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Chapter Text

Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, broke. 

While he survived the loss of his parents at the age of four; lived on the streets of Yiling for five years; believed the false promises of the leader of the Yunmeng Jiang sect; became head disciple despite the constant whipping, endless punishments, and vile comments by the sect’s furin, Madam Yu, despite the jealousy of his martial brother, Jiang Cheng; lost his home to the greed of Qishan Wen and Wen Ruohan; gave away his golden core to Jiang Cheng during a gruelling, two day operation he remained awake for; was caught and tortured by Wen Ruohan’s second son, Wen Chao; thrown in the Burial Grounds, a place of living death ruled by ghosts, monsters, yao, and other beings warped by demonic energy; crawled out after three months of hell; turned the tide of war against Wen Ruohan through his mastery of the ghost path; left the greed and hypocrisy of the rest of the cultivation world to protect fifty elderly women and men, non cultivators, and a child of three; helped build them a home in the Burial Grounds; brought back the consciousness of the gentlest person he knew aside from his shijie to create the first sentient fierce corpse on record; killed his shijie’s husband during an ambush by the sect that craved his power, Lanling Jin; lost Wen Qing and Wen Ning, the siblings he gained through suffering and death; lost his mind when the rest of the cultivation world joined together to pledge his death, which led to the death of his shijie when she tried to save him; watched the rest of his third family die during a siege led by his former martial brother and recipient of his core; died; got dragged back to life as the abused, bastard child of Jin Guangshan; and more things than he wanted to remember. 

However, when his son, his precious radish, a-Yuan, Lan Sizhui, died at the hands of a jealous monster driven by hate, Wei Ying finally shattered into pieces.

As for his husband, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, The Second Jade of Gusu, he did not fare any better. 

He too had lost his mother when he was six; was punished for grieving too much; grew up with an absentee father, who died when he was a teenager; fell in love with someone he didn’t know what to do with; had his leg broken by Wen Xu, Wen Ruohan’s other awful son; lost several fellow sect members to the Wen invasion of his home; watched his home burn at their hands; searched for three months for the boy he didn’t know how to confess to; tried to help his beloved only to make matters worse; had his heart crushed; got whipped thirty-three times with a discipline whip by his elders and his uncle; spent three years in seclusion recovering; raised a-Yuan on his own; mourned the death of Wei Ying for thirteen years; and many more events all tied to Wei Ying. 

So, when the child of his beloved, the boy he raised, passed from his world because of a man he hated more than almost anyone else in his life, he had little left to hold himself together. 

Together, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan mourned their son, holding his rapidly cooling body in the clearing where he fell. The tell-tale lightning marks of Zidian clearly showed on his skin. 

“A-Yuan, my sweet radish. I’m so sorry,” Wei Ying whispered, so devastated he could barely breathe let alone speak. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Beside him, Lan Zhan remained silent, his arm wrapped around Wei Ying and tears streaming down his face. They stayed like that for far too long, the ice of winter whirling around them with the threat of a building storm. The sun had gone down without them noticing, their attention locked on their dead son. 

Why this happened, that was easy to guess. Sect Leader Jiang never lost his hatred of anyone hinting at Wen heritage or Wei Ying. In fact, as the years passed, the bitterness only grew as Yunmeng Jiang withered. 

“He always did need someone else to blame for his faults,” Wei Ying said, leaning heavily against his husband. “How did this happen? There was no reason for a-Yuan to be here. He should have been in Koi Tower with Jingyi and Jin Ling. They were preparing a special surprise for Ouyang Zizhen.”      

Lan Zhan cleared his throat, his voice raw when he spoke. “We must take him back to Cloud Recesses. After we have…” he hesitated, choking on the words neither of them wanted to speak out loud. 

“After, we will find out how this happened,” Wei Ying continued for him, setting off another bout of tears he thought he had run dry of. 

“And then we destroy him,” Lan Zhan added, the ice in his words colder than the storm around them.       

Wei Ying agreed, no grace in him left for Jiang Wanyin. He scribbled out a couple of preservation talismans and placed them on their son with reverence. After, Lan Zhan gathered Sizhui in his arms and the three of them left the clearing where their lives ended.  

The storm hindered their travels, but they finally arrived in Cloud Recesses with the body of their son in Lan Zhan’s arms. When Lan Xichen met them at the gates, the joy on his face dissolved into horror. He rushed toward them, brow furrowed and chestnut eyes blown wide. “Oh, no. No! What happened?” he cried, his hands hovering over a-Yuan’s face.

“We found him outside the village,” Wei Ying began, his head clouded by grief and exhaustion. “The place, uh, where, where…” he pressed his palm against his temple, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Will explain to Xiongzhang later,” Lan Zhan interjected when Wei Ying couldn’t go on. 

Xichen-ge moved aside, but followed close as they escorted their son to the ancestral hall. By the time they reached the building, most of Cloud Recesses had fallen into step behind them. 

“Hanguang-jun, Senior Wei!” Jingyi shouted as he ran toward them. “They said… I heard… No. No, it can’t be! Please!” He collapsed against the doorframe of the ancestral hall, pale and shaking. “Please…”

Wei Ying pulled him close and entered the building with his son’s best friend sobbing on his shoulder. One of the elders nearby muttered something about the boy breaking rules, which made Wei Ying eviscerate him with a glare. The fucker shrunk back, his wrinkled face twisted with bitterness. Even after years, an outlier group of Lan legalists still complained and hated in the shadows. 

“Leave,” Lan Zhan ordered the man, his tone allowing no argument.

The elder sputtered and shifted his gaze to Xichen-ge, his face red with outrage.
“Go,” Xichen-ge ordered. He nodded toward a couple of disciples, who looked quite pleased to throw the fucker out. 

As pleasing as it would have been on a better day, it meant nothing without a-Yuan. Wei Ying’s heart ached, barely able to appreciate the vast number of people there to mourn the loss of one of Gusu’s best and most loved sons. 

