Chapter Text
The Yiling Patriarch blows into Cloud Recesses at the end of summer, right before the sects are about to descend for the annual discussion conference.
It has been an exceptionally hot summer, and the late afternoon air is heavy and close. It will storm soon, judging by the ache in the old scars on Lan Wangji's back. They have never healed, not completely. The twisted knots are familiar companions who have kept him company across many lonely years.
He ignores them now, sitting straight in his lightest formal robes and giving his utmost attention to the conference seating arrangements. It is a tedious process that involves far more gossip than Lan rules would normally allow, but peace in the cultivation world remains somewhat delicate, with tensions and suspicions running high following the revelations of the last two Jin leaders' treachery. He has found that putting in a little extra thought to ensure a meal without feuding clans seated next to each other is worth the tedium.
And then the wind shifts, carrying the distant braying of a donkey and excited chatter of junior disciples hurrying past the window as fast as Lan dignity will allow.
Across from him, his uncle's expression sours. Lan Wangji very carefully does not react, but inside his chest, his heart has begun thumping a familiar, joyful rhythm: Wei Ying is home, Wei Ying is home.
It has been three months, and now Lan Wangji can breathe again.
The last time Wei Ying stopped by on his travels, muddy and cheerful from traipsing through Spring rains, he stayed for one month.
A month of quiet evenings playing music together, of his belongings finding their way into every corner of the jingshi. A month of falling asleep to the sound of him tinkering away at some project in the other room, of waking up to his soft snores in the pre-dawn light. A month of his clever whispered observations during Lan Wangji's more mind-numbing meetings.
It was not enough. A hundred years would not be enough. But Lan Wangji has learned to be grateful for whatever small happiness he is given.
And then, as always, Wei Ying began to grow restless. Lan Wangji watched his gaze grow distant, eyes lingering more and more on the horizon, until one evening, Lan Wangji returned to find his things all packed away, all traces of Wei Ying removed from Lan Wangji's home as though he had never been there.
Oh, you know, things to do, people to see, Wei Ying said. I'll see you again before the summer is out, Wei Ying said.
So Lan Wangji had waited. He is very good at waiting.
As expected, Wei Ying has been besieged by juniors by the time Lan Wangji manages to gracefully pry himself out from his uncle's eye. Most of them scatter at Lan Wangji's appearance, but Sizhui remains close by Wei Ying's side. Both of them are smiling, Wei Ying wide and open, Sizhui more demure. But Lan Wangji can read the simple joy in his eyes.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying lights up at the sight of him.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji responds, feeling a deep peace sweep over him. "You have returned."
For a moment, they just stare at each other. Wei Ying's robes are dusty and travel worn, and his face is tan and slightly damp with perspiration from the long climb up the mountain. But he looks fit and well fed, no obvious injuries or signs of deprivation. The road agrees with him. This is something Lan Wangji has always known.
"Senior Wei has just been in Lanling," Sizhui breaks the silence, "vanquishing water ghouls with Jin Ling."
"I was just passing through and happened to meet with him." Wei Ying scratches his nose, his smile fond. "Ah, that boy, Lan Zhan. He thinks he knows everything now that he's running things over there! He needs his old uncle to come take him down a few notches every now and then." Despite his words, Lan Wangji can hear the pride in his voice.
"Sect Leader Jin is fortunate to have your wisdom," he says, suppressing a twinge of envy. It is good that Wei Ying has begun to build a relationship with his sister's child. It is good that Jin Ling has another uncle he can trust. Wei Ying deserves to have a family again, and Lan Wangji's love is not so small that it would resent the love of others.
And yet. He is envious of Jin Ling. His freedom to go night hunting whenever he chose. Three months, a small, petty part of him whispers, and he briefly pictures himself wandering the world at Wei Ying's side, no cares other than protecting the innocent and enjoying one another's company.
"You did not wish to travel together?" he asks, instead of indulging that line of thought any further. "We are expecting the sect leaders at the end of the week."
But Wei Ying merely shakes his head. "Don't want to wear out my welcome. Can't have anyone thinking the Yiling Patriarch is spending too much time there, corrupting young minds."
"And besides, Senior Wei promised to see us before summer's end," Sizhui breaks in, voice earnest. "How could he dally any longer in Langling, when Hanguan-jun and I were anticipating his visit so eagerly?"
Wei Ying laughs. "I'm sure Hanguang-jun has had too many important things on his mind to worry about my schedule."
"Indeed, no, Senior Wei," Sizhui says, insistent. "He has often remarked to me that your presence was greatly missed."
"Is that so, little radish?" Wei Ying shoots an inscrutable look at Lan Wangji before smiling and gently chucking his fist under Sizhui's chin. "Well, I will have to make sure my visit lives up to such high expectations."
"Wei Ying's time is his own to spend," Lan Wangji says, knowing Sizhui will hear the admonishment underneath his mild tone. He meets Wei Ying's eyes. "You are welcome here for as long or as little as you choose. Nothing else is required."
Sizhui lowers his eyes. "As you say, Hanguang-jun."
Wei Ying's glances back and forth between them. "Lan Zhan is too gracious as always," he says finally. A hint of mischief crosses his face and he clutches at his stomach dramatically. "Then I must beg the two of you to feed this weary traveler before he wastes away entirely." He digs into one of Little Apple's pouches and flourishes an alarmingly red jar. "I've even been saving this new chili sauce I picked up in the south to share with you!"
