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Chapter Text

The cold doesn’t seem to leave him anymore, not since the day he got that letter from Nie Huaisang. The cold was there, seeping into his bones, from the shock of the information given to him. His own brother, had he really done that? He remembers asking himself that question over and over that night, his knees to his chest on the floor of his bedroom.

He knows the answer now, it was made clear by the look on Jin Guangyao’s face that day. The man that kicked him down the steps of the Jinlin Tai was not his brother anymore, he never was. That man had been transformed by the world around him, the last fragment of who he had been was his friendly façade.

The cold had followed him into rage. He had turned the bitter betrayal into bitter hatred and seethed on the way to Mo Village, thinking of all the ways Wei Wuxian had described killing those who had hurt him and his family. But when he arrived to his mother screaming and crying, that vengeance had died in his chest, flames extinguished with the tears of grief that followed.

His mother is dead, and the floor of his new lodging is cold. His cousin had left him bruised and supplied only with the talismans he had on him. No food, no clean water, and definitely no bed. He’s on his own now, he realizes. Xue Yang disappeared a long time ago, and Nie Huaisang definitely isn’t going to visit him in hell.

He is alone. It’s just him and the library of Wei Wuxian’s notes seared into his memory.

The following morning he is not alone. His aunt comes barging in with his uncle, and the old man kicks him while she yells, telling him he was at fault for her dear sister’s death, as if she had not hated her just fourty-eight hours ago. She tells him the funeral service will be in the coming weeks, but he is not invited because he’ll be too busy replacing the labour his mother has missed.

“This is your fault,” She says, practically spitting her words out, “She died because of the shame you brought to her, harassing your own brother like that! Now the laundry is going to be behind by weeks!” The laundry is what she’s concerned about? And how much work was his mother doing for it to be behind for ‘weeks’ after just an afternoon?

Mo Xuanyu takes the beating, takes the cruel words, and wishes he could have revenge. Once again, his mind turns to Wei Wuxian’s notes.

His days start to meld together like that. He wakes to his cousin most mornings, looting his already few things and beating him when he tries to stop him. So his body is mottled in bruises and there’s a permanent ache in his bones, but it all becomes normal by the end of his first week. This is how it was before he went to the Jinlin Tai, just five times worse now that his mother is gone.

The night is cold as always, but at least the cool breeze soothes the bruises on his back. He can’t sleep most nights, so he lays on his stomach staring at the wall in front of him, imagining the swirls of ink in various forms. He can practically see the talisman in front of him in the dark, can nearly feel the rough paper in his hand.

There’s a bump against the wall from outside, and Mo Xuanyu tenses up. Is it his cousin? His cousin’s cruel friends? Could he fight back, since it’s night? There’s a soft scraping sound as the door slides open, and in a split-second he makes the decision to pretend to sleep.

The person’s footsteps are near silent and he doesn’t realize they’re right next to him until a careful hand cards through his hair and he tenses up reflexively. He knows his cover is blown, so he twists around and yells as he throws a punch- both to gear himself up but also because moving makes everything hurt more. His fist connects and pain blooms from his knuckles immediately.

The person in front of him doesn’t even flinch, but they do groan and bring their hand to their nose, trying to stop the bleeding. “What the fuck was that for, Yuyu?” The voice makes something click in his head immediately. “Xue Yang!?” He exclaims, squinting and leaning closer to the mysterious person’s silhouette. “Yes, you idiot,” Xue Yang sighs, sounding nasally as he’s still pinching his nose.

“Well, you’re the one that snuck up on me!” Mo Xuanyu exclaims in defense, but there’s no real fire in his words. “I thought you were dead,” He says after a moment, his voice breathless and weak. “I’ve just been travelling, avoiding the Jin, maybe killing a few cultivators, the usual. I was going stir crazy doing Jin Guangyao’s dirty work,” Xue Yang rolls his eyes and settles in next to the younger boy.

“Ah, right..” Mo Xuanyu curls in on himself a little at the mention of his brother, and what they were doing for him. In retrospect, the notes he had deciphered and talismans he had been asked to create, those were all being used for nefarious purposes. Nothing he had done will ever help someone like he dreamed of doing. His legacy will never hold a candle to Wei Wuxian’s.

Xue Yang snaps him out of his thoughts, “So? Did they seal your cultivation before kicking you down Jinlin Tai? Your back is basically one big bruise, you must have fallen pretty hard.” Mo Xuanyu winces and shakes his head, “No, it’s just…” He considers telling the truth about the abuse, but he really doesn’t want to look weak in front of his only friend, “You know how bad my cultivation is, a-Yang.”

In the dark, he can see Xue Yang’s face scrunch up, a clear look of distrust appearing. Regardless, he huffs and crosses his arms, “Alright then, whatever you say,” His tone isn’t all that convincing, but he’s dropping it for now so Mo Xuanyu takes the win. 

“So, how’d you know I was here?” Mo Xuanyu asks, pulling his knees to his chest and ignoring the ache of his ribs. “Where else would you be?” Xue Yang stays perfectly still under Mo Xuanyu’s intense stare, then sighs, “No one’s dead, okay? Be happy.” Mo Xuanyu just scoffs, “If it comes back against me, I’ll-” He stops because, what would he possibly to Xue Yang? He promised to never hurt him after that incident.

“You’ll what, huh?” Xue Yang leans in, his sharp teeth poking out from his lips in a way that made Mo Xuanyu’s heart skip a beat. His mind flashes to Nie Huaisang for a second, but that man is never coming back for him after what Jin Guangyao so confidently accused him of. If this is where he wants this to go, Mo Xuanyu is certainly not going to protest. “I’ll find a way to make you behave,” He threatens, leaning in as well.

Their foreheads meet, the tips of their noses barely grazing each other. Mo Xuanyu feels a familiar fondness bloom in his chest and he smiles for the first time in weeks. 

“Oh, really? That’s cute, I’d like to see you try,” He can feel Xue Yang’s warm breath against his face, and in an instant he’s pushed back against his kind-of-bed and his bruises scream in protest. He ignores the pain in favour of returning the passionate, rough kisses Xue Yang is bestowing him. It’s been so long since anyone has touched him without any harmful intent.

Mo Xuanyu wakes up to yelling and a sharp kick to his stomach. It takes him a second to recall the previous night, what he and Xue Yang had done. Two feral animals, entirely enraptured in each other. Well, he’s not sure if Xue Yang was also ‘enraptured’ in him or just wanted to get off, but he can certainly prove the feral part. Bite marks and new, carefully placed bruises ache all around his throat and chest and, embarrassingly, his thighs too. He had certainly not made Xue Yang behave in any sense of the word.

“You seriously still have the audacity to bring men here!? Who is this!? Mo Xuanyu, you are a blight on this family’s history!” It’s his aunt yelling, he thinks. He can’t really hear anything over the realization that Xue Yang must’ve stayed the night instead of leaving early like he usually did.

He lifts his head and sees Xue Yang on the other side of the room, knife out and pointed towards his uncle and a few guards. Their eyes meet, and Mo Xuanyu shakes his head just slightly. Xue Yang’s face hardens, a dark look taking over as he stashes his knife in his sleeve and bolts for the door, barely slipping by. The tension leaves his body instantly, and he lets himself ragdoll as his aunt continues to kick and berate him.

It takes a few weeks for the guards to stop coming every night, and then a few days later, Xue Yang comes in just as quietly as the first time. He doesn’t card through Mo Xuanyu’s hair gently, nor does he offer to hold him or soothe his bruises. His expression is still dark and angry as he speaks, “You have to get out of here. I’ll kill them, and then we can leave. Or, or take over the village for ourselves.”

Mo Xuanyu just frowns, “You know I can’t let you do that,” He says, which makes Xue Yang laugh incredulously and start to speak again, but he’s cut off. “I want to leave with you, I just.. Need more time. Just give me a bit more time, my mother is buried nearby,” He says.

All the fight seems to leave Xue Yang, just a flicker of frustration in his tone, “Right. I’ll be back in a few months then.”

Xue Yang does not kiss him before leaving. He does not touch him, neither to hug or hurt him. Xuanyu feels as though a piece of him is leaving with him. He doesn’t sleep well that night.

It’s only a few weeks later when his usual chores are interrupted by another servant telling him he has a visitor requesting to see him. A spike of fear runs through his chest, an aching, freezing feeling that leaves him nauseated. “Do you know who it is?” Please, anyone but.. “I saw a Nie escort coming in, but that’s all I know.” His heart sinks to his stomach.

He quietly finishes off hanging the laundry and goes to the hall where they usually receive guests. He can hear his aunt’s haughty voice before he even steps inside, and he cringes at the blatant lies she’s spouting. “This one forgives his interruption, but he was called?” He keeps his head down as he slides the door open, speaking softly but loud enough to be heard clearly.

The room quiets immediately, then Nie Huaisang stands up with a polite smile, “It seems Mo-gongzi finally arrived. As I said, I’ll be having a private word with him, but thank you for your hospitality Madam Mo,” He excuses himself. Mo Xuanyu quickly backs up as he starts heading towards him, and then in an instant they are alone. 

Nie Huaisang is nearly an inch shorter than Mo Xuanyu, but despite that his intense stare makes it feel as though he is towering over him. “Let’s go talk somewhere more private, sound good?” He smiles just a bit, and Mo Xuanyu swallows hard.

He’s persuaded into taking Nie Huaisang to his lonely little building, that still has no bed or any furniture at all really. There’s just a donkey grazing nearby, and a lot of hay stored inside. 

“So, uhm, how have you been?” Mo Xuanyu asks nervously as Nie Huaisang surveys his living space, scrutinizing his nothingness. “Tired, lonely without you,” He replies, “How have you been?” He asks, as if it was not clear with the way Mo Xuanyu’s body has become thinner and is still visibly mottled with wounds.

“Tired, lonely without you,” He repeats the sentiments, smiling nervously, “What, uhm, ..brings you here…?” The sect leader just gives him a look, one of his calculating looks, as though he was staring into Mo Xuanyu’s very soul. “I had to butter up Jin Guangyao for a while before asking where he sent you. I should’ve known it was here,” Nie Huaisang sighs, “I’ll get back at him for this, I just need time.”

“In the meanwhile,” He suddenly starts to smile, making Mo Xuanyu nervous all over again, “I’ll keep visiting you here. Hopefully since a powerful clan leader has shown interest in you again, they’ll treat you better.” He wants to tell him no, argue that it will only make it worse, but the look in his eyes seems so genuine that it makes him pause.

“Okay, thank you, Sang-gege,..” 

In the following months, Nie Huaisang visits Mo Village twice. He says he can’t come too frequently, lest he tip off Jin Guangyao in some way, but he comes anyways. It’s nice, and it makes Mo Xuanyu feel warm and fuzzy. Then Xue Yang appears next to his bed again, late at night as always. 

“Are you ready to leave?” He asks, his voice conspiratorial and sharp as always. Mo Xuanyu’s heart clenches, “I can’t,” He says as he looks down, unable to meet Xue Yang’s eyes. There’s a sharp breath, and then he groans, “What? If it’s about the killing them all thing, I swear I won’t if you really don’t want me to,” He promises.

“No, well yes, but,” Mo Xuanyu drags his hand down his face, knowing already that Xue Yang isn’t going to be happy about what he’s going to say, “Huaisang visited me a couple times. I can’t leave him behind, he’ll be devastated.”

Xue Yang’s face contorts in a way that Mo Xuanyu knows. He’s trying to hold back from being obviously upset, but that’s never been one of his strong suits. “You- what does he have to do with this? What, is he a better lay than I am?” He hisses, crossing his arms and behaving like a cornered animal. Mo Xuanyu frowns.

“We haven’t touched each other a single time, a-Yang, you know that,” He says, though he knows Xue Yang will not believe him, like he hadn’t the first time. “Whatever,” Mo Xuanyu feels his blood run cold as Xue Yang stands up and steps back. “Please don’t leave,” He tries to scramble up but trips on himself as Xue Yang continues to walk away.

His heart sinks as the door shuts behind his lover. Former lover? His eyes sting as he lays back down, he might as well try to get some sleep.

Chapter Text

“Sorry Little Apple, I can’t take you with me.”

It’s three years later that he steps foot outside of Mo Village. It’s nighttime and it’s cold and rainy. Autumn has just started in full swing with cool breezes and the trees turning colour. He didn’t admire his surroundings, focusing solely on making as much distance between the village and him.

Nie Huaisang had asked for his heart, and he wears that promise proudly through the band on his ring finger. Then he asked for his soul. Maybe he’s a coward, maybe he’s selfish, but Mo Xuanyu isn’t ready to die at 23 years old. Even still, he thinks he loves Huaisang with his whole being. So he’ll try to find another way to ressurect Wei Wuxian. 

The only place he knows that has such a large culmination of knowledge, yet is also somewhere Huaisang would not be able to look, is the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. It’s a mysterious group stationed at the border of realms, keeping the demons at bay from the mainland. It’s also renowned for having a large subgroup devoted entirely to knowledge, the Scholarly Peak, Qing Jing. That’s where Xuanyu needs to be.

His hike into the surrounding woods is treacherous, with mud and rain water seeping into his already tattered robes. He tries to stay on high ground, fearing mudslides coming down on him. Even trying his best, it’s not enough after hours of walking and exhaustion starting to settle in his bones. There’s a flash of lightning and he flinches. In the following darkness, he loses his step and starts slipping down the side of the mountain. 

He struggles to find purchase in the softened ground slipping by him, clawing at mounds of grass and watching as they squish and disappear under his hand. Eventually his body is completely at the mercy of gravity, so that he could only hope he reaches a safe stop.

Pristine white boots come into his vision when he finally reaches a stop. They’re expensive, because even through the haze Xuanyu can see little motifs of clouds embroidered onto them with shiny thread. Standing up is a feat on its own but a firm hand on his shoulder guides him. The sleeve of the man’s robes are also white, and also pristine. He wonders how they could be so well kept in a storm such as this one, then thinks maybe he’s concussed.

“Wei Ying?” The voice is abnormally soft for a man of his stature, and Xuanyu barely hears the name over the downpour. When he finally finds the strength to look up at the man’s face the first thing he notices is the ribbon across his forehead, clouds embroidered on that too. “Gongzi, are you okay?” He sounds more firm now, not as if his chest was hollowed out.

“I,..” Xuanyu starts, but then the pounding inside his skull decides to get louder, and he winces and recoils from the man. “There’s shelter nearby, please allow me to take you there,” He offers his arm and Xuanyu gladly takes it, the ground still swaying underneath him despite the fact that he stopped moving a while ago.

“What’s your name? I’m.. Xuanyu,” He struggles to get the words out with his head feeling as though it was full of liquid, sloshing around with each step. Somewhere in his scattered thoughts, he figures hiding his family name is a good idea. “Lan Zhan, courtesy Wangji” Is the man’s curt response. That name sparks some familiarity in Xuanyu but he can’t remember where he’s heard it before.

