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Chapter Text

As a child, Lan Zhan had believed that quiet was the natural state of the world; growing up, he disappointedly understood that it was only for him and the people who lived with him in Cloud Recesses. Those he met when going elsewhere or who visited them from other places were rarely quiet: they spoke too loudly, they had no qualms about saying everything that came into their heads, sometimes they even criticized those who weren't there, gossiping behind their backs; in general, others had been noisy, irritating, and annoying entities.

Lan Zhan had believed that, some more, some less, they were all the same.

That was until the day he met him. From the first moment, Wei Wuxian had managed to sweep away his preconceptions to establish himself as a new, dizzying yardstick. No one had ever been as loud as him; brash like him; as exasperating as him; smiling like him.

Lan Zhan could almost give him credit for greatly reducing his annoyance towards everyone else, since since their meeting he was the only person who came to mind when talking about people not belonging to the Lan clan.

Wei Wuxian was without a doubt the most unbearable person Lan Zhan had ever met. And it exasperated him like nothing else knowing he was also so brilliant. Why did he have to be like this? Lan Zhan asked himself this every day, and every day, he couldn't help but follow him with his gaze.

It was like when the tongue unconsciously touched the aching tooth; Even though he knew he would be better off ignoring him, Lan Zhan continued to look at Wei Wuxian.

That's why that morning, probably the only one to do so, he immediately realized that Wei Wuxian was strange. Not even his brother, Jiang Cheng, seemed to have noticed that, standing next to him, Wei Wuxian's shoulders were a little too stiff, his face a little too pale, his smile tense and false.

Lan Zhan frowned: what had troubled him?

A small delegation of officials from Yunmeng, the two boys' homeland, had just arrived in Cloud Recesses; but it wasn't a noteworthy event at all: only respectable men who, traveling on business, had asked for a night's rest. Jiang Cheng had been perfectly indifferent to seeing them, so those men must not have had any connection with the Jiang clan.

Only Wei Wuxian was reacting strangely. Lan Zhan was even more annoyed because, in his strangeness, the boy had become silent, calm and respectable; so why was he complaining about it? Why didn't he like it?

Lan Zhan was exasperated: Wei Wuxian was such a living chaos that he was leading even him, who until then had always been able to count on his own rectitude, made up of rules and precepts, straight and inflexible like a bamboo cane, to contradict himself.

His uncle granted the officials' request to stay for the night; their leader, a stocky man with a square jaw, bowed his head respectfully to express his thanks; one of the other men, the tallest, with broad shoulders and arms as sturdy as two tree trunks, smiled at the small group of younger disciples, Lan children who had just begun their training path. He hadn't even looked at Wei Wuxian, yet the boy, already unnaturally still for someone with his vitality, looked away. Lan Zhan had never seen him fidget with the hem of his sleeves before. It was a nervous and insecure gesture that could have been expected from Nie Huaisang, the boy who everyone considered Lan Qiren's first failure, but not from him. Never from him.

Wei Wuxian remained strange for the rest of the day; he followed the lessons in such silence, meek and respectful, hunched over his books without ever opening his mouth, that even Lan Qiren, instead of being satisfied, looked worried. At least Lan Zhan wasn't the only one with those contradictory feelings.

He skipped lunch and refused the other boys' invitations to have fun together; He also had a falling out with his brother, when Jiang Cheng asked him what the hell was wrong, and he told him it was none of his business. Jian Cheng was a strict boy who didn't let his emotions show, yet he was hurt by that abrupt rejection. But Wei Wuxian, despite being the one who had rejected the other, seemed the more upset; he hastily apologized and separated from the astonished group of disciples for the rest of the afternoon, only showing up for dinner, during which he only nibbled a few bites of rice.

Even Lan Zhan, sitting next to his brother at the Lan family table, ended up eating little or nothing: his chopsticks absentmindedly clutched in his hand and his gaze fixed on the other side of the room.

In the dead of night, Lan Zhan was breaking rules for the first time in his life. He hadn't gone to sleep at sunset, he was following someone secretly and, most reprehensible of all, he had been crossed by the rebellious thought that these rules, if they wanted to prevent him from doing exactly what he was doing, were stupid.

Lan Zhan couldn't help but resent Wei Wuxian, because it was all his fault; both because he was wandering around at night, and because he had been behaving so strangely all day that Lan Zhan had to keep an eye on him.

For hours, even hours when they should have been sleeping, Wei Wuxian simply stood, his back resting against the wall of the corridor that led to the disciples' quarters.

It would be a lie to say that Lan Zhan was on the verge of losing his temper. Because he hadn't yet sunk so low as to become impatient, and also because Wei Wuxian's expression in the dim light was so... blank, but at the same time contracted by violent, bridled feelings, that Lan Zhan wouldn't have been able to look away from him even if he wanted to.

Footsteps in the dark made Lan Zhan stiffen as Wei Wuxian squared his shoulders.

Illuminated by the moon's rays, a tall and robust man appeared who Lan Zhan recognized as belonging to the group of officials. The man who smiled at the children. At that moment, however, he wasn't smiling; cautious before, when he saw Wei Wuxian, he turned to stone. A violent wave of emotions crossed his face, of dismay and fear, making him similar to a hunted animal whose only escape route was blocked; then he pull himself together, hid those instinctive emotions and smiled as if nothing had happened.

“You also don't agree with the Lan's bigoted rules?” he asked Wei Wuxian in a friendly tone.

He, who Lan Zhan knew would normally have laughed and responded in an even more conspiratorial manner, stared at the man with a look that made Lan Zhan uncomfortable: cold and hostile, completely foreign to that always smiling face.

“I was sure you wouldn't be able to resist,” he stated.

What, Lan Zhan thought as the man asked the question aloud. “Do you think I'm trying to sneak out to get a drink?” he then added, chuckling.

“You wanted to enter a child's room to rape him.”

Wei Wuxian's words rang out in the silent corridor.

Lan Zhan, for the first time in his life, gasped. He was so taken aback that he had forgotten that among the three thousand written rules of the Lans there was also that of not eavesdropping on other people's conversations like a vulgar gossipy.

The man's face twisted into a strange grimace, as if he had tried to laugh while his features instinctively stiffened. “What are you…” he tried to say, his voice too hoarse to sound carefree.

“You thought it was too risky and you should let it go, but you couldn't help yourself.” Wei Wuxian interrupted him with that harsh tone that Lan Zhan didn't know. He gave a humorless laugh. “You couldn't resist the beauty of the Lan children. You must have thought that it would be easy after all, because a little disciple of this clan would never speak out of shame and dishonor, right?”

Lan Zhan didn't know what to think. An act like the one Wei Wuxian feared was ignoble, something that should never have even touched the thoughts of a man worthy of being considered such. The words themselves, spoken by Wei Wuxian's voice, usually vibrant with life and joy, sounded dirty and wrong. Lan Zhan hated hearing them. He blamed Wei Wuxian for saying them. And his heart skipped a beat when the man, instead of exculpating himself, telling the boy with righteous fury not to tarnish his name, curved his lips in an oblique smile.

“I understand,” he said, carefully measuring his voice and words.

Wei Wuxian's gaze had become even more cautious and shadowy, making him appear more adult than normal. But instead he became that of a startled child, his eyes wide with sincere, total disbelief, when the man nodded at him. “You're like me too, huh?” he questioned him. “To recognize a wolf you need another wolf.”

"What?" Wei Wuxian exhaled in a strangled voice.

The man, now bold, put his arm around the boy's shoulders. “Did you also start with your servants' children?” he asked him in a casual tone, almost as if they were talking about the latest harvests.

Don't touch him. Lan Zhan was amazed at how vehemently his mind growled those words. It was wrong for such a man to touch a boy like Wei Wuxian; Lan Zhan thought darkly as he watched him shake off that arm, twitching as if he had been burned.

"I'm not like you!" he exclaimed.

 More than outraged, Wei Wuxian seemed… anxious? Eager to contradict the man in a strange way, too frenetic and desperate. Lan Zhan moved uncomfortably: in hindsight he would have deeply regretted it, but at that moment he thought with analytical coldness that Wei Wuxian's attitude made him appear guilty of something. He harbored that terrible and unfair idea for just a few seconds, but it was a few seconds too long when, immediately afterwards, the man denied it by bursting into hoarse laughter.

He placed a hand under Wei Wuxian's chin and forced him to lift his face to look at him better.

“Well, the options are limited, aren't they?” he sneered. “If you're not like me, there's only one other way you might know me. Yes, you're pretty; very pretty. You were definitely my type as a kid.”