The day after the funeral, Wei Ying didn’t want to get out of bed. He and Lan Zhan lay together, neither sleeping nor speaking. They held each other until their arms ached and their bodies hurt. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“A-Xian? Wangji?” Xichen-ge called from the receiving room of the Jingshi. He cracked open the door to their bedroom, but didn’t come inside. “I have brought food, though I doubt either of you want to eat.”

Then why did you bring it? Wei Ying couldn’t scrape up the energy to say the words aloud.

“Uncle is here with me. We were hoping to discuss what happened and how to get justice.”

Justice. Wei Ying whimpered and pressed himself further against Lan Zhan. In his grief, he had forgotten he wanted justice, retribution, revenge. Now, it swirled up from the ache in his heart like the resentful energy from the Burial Grounds crept inside him to fill the emptiness inside him.

“Come,” Lan Zhan said, his voice soft and tender. He rose and helped Wei Ying to his feet. 

Their eyes met, the molten gold eyes burned with determination. Wei Ying drew strength from him and allowed his husband to dress him for company. Once they were both ready, they left together to face a world without their sweet radish.

Lan Qiren knelt at the low table, his attention on preparing their meal for consumption. As he placed the dishes from the tray onto the wooden surface, Wei Ying noticed it wasn’t the usual Lan fare. 

“Uncle thought food from Sizhui’s favourite restaurant seemed more appropriate to honour him,” Xichen-ge explained as he encouraged them to sit. 

Wei Ying didn’t know whether to be touched or fall to pieces as he took in the Hunan delicacies a-Yuan would have delighted in. 

He and Qiren still didn’t have the best relationship, but they had finally come to a truce two years ago. They tolerated each other most of the time, and challenged each other the rest of the time. It had amused Lan Zhan and their son to see the two of them semi-bonding over theories and obscure texts. 

“Wen Ning should be here soon. He wanted to stop by the ancestral hall first. Jingyi has gone to collect Jin Rulan and Ouyang Zizhen from the guest quarters, so they will be along shortly.” He paused, his mouth opening and closing as though he was hesitant to continue. “Sect Leader Nie is on his way. How he found out, I don’t know, but I’m sure neither of you are surprised. His message hinted at bringing some information he couldn’t share in writing.”

As Wei Ying listened, he played with his food, unable to put any in his mouth. No one admonished him, their own utensils swirling around the rice and noodles without actually eating any. 

Lan Zhan poured him a cup of tea, which he swallowed out of habit. The liquid burned on the way down, allowing him a moment of feeling in his numb body. 

A moment later, the others filed in with silent steps and closed mouths as though someone had cast the silence spell on all of them. The three boys sank to the floor, holding each other and sniffing in an attempt to hold back their tears. Wen Ning kept his distance, his demeanour more like an empty shell than a sentient corpse.

“There were marks from Zidian on him, weren’t there?” Jin Ling asked softly, his fingers clenching as though he longed for his sword.

Wei Ying closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t have to confirm his nephew’s suspicions.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan responded for him, the one syllable holding more frost than the darkest winter day. 

“You’re not surprised,” Xichen-ge commented, causing Wei Ying to look at the young sect leader.

He worked his jaw before answering. “No. Jiujiu,” he paused as though the endearment burned his tongue. “Ever since the events at the temple and Hanguang-jun and Da-jiu’s marriage, things have gone poorly for him.”

“Fuck, you’ve gotten so polite and political,” Jingyi growled, nudging his friend. “Just say it. His obsession with Senior Wei has gone down a dark hole to the deepest level of hell.”

“I’m a sect leader. I have to be polite and political,” Jin Ling snapped back. “But he’s right. His disciples do whatever they want. No one helps anyone anymore even if someone dies. It’s terrible. Lotus Pier has fallen into disrepair. I can’t even visit anymore because all he does is interrogate me about you and Hanguang-jun. Then he curses me out for spending time with you.”

“He found out a-Yuan was a Wen.” 

It wasn’t a question. Jin Ling nodded toward Lan Zhan. 

“Yes. I don’t know how, but he did. I figure since he couldn’t go after Da-jiu without having to face Hanguang-jun, he decided to turn his hatred on Sizhui.”

In the silence that followed his statement, Wei Ying held onto Lan Zhan, his arms wrapped around him. His husband returned the hold as they worked to keep each other afloat. 

When a knock cut through the quiet, several of them jumped. The door opened and Nie Huaisang rushed in, his hair wild and face flushed. He gathered his dark green robes around him and flopped onto the nearest cushion before tossing a qiankun bag toward Xichen-ge. 

“There. That’s all the information I could gather on Jiang Wanyin since the temple.” He turned to Wei Ying, his countenance more serious than anyone had experienced before. This Huaisang wasn’t hiding his cunning side, his shrewd intellect. The fool mask was gone. “I am so sorry I did not catch a hint of his intentions until it was too late. The loss of your son is a loss of tremendous goodness to the world.”

While he meant well by his comments, the words made Wei Ying clench his teeth. He didn’t care if the rest of the world lost anything by the death of his dear child. They didn’t deserve him and his generous spirit. 

Huaisang turned his attention to the rest of them. “I’ve given you enough information to wipe Jiang Wanyin from the face of the earth and take over Lotus Pier.”

Xichen-ge shifted the qiankun bag from hand to hand as though it was too hot to handle. 

“That won’t bring Sizhui back,” Lan Qiren said, his voice breaking. 

“No, it won’t.” 

The statement from Wen Ning hung heavy in the air. 

“That’s why I have another option,” Huaisang said when no one else spoke. 

All eyes turned toward him. Wei Ying studied him carefully, uncertain whether he trusted the man or not and not sure he cared. 

“What are you saying?” JIngyi asked with a frown. “You have a way of getting Sizhui back?”

“Yes and no.” 

Lan Zhan slammed a fist against the table, scattering dishes and food. “Speak clearly.”