“A Lan? That explains the uhhhhh…. uhh… fluffy things? In the embroidery,” The word escapes him, even though he had thought it just a moment before. What is going on with his head? Right, concussion. “The clouds,” The Lan supplies, clearly a man of few words. “Right, yeah, those,” He mumbles back, getting distracted by a lone bunny running by, disappearing deeper into the woods. 

It does not take long before they reach a small town, with an even smaller inn. “Two beds,” Lan Wangji places a handful of silver coins on the table in lieu of a proper hello. The innkeeper scoffs something about cultivators under his breath and hands them a key, “Down that hall,” He gestures, and then Xuanyu is being guided down that same hall.

“Gongzi,” Lan Wangji starts, the slightest twitch in his brow betraying some sort of emotion Xuanyu can’t read. “Yes?” He surprises himself with the slur in his words, and the Lan rushes to steady him as he stumbles from a suddenly wave of dizziness. “Did you hit your head falling down the mountainside?” He asks.

“Ah, I think I hit a lot of things,” Xuanyu smiles awkwardly. He tries to steady himself but ends up leaning further into Lan Wangji’s hand on his bicep. “Come inside and sit down, its dangerous to walk on your own with a head injury,” He keeps his hand firmly holding Xuanyu up as he moves towards the bed. 

Lan Wangji produces a vial of medicine from his long sleeves and offers it to Xuanyu. He hesitates to take it, heart thumping loudly in his chest when he remembers his shizun’s soft smile and sweet-smelling tea. But a Lan is a Lan. Even through every betrayal he believes that rule stays the same.

“You should feel better by morning if you sleep now,” He says neutrally as he folds up his outer robe and lays down, looking like a corpse with how still he becomes. Xuanyu watches him incredulously, and a minute passes before he truly believes he’s just gone to bed like that. He takes a deep breath before laying down as well, curling up with his back to the wall.

For the first time in weeks Xuanyu does not have nightmares, but he wakes up feeling more achy than ever. Lan Wangji is already awake, shuffling around in the room quietly with two trays of food. Its probably not much to a high-ranking cultivator of the Lan clan, but Xuanyu salivates at the thought of eating a full meal.

“Good morning, Lan-qianbei, thank you for everything. This lowly one has nothing to compensate you with,” Xuanyu speaks carefully as he sits cross-legged across from him. He holds back a wince as his joints protest the position. Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything, taking a bite of rice and bok choy. He blanches at the silence and looks down at his own bowl, picking up the chopsticks and starting to eat as well.

There’s a soft clatter as Lan Wangji sets down his chopsticks not a shichen later, his bowls now empty. “You don’t need to compensate me,” He says simply, standing up and taking his dishes with him as he leaves the room.

Did he just leave? Xuanyu feels the blood drain from his face again, he's not sure what he did to offend him but he feels horrible! He doesn't even know where he is now, and hardly remembers how he got here. It's only been a day and he's ended up like this, how useless is he?

He would have been more helpful performing the soul sacrificing ritual for Huaisang. He lets a somber look take over his expression as he eats the last of his breakfast.

The door opens again and he barely keeps his jaw off the floor when he realizes Lan Wangji is back. For some reason, he feels a great weight come off his shoulders at the sight. “You'll come back to Gusu with me to heal properly.” And that weight comes right back, “What?” That gets him a look that has him scrambling to backtrack, fearing offending him further, “I’ll come with you, but this one has somewhere he must be so he cannot deviate from his path for long.”

Somehow, Xuanyu thinks Lan Wangji becomes a bit sullen at that but nods regardless, “Mn.” From there it's not long before they're on their way. Lan Wangji practically rushes Xuanyu out the door in the most demure, Lan kind of way. He then ushers Xuanyu onto his sword and they set off to Gusu.

Apparently, Xuanyu had travelled farther than he realized last night because they reached Gusu a little before dusk. Normally, even by sword that trip would've taken at least two days from Mo Village.

“Hanguang-jun, welcome back,” The guard standing post greets calmly, but when his eyes flit over to Xuanyu, he startles. “Is that Wei- no, who is that?” He asks, squinting to make out Xuanyu’s features in the low light. “This is my guest.” The guard bows his head immediately, wincing, “Of course, Hanguang-jun.”

Horror dawns on Xuanyu’s face as he takes in the esteemed title, realizing quickly why Lan Wangji was such a familiar name. How could he forget Zewu-jun’s younger brother?! Does he hold a grudge because of what Jin Guangyao said? So he sent his brother to retrieve him and bring him to Gusu? Xuanyu feels hesitant to walk into what’s become a metaphorical lion’s den.

Lan Wangji walks forward, then turns back to toss his jade token at Xuanyu, beckoning him forward. Well, he’s certainly not going to make it far while he’s hurt like this, so he resigns himself to his fate and follows in his steps.

“Apologies for not recognizing you, Hanguang-jun, this one has a bad memory. Is there any way to make up for my- my blatant disrespect?” His voice is meek as he struggles to keep up with his brisk pace. Lan Wangji barely turns his head towards him, that same neutral look on his face, before turning back to look ahead. Xuanyu wilts as they continue up the mountain.

At this time of day there’s almost no one around to see Lan Wangji lead Xuanyu to the Jingshi, and any of the junior disciples running around that may have know better than to say anything. 

“Is this your personal residence?” Xuanyu asks when they step inside. There’s a tremor in his voice as he looks around the small building, seeing clearly an office area, in the middle a place to practice guqin and eat, and then a bedroom off to the side. Only thin curtains separate the different spaces. “Mn,” Lan Wangji hardly acknowledges the question.

The night passes all too quickly for Xuanyu to really process. First, Lan Wangji brews tea and urges him to sit and drink it (he smells it first and finds its bitter, probably a medicinal tea). Then he leaves and comes back with a cot and bedding and sets them up in the opposite corner to his bed. He produces another vial of medicine too, handing it to Xuanyu before taking his wrist and checking his golden core. Whatever he senses makes him frown and pour Xuanyu more tea.

In just over two incense times, Xuanyu is laying down in the cot wondering when the other shoe would drop, when he’d be kicked out and left to fend on his own again. When would Zewu-jun come to see him? What would he do to him? He falls into a restless sleep.

Xuanyu wakes up to the smell of breakfast again, and his stomach grumbles at the thought of another meal. He gets up slowly, pulling on his outer robe before noticing a fresh set of robes at the foot of his cot, in Lan colours. He picks them up to inspect them, glancing over at the middle of the room where Lan Wangji is straightening out three portions of breakfast.

“Eat, bathe, then change,” He says simply, sitting down in front of one of the trays of food. Another sits across from him, steaming eggs and rice. Xuanyu’s anxieties from last night temporarily forgotten, he obeys and walks over to sit and eat.

It’s good. Not great, not exactly underseasoned but definitely not overseasoned, just sitting on that line of mediocre that makes it perfect. Xuanyu doesn’t think he’s ever had such a mundane meal before that it nearly brings tears to his eyes, but he swallows down the feeling with a bite of egg. It makes him completely forget to question why there’s a third tray.

The door to the Jingshi opens after a polite knock, and a young teen walks in smiling. “Good morning, baba,” He greets, then seems to realize Xuanyu is there. “Good morning, ..qianbei,” The teen takes a moment to guess at Xuanyu’s status. “Greetings, Lan-gongzi, apologies for uhm, interrupting?” Xuanyu returns the formal address.

“Not interrupting,” Lan Wangji says plainly, still having not picked up his chopsticks. “This one is simply here while he heals from a rough fall during last night’s storm, begging for gongzi’s forgiveness,” Xuanyu grovels despite that, wanting no ill-will with any Lans with his already precarious position.

The younger lan seems to flounder for a moment, looking to his senior for guidance and pointedly getting no look in return. “It’s okay, qianbei,” He even awkwardly returns the bow Xuanyu had given before (even more awkwardly) scuttling over to his seat and starting to eat. Lan Wangji picks up his utensils after watching his son do the same.

They eat in silence, and once again Xuanyu is the last one to be finished. They bring out their dishes to a spot where another disciple will collect them and Lan Wangji watches Sizhui leave to start his day with a softer look on his face than usual. 

Then it’s their turn to start their day. Xuanyu is directed to a small bathhouse that is clearly Lan Wangji’s private space, and he finally has a chance to properly wash off all the dirt caked into his skin. He tries to wash his hair, but it’s knotted and he can’t do it without hair oils and a comb. He tells himself he’ll get those later on his journey, so eventually he’s presentable when he arrives as Cang Qiong.

Now wearing the soft Lan robes, he goes back into the Jingshi wondering what he’ll do next. 

“You didn’t wash your hair,” Lan Wangji states. Xuanyu feels the colour drain from his face yet again, wincing, “Oh, it’s too knotted right now,” He explains. Lan Wangji doesn’t respond, going back to whatever he was writing with his usual neutral expression. 

Xuanyu withers on the spot, unsure of what to do. He takes a seat where he’d eaten breakfast and stares down at the table for a few minutes before a book slides into his vision. He looks up to find Lan Wangji in front of him, “Read this.” The book is simply titled ‘Beginner’s Guqin Practice’ with a drawing of the mentioned instrument, signed by neat small characters reading ‘Lan Zhan’. 

“Thanking Hanguang-jun,” Xuanyu skims through the pages, seeing small diagrams and the same neat handwriting throughout the entire book. “Mn,” He hums, then leaves the Jingshi. The room seems a lot bigger without the other cultivator there, a little colder.

Three days pass similarly, Lan Wangji encouraging Xuanyu to drink bitter teas and vials of medicines that sit warmly against his golden core. He bathes again and tries to detangle his hair, with no luck, and Lan Wangji looks at him strangely when he walks back into the Jingshi with the same, oily hair. He gets up, “Read any of the books in my library while I’m gone,” He says, before slipping out the door again.

“Did I offend him again?” Xuanyu frowns. Ultimately he decides to pick up the second Guqin Practice book, ‘Intermediate Guqin Practice’, and lay back down. The steam in the bathhouse made his head start pounding again so he promises to read it later and lets his eyes close. 

It's been no more than two shichen before he wakes up again to the sound of Lan Wangji returning, and his head still aches. “Sit here,” He orders, gesturing to the same spot where Xuanyu had sat every morning and night for meals. Xuanyu sits, feeling a little confused as to what’s going to happen, and stiffens when Lan Wangji takes a seat behind him.

He undoes Xuanyu’s hairtie and starts to comb through his hair carefully. A pleasantly scented hair oil eases out tangles and Xuanyu’s headache seems to go with them. Something in his chest aches and tears gather in his eyes, “Mama used to do my hair like this,” He mumbles, more to himself than for Lan Wangji.

“I’ve had a lot of pactice over the years thanks to Sizhui,” Lan Wangji hums, and wordlessly hands Xuanyu a handkerchief full of embroidered clouds when he starts to sniffle. Maybe he can stay an extra few days here, just to rest some more, of course.

Chapter Text

The trees’ leaves start to change colour when Xuanyu finally arrives at Cang Qiong, a full year after leaving behind Mo Village. The mountain is monstrously tall, and the peaks seem to truly reach the heavens like the stories say. He couldn’t even see the tops of them from below, thick clouds in the way. 

The last time he looked up at such a tall mountain was when he left Gusu, sneaking down the back of it with Lan Sizhui and Lan Wangji, bidding a tearful goodbye. 

He stands outside the Peak Lords’ meeting room nervously. He’d arrived yesterday morning, was led up the mountain by a kind Qing Jing disciple named Li Xinyi and stood before the sect leader to plead his case. The sect leader kindly told him that he’d have to confer with the rest of the peak lords first, and that Xuanyu should come back to Cang Qiong at the same time tomorrow morning.

Now, it’s tomorrow morning, and he’s watched all the peak lords slowly trickle into the meeting room one by one. There’s a man covered in scars, and he gives Xuanyu a toothy smile- though, he was missing a few. There’s a thin, pale man with prayer beads that hardly spares Xuanyu a glance. There’s two identical twins that walk by, one chatting animately and the other listening with a terribly annoyed expression.

“Liu-shixiong, it’s funny seeing you here,” A kind, but stern, voice calls out as two men land next to the meeting hall. One is wearing white and grey robes, and his hair is done up so perfectly and so high Xuanyu is getting a headache just looking at him. The other, with the kind voice, is wearing cream coloured robes, his hair is mostly loose and he wears little glasses that reminds Xuanyu of his grandfather.

“Mu-shidi…” The peak lord Xuanyu assumes is named ‘Liu’ mumbles under his breath, practically scittering by into the meeting room. The other man sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, “What am I supposed to do if my patients run away from me?” He says. 

He only notices Xuanyu once he’s walked forward a bit, and smiles amicably, “It’s cold on Qiong Ding this morning, shidi, make sure to warm up when you can. Couldn’t have you contracting a cold.” Xuanyu nods vigorously, realizing he must be a doctor- probably the peak lord of a medicinal peal. “Here, this is special candy, it’ll keep you warm while you’re stuck out here,” He hands Xuanyu a piece of hard candy wrapped in pink paper.

“Thanking Mu-Daifu,” He takes the candy like it’s made of glass, the random act of kindness resting strangely in his heart. “Take care,” His voice is somehow softer than his smile.

Xuanyu pops the candy into his mouth. Its sweet and milky tasting, and it seems to leave an itch in his meridians as foreign qi flows through them and warms him up. He’s just about done sucking on the candy when the sect leader walks by, waving at Xuanyu before going into the meeting room.

Half an incense’s time later, a disciple walks out and summons him. His heart races as he stands up, and he's not sure if it's because of nerves or because it's just been doing that since three months ago. 

Inside the meeting room, twelve peak lords sit around a long oval table, the kind sect leader at the very top of it. “Wei Xuanyu, you’ve come before us today to request to join our sect?” Yue Qingyuan prompts. Xuanyu nods, “I fled from the inland clans one year ago, because the land has become corrupted by greed and prejudice. When I tried to help an innocent bystander to it all, I was labelled a lunatic and criminal,” He explains, “I came to Cang Qiong so I could strengthen my cultivation and help my fiance, who’s trapped there for political reasons.”

“Why would we take in a weak disciple that we know is going to leave, and then wreck havoc somewhere else the moment he’s stronger?” One of the twins- the very annoyed one- pipes up from behind his paper fan. The sect leader is quick to jump in, “Cang Qiong takes in all who are willing to work hard for noble causes, and working hard for love is definitely in that category,” He sounds particularly nostalgic when he says that, but the other peak lord just scoffs loudly. 

“Zhangmen-shixiong, why don’t I bring xiao-Wei to Qian Cao for a medical exam? It’s required for all new disciples anyway,” Peak Lord Mu jumps in before tensions can rise any further, and the sect leader nods gratefully. 

“I’m Mu Qingfang, the peak lord of the medicinal peak, Qian Cao. It’s nice to formerly meet you, Wei Xuanyu,” He introduces himself as they head toward the rainbow bridge, “It’s a long walk to my peak, why don’t you tell me about your journey here? Was it difficult?” Xuanyu hums, “I was on my own, with only a little money. My golden core is barely good enough to practice inedia for a few weeks without getting weak, but I found there were a lot of people willing to trade a seat at their table for some talismans and labour.”