The sheer casualness of his words, that nonchalance so calm, so arrogant, shocked Lan Zhan almost more than the implication itself of what he had done to Wei Wuxan; everything was then crushed by the sense of guilt that, like a landslide, fell on him: having thought the worst of Wei Wuxian, even if only for the time of a breath, gave him a shiver of disgust towards himself.

Wei Wuxian meanwhile had slapped the man's hand. "In truth, all you had done had been tell me how much my filth bothered you," he replied harshly. Despite the paleness of his face, he had spoken to him without looking away.

The man's lighted up in recognition. "Yiling's little wanderer!" he exclaimed. His satisfaction as a man, rightly so, normally satisfied with having remembered something, exacerbated the rottenness of his words. "You were the only street child I ever got close to, an exception, in fact. Normally it bothers me to touch someone who doesn't wash regularly, but you were just too cute. In a way, you should be proud of that."

Before Wei Wuxian could say anything, if he would, the man continued. "Yes, now I remember you perfectly. At the time, there was a lot of talk about Jiang Fengmian's adopted child. I had recognized you immediately when the clan leader had brought you into the city with him for the first time; I had thought how unfortunate I must be that he had gone all the way to Yiling to find a brat, but after all... you didn't seem like a stupid child, you must have been aware that it wouldn't be convenient for you to tell certain things to your new protector. According to rumors, his noble consort was already extremely displeased with you; it would have been easy to imagine that, upon discovering your past, she would want you ten leagues away from her children.”

Lan Zhan was acutely aware that he had no right to hear all this, but his legs seemed to have been made of stone. 

The man looked like he was having fun; he was smiling, not with the sunny smiles that Lan Zhan had become accustomed to with Wei Wuxian, but with a mischievous curl of his lips. “You were lucky, weren't you?” he insisted. “Then come on, don't be a party pooper: go back to bed and let me do what I want.”

In contrast, Wei Wuxian's lips were pressed into a single stern line. “You will not go near any child,” he told him. His voice trembled due to anger.

The man let out a loud snort. “Oh, come on!”

“I told you to leave, dammit!”

Wei Wuxian had snapped in frustration. He looked too much like the boy he was to inspire fear in a man like that; the man that rolled his eyes before snorting again, almost as if he regarded the whole situation as an annoying setback.

“What's your problem, are you resentful that I never paid you?” he scoffed Wei Wuxian. “I can understand that; after all, Jiang Fengmian even took you as a disciple.”

The vulgar insinuation of his words shocked Lan Zhan more than he already was. Daring to believe that a clan leader could welcome a child into his home to… to do… was simply inconceivable.

Such an affront was punishable by death and, for a moment, it seemed that Wen Wuxian wanted to attack him with that precise intention. The pleasant and serene features of his face had transformed into a mask of fury.

“Don't you dare insult my uncle!” he snapped. He was shaking with anger. “Don't you dare. You can say what you want about me, but he’s a person above suspicion, honest, loyal and kind; you mustn't even dare to say his name!”

The man raised his hands as if to shield himself, his movements deliberately exaggerated in a mocking way. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said, “I didn't want to anger such a faithful watchdog. It's good that you are loyal to the master who feeds you."

Wei Wuxian didn't take the provocation; taking a few steps forward, he faced the man face to face. “Go back to your room,” he ordered. Just this; too terse for someone who usually loved to talk, dripping with a contempt that should have been foreign to his gentle nature.

The man's expression darkened.

If he thought he could do it, Lan Zhan would have intervened long ago. But a voice inside him was insinuating that Wei Wuxian would never call him by name again if he discovered that he was being spied on. And that voice, apparently, didn't like the idea.

However, Lan Zhan clenched his fists as he had never done, like a fool unable to control his feelings, when he saw the man grab Wei Wuxian by the arm. He abruptly freed himself, his gaze poised between anger and a hint of anxiety: the man took advantage of the moment to quickly kick him behind the ankles; losing his balance, Wei Wuxian was dragged to the ground. The man climbed astride his stomach, so much bigger than him that he towered over him without effort; one hand on his mouth, the other pinning both wrists above his head.

“You talk a lot, but you're nothing but a dirty opportunist,” he hissed in his face. “You could have reported me to the Honorable Lan Qiren, but the truth is that you would rather die than make your past known; people vaguely know that you were a little tramp, that's fine, you can accept it, but you would never tell them about fighting with stray dogs over rubbish, about trying to steal again and again, despite all the beatings you got because of this; of having slept in the mud or bitten a dead mouse due to starvation. Or being raped by me, and maybe by who knows how many other men who adored the beautiful, weak, malnourished child that you were.”

It took Lan Zhan a few seconds to realize that the iron lump he had swallowed was his own blood. He had bitten his cheek so hard that it was bleeding.

Meanwhile the man was continuing with a voice increasingly full of venom. “Did you think you were threatening me? Yet it seems that I am the one who can blackmail you; You're too grown up for my tastes, but you're still a cute boy. So what do you say, I don't tell anything about our past and now you take your pants down.”

It was too much. Lan Zhan almost lunged at the man, vaguely aware that he could, wanted to hit him – and he didn't care how many more rules he would break because of it.

But Wei Wuxian was faster: he bit the hand covering his mouth, hard enough to make it bleed and make the man curse in pain. He let him go, clutching his injured hand to his chest. “You little bastard…!”

At the same time as his wrists were free, Wei Wuxian had quickly grabbed a dagger hidden in his waistband. He had pointed it at the man's throat, silencing him.

He gulped conspicuously.

They were at a stalemate; the man didn't dare move, not knowing what to expect from the boy who could slit his throat, while Lan Zhan knew that Wei Wuxian would never do that. That, despite everything, he didn't want to do it. He was the kind of person who wanted to save others, not kill them.

“That's enough.”

Lan Zhan had stepped forward firmly, knowing he couldn't procrastinate any longer. He pretended it wasn't difficult for him to look at Wei Wuxian's… vulnerable expression – he didn't just look mortified, Lan Zhan could have dealt with this, resolutely telling him that his past didn't influence his present; the extent of his discomfort reminded him of a turtle flipped onto its shell by some brats.

Gently, Lan Zhan squeezed his wrist to urge him to remove the dagger from the man's throat.

“Lan-er-gongzi!” the man exclaimed. Probably confident that Lan Zhan hadn't heard anything, he turned to him with relief. “Thank you so much for…”

Today was seeing an endless number of firsts for Lan Zhan; he had never interrupted anyone in his life, yet now he didn't hesitate to silence the man. “You will leave Cloud Recesses now,” he ordered. His voice was cold. “Without going to get your luggage, without making any excuses to your friends: you will leave now. As soon as I finish speaking, you will silently get up and leave this place without ever looking back.”

His cold, controlled anger made the man pale as if Lan Zhan had spewed bloody threats at him.

After a brief hesitation, during which Lan Zhan continued to stare at him harshly, the man obeyed his request; he shot a rancorous look at Wei Wuxian, then headed towards the exit with a rigid posture and a brisk step.

Left alone, silence fell over them like a physical pall.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again; he tried to crack a smile, which came out more like a grimace. Defeated, he ran a hand through his hair. “Don't you have anything to say?” he asked Lan Zhan. His tone was difficult to read.

“I offer you my thanks.”

Given his shocked expression, it wasn't what Wei Wuxian had expected to hear.

Lan Zhan continued after bowing his head. “Thank you for protecting the children. Something unspeakable could have happened tonight if it weren't for you. I thank you on behalf of the entire Lan clan.”

Wei Wuxian was still speechless. Then he erupted into a half-hearted, even slightly malicious laugh. “Are you thanking me for something anyone would have done to avoid dealing with what you heard?"

It was true that Lan Zhan didn't know how to discuss what he heard; but it was false that his thanks they were insincere. He frowned. “Starting a fight in which you have everything to lose and that no one asked you to fight is not something many people would do,” he replied.

"Oh?" Wei Wuxian tilted his face, studying him with a calculating expression. Lan Zhan saw a first glimpse of the boy he knew in the playful flicker that crossed his gaze. “I didn't know you thought so highly of me."

“I've always respected you. This is why your attitude deeply irritated me; If I were an idiot and an inept, I would have ignored you. But it's hard to pretend not to notice the person who is the most brilliant and at the same time the most irresponsible of all."

He had been absolutely sincere, both with Wei Wuxian and with himself. For this reason, Lan Zhan was a little offended when he reacted by bursting out laughing, but ultimately he was also relieved. Wei Wuxian, who had been sitting on the floor until now, rose to his feet. He removed some non-existent dust from his trousers - at Cloud Recesses they cared about cleanliness, thank you very much - and gave him a smile.