“Okay,” Huaisang squeaked, leaning away from the chill flowing in his direction. He pulled out a piece of parchment and passed it to Wei Ying. “This is the other option. A select few of us go back and change the past.”

“Time-travel,” Wei Ying said flatly as he studied the array laid out on the paper. 

“That’s impossible,” Xichen-ge said, his gaze flitting over the runes before shifting to Lan Qiren. 

The Grandmaster held out his hand, and Wei Ying passed the parchment over. The room stilled while he scanned the spell. After a moment, he raised his eyes and caught Wei Ying’s gaze.

“What do you think?”

“It could work,” he admitted, unsure if he wanted to admit it or not. “The array is sound.”

Lan Qiren nodded. “But…”

He ran a hand over his face before answering. “To go back might change things, but not necessarily for the better. There are so many ways altering the past could go wrong.”

“What would happen to those who don’t go back?” Zizhen asked, his face soaked in tears. 

Wei Ying studied the array again, following the intricate pattern to get a clear understanding of it. He sighed. “This reality would fade like it never happened.”

He paused and let that sink in. As much as he wanted to go back and let Jiang Wanyin fend for himself, did he have the right to choose that for an entire world? Did he care? 

“Yes, it would,” Qiren agreed, his normally perfect posture sagging. “Everything I’ve ever believed tells me this is wrong, that no one has the right to do such blasphemy. We should let justice prevail and get retribution through the proper channels. However, executing Jiang Wanyin or declaring war on Yunmeng Jiang will not erase the pain of loss.” He placed his hands in his lap, his gaze shifting from person to person. 

“All of us here have lost so much.” his eyes locked on Wei Ying again with more compassion than he had ever expressed before. “Some of us, more than anyone should have to endure. If going to the past has the potential to make things better, it might be worth the risk.”

Shocked, Wei Ying didn’t know what to say. He never expected Lan Qiren, the man who hated him the moment he saw him, would believe he could change the past for the better and deserved the opportunity to try.

“Who would go?” Wen Ning asked in his gentle voice. 

“All those old enough to make a difference?” Xichen-ge suggested. “Jingyi, Jin Rulan, and Ouyang Zizhen would either be babies or not born yet, so I’m assuming they can’t go.”

“No. They can’t,” Wei Ying said with another sigh. That was all he seemed to do these days, sigh and sigh, like it was the only way he could get air in his lungs. “The spell takes a great deal of power, which is partially why this reality ends. At most, two people could send their souls back without getting torn apart in the process.” He held up a hand. “I shall add that this is all theory on my part.”

“You’ve risked everything on theory before,” Huaisang reminded him, getting a scathing look from Lan Zhan. 

“True,” Wei Ying admitted, rubbing his husband’s back. 

“So, who would go? You and Wangji?” Xichen-ge asked, his concern clear in his furrowed brow and pale face. 

He didn’t even have to look at Lan Zhan to know he would go. 

“You could save your Wen family,” Huaisang said, his tone void of emotion. “Your shijie.”

While Wei Ying recognised the manipulation, he knew it was working. He couldn’t argue with the appeal of saving those he lost. His attention turned to Wen Ning, who met his gaze with eyes that barely showed life. He could change the fate of so many: Wen Qing, Wen Ning, Popo, Uncle Four, Shijie…

“If we go, I will leave,” Lan Zhan said, his fierce gaze glued on Lan Qiren.

“What? Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, trying to understand what his husband meant.

His uncle stroked his beard. “Understood.”
“No,” Wei Ying objected, not wanting his husband to lose his family.

Qiren frowned at him. “He has no choice. The elders will not listen. I will not listen and I do not want to see either of you suffer because of the stubborn, misguided pride of the elders and myself.”

“Uncle,” Xichen-ge said, upset at the thought of his didi leaving their home. 

“No, Xichen. It is for the best.” Qiren grasped his shoulder, showing more affection than he ever had before. “I know myself. It has taken loss, suffering, and Wei Ying’s generous spirit to soften my hard heart. I wish I could say I will react differently to you, Wei Ying, but my past self won’t.”

Wei Ying chuckled in self-deprecation. “Understandable, Grandmaster. Teenage Wei Ying was more than a handful, and I did nothing to mitigate your unfavourable opinion.”

“You knew it wouldn’t matter,” Lan Zhan said, pulling him close again. “We will visit, Xiongzhang. We will remain family.” 

“Just not sect members,” Xichen-ge said, his head nodding, though his heartbreak was clear. “Will you save Father?”

“If I can.”

The brothers fell into a silent conversation. Wei Ying wanted to protest, to somehow fix it so that his husband remained in his home, but Lan Qiren was right. There was sorrow and regret in the old goat’s eyes. He sighed yet again and let it go. It was Lan Zhan’s choice, and he would support his husband.

“Save Da-ge,” Huaisang interjected, his expression pleading. “If you can.” 

Wei Ying gave him an understanding smile. “I’ll do my best, Chief Cultivator.”

His Nie friend scrunched his features. “Find someone else for the position, I beg of you,” he said, and Wei Ying almost found the energy to laugh.

Though the food had gone cold, Qiren applied a heating talisman to each dish and insisted people eat. While most obeyed, Wei Ying went over the array again. 

It would work, but was it enough?

The Jiang Wanyin of now, wasn’t the Jiang Cheng of the past yet. The seeds were there, though. He had gotten enough distance from his time in Lotus Pier to know this was true. His former martial brother hated cutsleeve relationships. He believed Wei Ying belonged to him as a servant, not as a brother. He was unreasonably jealous and offended almost everyone he came into contact with. And he only got worse as he grew older. It wasn’t just the fall of Lotus Pier and the loss of family that ruined their relationship. They had never been friends from the beginning. How could they be when Jiang Cheng never saw them as equals?

As his thoughts drifted back to his little radish, he decided he wanted Jiang Wanyin to suffer. With this in mind, he moved to his desk and took out a fresh sheet of paper. 

