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“We should go burn some paper money for Daozhang Xiao XingChen and Maiden A-Qing. There is a village in front of the road fork over there, right? Let us buy some things and pray for them” Lan JingYi suggested, disheveled and scruffy, through the hiccups of tears and snot that had begun to soil the robes on his sleeves.
“Sure, sure!”
Whether it was out of inspiration or motivation that sparked the alliance of the rest of the disciples he wasn’t too sure, but they cheered loudly almost as though they were contributing in their share for a party arrangement.
Upon arrival at the village, the Lan boys impatiently scurried into one of the Taoist stores, buying handfuls of random incense sticks, candles, and paper money before scuttling out over to the side. They seemed to have built something which resembled a stove using abandoned bricks and rocks had gathered up from nearby.
The boys then squatted in front of their arrangement, lighting a fire and slowly tossing paper money into the flames while muttering words of prayers and fanning the fire.
“HanGuang-Jun, look at what they’re doing right in front of people’s doors. You’re not even stopping them”, Wei WuXian remarked with mock pity.
“You can stop them.” , Lan WangJi replied indifferently.
“Fine. I’ll stop them for you.”
And with that being said, he walked towards the disciples.
With folded arms, he bent over them. “Am I seeing things? All of you are disciples of prominent sects. Your parents and relatives must’ve taught you that dead people can’t receive paper money, right? Why would dead people want money? They can’t receive those. And, you’re in front of somebody’s doors. If you burn them here…”
Lan JingYi pouted his lips in annoyance before waving at him, “Shoo, shoo. You are blocking the wind. It will not be able to burn anymore. And, it is not like you have died, so how do you know that dead people do not receive paper money?”
Another disciple remarked, his face already soiled in tears. “That’s right. How do you know? What if they can actually receive them?”
Wei WuXian straightened up. With a remorseful gaze, he looked towards the sky.
“How… do I know”, he breathed.
Of course, he would know. He had been dead for ten-or-so-years. No. To be precise, a good thirteen years. And during those thirteen years, he felt… nothing. Everything around him was nothingness, and all he could see was black. Had his eyes really been opened during that time? Was he ever ‘awake’? No, that wasn’t quite right, was it? He had felt… loneliness… desolation… and he couldn’t do anything about it.
There was no Uncle Jiang, Lady Yu, ShiJie, Wen Qing.
During those years, not once had he ever received any sort of prayers nor a single piece of paper money. There was no flickering flames like the boy’s had lit up, no flits of papers or slits of light… just darkness.
And as if that mental trip back to when he was dead wasn’t enough, JingYi stabs yet another knife into his heart, “Even if you could not receive them, it was probably because nobody burned them for you.”
His eyes widened in shock and hurt, and that was all it took for him to hunch over, arms wrapping around himself in some sort of self-supplied comfort.
‘Why? Why? How come? Was there really no one for me? Did everyone really enjoyed my death? No graves - no prayers - no mournings. Was I really that much of a failure? Was there not a single person who burned paper money for me? Was it really because nobody burned them that I didn’t receive any?’
He shook in self-denial the more he lamented over the thought.
‘Surely! Surely, there had to have been someone… no?’
Wei WuXian toppled backward in panic, his hands against the pavement to prevent his complete fall. And before he knew, his gaze flung back in fury, looking for a sign - a reassurance that his life wasn’t completely useless.
He tripped, scampering up to grab fistfuls of Lan WangJi's robes, almost bowling the taller man over had he not been watching. Wei WuXian rested his head against Lan WangJi’s chest - almost in resignation, hands tightened their grasp on smooth robes, praying for the answer he longed to hear at that moment.
And he whispered to the other, rushed, “HanGuang-Jun, have you burnt paper money for me? At least you’ve burnt paper money for me, right?”
Lan WangJi glanced down at him, pulled the other man away from him and dusted down his robes for any ash particles that may have gotten caught, straightening them in the process. Then he appeared to stare off into the distance, staying silent and pristine as he ever was, not a single word or action was given in reply.
Looking at the others calmed expression, Wei WuXian’s arms collapsed against his side and face hanged as he bit his lips slowly.