“I think I deserved a sipe of Emperor's Smile,” he said. “Will you take me into town to buy a flask?”

It was an obvious provocation. Lan Zhan thought that Wei Wuxian was the first to not know exactly what he hoped to achieve. But there was also an unspoken request beneath the layers of cheekiness and playfulness, hidden even deeper than the pain in his eyes.

Lan Zhan nodded. He had already broken so many rules that day; it wouldn't be two more that would ruin him. “All right,” he said; simple and clear.

“Excuse me…?”

“I said all right: I'll take you to buy the Emperor's Smile.”

Wei Wuxian widened his eyes exaggeratedly. “Who are you and what have you done with Lan Zhan?” he asked, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

Lan Zhan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Lead the way,” he commanded dryly.

Wei Wuxian's smile faltered, making Lan Zhan immediately regret not playing his game. Of not being capable of it. Would another person in his place have known what to do, and would have done it well?  “Really, I was just joking,” Wei Wuxian told him. He was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “You shouldn't feel obligated to do anything that…”

“I want to do it.”

He shouldn't have wanted it, but if this was the most unpredictable day of his life, Lan Zhan could go through with it. And perhaps, in this way, the acid lump of remorse that was stuck in his throat would pass.

Wei Wuxian looked at him thoughtfully; He wasn't smiling, but he didn't seem resentful either. In his place, Lan Zhan wouldn't have forgiven anyone who had secretly discovered such an ugliness from his past. In Wei Wuxian's place, he wasn't sure if he would be able to overcome the disgrace and continue to live normally – no, it wasn't an accusation against the other boy, far from it: Lan Zhan was... impressed, admired by the fact that, despite this, Wei Wuxian was the person he was, genuinely spontaneous, cheerful and positive.

Wei Wuxian finally smiled at him. “Only if you agree to climb over the walls,” he teased. "Using your pass would be boring; if you have to do a sin, then make it a big one.”

Lan Zhan opened his mouth to contest that way of thinking but ended up closing it again without saying a word. He had thought it was the right thing to do, just for that evening, yet Wei Wuxian looked dissatisfied, as if he was missing something when Lan Zhan didn't scold him. At least his expression had become more relaxed; he was still a little pale, his smile less bright than usual, but he didn't seem to be faking it as he told him that he would pay.

"Let's avoid breaking at least one rule and stay and drink at the inn, what do you say?" he then added. "You know, since it's forbidden to bring alcohol into Cloud Recesses."

"All right."

"Good! And will you drink with me?”

"… All right."

“If I get drunk, will you carry me on your shoulders on the way back?”

Lan Zhan didn't bat an eye. "All right."

Wei Wuxian's smile was huge and sincere at that point. The feeling Lan Zhan felt upon seeing him couldn't be anything other than profound relief.

When he had agreed, Lan Zhan hadn't fully considered what it would mean to stop and drink in an inn. Among other people. In the city. First, he realized that he was more recognizable than he had initially imagined, as every single mouth had dropped open at his arrival. So Lan Zhan had underestimated Wei Wuzian's sociable nature; he had barely drunk half a glass and several men had already been attracted by his laughter.

Lan Zhan narrowed his eyes as one of them put an arm around Wei Wuxian's shoulders; the gesture was friendly; it was clear that he was simply tipsy and cheerful, but even if the boy himself showed no signs of discomfort, Lan Zhan became impatient again. The man, pierced by his menacing gaze, quickly removed his arm.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked worriedly. He was drunk enough to splutter, but not drunk enough to ignore the danger.

"Don't worry, he's just not a big fan of physical contact" Wei Wuxian reassured him. He hadn't looked at Lan Zhan when he was talking about him; what he had said was true, but his nonchalance had sounded a little artificial, as if he partly wanted to sell that motivation.

Before meeting Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan had known neither that he was terrible at expressing his feelings nor how frustrating it could be. He supposed, but wasn't sure, that Wei Wuxian was thinking of something wrong, like that Lan Zhan saw him as a charity case to be protected – a boy with obvious and valid reasons for not wanting to be casually touched by strangers.

"I know you don't play the role of the sociable person" he clarified firmly, "I would never think that you feel uncomfortable around others or that you touch and let them touch you without wanting to. It just annoys me.”

Lan Zhan didn't think he said anything strange, so he didn't understand why Wei Wuxian, who had just brought the glass to his lips, had choked on a sip of liquor. He started coughing spasmodically. "I can…?" the same man from before asked, one hand on the boy's back. Without changing his expression, Lan Zhan pushed the man away and it was he who patted Wei Wuxian's back to help him catch his breath.

When he calmed down, Wei Wuxian ran one hand through his hair while raising his glass with the other. “Give me more Emperor's Smile: it seems I really need to drink this evening.”

Since he was the one who agreed, Lan Zhan was in no position to object. Furthermore, he reasoned that since Wei Wuxian had downed an entire liquor flask during their first meeting, he presumably must handle the alcohol well.

Over the next half hour, Lan Zhan experienced a profound internal dilemma: Wei Wuxian couldn’t handle his alcohol, or he could sing horrible tavern ballads even when sober. As he sat stiffly in his seat, the first glass still full in his hand, Lan Zhan watched him take part in a chorus of drunken, rowdy men. All this went far beyond the lack of quiet: it was a reality diametrically opposed to his, a true world apart. Lan Zhan didn't like it. However, Wei Wuxian was laughing, and he liked seeing him without a smile on his face even less.

“Lan Zhan! Come, come, join us!”

There was a long way from wanting to see Wei Wuxian smile to trampling on his own dignity. "No," Lan Zhan replied coldly. Wei Wuxian just laughed. When he saw him smiling and chatting with another man, perhaps deciding on the next stupid song, Lan Zhan drank his glass in one gulp.

What happened next was… hazy.

Lan Zhan would only reconnect the various memories the following morning, as he sat with his head in his hands with Wei Wuxian kindly handing him a glass of water; even then he wouldn't have been able to fill in all the dark points, but at least he would have recreated an overall picture: he had gotten drunk. It would have been painful and humiliating to admit it, but he had experienced the first hangover of his life; Even more mortifying: he had been a troublesome type of drunk. Wanting to believe Wei Wuxian's words, and the boy would have no reason to lie, Lan Zhan had fallen asleep like a log, still sitting upright, his face resting on the palm of his hand. Just as suddenly, startling at least a couple of people at the nearby tables, he had woken up; drunk, he had tried to pick a fight with the man who had continued to stay too close to Wei Wuxian. Lan Zhan had given him a slap. And then a push. Wei Wuxian had told this while his shoulders were shaking with laughter.

At that point I thought it would be best to bring you back, he would continue, still unbearably amused, you promised to carry me on your back, but I was the one who carried you. Oh, I almost forgot: for some strange reason you consider the moon your sworn enemy; you told her not to be cowardly and come down and face you fairly.

Wei Wuxian wouldn't have added much else; perhaps out of pity towards him.

Lan Zhan, for whom it would already have been a mortal blow to wake up next to him, both lying in his bed because, apparently, the night before he had refused to let Wei Wuxian go away, would have accepted that kindness with extreme, silent gratitude.

However, all this would have happened much later.

In the moment, through the haze that had fallen over his eyes, Lan Zhan only knew that he was annoyed by those men crowded around Wei Wuxian; His cheerful laugh might attract people just as pollen attracted bees, but that didn't mean strangers had the right to be extra friendly.

Wei Wuxian called him by his private name; not them.

Drunk, it seemed to him a perfectly valid motivation. Somehow, having foiled a brawl that would stain Lan Zhan's soul and reputation for the next five reincarnations, Wei Wuxian managed to drag him out unscathed - well, more than anything else, saving those men, who wouldn't have had a single chance against him, from his irrationally tipsy anger.

Once on the street, Wei Wuxian threw back his head and burst out laughing as if Lan Zhan's anger was something funny. Offended, he tried to hit him, but Wei Wuxian nimbly avoided it with a backward leap. He was still laughing, now with his arms crossed behind his head.

Through the alcoholic haze, Lan Zhan tensed instinctively as Wei Wuxian slowly abandoned his cheerful expression; it was as if a cloud had descended on his face, not so gloomy as embittered. “Thanks, and sorry” he told him with a half-smile. “Thank you for not stopping behaving as usual with me, and sorry for the cowardice of talking to you now that you're drunk, so you'll hardly remember it tomorrow.”

Although with difficulty, Lan Zhan understood that he was hearing words he didn't like. However, before he could attempt to answer, Wei Wuxian smiled again; it was the same, identical smile as when they first met: completely innocent, absolutely disarming.