A few days later, Wei Ying was satisfied with the adjustments he made to the array. He didn’t bother explaining the alterations to the others. They didn’t need to know. The only person who needed the information was Lan Zhan, and he approved the changes with a glint of glee in his golden eyes.

After much discussion, they decided Wei YIng and Lan Zhan would go back to the first day of the Cloud Recesses lectures. Despite still being teenagers, if they waited too long, they would not be able to protect Cloud Recesses. If they went back to a younger age, they wouldn’t have the skills or power to change anything. 

As much as Lan Zhan wanted to save Wei Ying from growing up in Lotus Pier, he convinced his husband it wasn’t a good idea. They needed to limit the changes they made to minimise any potential missteps. They needed to focus on the specific period that brought so much suffering to so many lives. 

Before anyone left, Jingyi came over to where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan stood, holding each other as they observed the room. 

“Will Sizhui still be my friend?” Jingyi asked when he finally gathered up the courage to ask, his whole body shaking. 

“Of course,” Wei Ying said, messing up his hair. “You are a part of our family. Nothing will change that.”

“Good,” the boy said with a broken smile. “Good.” He turned and made his way back to his friends, who brought him into a hug. They clung to each other as they exited the Jingshi.  

“They’re good ducklings,” he told his husband, knowing he would miss them.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agreed before shifting his attention to Huaisang. “How did he do it?”

The Nie sat up straighter, his weary face showing his age. “According to the evidence, the nighthunt you and Wei Ying went on was fake, a lie to lure you away.” His eyes flicked toward Lan Qiren and Xichen-ge before settling on the cup in his hands. He shrugged. “A Lan elder helped him by giving Sizhui a false message from Hanguang-jun to meet you two at the outskirts of the village you were investigating. When the dear boy arrived, Jiang Wanyin and his cohorts surrounded him. You know the rest from there.”

Unable to breathe, Wei Ying crumpled to the ground. Lan Zhan curled around him as the grief overwhelmed them both. Neither of them heard the others leave. 

The goodbyes hurt. 

Huaisang cried and gave quick hugs before running off to suffer alone. Wen Ning met them at a-Yuan’s tablet. He didn’t say much, but hope radiated off of him. The three boys cried, quarrelled, and hugged. 

“For Sizhui,” they whispered, standing together for support.

Lan Qiren bowed to them in silence before turning away to meditate in seclusion. Xichen-ge walked with them to the gates, his pain heavy on his shoulders. 

“What will you do about Meng Yao?” he asked before waving his hands in dismissal. “No. Don’t answer that. I don’t need to know.” He gave a sour chuckle. “I won’t know the difference if I don’t meet him. That is so strange to think.”

They paused at the edge of Cloud Recesses. Xichen-ge shifted from foot to foot, his anxiety making him look anywhere but at them. 

“I don’t know if we have the right to do this. Perhaps, we should do like the rest of the world, mourn and move on, but the idea of saving any of those who died, of preventing a war. I’m willing to disappear to make that happen. 

He pulled Lan Zhan into a hug, and he didn’t object. “Don’t leave me alone, Wangji,” he whispered. “I’m not telling you to stay. Just… I know I made many mistakes. I trusted the wrong people and believed what I wanted to believe. My obliviousness made me complicit in the suffering and death of many, not just Da-ge. If you can help me grow, please, do so. If not, keep me from hurting others.” He grabbed Wei Ying and brought him into the embrace too. “You both are family and wiser than me. Know that I love you both no matter what mistakes I make in my ignorance.”

“Xichen-ge, you can’t get rid of me, not now that you are my brother. You’ll never be alone.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan added, making him and Xichen-ge chuckle. 

“On that note, we should go,” Wei Ying said as he stepped away and pulled Lan Zhan with him. 

His husband dropped Bichen and stepped on the hovering sword, bringing Wei Ying with him. They didn’t look back. Instead they held each other tight as they flew to Lotus Pier. When they landed before the gates of the Yunmeng sect, Wei Ying gasped at the sight of his former home.

The sound of the water lapping up against the shore echoed across the barren docks. Where merchants used to gather to sell their wares, no one stood. No children played near the gates, hoping to get a peek at the disciples training. 

While the gates showed the fine quality of their craftsmanship, the area beyond appeared desolate and neglected. Weeds grew in ragged patches over sandy soil that smelled of decaying seaweed and fish guts. 

Harsh laughter cut through the silence, drifting in from the direction of the training grounds. The voices taunted each other, throwing loud insults back and forth without caring who might hear.

Once, the state of his former sect would have hurt deeply and make him sacrifice himself to correct it. Now, it only added to his sadness, not in grief, but in heartache for the wasted potential. It was pity, the last thing he once thought he would feel for the sect that saved him from the streets. 

Although the guards ignored them, one sauntered off in the direction of the Sect Leader’s office. Some of the men who gathered behind the guards had fought for the Jiang during the war. Many of them had been at Nightless City and the Burial Grounds siege. All of them wore the same arrogant sneer. 

Humming to himself, Wei Ying proceeded to sketch an array out on the ground before the entrance. While he worked, Lan Zhan stood between him and the Jiang disciples, a formidable wall none of them dared to breach. When he was nearly done, Jiang Wanyin strolled toward the gates.

“What do you want?” the Jiang leader said as Wei Ying put the finishing touches on the array. 

Lan Zhan joined him in the centre of the spell, his awareness intent on their surroundings and those in front of them.

“Hello, Chengcheng,” Wei Ying greeted with more calm than he felt. He donned a smile reminiscent, in feeling, of his Yiling Patriarch days.        

Jiang Wanyin flinched at the nickname, his hand curling tight around his sword. However, he didn’t attack. Instead, he snorted and stared down his nose at them. “You arrogant fucker. I figured you and your,” he paused and curled his lip in distaste, “loyal dog would show up here sooner or later.”

