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Wei Wuxian comes to him in a dream—looking absolutely like the imbecile Jiang Cheng remembers him to be.
It is often said, after all, that dreams are a gateway to a realm that is neither of this world, nor the underworld; instead it is suspended in a thin space where spirits and the living are allowed to meet.
And, well, you never really know with these things. Lingering resentment and regret were often the cause of vengeful spirits remaining on this earth even upon their death, chasing after dreams, persons and wishes that they never got to fulfil while they were still alive. Considering what transpired between him and Wei Wuxian, or the rest of the cultivation world really, there remained plenty of motivation for the man’s soul to persist in this cruel world; perhaps even haunt his former junior martial brother in a bid to seek recompense.
So he is not overly surprised when, nearly thirteen years after his death, Wei Wuxian floats rather unceremoniously into one of his dreams, his pale face littered with light scars, faint red lines, and brutal claw marks. The red ribbon in his long, dishevelled hair—still so prominent, even in death. But even though his white cheeks are absent of blood, and he looks like the living dead, the bright glimmer in his silver eyes is unmistakable.
It’s the Wei Wuxian he (not) so fondfully recognises, and knows.
“A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian calls for him so sweetly, his two hands pressed together in a prayer, like it’s supposed to do anything. “This humble one comes to you with a request.”
Oh, hell no. “Not over your dead body,” Jiang Cheng answers with much bite, turning away. He’s pleasantly pleased with himself for the pun, though. Because, get it? Wei Wuxian’s already dead.
“Please, please, please, you haven’t even heard me out!” Wei Wuxian begs, tailing after him in what little ghostly apparition of himself he can conjure. The poor fool doesn’t even have legs, Jiang Cheng notes with a loud scoff. The lower half of his body tapers off in wisps of black smoke, giving him a much more comical—and totally absurd—appearance in comparison to most ghosts. Even in the afterlife, Wei Wuxian seeks to make himself look more of a mockery, than anything else.
(But well, what Sect Leader Jiang does not know cannot hurt him. The smoke hides the results of Wei Wuxian’s grisly fate pretty well—that is, one of being torn apart, limb by limb, by angry corpses and ghouls he’d failed to control, until he’d finally succumbed to his horrific death.)
“I fear for the nonsensical things will leave your mouth,” Jiang Cheng huffs back.
“Aiyah, A-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian says, flitting anxiously to his left—then right—then left—then right, each time Jiang Cheng actively turns his face away to avoid meeting eyes with the ghost. “It’s a simple request! Just lend me your body for a day!”
Jiang Cheng knew nothing good would leave those lips of his.
He doesn’t even ask for a reason. He just informs him rather curtly, “No.” and turns away again, the silver clarity bell jiggling from his waist sash as he does so.
“A-Cheng, I know much has gone down between us,” Wei Wuxian mournfully says, a glistening tear in his eye (and where had that tear come from? How is Wei Wuxian still so dramatic even after death?). “But I miss everyone! I miss all my juniors at Yunmeng Jiang sect, I’ve missed out on all the years of A-Ling growing up, I even miss Huaisang, Xichen-ge, Mingjue-ge, and…”
Jiang Cheng folds his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. He already clearly sees where this is going. “And?”
“...And Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cries out, though the pink at the tips of his ears are obvious. Huh. So ghosts are capable of blushing, too. “How is Lan er gege faring without me? He must be so handsome now, right? How many fair maidens from prominent sects have sent forth marriage proposals by now? I’m sure he must have received so many, is he wedded yet…”
He knew it. “Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng yaps, snapping his ex-martial brother right out of that ridiculous daydream of him. The ghost startles with a jolt, blinking right at him. “Did you come to me in a dream, after these thirteen years, just for a chance to see that—that man again?!”
Wei Wuxian’s lips curl, sulkingly. “A-Cheng! If you never grant me this wish, I fear I will never be able to move on from this world!”
Jiang Cheng can detect a thinly veiled threat when he’s presented with one. “If I do not let you possess me, for one day,” he perfectly enunciates each word, the horror of such a reality quickly dawning unto him. “You will haunt me every night, until I do so?”
