and inclines his head. “I’m afraid we don’t eat meat in the Cloud Recesses, but I guarantee we have plenty of hearty food to nourish your body here,” he says, and Wei Wuxian’s face drops dramatically for a moment before he schools it into place. Lan Wangji files this information away for later.

Xichen raises his arms with a flourish to bow again, the pixiu’s eyes tracking his movements with a heavy stare. “You’ll forgive me for insisting on taking you to our healer, as your wounds do look quite severe. May I ask how the two of you came into this predicament?” The clan leader’s tone is polite but firm, and he inclines his head toward the crater meaningfully. Lan Wangji huffs and narrows his eyes for the answer. Why would this man refuse a healer after falling from the sky?

But Wei Wuxian just smiles wistfully and runs a hand over his brother’s wings, thinking for a moment. “You know how it is, when mortal folk encounter divinity,” he says with yet another wave of his hand, and Lan Wangji shakes his head, not quite surprised at the half-answer. He is surprised when Jiang Wanyin gives a final huff and disappears into a human with very little resemblance to Wei Wuxian.

“We escaped from a group of poachers,” the man grunts. “I don’t really think they’d come this far looking for us, but our magic is still recovering from being suppressed.” Jiang Wanyin’s voice is as annoyed as he looks, but his hands are soft when they reach to steady his brother. “And yeah, I’ll help him to the healer if you lead the way.” he says, turning to Lan Xichen who has frozen.

“You—“ Lan Xichen’s face twitches and he sweeps a sleeve behind his back. “You are Jiang Wanyin?” he asks politely.

The man raises an eyebrow, looking between the Lan brothers “Yeah? He’s adopted.” He jerks his thumb in Wei Wuxian’s direction.

“Apologies, I meant no offense.“ Xichen looks like he wants to say more, but he stops himself and spins on his heel as Wei Wuxian laughs again, batting at Jiang Wanyin’s still pointing thumb. “Follow me, please. The rest of you, dismissed.” He waves to the group of disciples and begins making his way back to the path that Lan Wangji would need to repair later.

He supposes he can forgive the destruction just this once.