At that moment, Lan Zhan realized that Wei Wuxian had been inside him ever since; a single smile from an unknown boy, moreover a brazen rebel determined to introduce alcohol to Cloud Recesses, and a hitherto unknown instrument, something he hadn't even believed he had within himself, had vibrated its first note. Lan Zhan couldn't ignore him even if he wanted to.

Drowsiness hit him so suddenly that Lan Zhan would have fallen to the ground if Wei Wuxian hadn't quickly held up him; he was a little shorter than him and his build was slimmer, but his arms supported him confidently. Lan Zhan's eyelids fluttered to stay open. When he gave up, the last thing he saw before falling asleep was Wei Wuxian's smiling face; his last conscious thought was that it would be nice to fall asleep every night with that image before his eyes.

Chapter Text

"Hunting; we're going hunting!”

Wei Wuxian's exclamation was welcomed by many voices, including a particularly enthusiastic one from Nie Huaisang; the boy had distanced himself a bit since Wei Wuxian had behaved like an asshole, but since he later was back to being even more cheerful and smiling than before, the other boy had gotten closer again. As everyone did, Jiang Cheng thought resentfully: he had yet to meet anyone immune to Wei Wuxian's natural charm.

He had just finished formulating that thought when he contradicted himself: Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren. Jiang Cheng had to remember even his mother, but since thinking about the relationship between her and Wei Wuxian made him uncomfortable, he preferred to focus on the other two: the Lans, uncle and nephew, the old stickler and the young stickler, as Wei Wuxian called them, they were, to say the least, intolerant towards him.

Again, as soon as Jiang Cheng finished answering himself, he was proven wrong; however, this time, someone else did it.

“Wei Ying.”

Even though that voice spoke in a perfectly composed tone, without raising it even slightly, it managed to silence the entire group of disciples. Nie Huaisang was speechless. And Jiang Cheng, although it was natural for him to hide his emotions, couldn't help but be equally disconcerted.

Lan Wangji, one of the Twin Jades of Lans and Lan Qiren's protégé, the boy was as cold as ice and equally immaculate, had just called his brother by his private name.

Dumbfounded, Jiang Cheng saw Wei Wuxian's face light up as he waved back at him. “Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed in turn. He had been using Lan Wangji's private name for a long time, but because he was Wei Wuxian: insolent, irreverent and brazen. That Lan Wangji imitated him was… inexplicable, strange, even wrong – not in itself, since there was nothing wrong with becoming close to someone, but because Wei Wuxian had never been anything but rude to Lan Wangji, so that cold and severe boy had no reason to indulge him.

Pessimistic, Jiang Cheng thought darkly that Lan Qiren would be furious with them Jiang because Wei Wuxian had managed to influence his irreproachable protégé negatively. And he was even more confused than before when they both did something that no one would have expected from them: Lan Wangji, who was known to hate physical contact, reached out and placed a hand on Wei Wuxian's forehead, gently brushing the messy locks of hair; while Wei Wuxian, the most sociable person that Jiang Cheng had ever had the misfortune of meeting, instead of reacting in an exasperated way, perhaps trying to put his arm around the other boy's shoulders, stiffened, tensing his shoulders while his smile faltered.

"I knew it," Lan Wangji said.

"What?" Nie Huaisang whispered, voicing Jiang Cheng's thoughts.

“You've been acting strangely since this morning, why didn't you immediately say you felt sick?”

In spite of himself, those words hit too close to home: Jiang Cheng hadn't noticed anything strange in his brother's behavior; not like that day a week ago, when Wei Wuxian had been truly far from his normal self: dark, silent and unfriendly. But the next day he was back to normal, so Jiang Cheng dismissed it as a mood swing.

Meanwhile, smiling again, Wei Wuxian dodged Lan Wangji's hand. “I'm touched by your concern,” he said cheerfully, “but really, I'm fine.”

"No, that's not true," he replied peremptorily. Then he did something that left them all even more shocked: he shook Wei Wuxian's hand in his. "Your forehead is hot, but your hands are cold" he continued critically, "this morning you blinked more than six times to focus on what was in front of you, moreover you almost knocked over the inkwell and you staggered twice before recovering the 'balance."

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing as if it were all very funny rather than absurd. He gave Lan Wangji a friendly pat on the shoulder. “We were going hunting,” he told him, brazenly evading his words; “I refuse to accept that there isn't even a pheasant around here.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes: he couldn't believe that idiot had casually admitted their intention to break the rules. When he opened them again, a frown had appeared on Lan Wangji's face; As exasperating as it was, at least this was normal. While it wasn't the fact that, instead of scolding them all severely, he ignored the question of the hunt so as not to change the subject.

"You should go and see our healers," he insisted.

“Really, there’s no need! I'm perfectly fit, fresh as a freshly picked peony."

“You have a fever.”

“Fine… I'm really, really touched by your concern, okay? But believe me: I'm not sick."

"That is a lie."

Wei Wuxian showed a hint of exasperation. "Lan Zhan..."

He gave him a nod. "Come on, I'll accompany you: you need to take something to lower your fever and rest.”

“I said I'm fine, dammit!”

Had he not been too shocked, Jiang Cheng might have been alarmed by the way Nie Huaisang had practically turned cyanotic; the other boys were torn between bewilderment and an inevitable curiosity, intrigued by that unprecedented spectacle: certainly no one had ever seen Lan Wangji in those guises and, although the others except Jiang Cheng had only known him for a short time, it was even more surprising to hear Wei Wuxian blurting out like that.

For a few moments silence fell; embarrassed for them and full of tension between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian; then, Wei Wuxian turned his back on him and walked away, his posture stiff and tense. "You come?" he asked Jiang Cheng dryly. By now he was so speechless that he forgot to be annoyed by the way Wei Wuxian had spoken to him. Jiang Cheng followed him; so, a little cautious, a little awkward, the other boys also joined them - probably because they had to consider the always smiling boy's bad mood as the lesser of evils compared to the prospect of being alone with Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng shot him a furtive glance: Lan Wangji remained motionless, rigid and apparently impassive; however, his expression was so intense that no one could ever believe him to be truly indifferent.

The walk to the woods just outside Clouds Recesses was an embarrassing affair; despite this, the culprit wasn't influenced: first because he had closed in his own thoughts; therefore, at a certain point, he just went back to being cheerful, almost as if he had shrugged off any emotion Lan Wangji's words had unloaded on his shoulders.

Jiang Cheng shot him a dirty look that Wei Wuxian, as usual, pretended not to notice. Jiang Cheng figured that must be what he did best, along with frivolously courting any girl who crossed his path, doing even more than he thought and getting into trouble. And always be the smartest and brightest of all.

Not only that: as much as it deeply irritated him to admit it, Jiang Cheng knew that Wei Wuxian was better at archery than he was – as children, practicing against the beautiful kites painted by their sister; growing up, going hunting.

For this reason, after seeing him blatantly miss the target, a little hare grazing on the grass without a single thought in the world, Jiang Cheng reasoned that Lan Wangji might have been right: Wei Wuxian wasn't well. And it made no sense that he was denying it so obstinately, given that normally, on the contrary, he was the type of sick person who sought the attention of others. It was also true, however, that in those cases Wei Wuxian had never really been sick; dragged into the water by the spirit of a drowned man, collapsed on the ground while escaping from a dog, fallen asleep under the scorching sun: he was just a fool who exaggerated a cold, grazed knees or a sunburn to be consoled by their sister.

Wei Wuxian sniffed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

Jiang Cheng snorted: he was impatient by nature, and, with Wei Wuxian, he was used to a relationship marked by constant barbs and challenges - supportive, close, but certainly not affectionate. He didn't hesitate before approaching him briskly, grabbing him by the arm and giving him a tug. “You really are an idiot,” he snapped, “why didn't you listen to Lan Wangji instead of being stubborn like a naughty child? Seriously, sometimes you're..."

Jiang Cheng didn’t have the opportunity to let him know what he thought of his behavior, because at that moment one of the other boys, from the other bank of a small stream, shouted that he had seen a pheasant; Wei Wuxian reacted instantly: he slipped out of Jiang Cheng’s grasp and pointed to where the boy's voice had been heard. “Did you hear?” he asked in a cheerful tone. “Come on, let's go!”

Jiang Cheng hated how damn quick he could be to escape; he had barely opened his mouth to tell him not to dare, threatening to unleash a whole pack of dogs on him if he so much as to move away, when Wei Wuxian had already reached the other bank with one leap. Jiang Cheng cursed as he would never have done within earshot of his parents.