Wei Wuxian furiously nods, looking more annoying than threatening, really. “Mn!!!!!”
As hot-headed and reluctant Jiang Cheng is, he is no fool. He would rather one day of body possession over a potential lifetime of misery, because there is no way in hell he is enduring even one more night of Wei Wuxian pestering him in his dreams like this. What did a man have to do to get a good night’s sleep around here?! Besides, after this, Wei Wuxian’s removal from this world was practically guaranteed. He would never bother Jiang Cheng ever again.
He would finally be someone else’s problem! Jiang Cheng would have his hands wiped clean off of him!
“There will be ground rules,” Jiang Cheng warns him, with piercing violet eyes. “You can’t do anything inappropriate. No physical intimacy! Also, I reserve the right to resume control of my body, if I see you trying anything… fishy.”
“Oh, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian fans himself with feigned shyness, with his long, slender, ghastly hands. “Do you think of me as such a harlot? Physical intimacy? Of course I won’t do anything too overboard! My A-Cheng is a virgin, I can’t possibly scandalise your maiden eyes like this!”
Jiang Cheng raises his hand, ready to crack his whip. “One more word, and you don’t get to possess even a single strand of this body.”
“Alright, alright! Your body is a temple, and a wonderland,” Wei Wuxian jumps up, in much excitement. “I won’t defile it! I promise! A-Cheng, even after all this time, you’re still the best shidi!”
“Leave,” Jiang Cheng growls. Wei Wuxian merely grins.
And so, a bargain is struck between them.
It’s a fair deal, the sect leader thinks. Just this once, and then he will be gone forever.
After all, whatever could go so wrong in a single day?
(—were Sect Leader Jiang’s famous last words.)
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When Jiang Cheng regains his consciousness, it’s not by his choice, no. It’s by Wei Wuxian’s.
“It worked,” Wei Wuxian gasps, after peeling his eyes open and waking up to the familiar ceiling of Jiang Cheng’s room. He holds up both hands into the air, and gleefully flexes them open—and then close. Open, and then close. “It worked! I’m finally back again!”
Only for a day, Jiang Cheng warns him, in his head. While he has relinquished full control of his body to Wei Wuxian, his soul still lingers inside, and his consciousness still remains. Should anything happen, Jiang Cheng still harbours the ability to push himself to the forefront, and force Wei Wuxian’s soul back in. Besides, there is always zidian that Jiang Cheng can fall back upon. He’s not nervous about a permanent body possession, at all. Just one good whip, and Wei Wuxian’s spirit will fall out, right where it belongs.
“I know, I know!” Wei Wuxian sighs back. “Let me enjoy it while I can, okay?!”
Wei Wuxian flings the covers right off of him, and hops right out of bed. He’s bursting with much pent-up energy, and stretching all of his limbs, basking in the feeling of having a fully pieced together, mortal form again.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this!”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer. And if Wei Wuxian happens to feel a slight pang in his chest right at that very moment, he doesn’t mention it, either.
Wei Wuxian does the mandatory: he washes up, changes into formal robes befitting a sect leader, wears them much looser than normal for comfort, then sits down before the dressing table, and starts brushing through his wet hair.
“A-Cheng, your hair is so tangled,” Wei Wuxian chides, as he struggles with a comb. “You can’t put it in a top knot all the time, you know? Hasn’t shijie taught you anything?”
But the mention of shijie heavily dampens the mood thereafter, and when Jiang Cheng further keeps his silence, Wei Wuxian catches a hint.
Since it is his day, after all, Wei Wuxian decides to abandon the top knot, and go with the long ponytail he’s much more used to. And, just to be a little cheeky, he braids a singular portion of his hair. He ties all of it with a dark purple ribbon, since his red one isn’t available (or, well, had been clawed off and trampled into dust).
Wei Wuxian looks into the bronze mirror, and pulls up a huge smile. “All better now! Just like before!”
I don’t smile like that, Jiang Cheng grumpily tells him.
“But I do!” Wei Wuxian says back. “And today, I’m me.”
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A disciple tumbles into the room, and asks if Sect Leader Jiang is ready to go.