“This is An Ding Peak, the other bridge takes you to Qing Jing. Do you like writing talismans?” Mu Qingfang asks as they walk onto a peak that seems to be entirely brick roads, only a few trees and patches of grass scattered about. There are carts full of boxes or scrolls being tugged around everywhere, and all the disciples here wear loose robes so they can carry things without restriction. Xuanyu keeps his head down, pink flushing to his cheeks.

“My mentor, he was the best at talismans. He created a whole new way of writing them that meant they could be charged with qi, and then given to the common people, it was revolutionary! His talismans were half the reason why I survived on my own for so long,” Xuanyu answers excitedly. “You may enjoy the magical artifact peak Chuang Shi, they make talismans and qiankun pouches,” Mu Qingfang suggests.

Xuanyu nods thankfully, but he’s already sure of the peak he’s aiming for- Qing Jing, the scholarly peak. It holds possession of the largest library for hundreds of li, and Xuanyu hopes to find a resurrection spell in it. Or even something that explains how they came to be, how to manipulate the soul, or something similar. It’s all dark, malicious magic. He knows he’s grasping at straws here.

Maybe, if there’s nothing here, he can just stay and study talismans like he’s always wanted.

He shakes his head, as if to physically shake off those thoughts. He’s only just arrived here, he can’t be worrying about this yet.

As he’s reassuring himself, he and Mu Qingfang arrive on Qian Cao peak. It’s a grassy, flat plain full of buildings and triage tents. It holds the same sense of urgency as An Ding, yet even more so since here, disciples barely stopped to acknowledge their peak lord walking by. Some disciples don’t even spare them a glance as they run by with papers or medical supplies.

“This way, xiao-Wei,” Mu Qingfang leads him into a building and then down a quiet hallway. Most of the doors are open to reveal vacant rooms, with examination tables and desks fully stocked with all kinds of medicine things. There’s a disciple in one of them putting new, paper-thin sheets on the examination table, and Mu Qingfang asks her to fetch his head disciple and come help him in room eight.

“I’ll check your meridians first while Xiu Liyang is on her way. Then her and a senior disciple of mine will help you bathe,” Xuanyu tenses up at the thought of someone seeing him undressed. Mu Qingfang notices his displeased expression right away, “My disciples are very proper, if either of them touch you inappropriately they both know the consequences would be severe.”

The assurance hardly helps calm him- the same words could be said for Su-zongzhu or his Go teacher but that didn’t stop either of them from acting on their desires. “Unfortunately it is standard procedure so we can check for foreign insects in your clothing and hidden injuries you may have. You’ll be able to keep your undergarment on,” That manages to make him relax a bit, and Mu Qingfang smiles, “Now, do you have a medical history?” He asks.

Xunayu nods, “I’ve had two qi deviations,” He explains nervously, “None recently though, they happened while I was still cultivating my golden core. I was also… I was diagnosed with mania after experiencing a series of hallucinations,” He spits out the information as quickly as possible to just get it over with, embarrassment burning his cheeks red. “But it was because I was exposed to a lot of resentful energy during my studies, they’ve stopped now that I haven’t been around it for a while.”

“Resentful energy… I suppose it isn’t out of the question considering how you described the inland clans, but that’s very unfortunate. It poisons the heart meridians and kills slowly over time,” Mu Qingfang explains. “Give me your hand.”

Mu Qingfang’s qi is cool and calm as it seeps into his meridians, so different from Lan Wangji’s and so similar at the same time. The expression he makes when he reaches his golden core is the same shade of different and similar. “I’m surprised you made it here on your own from so far,” He sounds genuinely shocked as he pulls his qi back, “Your golden core is extremely unstable.” Oh.

Xuanyu realizes this must have been what Lan Wangji felt last year in Gusu, and why he had made such a complicated expression each time he checked his meridians. That’s why he made him drink that bitter tea each time, knowing he wouldn’t be staying long enough for a more intensive treatment. The realization makes him want to pout and cry from just how secretly caring the supposedly cold-hearted Hanguang-jun is. 

“It seems like you’ve taken a kind of bandage treatment, but it’s barely holding on now. You’re lucky to have arrived when you did, even a week longer on your own and I fear you would’ve qi deviated a third time.” He continues, “The first thing to healing your golden core is to get your body as healthy as possible, so I’ll start working on a simple treatment for that.”

There’s a knock at the door and Mu Qingfang lets in two disciples. “This is my head disciple Xiu Liyang, and a senior disciple, Zhao Chunling. I need to speak with them for a moment, but we’ll be right back.” The three of them filter out of the room and Xuanyu sits in silence, a bit relieved both of the disciples are women. 

He overhears some of their conversation, “Xuanyu…  very nervous, … suspect some ..sexually abused, be very cautious,” And his face flushes in embarassment. He’s not sure what gave that impression to Mu Qingfang, but he’s managed to hit it right on the mark.

They walk back in and soon Xuanyu is escorted to a private bathhouse. “We’ll take your clothes to be washed and give you some patient robes, they might be a little itchy since they’re cotton,” The senior disciple explains as they start to prepare for the bath while Xuanyu undresses. “That’s okay,” He’s been wearing the same three sets of thread-bare cotton robes since he arrived here, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell them.

The bath goes by surprisingly quickly for Xuanyu. They take care of his hair completely, and help wash his back, but leave the rest of it for him. The water is warm the whole time thanks to Zhao Chunling, and it leaves Xuanyu tingly and a little itchy from the medicine they had added to it. 

He feels a little faint when he gets up, and they offer to help him dry off and get dressed again when he stumbles over air in front of them. Embarrassed, he agrees.

Back in room eight, Xiu Liyang gives her report to Mu Qingfang and Zhao Chunling leaves, promising that Xuanyu’s clothes will be finished up by tomorrow. “I’ve prepared some medicine for your golden core, but we’ll be focusing on your malnutrition for the first week, just getting you in a stable routine for eating and sleeping should help,” Mu Qingfang explains. 

“I’ll gather some junior disciples for that,” Xiu Liyang offers, and Mu Qingfang nods, “Make sure they bring light meals and light calming incense at night.” Then Xiu Liyang takes her leave, too.

“Now, xiao-Wei, you’ll have to drink this tea and take this with it. It doesn’t matter when in the day, just as long as you take it,” He shows Xuanyu a box of purple teabags and a tin of green powder, “The tea and powder together will help strengthen your body and your golden core. It’ll probably be easier to take with a meal as to not upsets your stomach.”

There’s a knock at the door, just barely missing interrupting his last word. A peak lord- one Xuanyu had already nearly forgotten due to his mysterious way of blending into the background- peaks his head in. “Shang-shixiong, did you all come to a conclusion?” Mu Qingfang asks.

Peak Lord Shang nods, and Xuanyu thinks he compares to something like a mouse considering his nervous demeanour, even in the presence of just two juniors. “Yes, Qing Jing Peak has extended an invitation, along with others if he wants to go through his options. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t thrilled, but Shen Qingxia insisted, and you know how Zhangmen-shixiong is about them,” He explains. Xuanyu thinks he might be referring to the twin peak lords he’d seen.

“Ah, so I didn’t have a chance to snatch him up in the first place, that’s unfortunate. Xiao-Wei would do wonderfully on Qian Cao, or even Chuang Shi,” Mu Qingfang hums, “Wait here a moment, I’ve nearly finished my report for Qiong Ding’s archives.” The mousey peak lord wilts a little but aquiesced, turning to Xuanyu, “Qing Jing Peak is full of smart-asses, so-” Mu Qingfang clears his throat loudly, and the peak lord jumps, “I mean, they, uhm, they can be tough on new disciples. An Ding is a good place to hide from nasty shizuns since it’s so busy.”

“Ahem,” Mu Qingfang says again, more forcefully, “Shang-shixiong should get going now,” He advises as he hands him a envelope, “Have that delivered to Zhangmen-shixiong.” Peak Lord Shang nods and backs out of the room, nearly bumping into a disciple running by, and runs off as well. “I apologize for shixiong’s behavior, he’s been scolded by Shen Qingqiu too often to not make jabs at him where he can,” Mu Qingfang sighs, “But Shen Qingxia is very doting on new disciples, and something tells me both of the twin jades will warm up to you well if you accept their invitation.”

Xuanyu is a bit surprised to hear the Shen brothers be called ‘twin jades’ just like the Lan brothers, and it seems that even their personalities are similar. He hopes their relationship with Xuanyu isn’t the same as well, one doting and the other cold disdain. 

“You’ll meet them later today and have to see for yourself. For now, I’ll keep you here so I can monitor your condition, and so you don’t strain yourself while I’m not there to stop you,” Mu Qingfang sounds like he’s had to deal with that many times before with the way he sighs, “Did you eat breakfast?” When Xuanyu shakes his head no, he frowns, “I have to send a letter to Qing Jing, but I’ll have a disciple bring up food and some books to read in the meantime.”

Xuanyu nods gratefully and watches the kind peak lord who gave him milk candy leave the room. He expected the worst to happen today, and came out with the best scenario! Now his only worry is about how to win over a tough shizun who’s already got a sour opinion of him.

“A-Sang, what would you do here?” Xuanyu finds himself wondering. Nie Huaisang always had a trick up his sleeve to win someone’s favour in the snap of his fingers, and Xuanyu had always envied the way sweet words seemed to just drip from his tongue. Not for the first time during his journey, he wishes his partner in crime was here with him.

Chapter Text

The moment the big doors of the meeting room close, Liu Qingge starts speaking, “Bai Zhan will take him. He wants to fight for his fiance, it’s admiral.” Shen Qingxia’s eyebrows raise, “Wow, Liu-shidi, you never ask for disciples,” He gasps, and Shen Qingqiu almost audibly rolls his eyes, “Yes, I’m surprised Bai Zhan Peak hasn’t dried up yet.”

“Jiu-di, please,” Shen Qingxia sighs quietly. “Maybe An Ding should take him, we’re always in need of an extra set of hands. Hard work will make him stronger,” Shang Qinghua speaks up nervously, and Shen Qingxia narrows his eyes at him, realizing there’s something up almost instantly. “He said his fiance is stuck in a political situation, realistically you wouldn’t physically fight your way through that would you? He should join Qing Jing and learn the ways of a scholar to navigate politics,” He watches Airplane’s face fall and knows he hit it on the mark.

“Qing Jing will not take him,” Shen Qingqiu says quickly, and Shen Qingxia turns to look at him with his most powerful puppy-dog eyes and pouty face and he caves instantly, rolling his eyes and muttering “Fine.”

“Shang-shidi, if you could go down to Qian Cao and inform xiao-Wei of his offers,” Yue Qingyuan, “Unless anyone has anything to say, we can conclude this meeting.”

Shang Qinghua leaves first, running off on his sword faster than Shen Qingxia has ever seen him go. “Didi, I have some business on An Ding, but I’ll be back for my afternoon classes,” He tells his dear brother, who just scowls at him. “First you make me accept a weak disciple, and now you leave me for the morning? Just say you hate me,” He complains. Shen Qingxia just laughs, knowing that he doesn’t believe his own words. 

They separate, walking down opposite rainbow bridges, and Shen Qingxia’s expression hardens as he starts to make his way to Shang Qinghua’s office. That stupid author is going to reveal his secrets this instant!

… ‘This instant’ truly meant about twenty minutes later when the overworked peak lord finally got back to his office. He practically squeaked in surprise when he saw Shen Qingxia sitting at his desk, reading through the piles of papers sitting on it. “Cucumber-bro! It’s uh.. so nice to see you,.. I’m so busy today, can we talk tomorrow?” He winces.

Shen Qingxia just narrows his eyes, “Your desk is even messier than I remember, is it really so hard to make the peak lords do their own paperwork? These are all request forms, they’re supposed to fill out the whole thing not just what they’re asking for.” Shang Qinghua sighs, “I know, did you need anything or did you just wanna spend time with your best friend?” He teases.

“Who is Wei Xuanyu?” He asks. Shang Qinghua wilts, “Yeah that’s what I thought… Listen it’s complicated.” Shen Qingxia raises his brow, motioning for him to go on. “Well, see, I was in the process of writing up drafts for another story before we got sent here. I mean, it’s been like nearly fourty years for me here, I barely remember it! And even then, the story was far from finished, or even really developed at all, so, you know,” He rattles on, fidgeting nervously.

“Enough with the excuses, tell me what you remember,” Shen Qingxia insists. “Right right, I’m getting to that! So the premise was going to be set in a similar world to PIDW, but still an entirely different universe! I don’t know how it translated over to our world, I already tried interrogating the system but it wouldn’t give me anything!”

“Get to the point, you hack author!” With a fan whack to the head, Shang Qinghua whines, “It took me a second to recognize him, but Wei Xuanyu is actually named Mo Xuanyu. He’s just a side character that dies before the story even starts, the bastard son to the head of the cultivation world in that universe,” He explains, “I have no idea why he’s alive, or why he’s here of all places.”

“So what happens in that story? Who’s this fiance he mentioned?” Shen Qingxia questions. “Well, basically, uhm,.. I don’t really remember. I know Mo Xuanyu was supposed to sacrifice his soul for this all-powerful demonic cultivator to get revenge on his family, but that’s kind of it? I have no idea who this fiance could be, he’s supposed to be a disgraced cultivator, there’s no one who could love him!” 

Shen Qingxia frowns, “Well that’s kind of sad, actually,..” Shang Qinghua raises a brow, “He seemed pretty happy to hear he was invited to Qing Jing, so you can baby him all you want.” 

“That’s good,” Shen Qingxia smiles, “Now write down everything you remember about that book in your shitty english so nobody can read it. I need to know everything you do.” His jaw drops instantly, “I- I have other work to do, you know?” He argues. “Just send all these papers back and tell the other peaks to do their paperwork properly, then you’ll have time,” Shen Qingxia says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Have your head disciple bring it over when you’re done, I know your junior disciples will look through it and start rumors,” Shen Qingxia orders as he stands up, walking out of the office without even a goodbye. Shang Qinghua sighs and drops down onto his chair, looking at the huge pile of papers with disdain.

Next to it, a small silk bag sits, embroidered with green thread to have shiny bamboo motifs. Inside there’s a handful of chocolates, obviously handmade by Luo Binghe. “Aw, Cucumber-bro, you do love me!”

When Shen Qingxia gets back to Qing Jing, its the same time as an An Ding disciple arrives with a letter from Qian Cao. He takes it to the bamboo house, where Shen Qingqiu is brewing the calming tea Mu Qingfang had prescribed for qi deviations. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks, clearing his music scores off the table and grabbing a second teacup. 

“It was just something Zhangmen-shixiong said, I’m alright,” Shen Qingqiu practically grits out the words through clenched teeth, clearly he was not fine. “Sit down, I’ll pour the tea for you,” He glares, but sits down anyways and lets his brother finish preparing the qi-infused tea.