Wei Wuxian would have deserved to collapse on the ground after having pushed himself beyond the limits of his body, absurdly not out of courage or dedication, but only out of stupidity, and remain there without anyone bothering to pick up his useless carcass. But, although continuing to curse under his breath, Jiang Cheng followed him.

Lan Zhan, who before meeting Wei Wuxian had had human relationships only with a mother who died too soon, an uncle who was too strict and a brother who was too busy - relationships that had always been characterized more by respect than by intimacy - had opened the door of his room to another boy in the last few days, night after night, waiting for Wei Wuxian to talk to him.

Lan Zhan would have lied by claiming to know in full consciousness what he was doing. He only knew that the morning after meeting that man, he had hoped that Wei Wuxian would approach him – and when that same evening the boy had knocked on his door, an expression carefully blank, so different from the cheerful one he already had returned to wear with everyone else, Lan Zhan had been relieved.

Acting instinctively as he had never thought himself capable of doing, Lan Zhan had let him in. It had been implied between them that they couldn't forget what Lan Zhan had heard; even more implicit, between his social inability and Wei Wuxian's silent resistance, that if the younger boy wanted to talk to him about things he had never told anyone else, he could have done so.

They had spent that first night in silence until Wei Wuxian had simply left at a certain point. The next day, in class, he laughed and confused the other disciples as usual.

At first, it seemed that the second night would unfold similarly: Lan Zhan had diligently started copying some ethical texts to mitigate the guilt of his ignored sleep schedules. All of a sudden, Wei Wuxian would rest his forehead between his shoulder blades, a barely perceptible touch that had made Lan Zhan stiffen. His first instinct had been to push him away, but he had stopped himself; later, when Wei Wuxian had started to speak, he had been relieved that he hadn't.

"Once, a man kicked me because I accidentally bumped into him, dirtying his clothes.”

He had said it calmly as if it were nothing important. And Lan Zhan had been so acutely aware of his weight that a thrill had shaken him to the core.

Afterwards, it was as if a crack had opened in a carefully sealed vessel. Sometimes Wei Wuxian had spoken in an astonished tone, as if he were the first to marvel at certain memories that had until now remained more or less consciously hidden in his mind. He continued to speak while remaining hidden behind Lan Zhan's back. He had respected that choice; he kneeled in front of the table strewn with papers, Wei Wuxian leaning against his back: in tacit agreement, they had chosen to always assume the same position.

Did you know that stealing clothes from dead bodies may be the only way to survive the winter?

No, no other man has touched me except him. I know you wanted to ask me this right away, Lan Zhan; seriously: you Lans will end up strangled with your self-control.

Putting too much chilli pepper in food is useful in suppressing hunger.

I really, really hate dogs. You must be crazy to want to keep a beast close to you that could bite you at any moment.

Once, I had just been welcomed by the Jiangs, Yu-furen caught me drawing a portrait of my parents. She tore it up admonishing me to never think about them again. Now I regret obeying her because I don’t remember their faces.

At first, Lan Zhan had thought it an impression; night after night, confession after confession, it had seemed to him that Wei Wuxian's body was growing hotter and hotter against his back. But that morning he had been sure that Wei Wuxian was sick. He had told him; had been rejected. So Lan Zhan had been waiting for him to return from the woods, knowing that he wouldn't do it on his own two feet.

And now Lan Zhan sighed as he saw Jiang Wanyin carrying his brother on his back. Walking towards them, he had to stifle the inappropriate instinct to snatch Wei Ying from his arms and be the one to hold him up.

“Hey, Lan Er-gege!” Wei Wuxian peeked out from behind Jiang Wanyin's head. Dishevelled, covered in broken twigs and small scratches on both his face and hands, he looked like he had tripped into a bramble bush. He waved his arms to get his attention as if Lan Zhan wasn't already staring at him. Jiang Wanyin cursed as he struggled to maintain his balance. “Behold the consequences of a valiant pursuit!”

"The pheasant won," the brother clarified dryly. His expression was livid to say the least.

“Come on, Jiang Cheng, don't ruin the scene for me!” he complained. “Don't you understand that I'm trying to impress Lan Er-gege?”

"Lan-er-gongzi is certainly not impressed by your antics!" the other boy snapped. He tried to throw him to the ground, but Wei Wuxian clung to his neck. “And leave me alone, you idiot!”

“No-o. I'm injured, I have the right to be carried."

“Ah, now you're sick.”

"Injured; not sick. Men get hurt; children get sick."

This time Jiang Wanyin managed to throw him to the ground. Lan Zhan clenched his jaw: he said and did nothing, but Jiang Wanyin must have sensed his disapproval, for he stiffened. There was a moment of tension between them, until Wei Wuxian began to complain loudly, exaggerating his protests to the point of making them hardly credible. Compared to that morning, his eyes were even brighter, now feverish, and his face was red. Without allowing him to resist any longer, Lan Zhan grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and forced him to go towards the healers' pavilion.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested; the boy tried to put his feet on the ground, but Lan Zhan was physically stronger than him even when they were both at full strength. He dragged him, ignoring the astonished looks he got from several Lan disciples as they crossed the courtyard. Lan Zhan hesitated only when he had the misfortune of crossing paths with his uncle; Lan Qiren had already expressed his disappointment towards the other boy several times, worried that he could negatively influence his grandchildren. Judging by his expression, he was thinking exactly this at that moment: Lan Zhan had finally fallen victim to Wei Wuxian's bad temperament.

"I'm taking him to see a healer," Lan Zhan explained stiffly.

“Yes, I can confirm.” Wei Wuxian didn't hesitate to agree with him.

The knowledge that he had spoken for him tightened a knot in Lan Zhan's stomach; Wei Wuxian was like this, always like this: apparently self-centred and childish, when necessary, he immediately put others before himself. Although, for who knows what reason, he continued to stubbornly rebel against the idea of being seen by a healer, he gave Lan Zhan reason without hesitation so as not to put him in a bad light with his uncle.

"You see, I'm sick, very sick," he reiterated to Lan Qiren, pointing to himself: "High fever, shaking hands, exhaustion: Lan Wangji was compassionate enough to accompany me to your honorable healers."

Lan Zhan saw his uncle narrow his eyes, surely irritated by all the hyperbole. He was about to reply, and judging by his persistent frown, he wasn't going to say anything kind, when Lan Zhan saw his brother appear as well.

"Bad luck always comes in pairs," Wei Wuxian murmured. Although he would never admit it, Lan Zhan slightly agreed with him.

At least Xichen was smiling – not that that meant much, since he always was friendly, affable and kind, everything that Lan Zhan wasn't. In recent days he had often wondered if Wei Wuxian would have been happier dealing with the eldest of the Lan brothers. The very act of asking himself such questions was unfamiliar territory for Lan Zhan, even more so because he had never, ever felt inadequate towards his brother before.

Xichen's smile turned amused. "It's a good thing that Wangji made friends with someone his age, isn't it?" he said to their uncle.

“Of all people, him?”

Lan Qiren had blurted out those words so instinctively that, immediately afterwards, he was the first to look stunned. A disciple behind them let out a chuckle which, at the quick glare of an older boy, he stifled by pressing his hands over his mouth. Xichen coughed: "It's well known that opposites are made to attract," he commented, diplomatic as always.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. "Yin," he said, still pointing at himself, "and Jiang," he pointed at Lan Zhan. "But I swear I don't wear black for this reason! Oh, well, even if that would make me the feminine part? Nah, it doesn't suit me. Instead, I think the Honorable Lan Qiren agrees that, between the two of us, I definitely represent the negative."

He said this with a hint of malice that would have surprised Lan Zhan if, in recent days, he had not learned that he could be very prickly if provoked in the wrong way and at the wrong time. Lan Zhan saw his uncle's neck turn purple, but, certainly still resentful of himself for the previous comment, unjustifiable even beyond the rigid courtesy of the Lans, he ignored that provocation. “Lan Yun returned this morning,” he said to Lan Zhan, referring to their chief healer. “Take Wei Ying to him.”

Before Wei Wuxian could say anything else inappropriate, Lan Zhan took advantage of his uncle's leave to drag him away. He began to resist again, kicking and protesting loudly, but eventually let himself be carried dead weight – whether because he had run out of energy or to explore a new type of troublesome behavior, Lan Zhan couldn't figure out.

“You know that really wasn't necessary, right?” Wei Wuxian asked once Lan Zhan had pushed him into the healers' pavilion.

"And you know that's not true," he replied without changing his expression. Looking at Wei Wuxian's one would have said that having thought he would win due to exhaustion, he was exasperated by the granite wall built by Lan Zhan.