“Where are we going?” Wei Wuxian asks, curiously.
“Sect Leader! It’s Young Master Jin’s birthday!” the disciple responds nervously, and with much confusion. He stares at Sect Leader Jiang’s get-up for today, finding it… a tad bit reminiscent of a senior martial brother, long gone. “All sects will gather at Carp Tower to celebrate!”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes flare wide open. Oh. Oh. Oh! It’s the perfect opportunity!
To finally see his nephew, his old friends, and even—even his beloved Lan er gege!
No, Jiang Cheng screams from the depths of his mind, when he realises this. No, no, no, no! He’d completely forgotten about this! Trust Wei Wuxian to return on Jin Ling’s sacred day of birth!
Not this way! Not today! Wei Wuxian, you be on your best behaviour, or I’ll crucify you, understood?!
Putting on his sternest, grim-faced expression, and the deepest voice he can conjure, Wei Wuxian bellows out to the boy, “Good. I will be out in a moment.”
The disciple closes the door, and Wei Wuxian lets out the most sinister laugh.
I will kill you, Jiang Cheng mumbles out, already resigned to his fate.
“You can’t! I’m already dead,” Wei Wuxian titters. “Now, where’s that present for our dear A-Ling?”
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Carp Tower is bustling with guest cultivators of all sects, by the time the Jiang entourage gets there. Wei Wuxian puts forth his best frown as he saunters up the grand stairs, doing what he thinks is his best impression of Jiang Cheng, though the eager skip in his steps—and his bouncing ponytail!—threatens to give him away.
Stop it, you look insane, Jiang Cheng grumbles. Walk properly! Like a human being!
Already his disciples have begun talking, having noticed the drastic change in personality on the ride here. None dared to utter a word about it, though, not when zidian still rests so prominently on Jiang Cheng’s hand. Perhaps the sect leader is merely excited for his nephew’s birthday? Say what you will about Sect Leader Jiang, but the one thing he truly cared about in life was Jin Rulan, the last family he still had on earth. They simply chalked their esteemed sect leader’s odd behaviour—and, they noted with very red faces, his much looser robes, showing much more skin and chest than would have been on display before—to the special occasion, and thought it for the best if their sect leader loosened up for good, anyway.
(Both in robes, and in temperament.)
Wei Wuxian skips right into the main hall, eager to get the banquet started. As his eyes wander excitedly around, taking in all the great sights around him, all of the human activity and the grand festivities he has missed over the years—he slams again something so hard and rigid, something so flawless and made of stone, like if he went any harder he’d have bounced right back.
Wei Wuxian! Watch where you’re going! Jiang Cheng yells, but it’s too late.
He raises his head, and loses—all semblance of himself, the minute their eyes meet.
Pure, hard, gold.
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian murmurs out, already feeling his heart skip a beat as the man before him turns his head around. “Oh.”
It’s him. The one and only Lan Wangji. His Lan er gege. He’s so tall now, with his shoulders so big and broad, and his face and jaw much older, and so well-defined. Exactly like what Wei Wuxian had envisioned, all those years away.
He’s handsome. He’s so devastatingly handsome. It even aches him a tiny bit to dwell on such a fact, really. He’s clearly grown up so well over the years, even in those mourning clothes he so insists on wearing!
Wei Wuxian’s hands hang in the air from where they’d been pushed back, longing to touch a man that has long spurned him away.
“Lan er gege,” Wei Wuxian uncontrollably whispers, with tinted ears and flushed cheeks, hardly remembering his position.
@((!*#@!&$#*@#?????? Jiang Cheng curses at him from the inside. WEI WUXIAN! YOU’RE STILL IN MY BODY!
Hey, give the man a break. It’s been a solid thirteen years!
But Lan Wangji’s eyes are widening anyway, when he hears this from who he thinks is Jiang Wanyin. Even Lan Xichen, who had been innocently engaged in conversation with his brother all this while, turns his head to view Sect Leader Jiang with… renewed interest.
Wei Wuxian remains happily starry-eyed, as Lan Wangji clears his throat and greets the sect leader before him, his tone proper and respectful. As much as he dislikes Sect Leader Jiang, he never will forget to maintain his usual sense of propriety.