“After this we need to go to Qian Cao and introduce ourselves to Wei Xuanyu. Mu-shidi says he’ll need to stay there and be monitored for a few weeks at least, his health is very dire,” Shen Qingxia explains as he reads the letter he was given, “He’ll be put in a semi-permanent patient room, and he can only do a shichen of studying per day, if any. That poor boy…”

“Why are you so sympathetic to him?” Shen Qingqiu asks, squinting at him judgementally. “Well, uh… I guess he reminds me of us,” He replies, “And, Qi-ge.” Shen Qingqiu gives him a fiery look, but they were both thinking it. “You shouldn’t be too kind. Last time you took too kindly to a disciple, that beast forced himself on you,” Shen Qingqiu advises bitterly. “Binghe isn’t a beast, I told you that. He’s sweet, and I married him willingly,” His brother just rolls his eyes.

“Just don’t be too tough on xiao-Wei, please? At least not while he’s so sick,” Shen Qingxia smiles when he realizes he finally got through to his brother. No amount of walls that he puts up will stop his Gege from sneaking through to his cold heart! “Now let’s go see our new disciple,” He says, dragging his brother along with him as he leaves the bamboo house. 

A junior disciple sees them coming on the rainbow bridge and leads them to the patient dorms, where the attendant tells them which room Wei Xuanyu is staying. Apparently he and Mu Qingfang were together already so there was no need to wait for the Peak Lord to arrive. 

“Mu-shidi?” Shen Qingxia calls out after knocking as he peeks his head into the room. Wei Xuanyu is sitting at a table with Mu Qingfang, eating melon and talking about the weather or other unimportant things. “Please come in, we’ll need to discuss the treatment plan going forward,” He greets the Shens and pulls out two more plates of melon for them.

“Wei-shidi’s situation is very precarious right now, and he needs full days of rest and intensive care to make sure he can reverse the damage to his meridians. For the first week he should absolutely do no work requiring spiritual energy, just some simple calligraphy and maybe a stimulating game of Go,” Mu Qingfang explains. Shen Qingxia notices Xuanyu seem to wince at that.

“You may have teachers come during visiting hours, but make sure they know not to stay for more than a shichen. I expect you to make sure you don’t overextend yourself too, xiao-Wei,” Xuanyu nods dutifully. “So our new disciple is weak, and on the verge of death. Lovely,” Shen Qingqiu’s sarcasm is entirely unappreciated by everyone in the room, and Shen Qingxia is about to scold his brother when Xuanyu speaks up, “It’s not my fault my half-brother is a powerhungry asshole.”

A stunned silence encompasses the room. Even Xuanyu looks surprised by his own outburst. “I suppose it isn’t,” Shen Qingqiu replies after a moment, smirking behind his fan. Shen Qingxia squints suspiciously, there’s no way he’s actually smiling, is he?

“And, I’ll need to have a rotation of peak lords able to do small qi transfusions for xiao-Wei to help smooth out his meridians. Normally I’d have my senior disciples do it, but his core is too unstable and it would be unsafe for both parties. I can’t do it every day without burning myself out,” Mu Qingfang explains, cutting the weird tension forming away easily, “I’ll send out a schedule for it before the end of tomorrow. Shen-er-shixiong likely won’t be on the list because of your damaged meridians, but I’d recommend coming from time to time to get to know xiao-Wei.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Shen Qingqiu waves it off, and Shen Qingxia wilts, he really thought for a second he was starting to like Xuanyu! “I’ll be teaching him personally in the afternoons. I’m the only competent Go player on Qing Jing anyways,” He scoffs. This man is a whirlwind of emotions! First Shen Qingxia is happy, but then, that offhanded insult!? “Hey! I’m not half bad at Go!” He claims.

Shen Qingqiu just raises his brow.

“We’ll get going if that’s all then. I’ll come by to test your skill in calligraphy, Go, guqin, and painting, those are the four arts a good scholar will master. If you’re abysmal at playing the guqin, we can find an master of the Xiao or another instrument you’d like,” With that, Shen Qingqiu stands up and Shen Qingxia is quick to follow. Xuanyu tries to stand to bow as they leave, but stumbles. 

“See you soon, xiao-Wei!” Shen Qingxia waves goodbye and closes the door behind them as his brother all but leaves him in the dust with his fast pace. “Hey! Jiu-di,” He whines, running to catch up with him, “So? Did you like him?” He asks teasingly, instantly catching on to the way Shen Qingqiu just looks away instead of responding.

“I knew it! He’s adorable isn’t he? So tiny I think a Three-Tailed Boar would eat him up in one bite!” Shen Qingxia gushes, feeling a bit of cute aggression over the boy. “He’s over twenty years old, Xiongzhang,” Shen Qingqiu reprimands, refusing to acknowledge his own cute aggression, surely. Shen Qingxia just laughs, “You can still be cute as you get older! Look at Liu-shidi, he’s adorable too. Like a tiger cub!” That earns him a particularly nasty scowl.

Chapter Text

Xuanyu, despite everything that happened the previous day, spends all morning thinking about the clans. He can’t let go of the thought of Xue Yang coming back to Mo Village to find him gone. He can’t help but wonder what Huaisang will think when he goes back to find him missing. He wonders how Lan Wangji is doing, missing his spouse, without Xuanyu to fill in that void. And Lan Sizhui, with just one parent, who’s still mourning their loss.

Mu Qingfang seems to notice his turmoil when he checks his meridians, and starts to brew a calming tea. “Shen Qingqiu will be arriving soon, please make sure you don’t overextend yourself during your lessons,” Mu Qingfang has been stressing the ‘lots of rest’ part of his prescription very much and Xuanyu is trying to take the advice in stride, but failing. All he wants to do is start cultivating right away, to not waste another day sitting around and waiting for answers to fall into his lap.

Despite his inner thoughts, he nods, “I’ll try not to strain myself.” Mu Qingfang smiles, “Good, I’ve got to go now but I will be back for dinner to help you prepare your medicine properly.”

Xuanyu reads one of the books brought to him yesterday (an interesting encyclopedia of medicinal plants from the demon realm) and it’s not long before there’s a gentle knock at his door and Shen Qingqiu walks in. He’s wearing a lighter set of robes now, less stuffy looking than the ones he wore for the meeting yesterday, and has less of a scowl on his face. His folding fan has a beautiful landscape painted on it.

Another disciple comes in behind him, holding a few scrolls of paper and brushes, and a guqin in his other hand, with a Go board balanced between it all.

“We’ll test your writing competency first,” Shen Qingqiu has the disciple place everything down and then sets out a scroll and starts grinding up ink as they leave. “I’m assuming your were at least somewhat taught how to read and write?” He says, and Xuanyu quickly nods, “Yes, I was taught how to write for talismans.”

“For talismans,” He repeats back to him, his voice strangely strained. Xuanyu nods again slowly, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Write a talisman for me on that,” He orders, finishing up the ink and pushing a brush towards Xuanyu.

Carefully, Xuanyu dips the brush in ink and starts to write out Wei Wuxian’s spirit-protection talisman. Shen Qingqiu watches him in horror, and just stares at the page blankly when Xuanyu turns it towards him, “What does this say?” He asks, and any hope Xuanyu had is crushed even further. “It’s a protection talisman my mentor created, it’s the characters for spirit attraction and spirit dispel,” He explains with a meek voice.

“... I’ll have you paint something next,” Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even acknowledge his handwriting, rolling up the scroll and replacing it with a brand new one, “Draw something you’re comfortable with.” Eager to prove his worth, Xuanyu gets right into it. Painting is one of the few things he actually enjoyed doing during his time at Lanling.

His teacher was a beautiful woman who insisted he call her Popo when no one was around. She loved drawing flowers, but recognized his talent for drawing figures and helped him cultivate his talent into a real skill. So he sets his sights on the hardest thing to draw in the room- Shen Qingqiu himself.

He has a hardset expression, and a bit of a thinner face than Lan Wangji, but otherwise they’re both the same kind of cold beauty which Xunayu finds especially rewarding to capture in his art. The painting takes up the first half of the shichen they have with each other, and despite this Shen Qingqiu watches patiently. When he takes the paper from Xuanyu he makes a pleased noise, “There’s hope for you yet.” 

“Testing you on the guqin will be quick, and then we can play a game of Go,” He gestures towards the expensive looking guqin sitting next to them. It has familiar bamboo motifs all over it, with silver and green painted on to compliment the yellow wood. “Is this Peak Lord Shen’s personal instrument? It’s beautiful,” Xunayu asks.

“It is. It’s getting old now, be gentle with it,” Shen Qingqiu orders, and Xuanyu nods. Of course he’d be careful with such an important instrument! Even just one scratch could cost hundreds of spirit stones in repairs. “Were you trained to play the guqin?”

“Sort of,” Xuanyu winces, “It was only about a week of formal instruction, but years prior I had watched my, uh, my half-brother play a lot so I picked some things up.” Shen Qingqiu hums, “I suppose that’s better than a complete beginner. Play something you’re comfortable with.”

Xuanyu pauses in front of the guqin, trying to remember one of the intermediate songs from Lan Wangji’s instruction book. They were still on the lower end of difficulty, but impressive for his skill level. He tries not to hesitate as he begins to play, making mistakes here or there but ultimately doing well. “Your posture is good, but you’re not confidence enough to use the instrument to it’s full potential. We’ll work on it,” Shen Qingqiu says once he’s done, “Let’s start a game of Go, but I expect that we’ll only finish it tomorrow.”

He’s right about that. They spend the rest of the shichen in an intense game, and are interrupted halfway through by Mu Qingfang telling them Xuanyu needs to go back to resting. Still, it was fun and challenging while it lasted so he doesn’t complain too much about having to go back to laying down.

A month goes by on Qian Cao quickly in that tiny room, where he meets a handful of other peak lords more formally and grows closer to his new Shizun and Mu-shishu. He watches the landscape outside his window go from autumn’s warm tones to winter’s frigid blues. He starts thinking of a new talisman that might warm the air coming into his room so he could stop shivering so much. 

He started meditating again a week ago, just gently pulling qi through his core and refining it into pure energy to heal his meridians. The qi boosts from the peak lords were certainly helpful when it came to that.

Zhao Chunling was the one most often coming to his room, sometimes with Head Disciple Xiu in tow. They would always sit around the tiny table in Xuanyu’s room and gossip about whatever was going on that week. Just recently, a disciple from the ascetic peak Ku Xing was found trying to sneak onto Xian Shu. And in more normal news, the Bai Zhan peak lord was back from a month long mission to clear out a hoard of demons overtaking a village near the borderlands. 

Xuanyu vaguely recognized the name Liu Qingge from the very first day he arrived on Cang Qiong. He must have left for the mission that night, or even right after the meeting. Either way, Zhao Chunling was complaining about him being back already since it meant they had doubled their amount of patients already. 

The three of them are chewing on candied oranges when Mu Qingfang knocks on the door. They all get up to bow but he waves it off, “Please, sit,” He says as he goes for the last empty chair around the table. “Xiao-Wei, you’ll be leaving Qian Cao tomorrow afternoon, once I’ve done a last check on your meridians. In similar news, Shen Qingqiu won’t be coming for your lessons today since we’ll be going down to the market.”

Xuanyu nods his understanding, “Can I still study alone?” He asks. “Actually, your Shizun has sent his head disciple as a replacement, his name is Ming Fan. He’s Shen Qingqiu’s head disciple so I’m sure he’ll treat you well,” Mu Qingfang explains. 

There’s another knock at the door, “Ah, that should be him now actually,” Mu Qingfang stands to let him in. “Apologies for being so early, but I have duties to attend to at the usual time of your lessons,” The first thing Ming Fan does is bow with another apology tacked on. Xunayu is kind of impressed. He’s not sure why, but he expected someone with a little less tact and a more brutish figure, but Ming Fan is pleasant to look at and seems to have manners.

Xiu Liyang and Zhao Chunling bid their goodbyes, and Mu Qingfang leaves after reminding them of the shichen time limit. “You’re Wei Xuanyu correct? You can call this one Da-shixiong, or Head Disciple Ming if Shizun is present. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Xuanyu stands to bow as well, “This one greets Da-shixiong, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Tomorrow I’ll have a senior disciple give you a tour, her name is Huang Xiangmei. She’ll show you how ot take care of the duties I’ve assigned to you as well. Because of your stunted cultivation they’ll be light tasks until you’re fully healed,” He explains further, “Now, Shizun says you have trouble with calligraphy, so we’ll focus on that today.”

It feels like it takes forever before Xuanyu wakes up to his last morning on Qian Cao. He eats breakfast with Mu Qingfang and they go through a couple exercises to test his core and meridians. He’s still fragile, but Mu Qingfang clears him to start doing small tasks on Qing Jing, and do a couple more hours of study each day. 

It’s particularly cold out that afternoon with the wind howling through the peak without care for those without proper winter robes. 

Mu Qingfang brings them over to his personal residence first. It’s a quaint building with only the essentials for living, a bedroom, a place for receiving guests and dining, a kitchen, and a washroom. There aren’t many decorations, but every surface available seems to have some kind of book on it. There are manuals, stories, medical records, encyclopedias for plants or beasts or fruits or trees. Even standing just in the entryway, Xuanyu can’t count how many books he can see.

Mu Qingfang comes back from his bedroom to with a dark green outer robe lined with fur. It looks extremely expensive and very, very warm. Then he offers it to Xuanyu. “What can I do to thank you?” Xuanyu practically has tears in his eyes as Mu Qingfang wraps the robe around his shoulders. “Stay healthy, and wear this whenever you go outside, no exceptions. Getting a cold with your constitution will make things very difficult for me.”

Despite his efforts, Xuanyu sniffles as he nods, “Of course. Thanking Mu-shishu.”

Then they continue on their way to Qing Jing, with Xuanyu feeling much warmer. On the scholarly peak, a thick bamboo forest covers most of the land, especially around the edges. Shen Qingqiu meets them at the end of the rainbow bridge, Ming Fan and another disciple at his side.

“Wei-shidi. You’ve met Ming Fan, this is Huang Xiangmei. She’ll be showing you around and helping you for the next few days,” Shen Qingqiu starts to explain in lieu of a greeting, “I have a class to teach, find my brother if you need anything. Thank you for walking him over Mu-shidi.”

“Of course, Shen-er-shixiong,” Mu Qingfang smiles politely and Shen Qingqiu unfolds his fan in a dramatic flourish, covering his face and walking away. Mu Qingfang just smiles more and pats his shoulder, “Be safe, xiao-Wei. I’ll visit in a few days to restock your medicine.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Huang-shijie is friendly, if a bit of a quiet person, and she shows him all the important buildings he’ll be in and out of every day, then shows him what he’ll be doing to help with laundry. It honestly seems like boring work, but there’s no hard labour so he won’t be complaining about it anytime soon.

Huang-shijie shows him to his dorm, explaining that he’ll be in the single unit building at special request of Shen Qingqiu. “Usually we only have senior disciples in here, so don’t go telling anyone about where you’re sleeping, okay? Shizun’s probably just looking out for you since you joined at a weird time,” She says, “Now you have a couple hours before curfew. Feel free to explore, just don’t get in anyone’s way and be back before it gets dark out.”