Wei Ying ignored the slight to his husband for the moment.  “Of course, you did. That was the plan. Wasn’t it? You couldn’t fight me, so you lured an innocent boy to his death.”

The sick laugh Jiang Wanyin gave made Wei Ying long to shove a sword down his throat. 

“And it was easy. The naive Wen-dog just had to rush to the aid of his disgusting parents. You should have seen him suffer.”

“Yes, I’m sure you enjoyed it,” Wei Ying said with an ease that surprised him. Before the waste of a human could go on, he activated the array. 

“What’s this? More dirty tricks?” Jiang Wanyin spat, trying to appear unaffected. His shifting eyes gave away his anxiety. 

“It’s something special I made up just for you,” he replied as the world around them faded and turned grey. He held onto Lan Zhan’s hand, waiting for the right moment to have his husband activate the time-travel array. 

“I’m not afraid of your games,” the Jiang leader snarled and lunged at them. 

They didn’t move as he passed right through them. He turned around, his lips twisting in hatred. 

“What did you do?”

With a nonchalant hug, Wei Ying faced him. “You like to blame me for all your woes and suffering. You think that if I wasn’t there, your life would be so much better, that Lotus Pier wouldn’t have fallen, that you wouldn’t be alone, watching your family’s legacy crumble. So, that’s what I’m going to give you.”

“What, the fuck, do you mean? Stop spouting nonsense.” He swiped at them again, but Sandu went through them as though it was made of mist. 

“Lan Zhan and I are going back to the past. When we get there, I will secede from Yunmeng Jiang and leave you and your family to their fates.”

A heavy gasp made his body tremble. “So that’s your solution, is it? Run away. Abandon those who saved you. You owe your life to us and nothing will change that.”

“That’s a tired tune you should stop warbling, Chengcheng.”

“Don’t call me that!!” he demanded, trying to strike them again. “You coward. Fight me instead of hiding behind your pathetic inventions.”

“No,” he replied, simply. “I’m tired of fighting you. I have paid my debt to you and yours. Your father promised me a home where I would be safe and part of a family. He broke his promise the moment your mother struck me with Zidian for getting a golden core before you. When he stood by and let her torture me for the mistakes of you and the others, he took payment from my flesh. When I distracted others from your surly temper and poor personality, when I put up with every time you put me down, mocked me, and made derogatory comments about me, I paid you back for your hot and cold friendship. When your father refused to refute the rumours that I was his bastard, I paid your clan back with every slanderous word said against my mother. Every meal, piece of clothing, and moment of shelter, I paid back by allowing your mother to deride me and my parents. You and your family used me as a shield, a toy, and a target for their anger. Because of this, I owe you nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes at his former shidi. “However, you owe me, and I take great pleasure in extracting payment.”

“Yeah? What about a-Jie? She died because of you!”

“And by returning to the past, I’m giving her and your parents their lives back.” Jiang Wanyin gave a hollow laugh. “And what are you going to do? Torture me? Let that frozen wall you fawn over kill me? Go ahead. You’ve taken everything else from me. Poor Wei Wuxian. He suffers so. You deserve everything you got and more. We’re going back in time? Good. I will make your life so miserable, you’ll beg to return to this reality.”

Wei Ying let his smile grow nastier. “Oh, no. You don’t understand, dear Chengcheng. Lan Zhan and I are returning to the past. You are staying right here. The world as we know it, will fade away and you will remain in this void where you will watch the renewed past unfold, unable to do anything about it. Whatever happens to you and Lotus Pier will have nothing to do with me anymore. You and your family will live and die by their own poison.”

Sandu swung in his direction again, but he ignored it, opting to signal his husband to activate the time-travel array.

“You can talk all you want, Wei Wuxian, but you’ll never wash the blood from your hands. People suffered and died because of you! Never forget that! Their blood will always be on your hands.”

His words faded in the distance as a golden light surrounded Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. They leaned against each other and Lan Zhan kissed Wei Ying’s brow. “Do not listen to him. That future is gone. This is a clean start.”

“I know,” he whispered and meant it. “I’ll see you soon, husband.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied as they drifted from each other and faded from sight.

Wei Ying skipped up to the entrance to Cloud Recesses, leaving his complaining shidi trailing behind. The thrill of his original body and core made him vibrate with energy. With a squeal, he rushed toward his husband, who caught him and twirled them both around. 

“Wei Ying,” he breathed after putting him down. He cupped Wei Ying’s face in his hands, his golden eyes mesmerising. “Beautiful.”

Ecstatic, Wei Ying threw his head back and laughed. “We did it. We’re here.”

“Mn. It worked.”

“What now?” he asked, unable to keep from laughing again. 

“Wangji? You know each other?” Lan Xichen asked, his confusion evident behind a hopeful smile.

“This is Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replied without turning away.

“What, the fuck, are you doing?” Jiang Cheng shouted, yanking on Wei Ying’s arm. “Let go of him. Are you trying to make Yunmeng Jiang lose face?”

The glare his husband gave the Jiang brat made Wei Ying snicker in delight. 

“Here,” Lan Zhan said, thrusting a bag of silver at Jiang Cheng. “This pays for Wei Ying’s freedom. He is no longer a Jiang servant.”
“What?” Jiang Cheng hollered, staring at the bag in his hands as though it offended him. 

“Do you have everything you want?” Wei Ying asked.

“Only need Wei Ying.”

He smacked his love on the chest. “Lan Zhan! You can’t say that. Have compassion for my poor heart.”

His past and future husband kissed him on the nose, causing a wave of outrage and shock to course through those gathered around them. 

“Wei Ying’s heart is young again. He can handle it.”

The smooth talk made him swoon. “Let’s go, love. We have bows to make.”

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen called, trying to get his brother’s attention. “What are you doing? Where are you going? Wangji?”

Lan Zhan tugged off his forehead ribbon. “I secede, Xiongzhang, but we will come visit after our honeymoon.” He dropped the ribbon in his brother’s hands.