“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji says.
Oh, his voice is so—!
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian eagerly lets out, the floodgates immediately opening. He’s sorely missed the man’s company all this while! “How have you been? It’s been a while! How is Gusu faring? Are you still so strict with the three thousand rules? How can there be that much, really? You’ll scare all the guest disciples away! Lan Zhan, did you bring a jar of Emperor’s Smile here? I’ve really missed it! Spare a jar for me, will you?”
Lan Wangji blinks at the familiar way he’s being addressed in, with blatant discomfort on his face.
“Gusu is doing well,” he answers quietly, because it is impolite not to. “And alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.”
At this, Wei Wuxian erupts into joyous laughter. “Hahahaha! Lan er gege, you’re still so funny!”
And then he places a hand over on Lan Wangji’s shoulder as he laughs, and Lan Wangji’s normally unwavering stature—grows a little unsteady.
No matter how one looks at it, the sight is akin to one that of a bold maiden being flirtatious with the man of her dreams. It only gets worse when you remember that the bold maiden in question is, outwardly, the stern and forbidding Sect Leader Jiang, who has undergone the transformation of a… lifetime.
“Jiang,” Lan Wangji swallows the distaste in his voice, as he critically eyes the hand on him. Everything in him tells him to push it off, and rather violently at that, but his teachings prevent him from doing so, at least in public. “Jiang Wanyin…”
“Aiyah, don’t call me so formally!” Wei Wuxian teases, allowing his hand to fall from Lan Wangji’s sleeve, brazenly taking advantage of the opportunity to feel up the curves of the man’s bulging biceps. Hehe. “Between you and me, there are no formalities! ‘Jiang Cheng’ is perfectly fine!”
NO, IT IS NOT, YOU IDIOT—
Lan Xichen interrupts right at this moment, wearing a smile of his own. Whether he’s interrupting out of concern for his brother, or simply because he’s intrigued by this new change in Jiang Wanyin, remains to be seen. “Sect Leader Jiang, you are in rather high spirits this morning.”
“Ah, Xichen-ge, I have missed you so,” Wei Wuxian turns his attention momentarily to him. “I hope you are well, too!”
“The ponytail suits you,” Lan Xichen’s smile remains gentle, even if he’s mildly surprised by Jiang Wanyin’s sudden friendliness with him. “As is your new friendship with Wangji.”
Huh, so it was the former.
“Of course, the same privilege wasn’t extended to me,” Lan Xichen says, sounding like he’s teasing, just a wee bit. “But I was wondering if I could perhaps be a friend of Sect Leader Jiang, as well?”
Well, Jiang Cheng was always due to make new friends anyway! He couldn’t remain in his anti-social hellhole forever! Consider this my gift to you, A-Cheng!
“Yeah!” Wei Wuxian readily agrees, grinning back to the older Lan, his long ponytail swishing in the back as he speaks. “Just call me Jiang Cheng!”
(“Since when did Sect Leader Jiang get so chummy with Zewu-Jun and Hanguang-Jun?” an onlooking cultivator questions his comrade next to him. “And that smile! Did he always have such a toothy grin?”
“Perhaps he has grown softer with age? And just between you and me, don’t those robes look a little too… risqué?” comes the response.)
“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji’s voice is crisp, harsh. “Your hand…”
“Oh!” Wei Wuxian notes, removing his hand from Lan Wangji’s biceps. Just a little friendly squeeze, and Lan Wangji’s already become like this. Looks like some things never change! He truly hasn’t changed much from the fuddy-duddy he was in his teens! “My apologies, Lan Zhan! I just like you so much, teehee.”
(It’s positively getting from bad to worse. Wei Wuxian’s progressively pushing his limits, and Jiang Cheng... Jiang Cheng fears he might possibly never recover from this.)
“Perhaps Sect Leader Jiang might want to reconsider his methods of,” Even if Lan Wangji continues to remain rather calm in demeanour, his tone is stiff and telling of his disapproval. “Pursuing a friendship with others.”