He nods dutifully and she smiles, “I’m lucky to have another cute shidi to look after,” She pats his head and walks off to get back to her own chores. Xuanyu finds himself at a loss, just what is it about him that makes everyone think he’s cute? He’s a fully grown man! He’s only a little short compared to the average person!

He decides a nice walk is in order. With his shiny new winter robe he can finally go outside and stretch his legs properly, and it’s a nice bonus to get a bit more familiar with the peak’s layout. So he takes a look around his dorm, seeing the bag he came with already sitting on his bed, and he sets off into the bamboo forest.

The bamboo is rich with qi from hundreds of disciples forming their golden cores here, and the air is heavy around him with it weighing on his shoulders. He thinks this would be the perfect spot to sit down and meditate until curfew, so quiet he could only hear his breathing and the gentle humming of life around him. 

He sits down in a small clearing with a perfectly flat rock protruding from the ground. In lotus position, he breathes in the heavy, qi-filled air. He closes his eyes and focuses on his core, his vision expanding to a sixth sense, every living thing in the area pinging back to him with their own unformed cores. Then an all encompassing presence practically slaps him in the face, knocking him out of his meditation and making him lose his focus.

When he turns around to find the source, heart beating out of his chest, a large man steps into the clearing. He’s taller than the sect leader’s already towering height and his chest is broader too. His hair is curly and his eyes seem to glow a bit in the dark, and he has an interesting huadian decorating his forehead. His dark robes only serve to make his skin look even warmer in contrast. In short, he’s the most handsome and dangerous looking man Xuanyu has ever seen. 

“Who are you?” The man asks, and wow, his voice is deep and so so attractive, it’s like honey melting through Xuanyu’s guard. “I’m Wei Xuanyu,” He replies after a moment, “Who are you?”

There’s something about the man that is absolutely mesmerizing to Xuanyu, at the effect becomes even stronger when all of the man’s tension disappears and he smiles, “Oh, you’re the new disciple Shizun was talking about. My name is Binghe.”

“Oh, its nice to meet you, Binghe-shixiong,” Xuanyu smiles back nervously, “What peak are you from?” Binghe looks down a his robes and suddenly starts grinning, “Oh this is the Bai Zhan uniform, my shizun is Liu Qingge. Qing Jing has higher authority than Bai Zhan, so even though I’m technically your shixiong, please just call me by Ge.” 

Xuanyu flushes, “That’s such a personal title though! I couldn’t presume like that,” He waves his hands dismissively and shakes his head. Binghe just keeps smiling, a perfectly amused look on his face, “You’re not presuming if I’m telling you to. Call me Ge,” He insists and Xuanyu, having never won an argument like this, gives in instantly.

“So do you come to Qing Jing often, uhm, Binghe-ge?” He asks as Binghe takes a seat acoss from him. “Yes, I’m… Well, it’s not common knowledge but my shizun is hopelessly in love with Shen Qingxia, you see, so he has me deliver love letters to the bamboo house,” He explains, adopting a more serious expression, but still grinning like crazy. “Ohhh, I see! That’s so cute! Isn’t he worried that Shen-shixiong will think you’re the one writing the letters though? You’re so handsome, I think he’d ask you out,” Xuanyu exclaims.

Binghe chuckles, “He thought that at first, actually, but I made sure to clear it up. This lowly disciple couldn’t imagine stealing Shen Qingxia out from under Shizun’s feet, that’d be rude!” There’s something like sarcasm in Binghe’s voice, but Xuanyu can’t tell why.

“That’s so sweet,” Xuanyu hums, smiling, “Liu-shishu is really lucky, he has a trust worthy disciple and such a pretty crush who’s totally into him! You know I heard Shen Qingxia talking about a man he liked, it must have been him. Super-ultra pretty and tall, that’s Liu-shishu down to the letter right?” He asks. Binghe laughs, “Yes, yes it is.”

“I knew it! Waah, they’re so cute,” He grins, “Does Shen Qingqiu know about it? He seems pretty protective over Shen Qingxia.” Binghe nods, with that same smug grin, “Yes he does, he’s not too happy about it though so don’t mention it to him.” 

“Now you should get going before curfew, the sun will start setting soon,” Binghe reminds him, “But if you come back here in the afternoon tomorrow I’ll try to come by again.” Xuanyu nods, “I will if I can finish my chores on time! It’s been nice talking, I’ve got to go now,” He waves and they both disappear into the bamboo forest, going in opposite directions.

He finds himself back in his dorm before he even realizes he arrived at the building already. The room is clearly supposed to be one of the lower-end ones but the bedsheets are still soft, and the pillow is comfortable.

Xuanyu falls into bed and twists around to stare up at the ceiling, heaving a heavy sigh. It’s not long before Nie Huaisang invades his thoughts, with his bright smile hidden behind the fan that Xuanyu had painted for him. He thinks about the nights they shared, the engagement rings they bestowed to each other, the promises said. 

Xue Yang sneaks into his thoughts too, just like he’d snuck into his little shack back at Mo Village. He remembers his hand carding through his hair, and his sly words. He remembers the days they’d worked together in that tiny office under Jinlintai, testing new cultivation techniques. He remembers his expression when he left that final time.

“A-Sang, a-Yang, I’ll be back soon,” Tears come easily behind closed doors, and Xuanyu is all alone tonight. 

Chapter Text

Huang-shijie comes by his dorm in the morning to show him to the laundry building. “Shizun will start your private lessons again in a few days, but he wants you to get settled in first. Those will be in the afternoons though,” She explains, “Now, its best you get started now so you don’t get stuck here until dinnertime.”

The laundry work is easy, reminiscent of his time at Mo Village before he was labelled a lunatic and locked away in the back courtyard. While that would normally be a bad thing, there’s been so much new in his life lately that the familiarity is somewhat welcomed. 

Time goes by quickly with his mind completely focused on cleaning stained robes. Most of the other disciples around him are young, maybe a year or two into their cultivation, and they all look like they were young masters from rich families. When they noticed him going at a much faster pace than they were, they crowded around him and tried to copy his movements.

“His washboard must be enchanted or something, how is he already done!” One of them laments when he stands up to go get lunch. “We’ll ask for help tomorrow,” Another one replies.

In a couple shichen, he finds himself back at the small clearing in the bamboo forest, sitting on that same flat rock, waiting for Binghe to appear again. He meditates in the meantime, refining qi and strengthening his core. He would never be as strong as someone like Lan Wangji or even Mu Qingfang due to his weak base, but hopefully he could get himself strong enoug that he doesn’t have to fear qi deviations so often.

“You have good posture,” Binghe’s honeyed voice startles him out of focus, “Do you like meditation?” He asks. Xuanyu nods, “It makes time pass faster, and it calms me,” He explains, “I find it easy to do, which helps.”

“What do you like to do to pass the time?” He asks and Binghe hums, “I like to cook, but I don’t have much time to myself these days. I have a lot of duties to attend to,” He replies. “My mentor liked cooking too, but he always added a lot of chili oil to recipes,” Xuanyu grimaces at the reminder, “I learned very quickly he usually added too much.”

Binghe laughs, “It’s a very delicate ingredient, I think just a spoonful would kill some of the disciples on this peak, they’re so used to barely seasoned food.” 

“Do you think you could teach me how to cook sometime? I’ve been really interested in learning to make sweets,” He asks. Binghe smiles, “Of course, next time I’ll bring the ingredients to make some easy candy, we can start there.”

“Thank you so much Binghe-ge!” 

He comes back the next day, and the next, and the next. When he starts classes with Shen Qingqiu, he and Binghe have a little less time to talk, but they still meet whenever they can. Xuanyu finds that as much as he likes talking to Binghe, with the cold getting more and more biting each day he doesn't really mind the time crunch.

They end up talking about all sorts of things. Binghe explains some inter-sect politics between Bai Zhan and Qing Jing, and An Ding and the rest of the peaks (apparently Shang-shishu is married to a demon! Scandalous), and even a strange connection between the sect leader and Shen Qingqiu. In turn Xuanyu talks about life further inland, skirting around the rougher topics like the corruption and his personal experience there. 

They also start cooking. Using a heating talisman and a makeshift stove, they can cook a little, but Binghe mostly just brings food and recounts the recipe with Xuanyu. He’s taken to bringing a notebook with him when he goes, so he can write down all the recipes. It cost him a lot of his allowance and a promise to do some extra chores to get said notebook but it was worth it.

Over time more personal topics are brought up too. Xuanyu had been picking at Binghe about the love letters Liu Qingge was sending, and that had spiralled into a discussion about both their love lives. “Well, I actually only came here because I made a promise to my fiance,” Xuanyu explains, “I haven’t seen him in over a year now. But that doesn’t matter, does Bing-ge have a crush? Hmm?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and Binghe laughs. 

“I’m a married man, I don’t get crushes,” He waves his hand dismissively, and Xuanyu makes a shocked noise, “Married!? How come I haven’t heard about this until now? Is she nice? Pretty? Strong?” He rattles off questions. “I’m married to two men, actually. They’re both very pretty and very strong,” He preens, and Xuanyu is just even more stupified, “Whoa..”

“I didn’t know you were allowed to like two people at the same time,” Xuanyu’s voice surprises even himself at how meek it sounds. “Of course, as long as you talk to both of them about it and they agree. It’s all about communication,” Binghe explains, “It helps when they both like each other too.”

“Waah, that sounds like heaven,” Xuanyu sighs. It’s already a little late for communication with Nie Huaisang, and it’s certainly too late to even think about it for Xue Yang. “You’ll find your own heaven if you’re looking for it, Wei-di,” Binghe says, suddenly sounding very serious, “It takes a long time, but it’ll happen if you keep working for it.”

Strangely touched, Xuanyu nods quickly and promises he’ll keep looking towards his goal. These past weeks have been mostly mundane, working on his chores and doing lessons, sleeping off the achiness in his joints and itchiness in his meridians. He’d had no free time to look in the library yet, or even think about what he came here to research. 

With a renewed sense of purpose, Xuanyu tells Binghe he’ll only be able to visit in a couple days and sets off for the dorms. A day of research is ahead of him!

Half a year passes on Cang Qiong like that, and six months into his stay Mu Qingfang finally clears Xuanyu to start seriously training his core. He’d been taking special teas, powders, pills, and had eventually started doing scheduled meditation with a Qian Cao disciple each day, and it was all paying off today! 

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Shen Qingxia exclaims, “We’ll have a little dinner party at the bamboo house to celebrate, does that sound good xiao-Wei?” He asks. Xuanyu panics, looking over to Mu Qingfang who nods just the slightest bit, and so he nods too, “Yes, that sounds nice. Thanking Shen-shixiong for the consideration.”

Shen Qingxia brushes off the formality, “You always have to celebrate your accomplishments, or else life gets dull,” He says, “Come by this evening, Mu-shidi can too! I’ll invite Liu-shidi as well, since he’s been asking about you. He thinks you should’ve joined Bai Zhan.” 

“Anyway, I’ve got to run to my afternoon classes, I’ll see you two later!” He waves goodbye before leaving the room in a rush. “Shen-da-shixiong is an excitable person, which is fortunate since he serves very expensive tea at his dinner parties,” Mu Qingfang chuckles, “Regardless he is right about celebrating small victories, and big ones too, like healing your golden core in just six months. You’re very diligent and intelligent, xiao-Wei, I’m happy to see you succeeding.”

Tears well up in his eyes easily at the praise and he can do nothing but nod, not trusting his words when his throat ached with the need to sob. “Here, some more milk candies,” Mu Qingfang presses a small silk bag into his hand, “Now be on your way, I’m sure you have classes to attend.”

“Thanking Mu-shishu,” Xuanyu croaks, pocketing the candies and standing to leave.

He and Binghe had intended to meet up today, but a dinner at the bamboo house will cut into his time and he’ll likely end up having to go straight to his dorm after. So, he decides to go to Bai Zhan and ask around for him. 

His next class is still half a shichen away, so he can probably make it there and back in time. Probably… He’s never actually been to Bai Zhan before, but it’s only the seventh peak. It should be the one just above Qian Cao. He’s always taken the shortcut through Chuang Shi to get to Qing Jing, on the opposite side of the circle, so he’s not really sure.

So he walks up the rainbow bridge and finds himself on a peak full of disciples wearing light grey robes. Xuanyu sighs, he must have guessed wrong then, since Binghe’s robes are always much darker in colour. He steels himself to stop one of the severe-looking disciples, “Do you know how to get to Bai Zhan peak from here?” He asks.

The disciple looks at him with a weird expression, “Is this some kind of joke? Qing Jing brat, this is Bai Zhan.” Xuanyu doesn’t have the heart to even think about asking for Binghe, just nodding and hightailing it out of there, back through Qian Cao to go his usual route.

There wasn’t a single person wearing the same dark colour Binghe wears. Maybe it’s a special head disciple uniform? But Ming Fan and Xiu Liyang don’t wear different colours, just more expensive fabric. Liu-shishu is going to be at the dinner later this evening, so he resolves to ask him about it then, ignoring the way his heart jumps at the thought of approaching such a scary man.

His class seems to go by slower than usual, and when he’s finally free from it it’s around the time dinner is served at the cafeteria. Instead of joining his usual group of not-quite-friends-but-not-strangers, he heads to the bamboo house.

It’s up a path he’s only been on a couple times, and he feels his anxiety rising with each step. The door to the small building feels bigger than ever as he stands in front of it, raising his hand to knock and staring at it, stuck in place.

“Are you just going to stand there?” A voice startles him, and he whips around to find a familiar man in white robes. “Liu-shishu,” Xuanyu greets nervously. He’s taller up close, with a broad chest and muscular arms, though not as broad or muscular as Binghe. “Uhm,” He says intelligently, gaping like a fish, “I was going to knock.” He tries to remind himself that this is the same Liu Qingge that writes love letters and stands awkwardly on their peak, hoping to see Shen Qingxia.

The peak lord gives him a nearly amused expression, walking up to knock on the door for him. It opens after a minute to reveal Shen Qingqiu, in all of his stone-faced glory. “Wei-shidi, Liu-shidi,” He greets, “Come in, don’t let all of the bugs swarm the house.”

Liu Qingge rolls his eyes, rolls! his! eyes! at Shen Qingqiu! Despite this, he’s let in without protest, brushing past the other peak lord. Xuanyu stares at his back with his jaw dropped in shock at the sheer audacity, while Shen Qingqiu just huffs, “Come in, shidi,” He insists. “Uh, right, coming,” Xuanyu hurries inside, letting himself be led to the dining room.

The walls are decorated with expensive looking artwork and some art signed by either Shen Qingxia or Qingqiu respectively. The furniture is also obviously made by the hands of a master, but aren’t overly extravagant. The whole space feels like quiet wealth, not flaunting but still showing it clear as day.

“Sit next to Mu-shidi, dinner will be served soon we’re just finishing things up,” Shen Qingqiu prompts, pointing at the empty seat next to Mu Qingfang, who smiles kindly at him. 

“Is Shizun the one cooking?” He asks once Shen Qingqiu disappears into the other room. Mu Qingfang nods, “He’s only making some of the food, most of the meal is being made by,.. Ah, well, you wouldn’t have met him. You can be introduced once everything is served.”