‘No response. So, not an affirmation. But, not a rejection either. Really? Had he really not burned anything?... At all?... Was his short life really that worthless? Absolutely useless?... Had his actions of redemption… had all been in vain? One after the other?...’
Seeing the other so… mulled over? Sent a pang of guilt down his own heart.
“...Wei Ying…”, Lan WangJi muttered silently.
Having not heard him, he turned away from the other, heavy footsteps trudging him forward as he slowly walked away from the group.
____________________________________________________________________________
Later that night when they were back at an Inn, all seated together down for dinner before retiring for the night, Wei WuXian glanced at the table - watching dishes arrive one-by-one, pretending as if he was all fine. He noted Lan WangJi had ordered him quite a few dishes. It wasn’t hard to differentiate which ones were especially for him and which were for the juniors, all his ones were covered in red.
Unconsciously paying attention to Lan WangJi’s chopsticks, he notices the other mostly touched the mildly flavored dishes. And even if he was to eat from the few dishes covered completely in bright-red, his expressions remained the same - unchanged.
And the realization almost bowls him over. How long - how many years had he spent with the other? Beside him? Boasting about having been so close when they studied together. Thinking they were brothers after surviving the XuanWu incident together… thinking they were friends - close friends, after so many outings together when he was the Yiling Patriarch.
He was a fool - an utter fool - having taken the others considerations as granted for so long.
And the hurt - the guilt - becomes too much for him, lips trembling as he clenches his own fists under the table.
He didn’t know Lan WangJi.
He didn’t understand Lan WangJi at all.
Having noticed Wei WuXian’s gaze on him, Lan WangJi asks, “What is wrong?”
“Nothing… not hungry”, Wei WuXian replies, dispirited. And puts down his chopsticks, slowly getting up from his spot and making his way upstairs to his room. In his trance of state, he had completely forgotten he and Lan WangJi shared a room.
Collapsing tiredly on their bed, Wei WuXian rolled to face the wall, gradually curling up.
All these years, and he had mistaken Lan WangJi’s kindness, taking his presence as comfort. Treating him as a classmate - a friend - a brother… and wishing, no. Longing… for something more between them. Yearning to find protection - a home - comfort - trust - safety - a dream - within him.
But the realization that nobody burnt paper money for his soul - Lan WangJi never burnt paper money for his death, made it clear that his life meant nothing. Who was he kidding? People rejoiced over his death! It wasn’t that people forgot about him, they wanted to forget him - remove traces of his existence entirely.
That was when he finally realized, there was something really wrong with Wei WuXian! Quickly grabbing his bowl, he piled it up with a few spicy dishes. Leaving his disciples to finish up, he swiftly climbed up the stairs to their room, only to find Wei WuXian coiled up on their bed. Making his way over to the table, he placed the bowl of food down, before removing his outer robe and hanging that up. For the first-time-in-a-long-time, the silence felt uncomfortable. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, wanting to reach out for Wei WuXian, but hesitated and decided against it.
“...Wei Ying…”, Lan WangJi called out softly.
And before he could hold himself back, Wei WuXian trembled, fat tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.
Had Lan WangJi only brought him along because he shamelessly clung onto him? Because he saved his disciples from the ferocious corpse, and now they had to find the parts of their “dear-friend”? So… what was he to do after all this ended? In his past life, he had Uncle Jiang, Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng, and ShiJie. But when they left, he had Wen Ning, Wen Qing, A-Yuan… ah - his precious, A-Yuan…
He hadn’t been completely alone. But then came thirteen years of solitude… and now, all he had was Lan Zhan, the only person who had allowed him to remain by his side. He had unconsciously grown attached to Lan Zhan, found comfort in his presence… and that he was scared. No, terrified, of letting go - to return back to the darkness.
Getting no response from Wei WuXian, Lan WangJi reached out - an attempt to get the others attention but suddenly pulled back abruptly when his fingers brushed against something wet on his face.
Almost afraid he was going to find blood, he quickly turned his fingers to see. But instead of meeting with crimson red, he found water - his fingertips were wet but warm.
And that’s when it hit him, they were tears! Was Wei WuXian…?
Startled, he grabbed a hold onto Wei WuXian, rolling him over to face him and sitting him up, his fingers slowly brushing away his tears.