The poor sect heir gaped at them. “What? You can’t get married. You’re too young. We don’t even know this person. Wangji, you can’t secede. You can’t. Wangji!”

“Wei Wuxian, I don’t know what game you’re playing or how you dragged Lan-er-gongzi in on it, but stop it. Mother is going to skin you alive!”

They ignored the shouts and mounted Bichen together, holding tight to each other. 

“Take me away, husband. We have a whole new future to build.”

Lan Zhan responded with a deep kiss as they rose in the air and left the others behind.

Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanying, Sandu Shengshou, Sect Leader Jiang, could do nothing as he existed suspended in a void. Unable to escape he neither slept, ate, or breathed as he watched his younger self relive his life. 

Without Wei Wuxian, other cultivators avoided him, pushed away by his volatile temper. Even Nie Huaisang steered clear of him, proving that it was Wei Wuxian they were friends with in the first place. 

Without that traitor, he was the one who punched Jin Zixuan, causing the break in the engagement. While he didn’t have to leave Cloud Recesses, he had to kneel beside the peacock until his knees went numb and he could barely walk back to his quarters. 

When he told his father about Wei Wuxian’s defection, his parent simply nodded, his countenance more disappointed than sad. He took the money and nodded, stating that while he hoped the traitor would stay, he always suspected the wanderlust was too strong in him to remain in one place. Besides, Jiang Cheng’s mother would never allow a cutsleeve to stay.

His younger self agreed, stating that it was disgusting and would never be acceptable behaviour in Yunmeng. 

As much as Jiang Wanyin agreed with the sentiment, he didn’t understand why his parents’ marriage didn’t improve. His mother and father still argued about whatever made her angry that day. She still disappeared for days on end, devoting herself to nighthunts instead of running Lotus Pier. 

Meanwhile, his father paid little attention to the growing disrest among their disciples and the common people. Jiang Wanyin snorted in disgust at that. Of course, the rabble complained. They never changed, always expecting the same treatment as their betters. 

When his younger self became head disciple in Wei Wuxian’s place, he drilled the disciples with a ferocity that made Jiang Wanyin and his mother proud. These Jiang cultivators would know how to fight when the Wen attacked. 

It didn’t even bother him when their numbers started to drop. His mother insisted removing the weak links would only make Yunmeng Jiang stronger. While his father worried they might lose their status as a great sect. 

As money and resources shrunk, he had no choice, but to marry a-Jie off to one of Sect Leader Yao’s sons in return for a decent bride price. 

Jiang Wanyin screamed until he was hoarse when that happened. It was all wrong. It was all Wei Wuxian’s fault. He was supposed to stay. Without the fucking traitor, his mother inflicted her anger on whoever caught her eye. Those disciples with families refused to put up with such treatment and left to join other sects. Without the troublemaker’s flirting and friendly chatter, no one soothed their ruffled feathers. 

After a-Jie left, Jiang Cheng found himself alone. The other disciples he used to hang with, no longer treated him as a part of the group. He was an outsider in his own sect. This only made his prickly temper grow. His anger burned every time someone shared news of Wei Wuxian and his disgusting romance with Lan Wangji. As their fame spread throughout the cultivation world, they became known for helping whoever needed them. The common people loved them.

Jiang Wanyin sneered at that. The common people were so easily led, it was pathetic. They were cheating; they were manipulating everyone through their knowledge of the future. Even he could be a hero with that information. 

His younger self grew bitter as his former head disciple ran around playing hero to those too naive to realise he was nothing but the son of a servant. 

When Wen Ruohan, his sons, and Wen Zhuliu died under mysterious circumstances, Jiang Wanyin was almost grateful. At least, Lotus Pier wouldn’t burn. 

A year later, a-Jie’s husband died during a failed night hunt. Childless, Sect Leader Yao shipped her back to Lotus Pier. She made Jiang Cheng lotus root and pork rib soup her first day home. While Jiang Cheng was thrilled to have his sister back, she didn’t stay long. After her period of mourning was up, Jiang Fengmian renegotiated her engagement to Jin Zixuan, giving away precious land and waterway rights as a last ditch effort to save their failing sect. Though the marriage pleased his mother and a-Jie, who still loved the damn peacock, Jin Zixuan remained distant. After they married and she gave birth to Jin Ling, he withdrew from her, uninterested in having more than a superficial relationship with the girl he had no choice but to marry. 

Jiang Wanyin screamed his vitriol at the peacock, longing to skewer the pompous ass with Sandu. 

His sister devoted herself to her child, taking whatever joy she could from his existence. Eventually, she lived a separate life from her husband. She stopped cooking as the madam of the esteemed Jin sect didn’t belong in a kitchen. Few people visited her, finding her too nice, too boring for the intrigue that surrounded Koi Tower. 

The fucking traitor visited, though. She glowed when he came with his ice block husband and their fucking child. A-Jie doted on the Wen-dog, letting Jin Ling play with the kid and calling him her nephew. He and his younger self hated every moment they spent with his precious sister. 

They didn’t have the right to be with her. She died because of that street trash. Yet, when his younger self tried to steer her away from them, citing the damage to her reputation a relationship with such a repugnant, cutsleeve couple would cause, she got angry with him. Why? Why did she side with that damn fucker instead of her own true brother? He left in anger and didn’t come back until many months had passed. 

Still, Jiang Wanyin couldn’t do anything. Caught in his void prison, he screamed his hatred as he watched Wei Wuxian live a beautiful life as though they had a right to such a privilege. They bought a house in Caiyi, where they raised their children in the shadow of Cloud Recesses. Though they never rejoined the Lan sect, they built a close relationship with Lan Xichen, helping him reform the Lan sect until they became the righteous sect them always touted themselves to be. 

Even Lan Qiren, the sour bastard, came around to Wei Wuxian and their marriage eventually. He allowed their children to study with the Lan disciples and let both cutsleeves teach classes. 