“How have your classes been? Is Shen Qingqiu treating you well?” Shen Qingxia asks, pouring cups of tea for him and Liu Qingge. “Yes, very well! He went out of his way to teach me calligraphy and Go personally, he’s very kind,” He lays on the praise thickly, “I’m very grateful to Shizun for putting up with my horrible handwriting.”

“Ah, that reminds me of someone,” Shen Qingxia shudders from across him, hiding behind his fan. Everyone around the table seems to get the joke except for Xuanyu, who just looks around confused. “Who do you mean?” He asks.

Whatever response he was going to get is cut off by Shen Qingqiu walking back in with bowls and plates all balanced expertly on his arm. His brother quickly gets up to help him set everything down, “You could have just asked for me,” Shen Qingxia huffs, but the man stays expertly stone-faced. The door then opens again, the mentioned mysterious cook finally walking out.

Xuanyu looks over to see familiar dark curls and that unchanging, unique huadian adorning his forehead. “Gege!?” He exclaims, and the whole room goes silent while Binghe’s expression turns into one of regretful apology. “What do you mean ‘gege’? Oh my god, I knew you two were too similar!” Shen Qingqiu drops his head in his hands.

“No we’re not actually-” Xuanyu gets interrupted, “We’re more like father and son, really,” Binghe says smugly, putting plates down on the table. Shen Qingxia’s head whips over to Liu Qingge, “Did you have a secret child with him?! Why didn’t you tell me!?” 

Liu Qingge looks just as lost as Xuanyu is now, just barely sure enough to shake his head no. “We’re not related! He just insisted I call him by Ge,” He tries to explain, “Cause shixiong felt too formal for him.”

“How did you two meet? Binghe is barely even here during the day,” Shen Qingxia asks. “Well, my first day on Qing Jing I didn’t have any duties, so I went to explore a bit. I met Binghe-ge in the in the bamboo forest when I was trying to meditate,” He explains.

“You didn’t think to question why a random man in odd robes was gallivanting around on my peak?” Shen Qingqiu asks sharply, making Xuanyu wince, “Well he said he was from Bai Zhan, delivering love letters from his shizun to Shen Qingxia,” He says weakly. “Eh?” Liu Qingge looks over at Binghe with a fiery expression.

Mu Qingfang barely stifles a laugh, “I see where the misunderstandings must have begun then.” Xuanyu wilts, “I went to Bai Zhan today to tell you I probably wouldn’t be able to see you after dinner but everyone was wearing different colour robes. Are you not actually a Bai Zhan disciple?” He asks. Somehow Binghe’s expression becomes even more regretful at his sad tone.

“Manipulative brat,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs, “He used to be a disciple here on Qing Jing, but after his demon heritage was revealed his affiliation with Cang Qiong was renounced,” He explains. “Demon heritage?” Xuanyu questions, and Shen Qingqiu just scoffs again, “You really didn’t tell him anything at all!?”

“Wei-di, my full name is Luo Binghe, I’m the emperor of the demon realm,” Binghe doesn’t acknowledge Shen Qingqiu’s annoyed sounds at all, staring resolutely at Xuanyu, “I’m sorry for deceiving you. At first I did it just to embarrass your Liu-shishu, but you revealed yourself to be a truly kind person just like Shizun, and I couldn’t bear to stop visiting you. I truly see you as part of my family now.”

This is all too overwhelming for Xuanyu, and he feels tears gather in his eyes for the second time that day. Mu Qingfang puts a hand on his shoulder, warm and grounding, “Why don’t you two have a private conversation tomorrow after xiao-Wei’s processed everything? For now, we should eat before the food gets cold.”

Shen Qingqiu clicks his tongue, “I’d rather my disciple not talk to him at all,” He seethes, but Shen Qingxia makes a displeased noise. “He can talk to who he likes, Jiu-di,” He says, “And clearly he and Binghe are already close friends.”

“Whatever, that beast can steal my brother and my disciple now too,” He scoffs. Xuanyu frowns, but doesn’t know what to say.

Chapter Text

The day after the dinner at bamboo house feels a little bit tense, with Xuanyu messing up in his lessons more than usual. Painting and guqin classes are nearly painful to sit through, and when he heads to the private lesson hall with Shizun, calligraphy nearly has him tearing his hair out. 

“You clearly have something weighing on your mind,” Shen Qingqiu says, his tone thick with reluctance, “If you must talk to the beast, then go.” Xuanyu’s eyes widen, “Really?” He asks, nearly dropping the fine brush in his hand.

Shizun rolls his eyes behind his fan, “If you wait too long to leave I’ll change my mind, go,” He insists. “Thank you so much, Shizun!” Xuanyu stands up in a hurry, stopping just to quickly bow before rushing to the door. “Come to back me once you’re done, we can talk about safety and lecherous men approaching you,” He says in his scary-serious tone, fanning himself quickly.

“Ah, of course, I’ll be back soon,” He squeaks, practically running out the door. This time, the walk up to the bamboo house is much more relaxing, and he finds he has an easier time knocking on the (still imposing) door.

Luo Binghe opens the door almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting. His smile is soft and almost nervous, and he seems to be a bit hunched, trying to make himself seem smaller, “Wei-di,” He says it like a statement. “Binghe-ge,” Xuanyu responds.

“Oh just come in already you two,” Shen Qingxia complains from somewhere near the doorway, “I’ll brew some tea for you, but you need to talk for this to actually work.” Binghe instantly tears up, and Xuanyu thinks Can he do that on command? as he’s hit with a sense of deja-vu, hasn’t he pulled the same thing with Huaisang before?

“Thank you so much, Shizun!” Binghe exclaims,. “Yes, yes, it’s nothing to make a fuss about, Binghe,” Shen Qingxia consoles Binghe a bit before disappearing down the corridor towards the kitchen, and then Binghe leads Xuanyu towards the opposite direction to a sitting room.

The tears having dried the instant Shen Qingxia was out of sight, Binghe adopts a more serious expression as he and Xuanyu sit down across from each other. “I should have told you. I was,” His expression twitches while he hesitates, “It was on purpose at first, but then after I was scared of how you’d react. I didn’t want to scare you away.” 

Xuanyu nods, “I understand,” He says, “I wish you hadn’t lied to me, but I probably would’ve run screaming if you told me when we first met.” He tries to laugh it off but it comes out weak. “I’m sorry, Wei-di,” Binghe sighs. 

“It’s alright, I swear! Could you tell me some stories about being the demon emperor? It must keep you really busy,” Xuanyu asks, and Binghe seems relieved at the easy forgiveness. “Well, before that I should tell you about how I became the emperor in the first place, see it all began before I was even born…” Binghe launches into a tale about his father and mother, telling Xuanyu all about the politics of not just Cang Qiong but the whole world now.

He’d been born with demon and human blood in his veins, his mother dead and his father imprisoned. When he joined Cang Qiong, he had no idea of his heritage, and the only parent he’d known was the old washerwoman who had taken him in. 

His years on Qing Jing were difficult. Shen Qingxia had insisted to his brother that Binghe had to join the peak, and then insisted he had to teach him personally. It put Shen Qingqiu and Binghe at odds because of the peak lord’s protective tendencies when it came to his older brother. Despite this all, he persevered and life on Cang Qiong was mostly okay. Up until the immortal alliance conference.

“What’s an immortal alliance conference?” Xuanyu asks. Shen Qingxia, who’d just come back with a tea set, decides to answer, “It’s a big event that happens every four years, sects from all around have their newer disciples go and fight monsters to show off their new talents.”

“That year, demons conspired to attack the arena, and a ravine opened up as a portal to the Endless Abyss,” Binghe continues explaining, telling Xuanyu how his heavenly demon blood was unlocked by Mobei-jun, a demon that had appeared there. When Shen Qingqiu saw his mark, so that’s what that huadian is, he insisted he jump into the abyss.

Binghe skips over whatever happened in the Endless Abyss. Xuanyu decides not to push on it, he only knows basic knowledge on what it is but it sounds like an apocalyptic hellscape, unable to support any life at all. It’s a miracle Binghe got out of there alive.

After escaping the abyss, he found himself in the demon realm instead of the human realm. There Mobei-jun insisted he was the only one who could take the throne and restore balance to the realm. 

The story begins to spiral a bit from there. Binghe started to obviously leave out details, but again Xuanyu didn’t want to press the subject. He says he revealed himself as alive to Shen Qingxia during a mission where they crossed paths accidentally, and then things continued from there to a point where they got married.

“I guess since you told me your story I should tell you mine,” Xuanyu says, and Binghe shakes his head, “You’re not obligated to tell me anything,” He promises. “Still I feel like it’s only fair. You already know a bit of it, so I might as well,” He shrugs, “For me it all started when I turned fourteen years old…”

He tells Binghe everything he can stomach saying out loud. He tells him about meeting his half-brother, his horrible father, how they had started teaching him demonic cultivation and how to raise corpses at just fifteen years old. He skirts around certain topics but Binghe seems to understand the vitriol with which he says his Go teacher’s name. He also tells him about how happy he’d been sometimes, even through all that, because of Xue Yang and Nie Huaisang.

He explains how he’d found out about Jin Guangyao’s wrongdoings through Huaisang, and how he’d been kicked down the steps of Jinlintai when he tried to warn his half-sister about him. “When I went back to Mo Village, my mother died and I was forced to take up her debt and work in her place, but it was better than what my half-brother had me doing,” Xuanyu says, brushing over the abuse.

He tells Binghe about Xue Yang coming to visit him, and how Huaisang had come as well, and he just couldn’t bear to leave either behind. But then it turned into letting them both down when Huaisang asked him to do a soul sacrificing ritual to bring back Wei Wuxian.

“He what? Does he know what that ritual would do to your soul?” Binghe looks entirely enraged the second the words left Xuanyu’s mouth, and he flinches back from angry tone in his voice, “How could he ask that from you? Right after proposing?” 

“He was desperate for revenge, Jin Guangyao had murdered his brother a few years before and so it was a whole plan,” Xuanyu tried to explain “But I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough to do it, so I came here to find some other way.” Binghe’s face softens, “Oh Wei-di,” He sighs, “You are too kind for this world.”

“And you still want to go back for him?” He asks, and Xuanyu nods. “It’s why I came here, I have to at least try,” He says, “I have to get back to Shizun, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Binghe looks a bit disappointed but he nods regardless, “Of course.”

Shen Qingqiu is still waiting in the private training hall when he gets back, sipping his favourite jasmine tea. “I thought you’d forgotten,” He huffs loftily, and Xuanyu apologizes, “We started exchanging stories, This lowly disciple apologizes for making Shizun wait.”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t respond, accepting the apology silently, “Exchanging stories?” He questions instead. “Yes, he told me how he became the emperor of the demon realm, and I told him how I ended up on Cang Qiong,” Xuanyu explains. “Could I trouble you to repeat your story?” He asks, and Xuanyu nods, “If Shizun doesn’t mind listening to ugly things.”

“I don’t,” And so Xuanyu sits down and starts talking.

Its months later that Xuanyu is once again invited to a dinner party. Shen Qingxia tells him that his father and cousin had been visiting the peak and wanted to meet him, so he was invited to come over now that his classes are over. “Why do they want to meet me? How do they even know of me?” Xuanyu asks, nervous at the thought of meeting the former demon emperor.

Shen Qingxia scowls, “Binghe decided to spend all morning bragging about his new didi. Tianlang-jun has become enamoured with a perhaps slightly overinflated sense of your image.” Xuanyu feels his heart drop, just what did Binghe say about him? How is he supposed to live up to it?

“Let’s get going before Jiu-di kicks them all off the mountain,” Despite his rising dread, he follows Shen Qingxia up the path to the bamboo house. They find Liu Qingge standing outside at the front door, looking unbothered as they walk towards him. “Are they fighting again?” Shen Qingxia asks, and as if on cue, a body slams into the ground right by them.

“Gege, are you okay!?” Xuanyu jumps forward to try and examine Binghe closer, but Liu Qingge snatches him by the collar right before he could get in the way of another body flying forward to punch Binghe while he’s down. Binghe rolls out of the way at the last second, grunting with effort as he stands up again.

Binghe seems to start preparing another attack, “Stop!” Shen Qingxia interrupts, jumping in between the two. “Shizun!” Binghe exclaims in surprise, “You could’ve gotten hit!” He whines. Shen Qingxia just rolls his eyes, “You almost got xiao-Wei hit,” He reprimands. Xuanyu winces in sympathy as he smacks Binghe with his fan, even though it must not hurt him at all.

Binghe looks over to where Xaunyu is dangling from his collar like a wet kitten from Liu Qingge’s hand. “Ah, sorry, Didi,” He apologizes as Xuanyu’s finally set down.

“This must be the grandson I’ve heard so much about,” The man who’d been attacking Binghe speaks up. He looks vaguely like his son, but Tianlang-jun is handsome in his own way, just with that same mesmerizing aspect to him. “You must be Tianlang-jun, this one greets you,” Xuanyu uses the most formal speech he can muster up, but it comes out stuttered.

“No need to be so formal, you can call me Yeye,” Tianlang-jun smiles, and Xuanyu finally sees the real resemblance to Binghe. His smile is warm and charismatic, and his voice is like honey, just like his son. The only notable difference in his face is the faintest wrinkle lines, betraying his otherwise youthful appearance, and his eyes are much sharper.

“You don’t have to call him that,” Binghe sighs, looking like he’s two seconds away from throttling his father again. “Let’s go inside, we shouldn’t keep Didi waiting,” Shen Qingxia says, gaining Tianlang-jun’s attention quickly enough. “A-Jiu is here?” And Xuanyu recoils, how many men does Shizun have begging for his attention!? (Sorry Mu-shishu… And Zhangmen-shixiong..)

“Let’s get inside quickly, then,” Tianlang-jun rushes to straighten out his clothes and hair, though when it becomes clear he’s just messing himself up even more without a mirror, another man comes forward to do it for him. That must be Zhuzhi-lang, Xuanyu realizes. When Shen Qingxia described him as “if a little nervous” he found himself expecting someone shorter, maybe around his height even. Instead, he’s as tall as Binghe! Why is everyone around here giants!? 

“Come on, xiao-Wei,” Liu Qingge says in his usual monotonous tone, yet still somehow coming off as soft. Shen Qingxia hides a coo behind his fan and heads inside ahead of them. “I’m not that short,” Xuanyu grumbles, but he still enters the house alongside his Liu-shishu. 

Binghe disappears into the kitchen while Xuanyu and rest take their seats around the table. He ends up sitting next to his shizun, across from Tianlang-jun, who’s smile is starting to creep him out. “So, Shen Qingqiu, why don’t you introduce me to your newest disciple?” He leans against his hand and gains a certain lilt to his voice that has Xuanyu gagging internally. 

Shen Qingqiu takes a breath, then sips his tea slowly, and just as Tianlang-jun opens his mouth to ask again, he speaks, “This is Wei Xuanyu, he joined our peak almost ten months ago.” Tianlang-jun looks almost surprised, “Wei Xuanyu? The same from ‘The Cries of a Burnt Lotus’?” He questions.