“What others?” Wei Wuxian hums, his head still very much in space. “You’re talking about yourself? Lan Zhaan, how can you consider yourself an ‘other’? Come on, I already consider us so close! Didn’t we even go through the Sunshot Campaign together? If we weren’t close, would I do this?!”
And he quickly hikes up his long purple robes, rather unseemingly and outrageously in public, exposing his lean, toned legs that usually remained hidden underneath.
Lan Wangji’s golden eyes pull wide open at the sheer indecency of it all. “Jiang Wanyin!”
“Ohohoho,” Lan Xichen coughs, into a hand. The smile refuses to vanish from his face.
(Jiang Cheng’s soul on the inside, meanwhile, is on the verge of a qi deviation, yelling out every insult ever known to man.
SHAMELESS! IMPROPER! ILL-MANNERED! I’M GOING TO @#)$( YOU SO @#)($($@ AND YOU’LL BE @)#@($(@)
“What,” Wei Wuxian grins, pulling out a small, trusty dagger Jiang Cheng keeps in the heel of his boots and waving it about to Lan Wangji. “I was going to offer you a little something as a token of our newfound friendship!”
Then, something finally gets through that extraordinarily thick skull of his, and Wei Wuxian sidles up to the man, dagger still in hand, dropping his voice to a suspiciously low register as his long lashes flutter down to meet his skin, “Or, did you have something else in mind for us, hm? Hanguang-Jun~”
This becomes Jiang Cheng’s breaking point, for good.
But before either of them can react, a soft, shaken voice suddenly pipes up from behind.
“Jiujiu?”
Oops.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji both turn around, only to meet the broken face of a boy who—looks utterly disillusioned, as if this one single sight has completely shattered everything he once believed in.
Uh oh. His very first meeting with his nephew, and it’s… come to this.
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No, no, no, no.
This absolutely cannot be happening to him.
Do it to anyone else but him! Why him?? Why his jiujiu??? Why couldn’t the Heavens be content with that bastard Mo Xuanyu!!!
Tears quickly spring to his eyes, as Jin Ling puts all the pieces together and comes to the most traumatising conclusion of his life: his favourite jiujiu, his beloved jiujiu, his a-niang’s one and only blood brother—was gay and in love with Hanguang-Jun!!!!!!!!!!
What ever happened to the many long nights of staying over at Lotus Pier; having pure, good fun just shit-talking everyone else in existence?! It was them against the cultivation world! The cultivation world, against them! Jiujiu raised him to never trust a Lan! Jin Ling had whole-heartedly obeyed! Anything his jiujiu said was the law!!! They’d toasted to it, sang songs about it, and now—and now—he lets out a woeful whimper, on the verge of crying out for his deceased a-niang—and now he’d just caught his jiujiu flirting with Lan Wangji, right to his face! Their public enemy, #1!!!! On his birthday, no less!
His uncle had turned into a cut-sleeve for Hanguang-Jun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What ensues is a sight so comical that it becomes tragic. His jiujiu oddly seems like he’s in the midst of a desperate tousle for control over his own body; with a thousand fast-moving facial expressions and a mouth that won’t stop firing off words rapidly by the minute, speaking the most insane things to himself,
“You said you wouldn’t do anything terrible, and now look at what you’ve done—”
“I didn’t! How was I supposed to know he’d be so close by—”
“It’s his birthday! He was always going to be close by! Plus, I’m his uncle, there’s no doubt he’d come to me—”
Jin Ling suddenly feels so small.
“Jiujiu?” Jin Ling calls out again, softly, with utmost terror in his eyes. “Jiujiu… Are you—are you, a cut-sleeve?”
Jiang Cheng stops warring with himself then, and turns to gaze rather apologetically at the child.
Jin Ling chokes back a sob, too, as he looks over at the offending man in white. The disgust on his face was out in the open, for all to see.
“Are you a cut-sleeve… for Hanguang-Jun?”
Double the betrayal.
Lan Wangji frowns, and looks away. He certainly had not anticipated getting roped into an unwanted romance this morning, much less burst the innocent bubble of a thirteen year old boy.
Jiang Cheng continues to maintain his silence.
He stares at Jin Ling, stares at Lan Wangji, stares at Lan Xichen.