It made Jiang Wanyin sick.

If that wasn’t bad enough, they helped those damn Wen-dogs the traitor had betrayed him for start a school focused on healing. Every time he had to see that miserable Ghost General, living and breathing as though he had a right to, he longed for something to destroy. 

It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t fair! IT WASN’T FAIR!!! 

He hated them with every fibre of his being. 

While their happiness grew, his own crumbled like ashes. Matchmakers blacklisted him, so he couldn’t find a decent woman to marry. Disciples left until the training grounds lay empty. Merchants and commoners deserted them, citing poor living conditions. His father tried to keep them afloat, selling off more and more territory to the Jin and Meishan Yu. He even sold Yiling to Hanguang-jun, who gave it and the Burial Grounds to Wei Wuxian as an anniversary present. 

Jiang Wanyin scoffed at that, thinking a mountain of death would be a curse on their marriage. Yet, the traitor turned that around too, cleansing the land with some annoying duet he wrote with his husband. Disgusting. 

Why did they have to parade their relationship around like that? They stuck it in everyone’s faces like it was normal, natural. And few people complained. Even Nie Mingjue with his reputation for justice accepted them. Sure, Wei Wuxian had to show off by solving the Nie issue with their sabres, but that was no reason to swear brotherhood with him. 

Well, with a didi like Huaisang, he supposed anyone would be an improvement. Still, it burned. No one swore brotherhood with him, not in this life or the previous one. 

Not content with forcing two of the remaining four great sects to accept them, the damn couple gained more praise by helping two rogue cultivators – another cutsleeve couple – start their own sect in Yiling. They actually gave the pair the cleansed land that was the Burial Grounds. Leave it to freaks to support each other and spread their pretentious presence everywhere. 

So what if they stopped the war? Who cares if they caught Xue Yang before he could do any real damage? Wei Wuxian would always be the son of a servant, a murderer with blood on his hands even if those he killed lived again in this life. 

Yet, no one could see it. In this new life where everyone should be happy, he still had nothing.  His parents barely spoke to each other. His sect collapsed, leaving them with a small estate on the edge of Meishan. They lost their home, his birthright. While Jin Guangshan died before he could completely absorb Yunmeng – no one could explain that one either – Lan Wangji bought Lotus Pier off his father for a steal.

How dare they! They didn’t have a right to his family’s home. The thought of those fuckers swanning around his home like they belonged there made him sick.

And to rub his face in it, he moved those fucking Wen there to help them establish their school of healing and medicine. Wen-dogs dirtied his home again, making it stink with their horrid scent. 

The final insult, though, came when Jiang Cheng fractured his core during a night hunt, trying to prove to his Meishan cousins he still had worth. He couldn’t even cultivate anymore. 

Oh, how Jiang Wanyin hated Wei Wuxian. The flames burned up the side of his face, yet he could do nothing about it. No matter how hard he searched, he could not find a way out of his prison. Even scuffing the array didn’t work. The spell would not break. 

Wei Ying laughed out loud as his husband buried their son in the bunnies they kept in their back garden. He was happy, so happy, he wondered if he deserved it. Lan Zhan kissed him and held him close when the doubts set in. His perfect husband would assure him they were safe. They knelt by their little radish, delighting in his bright smiles and clever eyes. The broken pieces of their lives put themselves back together and sealed the cracks with gold. 

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren Grandmaster Lan, Acting Sect Leader Lan, appreciated the soothing quiet of his ordered life. He rose, went through his morning ablutions, and meditated for the appropriate amount of him. Refreshed and ready for the day, he smoothed his beard before kneeling at the low table in his receiving room and waited for his nephew and breakfast to arrive. 

Like his life, he kept his home simply decorated with a painting of Cloud Recesses on one white wall, and the motto of the Lan founder, on the other. 

Righteousness. 

What more did they need? Adherence to the rules of their clan ensured a righteous life. These three thousand precepts built the foundation of the sect. They moulded each cultivator and servant and provided answers to any issue that arose. 

Qiren held them in his heart and soul no matter the situation, no matter what anyone else said. This was the way of life he instilled in his nephews since they were born and became his responsibility. 

Xichen, the eldest, was a strong lad, obedient to his elders and gentle with those around him. Though he tended to be oblivious to what made him uncomfortable, this weakness enabled Qiren and the elder council the ability to shape him into the leader their sect needed.  

Wangji, though, he was perfect. His youngest nephew was strong, talented, and completely dedicated to the rules. While he didn’t interact with his fellow clan members, he held the promise of becoming the first cultivator to ascend to immortality in a long time. 

If the future kept on its current path, which Qiren had no reason to suspect otherwise, the Lan would have an amiable leader they could guide, and the prestige of an immortal in their ranks.

Neither of his nephews would become their father, secluded for life because he married an evil woman, whose only redeeming act was to remove herself permanently from their lives. 

With all this in mind, he took a moment to appreciate the blessings of his life. Did he want to be acting clan leader? No. However, Xichen was almost old enough to take over, so he only had to put up with the position for a few more years. After, when he was free of the responsibilities, he could dedicate himself, fully, to teaching. 

That was his first love, his passion. He revelled in the opportunity to mould the younger generations into decent members of society. In fact, today, the future leaders of cultivation society were due to arrive. There was only one imperfection that had the potential to ruin this year’s lectures, Wei Wuxian, the son of the bane of his existence, Cangse Sanren. 

The boy was a troublemaking bane of existence like his mother. 

He tried to talk Jiang Fengmian out of sending the brat, but the Jiang leader didn’t want to separate his heir from his head disciple. The man had some foolish hope that the Wei boy would serve his son like Wei Changze served him. Like that turned out well. 

Perhaps, if Cangse Sanren hadn’t come between them, but she caused trouble no matter where she went. She had no discipline, no sense of order or respect. The woman even dared to reprimand him and cut off his beard in some theory of making a point. 