But even someone like him, faced with a healer who politely asked him to uncover his chest to be examined, had to obey. He sat down on a stool and took off his clothes with a sigh; to hear him, one would have thought he was a victim of Lan Zhan's arrogance.

“Okay, okay: do with me what you want” he sighed again.

The healer smiled indulgently, assuring him that Lan Yun would be there soon. He was standing in front of the boy, looking at his face with some amusement. It was likely that, as a healer, he was used to dealing with the little Lans, for whom when sick there was no self-control or precepts they held.

Lan Zhan, standing behind him, had stiffened: Wei Wuxian's back was an expanse of pale skin under which beautiful, agile muscles rippled. However, it was marred by several scars; they were whipped marks, he assessed coldly. They could have been the result of disciplinary action, but to leave such marks they must have been repeated over time.

Lan Zhan thought that Wei Wuxian had put up all that resistance to hide those wounds, but he had to change his mind when the boy stretched his arms above his head like a lazy cat; now resigned, he sat bare-chested with absolute indifference. When Lan Yun arrived, he greeted him respectfully with a nod; the man was older than Lan Qiren, with a kind and patient look. He chuckled when Wei Wuxian pointed out that he had been brought there for no reason.

All he had to do was keep his hands hovering above the boy's chest, releasing a moderate amount of spiritual power, to take on a much more serious look. “After all, you're not here by mistake, right?” he said. “Frankly, I'm surprised you're still conscious; your temperature is very high.”

Lan Zhan had to silence the completely inappropriate impulse to exclaim that he had said so.

Wei Wuxian, pouting, skillfully kept himself within the bounds of rudeness – no, he wasn't implying that he considered them stupid or annoying, but his determination not to take them seriously was still clear. He kept a carefully light expression both as Lan Yun laid him down on a bed and after the man placed both palms on his chest. "It's strange" the healer murmured after a few seconds, “your body doesn't present any symptoms, it almost seems like it's an imbalance of your spiritual qi.”

Finally, Lan Zhan understood; understood Wei Wuxian's obstinacy, his refusal which had almost led to hostility: knowing himself, he had immediately suspected that it was his mind that was in pain, not his body - as if the effort he was making to tell things about which he had never spoken of before, of which for years he had put aside, perhaps hidden, the simple memory, had been stirring within him, resulting in a physical alteration. And he couldn't stand it. Wei Wuxian didn't have the conceit of talented people, but he was as foolish as someone who preferred to appear arrogant rather than show the slightest weakness.

"Yes, well, I tried in every way to tell you” Lan Zhan heard him sigh.

"That doesn't mean you're not sick," Lan Zhan scolded him categorically.

“Questionable.”

“Why are you…!”

Lan Yun saved Lan Zhan from blurting out in exasperation. “Now, get dressed,” he said to Wei Wuxian in the calm, patient tone one might expect from a grandfather, “today I would prefer you to stay here to check your condition.” He didn't seem willing to talk about the scars. Lan Zhan was dissatisfied, but since Wei Wuxian didn't complain about those orders - well, not too much - he preferred not to stir up another hornet's nest, for now, glad that the boy was in the healers' hands.

As the sun went down, Wei Wuxian's fever had risen. Lan Zhan, after a frugal dinner and a nod of approval from his brother, had returned to his bedside; sitting with his back straight next to the bed where Wei Wuxian lay in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, he stared at his flushed face. Wei Wuxian had been unconscious for a long time.

Lan Yun appeared less calm than he had been in the afternoon. Lan Zhan heard him tell Lan Qiren that if the boy's temperature didn't drop during the night, they should consider warning Jiang Fengmian: Wei-gongzi cultivation is very powerful; therefore, I wouldn't say there is any urgency to worry... however some fever peaks that are too high can be dangerous.

Was it his fault…? Lan Zhan couldn't help but think about it. If he hadn't listened to something that wasn't his business, Wei Wuxian wouldn't have felt so pressured. But no, he rejected that idea: it was irrational, it was against the rules; it was written among the three thousand Lan precepts that lying, both to others and to oneself, was wrong. He shouldn't have eavesdropped on someone else's conversation, and for this he had already punished himself by remaining kneeling in the contemplation room for an entire night, but couldn't he regret having given Wei Wuxian the opportunity - the obligation? – to open up.

Hesitantly, Lan Zhan reached out a hand. He gently brushed a few sweaty locks of hair from Wei Wuxian's forehead; his breathing was labored, his lips parted and his chest rising and falling too quickly. Lan Zhan caressed the boy's cheek with the back of his hand before he jerked it away, feeling embarrassed and guilty. It felt like his fingers were burning, and not because of Wei Wuxian's fever.

Suddenly, all too aware that they were alone in the room, the healers still outside eating their meal, Lan Zhan clenched his fists above his knees.

He wanted to leave, but the part of himself that didn't want to abandon Wei Wuxian was even stronger – strong and irrational since it was absurd to put it in such terms if the boy was sleeping in the healers' pavilion. Before meeting him, Lan Zhan had never been irrational.

Finally, he took up his guqin that he always carried with him. He played a few notes experimentally, barely touching the strings. Maybe it was an impression, but it seemed to him that Wei Wuxian had relaxed down upon hearing them.

Immersed in the strange feeling that it was only the two of them in the world, Lan Zhan continued to play for him until evening came.

Chapter Text

They hadn’t needed to call for Jiang Fengmian since Wei Wuxian's temperature never exceeded a certain threshold; however, his fever reached a stalemate: without becoming truly dangerous, it refused to be driven away by the Lan remedies, as if it were something alive that had clung to him.

After three days, Jiang Wanyin also began to look openly worried. He also started shooting dirty looks at Lan Zhan, as if he considered his presence at Wei Wuxian's bedside a sign of guilt. If it hadn't been true, at least in part, Lan Zhan would have felt very offended.

He remained convinced that he hadn't made a mistake, that if anything Wei Wuxian had always hurt himself by harboring too many memories that troubled him, but in a simple and pragmatic, incontrovertible way, if Lan Zhan hadn't urged him to bring order within himself, now he wouldn't have been unconscious in a bed in the healers' pavilion.

His uncle wasn't keen on him spending every free moment playing for Wei Wuxian, but his brother had managed to coax him as always, with a smile and suggesting a different, more tolerable perspective. It wasn't even a lie that Lan Zhan was practicing the guqin.

That day they were alone, because the other regular visitors had stayed elsewhere: Nie Huaisang, terrified by a threatening letter from his brother, was barricaded in his room studying; Jiang Wanyin, who had also received a letter that morning, was in a bad mood because his father had suggested coming to Cloud Recesses even without being called, only because he was worried about Wei Wuxian. The last time Lan Zhan had seen him, he had been irritably kicking pebbles outside the healers' pavilion, unable to bring himself to enter.

The last few days Wei Wuxian would only wake up even reluctantly, to feed himself, even more listlessly, indolent and grumpy like Lan Zhan never thought he would see him, even when sick. The previous evening, when Lan Yun had insisted that he swallow some more soup, Wei Wuxian had lashed out at him – then he had widened his eyes and stammered an apology, mortified. Lan Yun, ever patient and kind, had simply handed him the plate again.

At lunch, that day, not even the man had been able to rouse Wei Wuxian from his restless sleep long enough to eat anything. Feeling helpless, Lan Zhan had also fasted and diligently continued to play for him. It had seemed that they would remain that way until the evening, until Lan Yun's arrival for dinner, but the sun's rays were still the warm ones of early afternoon when Lan Zhan was surprised to see him open his eyes.

“Wei Ying,” he called, immediately stopping playing. The lunch soup was still there, now cold. “Even if you're not hungry, you should force yourself to eat,” he told him. Lan Zhan realized that compared to Lan Yun's kindness, his words sounded cold and impersonal. It wasn't his intention, but he didn't know how else to express himself.

Wei Wuxian looked at him with a dazed expression; then, regaining greater lucidity, he parted his lips and whispered something that Lan Zhan didn't hear. It was the first time in days that Wei Wuxian had spoken to him. That's why Lan Zhan did something he shouldn't have done: he leaned towards him inappropriately, their faces almost touching. Wei Wuxian's breath was warm against his lips.

“What did you say?” Lan Zhan asked him, lowering his voice.

Wei Wuxian hugged the pillow and buried his face in it.

“I miss Baba and A-Niang,” he murmured again.

Lan Zhan stiffened and, if he hadn't been mean, as well as forbidden by the rule of not feigning ignorance, he almost thought it would have been better to continue not understanding. Wei Wuxian's eyes were watery, so it would have been easy to dismiss his words as feverish delirium. They probably really were. However… they affected Lan Zhan in a way he couldn't ignore.