“Wei Ying…”
No response.
He tried again.
“Wei Ying… speak. What is wrong?”
And that was when the dam broke, Wei WuXian collapsing to rest against his chest, hand scampering to grasp onto any part of Lan WangJi’s clothing.
“Lan Zhan! LanZhan!”, Wei WuXian cried, practically begging, “You won’t leave me, right?!”
He knew he was a mess by now. He could feel his eyes begin to sting, face itching and tears maring his handsome features, but he couldn’t care less. At this point, he was praying to any deity, goddess, anyone above who cared to listen to his pleas right now.
‘Please, just one… I won’t ask for anything more. Please, just let me have one person to accompany me in this life…’
Lan WangJi froze, stunned beyond belief at what Wei Ying abrupt confession, if this even counted as a confession at all, as his heart pounded against his chest.
Neither hearing or seeing a response from Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian crumbles. In the past, he convinced himself he could live with Lan WangJi hating him, that he could live - alone just by watching Lan WangJi from afar. But now, having spent every day since he had awoken next to the Lan, he couldn’t bear to let him go… didn’t want to return to the darkness. And in the throes of panic and fear, he thought of having Bichen cutting through him - it is a divine blade in the cultivation world, surely it could render his soul irreparable?!
Scampering up, Wei WuXian kneeled. Towering over Lan WangJi, Wei WuXian brought his hands to cup the other's cheeks, leaning forward in a frenzied manner, attempting to kiss those lips just once. But seeing no response from the Lan, he decided against the action and outrightly exclaimed, “kill me, Lan Zhan! Kill me! You hate me, right? Despise demonic cultivators like me? I’ve hurt you, time-and-time again! I’m right here, so take your retribution now!”
He was crazed, frantic, desperate, but if Lan WangJi really was to end him, then please, let him hold onto one last warmth before he lets go of everything.
Wei WuXian collapses down in front of him, shattered, while a forlorn expression marred his face. “I can’t go on, Lan Zhan… I’ve had enough… I really can’t go on anymore…”
He looked dazed, tranced and incomprehensive of anything Lan WangJi was going to say to him. Regardless, Lan WangJi shuffles forward, hesitantly resting his arms on Wei WuXian’s shoulders. Even through his layers of robes, Lan WangJi could feel him tensed and anxious, soft tremors wrecking through his body.
“Wei Ying”, Lan WangJi calls softly, shaking the other man slightly. “Wake up.”
Lan WangJi sees the way his form stiffens, but no further movement of acknowledgment.
And he tries again, shaking just a tad harder. “Wei Ying”.
This time the other man’s head snaps up to look at him, stammering a soft - resigned, “...Lan… Zhan…”
“Breathe”, Lan WangJi stalls, “Calm down. You’re safe - I’m here. Remember where you are - where we are.”
With that, Wei WuXian slumps against the taller man. An arm stretched out to wrap around Lan WangJi’s waist, while the other rests against his stomach, fingers reaching out to twirl a lock of hair between them. “...ahh, you’re so warm, Lan Zhan… I’ve missed you - I’ve missed this… I’ve forgotten how to live without you…”
Getting over the surprise which had enveloped him from the others actions, Lan WangJi tentatively grabs ahold of Wei WuXian, pulling him into an embrace and combing his fingers through his hair. He repeats his earlier words to him, hoping to calm him down and bring him back to earth, “Wei Ying, it’s okay. I’m here… I’m here, beside you. I’m not going anywhere, so stay… right here… with me… I need you, Wei Ying, I need you.”
Wei WuXian bites against the corner of his lips, eyes closed, but nods into the embrace, “Mnnn”
Lan WangJi looked down on the man wrapped around him, and his lips trembled at the realization of how close he was to once again lose this man. Looming over over Wei WuXian, almost protectively, he made the vow to never let go of the other ever again.
Unconsciously, Wei WuXian snuggled into Lan WangJi’s embrace, delving deeper into the warmth emanating from him.
He didn’t know what sort of relationship had developed between them, or how much longer this relationship could go on for. But as long as Lan WangJi still wanted Wei WuXian beside him, he shall remain by his side.
He knew this wouldn’t last forever, but for now, it was enough.