(The third of which is still stifling his laughter. Xichen-ge, have you no conscience?!)
“Please excuse me for a moment,” Jiang Cheng mumbles out, eventually deciding that nothing he could say right now could adequately defuse this situation.
With a face quickly heating up, and not from shyness but from raw anger, he clutches his—rather loose robes to himself, and storms out of the banquet hall.
He ends up locating an open clearing a good distance away from everyone else, and calms himself for a good second or two.
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And then he lets out the loudest howl, frustratedly shrieking to the highest Heavens, his two trembling hands raised right up in the air, asking,
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
A servant of the Jin sect passes by, and sees no one but Sect Leader Jiang yelling and kicking into thin air, having the most frantic, most agonising, and some would even say most disturbing, conversation with himself.
“I am going to @#(*$#% you so @($@$*#$ you @#(*$*#...”
Another qi deviation, the servant thinks, with the shake of his head and a low sigh. He scurries along, not wanting to intervene. Such a pity, another sect leader lost to the unfortunate extremities of cultivation...
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They do get it sorted out, eventually.
Well, if sorting it out meant taking back control of his own body, since a certain someone couldn’t be trusted to do good with the gift he’d been bestowed.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t return to the banquet, though. He has no more shame left in him to give. He doesn’t think he’ll make a public appearance for the next six months or so, no. He’s ready to impose a mandatory ban on all visitors to the sect, and a seclusion of some sort for himself. How would he ever be able to look any of his disciples in the eye anymore?! Wei Wuxian, are you happy now?!
Wei Wuxian lets out a squeak, as if knowing any thoughts of his aren’t welcomed at this point.
He sits on a bench in the open clearing, hiding underneath some shade. Everyone’s busy enough with the banquet, so it’s not like they’ll notice if he’s gone. Hell, he hopes with all of his heart they won’t notice that he’s gone. Just this once, he doesn’t actually want any of the spotlight on the Jiang sect.
Wei Wuxian does pipe up at this one. Aw, but look on the bright side! You’ve strengthened ties with the prestigious Gusu Lan sect!
“I am never speaking to Lan Wangji again,” Jiang Cheng says fumingly, through gritted teeth.
A head abruptly peeks out from round the corner right then and there, with a noticeable vermillion mark between his brows. “W…Why?”
Jiang Cheng quickly looks up, temporarily brushing Wei Wuxian aside. “A-Ling.”
So it seems his nephew has been loitering nearby, for awhile now.
And well, it’s good that he has come to confront him directly about it. Jiang Cheng owes some sort of explanation to the boy, at least. It’d been his birthday celebration, after all, and his beloved jiujiu had all but set fire to it. If there was anything that pompous nephew of his liked, it was his grand celebrations.
“If,” and Jin Ling drags his feet to the man, with his head lowered and his voice hiding the low sniffles from before, because he is now thirteen and he is nearly a man and surely a man cannot be crying over simple things like this, “If jiujiu likes someone, he should continue speaking to him.”
His intent is pure and kind, but it is certainly something that Jiang Cheng does not want. Still, his heart is soothed by Jin Ling’s words.
Jin Ling hops onto the bench and takes a seat right next to him, leaving no gap in between them two.
“If jiujiu is worried that A-Ling might not accept him, then, well,” Jin Ling breathes out, rather hesitantly, like he’s spent a good amount of time deliberating over this. “I accept jiujiu, even if jiujiu is a cut-sleeve. And if jiujiu wants to talk about it with me, I’m all ears as well. I know… I know subjects like these can be hard to talk about. With non-family. And you’re,” he bites his lip, as if embarrassed to say. “You’re one of my only family left, after all.”
He’s being so terribly earnest, in a way that he never was before, that Jiang Cheng doesn’t even have the heart to correct the child and tell him he’s not actually a cut-sleeve.
Actually, you know what, what was so bad about being a cut-sleeve? Maybe Jiang Cheng could turn into a cut-sleeve just for him!
A-Cheng, nooo! You can’t go to these lengths just because you’re too embarrassed to correct a child!
Jiang Cheng had practically forgotten Wei Wuxian was still privy to his innermost thoughts.