“I miss my mother too,” he whispered. His heart was beating faster. He was ashamed, aware of how childish it was to express such a desire at his age and without the excuse of fever; at the same time, he looked at Wei Wuxian waiting for something he gave him.

Although staggering, Wei Wuxian immediately sat up and looked at him as only his brother did, but without the filters that even a good and kind person like Xichen had with him: a raw concern, a pure and sincere pain.

“I'm sorry,” he said. Lan Zhan skipped a beat when Wei Wuxian placed a hand on his cheek, but he didn't pull away. Even though the boy's palm was cold, his caress was unbearably gentle.

Then Wei Wuxian tilted his head with confusion and a hint of concern. "And don't you miss your father?" he asked.

Lan Zhan blinked. “My father isn't dead,” he said. It was strange to realize that for the world it was as if he were. But not for him and Xichen, of course. Just because they hadn't met him for years and years, didn't mean their father wasn't there. And you couldn't miss anyone who was there. “He went into seclusion after my mother died,” Lan Zhan explained to Wei Wuxian.

Even though his reactions were slowed by the fever, Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow in an unmistakable frown.

“Did he leave you and your brother alone?” he asked. Wei Wuxian seemed frustrated by his inability to pronounce more complex sentences, but, to be honest, it was already surprising to Lan Zhan that he was able to formulate coherent thoughts under these conditions. Even if his accusation made him frown in turn.

"He didn't leave us. He's here in Cloud Recesses", he corrected Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian snorted; “therefore…..” he tried to speak again but was seized by a fit of dry cough. After a brief hesitation, Lan Zhan rubbed a hand on his back to help him calm down. “Don't waste your breath,” he scolded.

Deaf to his perfectly reasonable advice, Wei Wuxian urged him while his voice was still hoarse.

"Your father isolated himself", the boy blurted out ", He left you. You were just a child, and you had just lost your mother. You were a child and he..."

It seemed like every word was costing him a lot of effort, but his eyes were shining with something other than fever: he was angry. Wei Wuxian was angry at who knows what, he was convinced Lan Zhan had suffered.

He had just begun to understand that Wei Wuxian was the kind of person who got angry for others, never for himself.

"He hasn't left us," Lan Zhan repeated, starting to feel foolish. After all, it was the truth. His father was there, in Cloud Recesses.

Wei Wuxian glared at him. "It's not right that he put his pain before his children. A family... a family shares everything, especially pain. A family doesn't abandon you," he stated. Despite his hoarse and fragile voice, his words hit Lan Zhan like boulders.

Lan Zhan clenched his fists above his knees. “A family doesn't even leave scars on your back,” he found himself snapping; the words found voice before he could press his lips together to hold them back. Already troubled by this, Lan Zhan tensed further when Wei Wuxian burst into humorless laughter.

“I know,” he said simply. Then: "I'm not stupid, you know. My Shijie is wonderful, I love and respect Uncle Jiang, Jiang Cheng is my Shidi, but I know they aren't my family. Yu-furen has always made it extremely clear that I am the reason why their family doesn't function as well as it should. Taking even the whippings that the other disciples are spared is a way of underlining that it would have been better for everyone if I had died along with my parents."

Lan Zhan was horrified. "But then why..."

"Why don't I leave? You surprise me, Lan Zhan: Are you really talking about ingratitude? My life would not be enough to repay the debt of gratitude I owe to the Jiangs; I have a duty to become Jiang Cheng's right-hand man and support him."

Lan Zhan was speechless. It wasn't the first time he was secretly unsure of what to say, but previously his insecurity had never been due to the fear of hurting someone. Yet, his hands moved on their own, just as his tongue had done before, when he heard the last words Wei Wuxian whispered: "I'm fine, really. Although sometimes… I miss having a family."

Lan Zhan hugged him instinctively. The first hug of his life was awkward, too rigid on his part, not very receptive on the part of a Wei Wuxian stunned by both fever and disbelief; one of them was sweating, the other had cold skin from discomfort. However, once he had overcome the shock, Wei Wuxian immediately settled into his arms, anxious, eager, almost as if Lan Zhan's disastrous hug was something to aspire to.

“Lan Er-gege, aren't you breaking any rules?” Wei Wuxian crooned; his hoarse voice made the jaunty tone less believable.

“Yes,” Lan Zhan replied.

“I'm amazed: do you really think it's worth going against your precious rules for someone like me?”

Lan Zhan took on a harder and more determined look: "Yes," he reiterated. Then he added: "Wei Ying is not “someone like me”, if there is anyone for whom it is right to bend the rules, it's him."

Even though Wei Wuxian had thought of retorting - and, if he wanted, he could have provoked him plenty after this, in the end he said nothing. Lan Zhan was grateful, as his ears were already burning. The silence that fell between them was strange, neither awkward nor comfortable, inexplicably intimate, as if there was a deep and natural acceptance between them.

Lan Zhan felt Wei Wuxian's tears before he saw them; they dripped onto his neck, making him shiver. Despite his exuberant nature, Wei Wuxian's crying was found to be terribly silent: just tears falling and shoulders shaking. His wet face was hot in the crook of Lan Zhan's neck. Anguished by the thought that his physical condition could worsen, Lan Zhan held him to transmit his warmth.

At least he could express in this way the feelings that he felt more than ever unfit to convey in words. Did he mind? Yes, of course, he was sorry because the situation Wei Wuxian lived in was neither normal nor acceptable, regardless of what he said. Was he angry? With some amazement, Lan Zhan realized that he was unquestionably angry at a family he had never even met – which broke at least half a dozen rules, but why would he hold onto those bad feelings towards someone who deserved them? Even more unjustifiable was mistreating a boy, previously a child, entrusted to one's care. A boy who had already been through so much.

Lan Zhan thought back to how Wei Wuxian had so easily messed up his aseptic existence, twisting his feelings with the fury of a storm: how brilliant, positive, fair and always smiling he was. Understanding that he managed to be that person despite his life having been a constant test since he was a child, filled him with an emotion that made his heart tremble.

Lan Zhan admired him and was fascinated by him; he wanted that boy to smile and talk and continue to exasperate his calm life; he wanted Wei Wuxian's bright gray eyes to rest on no one else; Lan Zhan wanted him like he had never wanted anyone, in a way he still struggled to understand. He hadn't thought he was capable of such a greedy feeling.

Wei Wuxian cried until he was too tired to shed any more tears; later, when he fell asleep in his arms, Lan Zhan continued to hold him close, reluctant to part with the warm weight of his body. He had grown up hating physical contact but had now accepted that Wei Wuxian represented an unexplored world.

In the end, it was as if, along with the tears, Wei Wuxian had also expelled the fever from his body; already that evening Lan Yun announced with relief that his temperature was finally dropping, while the next morning, at his plaintive insistence, he was allowed to leave the healers' pavilion.

Jiang Cheng was relieved; Nie Huaisang overjoyed; the other disciples were happy and noisy to have him back in class.

Lan Zhan, not knowing how to do otherwise, did nothing but nod at the boy when he sat down next to him, disheveled as always. The smile Wei Wuxian gave him was blinding.

Since he had cried himself to sleep the day before, their talk had gotten no real closure. It was clear Lan Zhan was happy that Wei Wuxian had regained control of himself, both his mind and his body, but he couldn't help but wonder if everything was really okay. Besides, it was a little… disappointing, that the most painfully honest conversation of his life, something that Lan Zhan would surely remember forever, had been forgettable for Wei Wuxian.

Lan Zhan believed this until, two days later, panic broke out in Cloud Recesses when the abode of the noble clan leader in isolation was invaded by a horde of dead chickens, already plucked and headless, which mysterious talismans of unknown origin made run walking around like possessed.

They were in class when a Lan disciple burst in to inform Lan Qiren. Incredulous, Lan Zhan glanced at Wei Wuxian. He, without shame, smiled at him full of mischievous innocence. Lan Zhan let out a snort of laughter; even though he put his hand to his mouth with the expression of someone who had committed a deadly crime, Wei Wuxian looked at him and burst into laughter. Of course, Lan Qiren thundered at him to be quiet, but didn't accuse him of being the culprit of the demonic chickens. Lan Zhan must have really gone mad if, at this, his first thought was one of dissatisfaction, since he was displeased that Wei Wuxian's inventive genius wasn't receiving the right recognition. Although in this case the aforementioned recognition would have entailed more months of punishment and, perhaps, if his uncle's patience had reached the limit, the call to Jiang Fengmian with the intimation to come and take back his head disciple.