“What is that?” Xuanyu questions, while Shen Qingqiu sets his tea cup down a bit too hard. “Ah, I think its better you don’t know,” Shen Qingxia jumps in, waving his hands placatingly, “It’s nothing either of you need to hear about.” 

Shen Qingqiu eyes his brother suspiciously, “Is this another book from your ‘Liusu Mianhua’?” He asks, and Shen Qingxia breaks out into a nervous sweat instantly. “Mhm, you must be familiar with her work if you can recognize her affinity for titles,” Tianlang-jun replies in his stead, “It was a little dry when it came to the smut, but it definitely got the waterworks going!”

“I forbid this to be discussed anywhere near Yu-er,” Shizun cuts the demon off from saying any more, and Xuanyu is too caught off guard by being called ‘Yu-er’ to protest. Tianlang-jun puts up his hands in surrender, “Of course, as Peak Lord Shen orders.”

“Who would even be..” Liu Qingge mumbles, confused. Xuanyu decides he can sneak around and ask someone about it after dinner, Huang Xiangmei or Ming Fan must know something about it. If not, he’ll head to Qian Cao and ask Zhao Chunling, who always has the latest gossip for him and Xiu Liyang. 

Plan in mind, the rest of the dinner seems to go on slowly, with idle chatter going around the table as they eat. Tianlang-jun seems to be a handful, and Zhuzhi-lang is so timid he hardly speaks during the time they’re there. Not to mention when Binghe joins the table the conversation seems to take on a scary tone.

None of it matters when a shichen later he asks Li Xinyi about The Cries of a Burnt Lotus and her whole expression drops in horror. “Well that- Who mentioned that to you?” She asks, scandalized. “Uh, someone that was visiting, no one important,” Xuanyu coughs awkwardly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “The Cries of a Burnt Lotus was uhm, or is, rather, well,” She stumbles over her words.

“It’s a pornographic novel about you,” Huang Xiangmei jumps in, having just arrived at the dorms a minute ago, “Liusu Mianhua is an anonymous author who lives somewhere on Cang Qiong, they’ve written all kinds books about the peak lords and other people around the peak.” Xuanyu’s jaw drops, “Xi-shijie, you can’t just say it like that!” Li Xinyi exclaims.

“Come on Xinxin, he was gonna find out eventually,” Huang Xiangmei shrugs, “If you’re worried, not many people have read it since no one really knows who you are. I’m actually not sure how Liusu Mianhua knew about you, maybe they’re part of Qing Jing too.”

“Oh, please don’t start with your conspiracy theories,” Li Xinyi sighs, and Huang Xiangmei makes an offended sound, “They’re not conspiracy theories if they’re true,” She defends. 

“That was one time!"

Chapter Text

In the Impure Realm, many major and minor clans gather in front of where the Xiandu sits, fanning himself and surveying the room. “I think we all know why we’ve gathered here today,” Nie Huaisang starts speaking and the hall goes quiet, “The demon attack on Gusu was a tragedy, and there will be a soul-calming ceremony held tonight. Anyone who knows how to play an instrument is urged to attend.”

“Only ten years after the fires, what luck is that?” Someone murmurs in the crowd, “And they’re such a righteous clan, its truly unfortunate,” Someone else responds. Nie Huaisang clears his throat pointedly, “Cang Qiong will not be held at fault until we figure out what happened and perform a proper investigation of their sect. That being said the borderlands have suffered great losses in recent years with Huan Hua Palace disbanding, so Cang Qiong can’t be expected to watch the entire border perfectly.”

There’s a murmur of agreement before he continues, “To investigate, a group of our strongest cultivators will go to Cang Qiong to learn how to fight demons. Those sent will likely include myself and other clan leaders.” The murmuring takes an outraged tone, then someone speaks up, “What should we do if another clan is attacked while you’re gone!?”

“We all have suitable replacements in the meantime, and the watchtowers will be looked after well by our most competent disciples. It’s only been two weeks since the attack, and we do not know if it will happen again, so we need to be as prepared as possible. We will be gone a few weeks at most,” Nie Huaisang tries to persuade the crowd, and he’s met with reluctant agreement in return. He takes a moment to breathe, then continues.

“If you have any issues to bring up, now would be the time. Otherwise, we have to make preparations for our trip.”

Nie Huaisang calls for a private meeting with the important figures joining them on their journey to the borderlands. They have the meeting over an expensive dinner, all of them sitting around a round table and chatting idly before Huaisang joins them. 

Sitting closest to Huaisang is Lan Xichen, of course followed by Lan Wangji then Wei Wuxian. Then it’s Lan Sizhui, Jin Ling, and then Jiang Cheng, who’s followed by Lan Jingyi. They all fall silent when their newly nominated Chief Cultivator takes a seat and clears his throat, “We must be prepared to find Cang Qiong completely destroyed as well, there’s never been a breach like this in over 100 years.”

“Come on, we have to think positively! Otherwise we’ll end up mopey all week while we’re travelling,” Wei Wuxian exclaims, waving his hands dismissively, “I’m sure the sect is fine anyway, they’ve been around longer than most of the clans here! I actually thought it was myth for a while because of how revered they are,” He chuckles.

“But it is real, right?” Jin Ling confirms, and Lan Xichen hums, “Very real. Correspondence with them has been difficult and closed off, especially since Jin Guangshan was Xiandu, but the Lan clan has kept up exchanging letters with their scholarly peak Qing Jing.” 

“Like it’s not hard enough to get letters from anywhere near the borderlands already, they’re known to be very secretive too,” Jiang Cheng complains, “Though I did hear they have twin jades of their own.” Wei Wuxian makes a surprised noise, “Eh? You hear that, Lan Zhan? You have competition now,” He smirks. “Mn,” Lan Wangji acknowledges his husband.

“When we get there please don’t mention that,” Huaisang sighs, “The last thing we need is to antagonize our tentative allies. As Xiandu I should’ve already been preparing a trip to Cang Qiong to establish new relations but it’s been so busy around here,” He pinches the bridge of his nose, the ever-present headache persisting especially hard just thinking about the paperwork sitting on his desk. He barely holds back from making a comment about his Da-ge being more capable of these things. Thinking about him now hurts too much.

“Oh, yeah I’ve heard you’ve been really busy trying to organize all of Jin Guangyao’s things,” Wei Wuxian comments lightly, “You’ve been trying to find a missing body? Me and Lan Zhan could probably look around for it instead.” Huaisang tenses at the mention, “I’ll find him, it’s my responsiblity. He must be buried somewhere on the Mo estate I just need to find where.”

Everyone seems to understand not to push when he has that edge to his voice, only looking on worriedly.

It’s been four years since Xuanyu joined Cang Qiong. The first year, he hadn’t been trying too hard to advance his research into resurrection rituals since he was just trying to settle in and heal his core for most of it. But even once he got serious about it, he could hardly find anything about the subject in Qing Jing’s library.

He asked around about it quietly, got some answers but nothing that really helped. So he started at the beginning to pioneer a new subject of research on his own. For a little under three years, he developed new talismans for various purposes, tested rituals on speaking to the dead, and called on Wei Wuxian’s spirit with absolutely no success. 

Whenever he left the mountain for missions, he would always ask rogue cultivators he met if they knew anything about necromancy or the likes and he almost never got a good answer. It was slow, but after so long he’s made some good progress. He’s become the resident divinator on Qing Jing, and excels at summoning spirits for communication. Especially once he reworked some Lan techniques for Inquiry.

Despite all of that progress, he has not graduated from Shen Qingqiu’s private calligraphy lessons, his handwriting just as bad as ever. At this point he’s sure his shizun thinks he’s doing it on purpose, but he’s really just so used to writing talismans quickly in Wei Wuxian’s script that its just an impossible habit to break.

He’s in one of said classes when Shen Qingxia bursts in, “Didi, there’s been an emergency peak lord meeting called, you’ve got to come quickly,” He announces, “Sorry, xiao-Wei.” Xuanyu panics to say that it’s all alright while Shen Qingqiu stands, “Continue practicing, I want to see a full scroll of perfect characters.”

As they walk off, Shen Qingxia starts rambling immediately, and Xuanyu can only hear snippets of conversation, “We received a letter from the inland clans, … attack! They’re coming,..” Then the door thuds shut and the resounding silence is loud.

Xuanyu’s heart jumps to his throat, and he can only hear ringing at the idea of his past coming up to get him. Ink drips from his brush onto the paper, and distantly he thinks he’ll get a stern lecture about wasting paper later. The inland clans? Coming here? For an attack? The attack would be lead by the clan leaders obviously, which means Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen and Jiang Wanyin, who all hate his guts, but also Nie Huaisang, who must think horribly of him now as well.

A shaky sigh leaves him as he stands up quickly and decides to run to the bamboo house where he knows Binghe must be waiting for Shen Qingxia to come back like a kicked puppy. He needs some reassurance that it will all be okay. He heard about his gege being an army of his own, and breaking into the holy mausoleum by capturing 200 Black Moon Rhinoceros-Pythons but he’s never seen it himself.

He feels like he was drowning in the deep end of a pool, and when Binghe finally answers the door of the bamboo house, a lifeline has just been thrown his way. “Wei-di, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks, grabbing Xuanyu’s shoulder to steady him while he sways in place. “Did you hear anything about the meeting that was called?” He asks instead of a proper answer.

“No, Liu-shishu just came by to inform Shizun about it, then they both left. Did you hear anything about it?” He asks, and Xuanyu nods quickly. “Shen Qingxia was talking about the inland clans and an attack, they sent a letter in advance or something,” He pants, “The- the clan leaders would obviously be the ones leading the attack they all-,” Fear chokes him up, and he has to pause to breathe.

“They all hate me, what if they’re coming because of me? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-” Binghe cuts him off, “Why don’t we wait until we get more details until we jump to conclusions,” He says, grabbing both of Xuanyu’s shoulders now and forcing him to look at him. “You’re going to be okay either way, I promise to not let you be harmed,” He says.

“I didn’t know Wei-shidi had become such an eavesdropper,” Shen Qingqiu’s icy tone startles both of them, and Xuanyu turns around to see him walking up the path with a displeased expression, “You’ve both been invited to the meeting, come with me.”

“I- well, Shen-shixiong started talking while you were still in the room, how was I not going to hear?” Xuanyu huffs, and Shen Qingqiu barely looks back to give him a stern glare. He wilts on the spot. “We’ll discuss this another time, quickly now,” Shen Qingqiu urges.

The meeting hall they go to is the same one on Qiong Ding peak that Xuanyu had been brought to four years ago. This time, there’s an extra set of chairs for him and Binghe, and they both take a seat next to each other. “Thank you for coming, xiao-Wei and Emperor Luo,” Yue Qingyuan starts, and Binghe preens at hearing the esteemed title. 

“We received a letter from the Lan clan, telling of a demon attack,” He begins explaining, “There were many disciples murdered, and their corpses were stolen as well. They’re sending four clan leaders and some of their best disciples here to learn how to fight demons, and to ask for our aid in recovering the bodies safely.”

“I never ordered such an attack,” Binghe starts his defense immediately, and the sect leader nods, “I figured as much. Relations between the human and demon realms have never been better, actually, which makes the attacks all the more confusing. I’m sure we’ll have your full cooperation in investigating this matter.” Binghe hums, “Of course. If I can get details of what clan the demons are from I’ll have them punished right away.”

“And xiao-Wei, I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here as well,” Yue Qingyuan states, “Not one person on this mountain knows the clans better than you do, so you’re our best source of intel on who’s going to be arriving here, even if you don’t know any of them personally. Our own Peak Lord Qi was from a clan that was destroyed in the Sunshot Campaign, and she only vaguely remembers the names.”

Xuanyu’s eyes widen, he didn’t know one of the peak lords here were from further inland like him. A clan destroyed in the sunshot campaign? It must have been destroyed early on by the Wen if she doesn’t remember anything. Even during the war Lan Wanji and Lan Xichen made big names for themselves, and considering they’re sending exactly four clan leaders Xuanyu can guess who is coming. All of them became household names in the following years of Wen Ruohan’s death.

“I’ll tell you all that I know about them,” Xuanyu says firmly, barely hiding the tremor in his voice. Binghe puts a hand over his to stop him from shaking. “What are the names?” He asks, already knowing he’s going to regret it.

“Lan Xichen with disciples Lan Wangji, Lan Sizhui, Lan Muchen, Lan Jingyi, and Lan Mingze,” Xuanyu let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He hadn’t even considered the ridiculous thought of Hanguang-jun getting hurt, but knowing he was okay, and that Sizhui was okay, made him forget about his anxieties for a moment. 

“The other clan leaders coming are Nie Huaisang, Jin Rulan, and Jiang Wanyin. There are notably no Jin disciples coming, but the Jiangs are bringing Wei Wuxian, Jiang..” The sect leader’s voice seems to fade away and Xuanyu’s heart nearly stops beating. All he can hear is a staticky ringing in his ears, and all he can see is Huaisang’s disappointed look, his shaking head, his fan hiding his face.

“Wei Wuxian?” He repeats back hollowly, interrupting whatever names Yue Qingyuan was reading off. He stops, and nods, “Yes, do you know him?” After a moment, Xuanyu thinks he’s supposed to answer a question, “No, no I don’t,.. He died thirteen years ago,” He explains, “Wei Wuxian was a one man army, he pioneered a whole new path of cultivation, and everything I know about talismans I know from him. He had such a way of thinking, his work was the most innovative and imaginative I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you related to him?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “By a thread. One of my half brothers married his sister, but he was adopted,” Xuanyu explains, “There’s no way someone would be using his name either, he became highly resented in clan politics because of his actions leading up to his death. Jiang Wanyin hated him most of all, it makes no sense for him to be bringing him here,” He sighs.

“Don’t fret about it xiao-Wei, we’ll figure it out when they get here. What can you tell us about the others?” Yue Qingyuan urges while Shang Qinghua quickly scribbles down everything Xuanyu had said about Wei Wuxian. 

“Well, Lan Xichen is a very kind man. He’s..” Xuanyu pauses, “He was very close to my half-brother, who was the leader of the Jin clan so I’m assuming he’s dead now,” He realizes. “Jin Rulan was next in line to take authority, but he’s only fourteen this year. His parents were murdered only a year or two after he was born, so he became very coddled by his uncles. He’s.. He was a handful, last I saw him.”

“Jiang Wanyin is one of his uncles. He has a similar reputation to Liu-shishu, I think. He’s very tough,” Xuanyu continues, “And Nie Huaisang is uhm, well he was my fiance.” He pauses, thinking on how he can describe someone with so many faces, “He’s a very complicated man. You’ll never hear him say what he’s really thinking.”

He has to take a deep breath before continuing, and Binghe squeezes his hand reassuringly. Xuanyu is suddenly reminded that he has found a place here, on Cang Qiong. He has someone he considers a brother, who thinks the same of him for once. He has friends who worry about his health and check in on him. He has carved out a place for himself here.