Ridiculous.

At that point in his thoughts, the door opened and Xichen swept in with perfect grace. As he took his place at the table, a servant entered and placed their breakfast between them. Once the man left, Xichen bowed and poured tea.

“Are you ready for lessons to start?” he asked, taking his cup from his nephew.

“Yes,” Xichen answered with a glint of excitement in his eyes. 

He always did get over excited when guest disciples came. Qiren cleared his throat and the boy settled down. 

“When does Wangji leave his period of seclusion?” he asked after they finished their congee in silence.

“This evening,” Xichen replied with his usual, pleasant smile. “He will be joining the lessons tomorrow.”

“Good.” Qiren gave a curt nod and dismissed him. 

Alone again, Qiren turned his attention to the day’s paperwork. He didn’t have to deal with students until tomorrow. For now, he needed to check for any last minute changes to curriculums and answer any questions his teachers had. Since he had been teaching the same lessons for years, he didn’t see a point or need to alter anything too much. While he might trim a minute off a verbose exercise created by one of the younger instructors or adjust one that hinted at unorthodox methods, overall, he believed in adhering to the tried and true. 

Satisfied with what he read so far, he made more tea and took a break to continue his current book. As he went to sip his favourite blend, his door slammed open, making him jerk and spill the liquid on the open page. 

“Xichen!” he snapped, grabbing a napkin to clean the mess. “What in heavens…”

“Uncle, Uncle, I don’t know what to do,” his nephew said, his face flushed and composure a mess. He held out his hand. 

Scowling, Qiren glanced at the contents of his grip. What could be so upsetting as to make his nephew react so. He leaned closer, his brain not comprehending what he saw. 

“It’s Wangji’s,” Xichen informed him with great emotion. He collapsed to his knees. “He has left the sect.”

Qiren slammed a fist on the table. “Control yourself!” He knelt and straightened his robes. This silly boy must have misunderstood. Wangji would never leave. “Explain.”

After a couple of heaving breaths, Xichen continued in a more calm manner. “On my way to the gates to greet the guests, Wangji crossed my path. I was surprised to see him out of seclusion early. Still, I asked him if he wanted to greet the guests, thinking it would be good for him, hoping he might make friends this year. He agreed and we continued to the entrance. I didn’t think about it too much then, but something about him seemed off.”

That didn’t make sense. “Off. Off how?”

He gave the slightest shrug. “The way he held himself was a little different, more confident, and there was a look in his eyes like he was somehow older.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Anyway, We proceeded to greet this year’s guests, but then the Jiang sect arrived.”

The Jiang sect. A shiver of dread ran down Qiren’s spine. No. No! 

“As soon as they came close, Wangji, he…”

“He what?” Qiren snapped, his patience running thin. 

Xichen’s voice dropped as though he hated to continue. “Wangji embraced the Jiang head disciple in a hug and twirled him around.”

“What!” Qiren demanded, his blood pressure rising. Was his nephew possessed? Did that damn Wei boy curse him somehow?

Xichen poured him a cup of tea, his hands shaking as he did so. “Please, Uncle. You know you need to watch your qi.”

Despite his rising anger, Qiren took a meditative breath and sipped his tea. “Continue.”

“They seemed to know each other and called each other by their birth names. Then they talked about something working. Wangji handed me his ribbon, and they left.” He stared at his brother’s ribbon as though it could clarify what happened.

“And you didn’t stop him?” Qiren demanded.

“It all happened so fast. I said we didn’t even know Wei Wuxian. I told him he was too young to get married.  but they…”

Married. “MARRIED?” he shouted as the word sunk in. He leaped to his feet only to have the world tilt on him. His vision blurred and he fell to the floor, coughing up blood. What, in the heavens, was happening? Wangji couldn’t, wouldn’t get married on a whim. His perfect nephew wouldn’t secede and run off with that, that… The thought slipped away as he lost consciousness. 

Lan Huan, Lan Xichen, Zewun-jun, Sect Heir Xichen, First Jade of Gusu, blinked several times before shaking himself out of his thoughts. He asked one of the many disciples wandering around outside to go get a healer before going to his uncle’s side.

Maybe the time for his uncle to step aside as acting sect heir was due soon. As much as he didn’t want to take over the job yet, the stress seemed to be getting to him. He would have to talk to the doctors about his uncle’s health. 

Then again, Wangji taking off to get married made him want to collapse on the floor and pass out too. He moved aside as the healer came in.

Angry shouting outside made him cringe. Still, he smoothed his robes and donned a calm smile before exiting the building.

“Zewun-jun! What, the hells, is this?” demanded the Jiang heir, his face almost as purple as his robes. “Is this an example of Lan hospitality? We arrive at your gate only to have one of your disciples grab our head disciple and leave? What, the fuck?”

What, the fuck, indeed, Xichen thought, pain jabbing him between the eyes. He rubbed at the spot. “Jiang-gongzi, I understand you are upset; however, please, watch your tone and restrain yourself. I am afraid I am at as much of a loss as you are as to what has happened. My brother…”

“Your brother?” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the gates. “That was your brother, so called ‘Perfect Second Jade’?”

Xichen tightened his smile. Why was everyone interrupting him today? “Jiang Wanyin. I must insist you lower your voice. Giving in to your temper will not help the situation. If you refuse to calm yourself, I will have no choice but to confine you to your quarters until I send a message to your father and he arrives.”

“They kissed! Wei Wuxian isn’t a cutsleeve, and your brother kissed him. But I’m the one who is in trouble?” he ranted, his hand clenched tight around his sword.

“Jiang Wanyin!” Xichen caught himself, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. “Jiang Wanyin, my disciples shall escort you to your quarters, and I will attend you after I have contacted your parents.” He nodded toward a couple of his strongest seniors, who bowed and took the Jiang heir away, the boy complaining the whole time.

Wangji, why? Where have you gone? He stared at the sky in the hope that his didi would suddenly appear.