The part of Lan Zhan that hated the idea of Wei Wuxian leaving turned out to be stronger than the serious and honest part that should have denounced the boy's guilt. To punish himself, over the next week Lan Zhan copied all of his sect's ethics texts ten times. And only five days later Wei Wuxian still managed to have the clan leader summoned for starting a fight with the Jin heir.

It was decided that Wei Wuxian would return to Yunmeng, effectively becoming the first failure in Lan Qiren's impeccable career. "Lan Zhan, please forget it: I swear everything is fine" the boy told him in a calm, measured tone, when Lan Zhan approached him to talk to him. Who knows how, while he was kneeling and reflecting on his actions, Wei Wuxian had managed to get his hands and face dirty.

"It's not fine," Lan Zhan replied annoyed. He didn't want to – could he? - ask his uncle to let Wei Wuxian stay there with them, but still he couldn't bear the idea of him returning to a house where mistreatment was disguised as disciplinary action. It wasn't right; at least Lan Zhan was sure of this.

Without answering, Wei Wuxian patted him on the shoulder as if Lan Zhan were a child and he an indulgent adult. It was very offensive, yet Lan Zhan had to wonder if there was some truth to it; if Wei Wuxian, always so playful and irreverent, wasn't more mature than him, of maturity understood as an acceptance of life and the consequent ability to compromise: Wei Wuxian was assuring him that he was able to handle Yu-furen and her whip , even if it meant walking a tightrope between commitment and attention not to shine too much.

“I'll be fine,” he assured him with a smile.

Lan Zhan, although still deeply dissatisfied, released a sigh of surrender. "You will write to me,” he said then.

"Lan Zhan! Are you asking me to maintain some correspondence with you?”

"Yes."

Lan Zhan didn't pay attention to the fact that he had managed to silence Wei Wuxian. “At least one letter a week,” he instructed him sternly, “two, if possible. And I will always answer you." He left it implicit that this mutual commitment had no expiration date: they would continue to write to each other until one of them decided otherwise, and this was made even more obvious, Lan Zhan would never be the one to break the promise.

Wei Wuxian squared his shoulders, as if he had accepted a challenge. “Two letters a week,” he confirmed.

“Mh.”

“And know that I will never end the correspondence first.”

"Me neither."

“So, we will continue to write to each other forever.”

Lan Zhan murmured his approval again. The smile that Wei Wuxian suddenly gave him was so sunny that it tightened a not entirely unpleasant knot in his stomach, but Lan Zhan still managed to maintain a serious expression. “It's a promise,” he said solemnly.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing, his arms crossed behind his head. However, his eyes, while brighter than usual, clearly happy and playful, were also acutely aware. Lan Zhan wondered how some couldn't understand how intelligent he was. Wei Wuxian held out a hand. “It's a promise,” he replied.

Lan Zhan didn't think about the fact that they were the common people who sealed an agreement in that crude way: he reached out his hand and shook Wei Wuxian's with determination.

He didn't know where all this would lead him, where this would lead them. But as he touched Wei Wuxian's now pleasantly cool palm, Lan Zhan thought that this was a choice he would never regret.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying

I hope your trip home was without issue.

I urge you to let me know if Yu-furen wounded you due to the breakdown of her daughter's engagement.

Dear Lan Zhan

Hi, Wei Ying; I am happy to write to you, Wei Ying; I miss you, Wei Ying.

I think this part of your letter has been lost along the way.

Wei Ying

No part of my previous letter was lost.

Dear Lan Zhan

Remind me that I must teach you that bizarre human custom called "joking."

I think it's appropriate to start over, also because your uncle would be furious if he found out we were wasting paper and precious time. In this regard, I have sketched out some plans for letters imbued with spiritual Qi that I can send more easily.

You will be the first to receive the prototypes of this invention of mine; So, I apologize in advance if one day a flock of paper birds follows you everywhere.

Oh, I almost forgot: I didn't think you would ever really have written to me "Dear Wei Ying." Be aware that you risk having my poor heart on consciousness. What would you have done if I had died because of the emotion?

Dear Wei Ying

Do you continue to avoid my question: Did Yu-furen hurt you?

Dear Lan Zhan

I would tell you that I admire your iron determination not to give up, if it wasn't that it reminds me of the way the dogs used to bite my clothes and refused to let me go.

Yes, the broken engagement made Yu-furen furious. Yes, I took a dose of Zidan. No, I will not die for this and, frankly, I would have already forgotten if you hadn't insisted so much.

Let's talk about serious things. Have you heard about the archery tournament? The Wens are planning it for next autumn. Just in conjunction with the end of what would also have been my year of study in Gusu. Jiang Cheng will just have time to go home, and immediately we will have to leave again.

I'm not sorry to have punched that stupid peacock, but it's a shame having missed the opportunity to train with you. I bet you are good with the arch as in everything you do.

Dear Wei Ying

There is nothing more serious than your safety and well-being. And since you seem unable to worry about yourself, I decided that I will be worried about you.

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.

Seriously. My heart.

Dear Wei Ying

If you have heart problems, I urge you to visit a healer.

Dear Lan Zhan

Have you just made a joke?

Dear Wei Ying

Yes, I did it. And I am also continuing to waste paper for letters that are not letters. Shufu would get angry. I have already copied several rules to warn myself, but for the first time I did it without thinking I was wrong. I think Wei Ying is more important. I think worrying about Wei Ying is the right thing.

Dear Lan Zhan

The archery tournament.

No, I'm not ignoring your concern. Really, I know that I always act like an idiot; Jiang Cheng reproaches me continuously for this; But believe me, I took so many days to answer you precisely because I didn't want to risk telling you the wrong thing.

I'm sorry, I still don't know what to write.

If we were together, I could look at your red ears and make fun of you, so everything would be easier for me. No, no, I'm being an idiot again, aren't I? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lan Zhan. Sometimes I almost think I have deceived you; I approached you as a happy idiot and now I feel like I've become a depressing idiot.

So, the archery tournament. Let's talk about this, okay? I know that there is a long time left before the event, the lotus flowers will have time to bloom, give me a lot of seeds to eat and then wither before we can see each other again on this occasion. But I like to think about it. Do you like to think about it, Lan Zhan?

Dear Wei Ying

I like to think of seeing Wei Ying again.

I shouldn't

No. It wouldn’t be right to tear this letter. Lying is forbidden, so I feel obliged to explain that my brother peeked while I wrote the first words and, inappropriately, I dare say, he enjoyed himself. I apologize if for this reason the letter will come crumpled to you. I have already punished myself for my completely unjustifiable emotional reaction.

He also said we shouldn't necessarily wait for the tournament to meet again. No, I'm not talking about your repeated and frivolous invitations: as much as I would be happy to visit Lotus Pier, my brother admitted that Shufu wouldn't be happy if the Jiangs formally invited me right now.

However, Xiongzhang asked me to accompany him to a night hunt that will take place not far from Yunmeng. Maybe Wei Ying could take part in it?

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!

Of course I will be there! As a head disciple I could participate in any night hunt without any supervision. Also, with you I will be frank, Yu-furen would be happy if I would get out of her sight for at least a few days. Well, she would be even happier if I died while hunting. Think, Lan Zhan: if you happen to save me, not that I foresee that you need it, let's be clear, you will deny the desires of an honest noblewoman. What do you say, could you even go against one of your rules?

 Dear Wei Ying

There is no Lan rule that obliges us to satisfy the immoral desires of a petty woman.

 Lan Zhan!

You are just full of surprises; I never thought I'd hear you badmouthing anyone. And if now you replied that they are facts, not rumors, I would kneel in front of your brazenness.

Ah, Lan Zhan, I miss you so much!

Dear Wei Ying

This letter of mine will come to Lotus Pier after we have returned from the night hunt. My brother and I will leave tomorrow at dawn. With these premises it would be useless to send it, but since we were children Xiongzhang exhorts me to do unnecessary things, sometimes even commenting that they can prove to be the most important.

You will read this letter after I have already said goodbye to you again. I know I am not good at communicating my emotions, not like Wei Ying who is clear as the surface of a mountain stream. But it's easier to express yourself through writing. It's easier to express what I would like and that I hardly think I will be able to tell you when we see each other.

I'm glad I ran into Wei Ying. I immediately understood that in my life you would have been a violent gust of wind, like a storm - wind and water; Wei Ying is all that in nature is cleaner, powerful, flexible and generous. At the beginning I was scared and reacted by rejecting you. But you have not given up getting closer to me, and I am also grateful for this.

Nobody can know what will happen in the future. Not even the gods. However, now I would like to tell you this: from today and in the future, I will never give up Wei Ying.

Yours sincerely,

 Lan Zhan.