Long gone is the Xuanyu desperately trying to make a place for himself on that lonely mountain, next to Lan Wanji, who already had a place carved into his side. And long gone is the Xuanyu who stood as a Go piece for Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao’s games. 

“The only other name I recognize there is Lan Wangji. His title is Hanguang-jun, he’s a very well respected man, and an extremely strong cultivator. He’s Lan Xichen’s younger brother, they’re called the twin jades there too, since they look nearly identical.”

“Did you hear that, didi? We’ve got competition,” Shen Qingxia claims jokingly, and Shen Qingqiu just hums, fanning himself lazily.

Chapter Text

It was a sunny morning and Shen Qingqiu had run out of tea yesterday night. Naturally, since a handful of the head disciples have to go down to the village anyway, Ming Fan collects them and a couple other disciples to go shopping for their peaks.

Xuanyu is among the disciples who are called to help, along with Xi Linyi and Huang Xiangmei. Head Disciple Xiu and Zhao Chunling are called from Qian Cao, but most of their group is An Ding disciples. Notably, their head disciple comes along, named Hai Fenhua. He’s beautiful, well built, and very tall, Xuanyu notices him immediately in the crowd and his face goes red at the sight.

“Ah, head disciple Hai is so pretty, don’t you agree xiao-Wei?” Zhao Chunling sings in his ear, and Xiu Liyang gives her a disapproving look, but glances over to the group of An Ding disciples anyway. “Oh wow, he is very pretty,” She admits, looking genuinely shocked. “He’s only come to Qian Cao once or twice, and head disciples are always looked at by Shizun so I’ve never gotten a good look at him,” Chunling complains.

“Hey, we have a code to uphold you know! Don’t oogle at patients,” Liyang reprimands. “What? Shizun does it all the time when he treats Shen-er-shibo, you know,” She reasons, and Liyang just sighs, “No, I don’t know, I don’t need to know! That man raised me you know, I don’t need to think about him… kissing people,” She seems disgusted at even the thought.

Chunling and Xuanyu chuckle at that and continue to tease her while they start on their way down to the village. The marketplace is bustling today, especially so once they arrive and spread out to spend their allowances wherever they feel like.

Ming Fan was specifically tasked with getting Shen Qingqiu’s specialty tea from a very specific vendor down here, and Xuanyu follows him for a bit to get a break from the Qian Cao girls’ bickering. When he gets stopped by a vendor and Ming Fan keeps walking, he loses him for a bit, but then finds him again along with Li Xinyi and Haung Xiangmei.

They’re looking at hairpins and a couple stalls down, Ming Fan is looking at expensive fabrics. Xuanyu is about to pass the girls when Hai Fenhua walks up to Ming Fan with two sticks of tanghulu and gives him one, standing suspiciously close. Then, Ming Fan smiles! Actually smiles!?

“Huang-shijie! Li-shijie!” Xuanyu whisper yells, running over to the stall they were standing at and quickly pointing over to Ming Fan. “Oh my god, is Head Disciple Hai flirting with our Ming Fan?” Xiangmei gasps dramatically, “That womanizer!” She adds. “How is he a womanizer? He’s notoriously hard to catch, let alone flirt with,” Xinyi rolls her eyes at her girlfriend’s usual antics.

The whole trip back, the groups is set ablaze by new gossip about Hai Fenhua and Ming Fan. They stand alone at the front of the group, leading them all back towards Cang Qiong. “Wow, Wei-shidi’s finally starting rumors of his own, he’s really growing up!” Zhao Chunling teases while Huang Xiangmei goads her on, “I know, right? It feels like only a couple months ago he was just a ball of anxiety about to qi deviate!”

“What!? Hey, I didn’t mean start anything!” Xuanyu exclaims, “I just saw them together and pointed out that da-shixiong was smiling, I didn’t say anything about flirting! And I’m twenty-seven, I’ve been grown up for a while! My shijie are so mean.” Xiu Liyang pats his back, “Its okay, soon it’ll be your time to tease your little shidi and shimei too.”

It all comes to a stop when they find clan officials at the base of the mountain. Ming Fan, being the highest ranking in the group, calls out to them, “What’s your business with Cang Qiong? Who are you?” He asks.

Lan Xichen appears. Lan Xichen, in all his quiet elegance and kind stature. He walks up to the front of the envoy and Xuanyu’s heart nearly stops beating. They’ve arrived then, ahead of schedule, before Xuanyu could’ve prepared himself at all.

“My name is Lan Xichen, we sent a letter ahead. I’d like to speak to your sect leader,” He requests, and Ming Fan raises his brow, suspicious of their appearance since he hadn’t been told they were coming yet. Xuanyu pushes to the front of the group, whispering to Ming Fan, “They sent a letter ahead a week ago, it was why the emergency meeting was called. That’s Lan-zongzhu, they’re here because of a demon attack.”

Xuanyu tries his best to not look at Lan Xichen, or anyone else in the crowd behind him. He already knows what their faces will look like when they see him.

“Lan-zhonzhu, apologies,” Ming Fan says immediately, “Hai-shidi, can you please go up ahead and inform Zhangmen-shixiong guests have arrived?” Fenhua gets on his sword right away to fly up to Qiong Ding peak and the group is left in whispers and uncomfortable silence.

“Mo-gongzi, it’s good to see you in good health,” Lan Xichen says diplomatically, such a familiar smile on his face. It makes Xuanyu’s blood go cold again, his whole body going itchy and tense from anxiety. Ming Fan seems to notice his discomfort and his expression hardens again, “Please don’t address my shidi until you’ve settled your business with Zhangmen-shixiong,” He says firmly.

“Ah, apologies,” Lan Xichen replies, but he’s still looking at Xuanyu, who’s using all his will to stop himself from running back to Qing Jing.

“Wei-shidi, why don’t you bring Shizun his tea. Inform him of the situation too, you know he likes to know of things in advance,” Ming Fan hands him the little box of expensive bitter tea and Xuanyu takes it like it’s the greatest gift he’s ever been given. Thank the heavens for Da-shixiong looking out for his shidi!

“Yes, of course,” He puts it safely in his sleeve and pulls out his sword to go up the same path Hai Fenhua had gone. As he’s rising up he risks a glance into the crowd and sees Nie Huaisang’s face, a horrible mix of shock and grief coating his expression. He looks away quickly, unable to bear the pain that look in his eyes gives him.

A Qiong Ding disciple is already walking up to the bamboo house when Xuanyu arrives there. When they knock, the elegant sound of a guqin playing from inside stops, and Shen Qingqiu answers the door with his usual scowl. “What is it?” He asks, some of his annoyance disappearing with the presumed seriousness of the situation.

“Guests have arrived at the base of the mountain, Zhangmen-shixiong is calling all disciples to the gates,” The Qiong Ding disciples explains. “Its the clan leaders from the inland clans,” Xuanyu elaborates, “Ming Fan sent me ahead with your tea,” He pulls it out of his sleeve to show him.

Something in his expression softens as he takes the box, “Thank you. Return to Qiong Ding, I understand.” The disciple bows and leaves just as quickly as she came. “Wei-shidi, come with me,” Shen Qingqiu orders, and then disappears further inside the bamboo house. Xuanyu rushes to catch up, stopping only to carefully close the door behind him.

First he puts his tea where it usually sits in the kitchen, then he goes up to his bedroom. Xuanyu doesn’t dare step inside, and he doesn’t ask him to. He comes out a second later with a very expensive jade hair pin, carved with a dragon’s head. “You’ll wear this when seeing the clan leaders,” He states, sliding it carefully into his hairtie. He’s sure he looks ridiculous in simple robes with such an expensive item in his hair, but he’s grateful for the gesture regardless.

“Thanking Shizun,” He says, but Shen Qingqiu waves it off. “Let’s go then,” He prompts starting to walk forward and expecting Xuanyu to follow. “Ah, but only Shizun was called to the gates, I couldn’t possibly presume I have high enough status to greet guests.” He tries to excuse himself.

“You know them, don’t you? It’s proper manners. If you don’t face them now you’ll spend the duration they’re here scittering about hoping they don’t catch sight of you, it’s unbecoming of a Qing Jing disciple,” He makes it sound so elegant, almost righteous. Xuanyu barely suppresses a nervous sigh, “I’ll try my best,” He says wearily. “That’s all I expect from you.”

When they arrive at the gates of the ten thousand steps, most peak lords have already arrived. Shen Qingxia and Luo Binghe are already there too, inexplicably. Xuanyu stands next to Shen Qingqiu, fiddling with the end of his sleeve worriedly and staring over the horizon, waiting for his past to appear from up the staircase.

“Wei-di, will you point out who’s who to me?” Binghe asks suddenly, breaking the silence. “Of course. You can usually tell by the colour of their robes. The Jiangs always wear purple, the Nies have dark robes, the Lans always wear funeral robes, and the Jins always wear gold,” He explains. Almost on queue, the large escort of high ranking clan members comes into view and Yue Qingyuan walks forward to greet them.

In the crowd Xuanyu searches for Lan Wangji, and for anyone that might look like Wei Wuxian. He doesn’t just skip over Huaisang- the moment that he sees Nie colours he looks away, the mental image of Huaisangs face earlier already burned into his mind.

“My name is Yue Qingyuan, I’m Cang Qiong sect’s leader,” He greets, “You are Lan-zongzhu?” He hesitates before saying the name, ultimately deciding to trust Xuanyu’s information. “Yes, Lan Xichen,” He returns the gesture, “Half of our disciples were culled in the recent demon attack, we would be very grateful for any kind of aid.”

“Of course, let’s get you and your disciples settled in and then we can have a formal meeting,” He starts, “First, these are the lords of each peak, you’ll be learning about demons mainly from Shen Qingqiu, and his brother Shen Qingxia. You’ll learn about demonic viruses and medicines from Mu Qingfang, and combat from Liu Qingge.” He points to each peak lord respectively, and then introduces the rest in order.

The group heads over to Qing Jing first, where they’ve planned to house everyone since they have a few empty dorm buildings. From there they get separated so that the clan leaders can have a more formal meeting with Yue Qingyuan. Xuanyu is asked to stay behind with Ming Fan and a couple Qian Cao disciples to help the others orient themselves and treat any injuries they may have sustained during their travels.

Among those disciples, Lan Wangji watches Xuanyu nervously helping the Qian Cao disciples with an unreadable expression. “Wow, that guy is staring at you pretty intensely, shidi, did you say something to him?” Chunling asks him, and he shakes his head, “No, I haven’t spoken to him,” He says.

“You should go over and ask him if he needs anything, I bet he totally thinks you’re cute!” She laughs, “We’re all good here anyway, go, go!” With Xuanyu all but pushed forward by her, he takes a deep breath and walks over to where Lan Wangji is sitting with some other Lans and a couple Jiang disciples.

“Hanguang-jun, it’s good to see you in good health after all these years,” Xuanyu pauses before adding, “You seem happier.” While he was sitting mostly alone, the Lans next to them quiet down their conversation, obviously listening in even though he’s sure one of their four thousand rules forbid that. “Mn,” Lan Wangji replies simply, “Give me your wrist.”

“Oh! My core has been healed for a while now, but I only made it here safely thanks to the tea you gave me. This lowly one thanks Hanguang-jun for his kindness,” He still puts his wrist forward, and feels Lan Wangji’s qi flow through his meridians like a familiar breeze. Whatever he senses about Xuanyu’s core seems to make him happy, and some of the tension in his shoulders disappears.

“Wah, Lan Zhan, are your eyes getting bad? Did you mistake him for me?” A man who looks like he could maybe be Xuanyu’s distant cousin walks up to them, taking a seat too close to Lan Wangji to be anything less than a life-long friend. “This is Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Wangji introduces him instead of acknowledging his comment.

“Wei. I’m, uh, Wei Xuanyu here,” He figures Lan Wangji of all people would understand, or at least not put up a fight about, changing his family name. “Mn, Wei Xuanyu,” He corrects himself. “Whoa, Wei, hm?” The man leans close to him from across the table and squints, “You could really pass as my didi or something! I already have a didi though…. xiao-di, that’s what I’ll call you,” He seems pretty proud of himself for thinking of that one.

What is with Xuanyu’s luck these past years? This is the second time someone’s adopted him as a younger sibling on the spot. Twice doesn’t sound like a lot but it’s still weird to him!

“What’s your name, Qianbei?” Xuanyu asks, and the man sputters, “Qianbei!? No, no,” There’s a small commotion at the door of the lesson hall but all Xuanyu can hear is the man’s voice. He says, “Call me Wei-gege, my full name is Wei Wuxian.”

“W-.. Wei Wuxian?” Xuanyu repeats back to him, his mouth hanging open. The Wei Wuxian is sitting in front of him right now!? The same man who saved his life, who’s encoded notes were the work Xuanyu devoted years of his life to!? That same Wei Wuxain!?

Excitement and pure shock builds in his chest but he remains frozen in place, the feelings completely overpowered by fear. A hand on his shoulder snaps him out of it. “Didi, you should get to working on your chores so Ming Fan doesn’t get upset. Someone else will take care of these two,” Binghe’s voice is bordering on threatening, and he’s not quite looking at Xuanyu but glaring at the pair sitting across from him.

“Ah, you’ve got a point,” Xuanyu needs time to process this before he truly starts fangirling over meeting Wei Wuxian. And he called him didi! What did Shen Qingxia always say when something exciting happens? ‘FUCK’!

“I’m going to be assissting in a couple of your classes tomorrow, so don’t worry about not seeing me again!” Xuanyu promises when he gets up, pushing aside any thoughts of Wei Wuxian so he has a chance at focusing on his chores the rest of the day.

When he turns to leave, he finds Nie Huaisang already looking at him. It seems like he’s in a conversation but he’s not paying attention, only glancing anxiously in Xuanyu’s direction and biting his nails behind his fan. Huaisang never bit his nails. He always said ‘they’re jewels not tools’ with a cheesy smile and he would kiss the tips of Xuanyu’s fingers lovingly when he picked at things.

“Nie-zongzhu,” He speaks before he can really think about it, and Binghe stops behind him. Huaisang looks over, relief washing over his face when he sees recognition in Xuanyu’s eyes. “I… I’m sorry,” His mind blanks on anything else to say when Huaisang walks closer to him.

“Sorry for what, Wei-gongzi?” Huaisang smiles behind his fan, and he can tell since his eyes squint familiarly. Xuanyu wants, with an overwhelming need almost bursting out of his chest, to just hug his fiance right there.

“I was wondering if we could settle in to our dorms now that our first meeting is over. It’ll be dinner time soon won’t it?” He asks. “Yes in half a shichen dinner starts to be served in the cafeteria, but for you and the other clan leaders it was planned to be served to you directly in a private hall,” Xuanyu explains, “I can take you to your room and have that sorted for you.”

“Thank you, gongzi,” The way the words form around his lips makes Xuanyu’s brain stutter a moment. He was speaking with a tone that had Binghe’s hand tightening around his wrist. Then Huaisang hangs off his other arm and Binghe lets go, his expression twisting with shock and anger at the sheer audacity of this man to-

Xuanyu gives him a look and his face hardens to an unreadable expression.