Shut up, Jiang Cheng counters back. A-Ling is sensitive! I can’t break his heart!
“A-Ling, I,” Jiang Cheng says softly in response to the boy instead, his hands tightening into fists. There is so much raw emotion he wishes to let out, but remains afraid to. “I appreciate it.”
It really looks like Jin Ling’s all grown up.
So the boy continues to nod, as he swings his legs on the bench.
And they sit together in comfortable silence, in a place where no one can find them, until Jin Ling finds it in him to speak again.
“I have an uncle living in the Jin sect,” Jin Ling mumbles out, averting his gaze with pink in his cheeks. “Mo Xuanyu. He—uh, he’s like jiujiu. Perhaps jiujiu can consider meeting with…”
Jiang Cheng shuts that line of thought down immediately. “We’ll talk about that another time.”
Jin Ling grows increasingly flustered, and nods. Perhaps his jiujiu is still shy about these things. “Okay.”
Aww, was Jin Ling always this cute? Wei Wuxian coos, overlooking such a sight. I wish I could give him a tight, big hug! Come on, A-Cheng, give him a hug! For me! Or I swear I’ll do it myself!
The thought of Wei Wuxian taking possession of him in any form again is a threat enough that Jiang Cheng actually extends his arms right out and pulls Jin Ling aggressively into the tightest, biggest, most heartfelt hug he’s ever given.
Jiang Cheng’s evidently not a hugger. But when he tries, he tries.
And while Jin Ling might not know his other uncle Wei Wuxian was there as well, in spirit, he certainly felt the warmth from his both uncles as he sunk his head into Jiang Cheng’s chest.
“I’m glad I have you,” Jin Ling mumbles out again, still heavily embarrassed.
Wei Wuxian’s smile is palpable, from his voice. I’m glad he has you, too, A-Cheng.
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Lan Wangji comes up to him, right as Jiang Cheng approaches the main hall.
Jin Ling exchanges looks with him, then decides to head on back without his jiujiu and give the two men their privacy.
Just cut-sleeve things, or so he thinks.
Lan Wangji looks at Jiang Cheng rather expectantly, like he awaits to see what else Jiang Cheng has up his sleeve. But when Jiang Cheng barely even makes a sound, and returns to him a rather perplexed look, Lan Wangji appears… somewhat disappointed?
“I have given it some thought,” Lan Wangji says, his golden eyes flashing with… hope????(!!!). “And I believe I am ready for that ‘something else’.”
Jiang Cheng splutters out, “Uh… Pardon me?”
Of course, one cannot expect someone the likes of Sect Leader Jiang to interpret the well-meaning, romantic intentions of one pining cultivator.
Wei Wuxian’s already going wild, inside his head, from the excitement. Oh, for fuck’s sake, A-Cheng! He means to say he’s happy to be friends with you!
...One cannot expect Sect Leader Jiang’s martial brother to interpret it well, either.
“The token of friendship,” Lan Wangji clarifies, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice. “From earlier. I would not be opposed to it. Or something else. Whatever… whatever you want to give me.”
Jiang Cheng stares at him blankly, completely not computing whatever… is happening right before him. He doesn’t know what’s going on—but something sure is happening.
Lan Wangji chews upon his lip. Had he made a gross miscalculation?
“Are you not, are you—” Lan Wangji anxiously eyes Jiang Cheng in a rather strange manner, from the top of his ponytail, to the way his robes are so loosely open for the occasion. “Are you not him? Wei…” but he stops himself right there, as if unwilling to fully utter out the name he holds so dear. “Perhaps I was wrong. My apologies.”
He turns to leave, with clenched fists at his sides, his head turned to the ground.
Hm? Wei Wuxian says, unable to reconcile this forlorn feeling in his chest. Why is he so upset?
Jiang Cheng’s smarter than him by a margin, at least.
He relinquishes all control once more to the second soul occupying his body—and allows Wei Wuxian to call for his Lan er gege one last time.
“Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji pauses in his steps, and hurriedly raises his head to meet what were once silver eyes.
“If he were still here,” Wei Wuxian says to him, his mouth crinkling into the sweetest smile, his long ribbon flowing gracefully along with the wind behind him. “He’d say thank you.”
Lan Wangji parts his lips slightly, letting out a single puff of breath.
“Wei Ying,” he whispers, with all the love that he can muster.
If this is all Wei Wuxian has to offer, for now, then this is all Lan Wangji is willing to take.
.
.
.
After that day, Wei Wuxian does disappear from the world, as promised. He never comes to Jiang Cheng in another dream again, never makes a single more demand. In the end, Jiang Cheng does come to the comforting conclusion that perhaps Wei Wuxian’s soul was finally able to move on. Perhaps even entered a new reincarnation cycle of sorts, by the looks of it.
But as his luck would have it—Wei Wuxian is not gone for long.
Instead, Wei Wuxian comes back less than a year later, in a certain Mo Xuanyu’s body.
(It’d been awful, at first. When they first met, A-Ling was still rather adamant on match-making the two, not realising that Jiang Cheng had immediately recognised his martial brother the minute he’d opened that potty mouth of his. Wei Wuxian had to give up the truth much faster than he’d have liked, of him replacing Mo Xuanyu’s soul, only because A-Ling kept popping up at the most embarrassing intervals and staring both of them down until his two uncles made out or “did something cut-sleeve worthy”. It was for his “jiujiu’s happiness”, or so Jin Ling insisted.)
But, well, all is well that ends well for Wei Wuxian.
He gets the hug he always wanted with A-Ling.
He gets the reconciliation with the brother of whom he’d—now so proudly—shared a body with.
And he gets the life with the man his soul was willing to move heaven and earth, for.
He couldn’t possibly ask for anything more!
.
.
.
...But not everyone gets the memo that Sect Leader Jiang is not actually a cut-sleeve.
Because there are now tales being spread, songs being sung and books being written about Sect Leader Jiang’s tragic enemies-to-lovers romance that was not meant to be; for the apple of his eye Hanguang-Jun had remained true to his one true love: the recently resurrected Yiling Patriarch Wei Wuxian, who, in an even more pitiful turn of events, was Sect Leader Jiang’s ex-martial brother!
(The matchmakers in town felt so sorry for Sect Leader Jiang, they took him off their blacklists and offered to find him another good man to marry. Even if their options might pale in comparison to the likes of Hanguang-Jun.)
“It’s the most tragic romance of the century!” Ouyang Zizhen tells a riveted group of junior disciples in class. “Two brothers fighting over the same man? It can only be for Hanguang-Jun!”
“It can only be for Hanguang-Jun!” Lan Jingyi parrots, thinking of the senior cultivator, all dreamy-eyed. “I would fight for him too! Oh, who can begrudge Sect Leader Jiang? Wei qianbei is so lucky!”
(He wouldn’t mind Wei qianbei too, in all honesty.)
“Hey, jiujiu already said it was a demonic possession at the time,” Jin Ling sulks, adamant on clearing his jiujiu’s innocent name. “It wasn’t him! It was that devil Wei Wuxian!”
“Come on, are you really going to believe in the words of a man that has been so brutally spurned by his love?” Ouyang Zizhen chides. “Then you’re way too gullible about the complicated affairs of love, Jin Ling!”
“But jiujiu told me himself! Jiujiu wouldn’t lie to me!”
“I know you feel sorry for him! But this isn’t the way to go about it!”
“I’m going to tell jiujiu that you’re spreading lies—”
“Settle down,” orders Hanguang-Jun, as he steps into the room.
Immediately everyone rushes back into their seats. The senior cultivator gazes at the open book on Ouyang Zizhen’s desk, titled The Pitiful One-Sided Romance of the Wanton Sect Leader, and snaps it right up.
“I am taking this,” Hanguang-Jun tells the boy.
“Yes, Hanguang-Jun,” Ouyang Zizhen answers quietly, looking down to his feet.
Hanguang-Jun turns his back on the disciples, and readies himself for class.
And his lip twitches, when no one is looking, in the slightest hint of a smile.
.
.
.
And, well, as for who was ultimately responsible for spreading those tales in the first place?
...Teehee.