Lan Wangji lets out a breath, satisfaction settling over him like a warm robe. "Such a precious gift should be appropriately savored," he says, then adds: "I suggest you wait until the banquet and offer some to Sect Leader Yao."
Wei Ying's bright laughter follows him all the way back to the jingshi.
The next few days pass in a rush of logistics and last minute problems that must be solved. Although Wei Ying is staying with him in the jingshi, Lan Wangji finds he barely has time to see him, especially once the delegations from the other sects begin to arrive, bringing with them many long hours of diplomatic conversation.
The night before the opening banquet, he returns home to the jingshi just before hai hour, weary and longing for bed, to find Wei Ying waiting with dinner.
"I asked the kitchen if you'd eaten yet," he says, at Lan Wangji's look. "Hanguan-jun should take better care of himself."
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow to let him know what he thinks of hearing that tone of judgment from a man who regularly forgets to eat, sleep, or come up for air when working on a project.
Wei Ying just shakes his head and begins preparing tea. "Don't give me that look. I'm used to living like a feral creature. And no one will notice if I fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon. The Chief Cultivator cannot be so careless." He gestures at the changing screen. "Go and get comfortable so you can eat this before it gets cold."
More nonsense. There is a charm on the food dishes that will keep them warm indefinitely. But Lan Wangji's head is aching, and washing off the day's cares and slipping into his evening robes sounds like heaven, so he retires to follow Wei Ying's advice.
"I hope they aren't working you like this all of the time," Wei Ying's voice floats over to him from behind the screen as he strips and quickly bathes.
"There is much to do," he says simply. It was true, though his uncle had assisted with clan business while Lan Xichen remained in seclusion. Now that his brother is beginning to take an interest in the world again, he is able to assist with those duties more and more. Even so, Lan Wangji has found himself often returning home later and later in the evening, head filled with the endless list of tasks before him to enact the reforms the cultivation world needs.
Wei Ying is pouring tea when Lan Wangji returns, clean and only slightly damp, hair free and pulled back loosely from his face. Wei Ying looks up with a smile, and for a moment, Lan Wangji feels frozen, wanting nothing more than to bottle this feeling of quiet contentment so he can take it out and drink it in after Wei Ying sets off again.
"Eat, eat," Wei Ying says, placing Lan Wangji's tea in front of him next to a bowl already piled high with rice and vegetables. It smells heavenly.
Lan Wangji nods and picks up his chopsticks. "Tell me of your day."
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying gasps, placing a hand over his heart in mock dismay. "Talking during a meal? For shame! What would Lan Qiren say?"
"You are not eating. And there is no rule against listening during a meal."
"So clever, Hanguang-jun. I know you long to break rules in your heart. Very well." He leans back on his hands, looking pleased, and launches into an account of his day, which began much later than Lan Wangji's, took him to the rabbit meadow, then the stables to visit with Little Apple, and finally to the library, where Sizhui found him. "Did you know he and the others came across a trove of cursed objects on their last night hunt? It's going to take them a while to catalog them all. He says they found them buried near an unmarked grave, but none of the villagers could tell them who it might have been."
Lan Wangji hums to show he is paying attention, and Wei Ying pauses his narration to place more braised eggplant in his bowl.
"Are you sure you don't want to try any of the chili oil I brought?" At Lan Wangji's look, he shrugs and continues, "Suit yourself. Anyway, it reminded me of this village I came across a couple months ago in Qinghe. The ghost of an old hermit was hanging around, more of a nuisance than anything. I dealt with it easily enough, but then I found his home in the woods. It was full of inventions! Most of them were junk, of course, but some were quite clever, like this empty bowl that let off the sweetest scent of perfume." He sighs wistfully. "I could have stayed there for days sorting through the treasures from the rubbish, but I picked up this little figurine—nothing fancy, you know—and the next thing I knew, I couldn't move!"
Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.
"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."
Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.
"It makes you wonder how many other lost treasures there are out there, though," Wei Ying continues, oblivious to the nightmare playing out behind Lan Wangji's eyes. "All these people the sects look down on, making clever little things, living their lives as they please—"
"You should have more care," Lan Wangji interrupts. He can tell at once that his voice is too harsh by the way Wei Ying flinches ever so slightly, easy smile slowly fading.
"Lan Zhan?'
He makes an effort to moderate his tone. "Investigating such things alone is unwise. If the villagers had not returned…"
Wei Ying laughs, though it sounds a little forced. "Hanguang-Jun worries like a mother hen. I'm fine, I'm fine! It was just a few unpleasant days, that's all."
"Wei Ying—"
"Lan Zhan. Don't worry so much. It would take more than a silly little curse to take me down."
Lan Wangji purses his lips. Wei Ying's disregard for his own safety is as familiar as every curve of his beloved face. But infinitely more frustrating.
After a long moment, Wei Ying flaps his hand, like he can wave the tension away. "Ah, don't give me that look. I'll be careful, I promise."
He will not be careful. Lan Wangji knows this. Still, he does not wish to spend their time together arguing over things that will not change. Even if he swaddled Wei Ying in soft blankets and locked him in the Jingshi, he would no doubt find a way to get himself into trouble. And locking Wei Ying anywhere is the one thing Lan Wangji can never—will never—do.
Instead, he forces himself to pick up his chopsticks and say, "I am looking at you. I am not giving you a look."
For some reason, this makes Wei Ying laugh again—the sound genuine this time. "Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. How does anyone get any work done around here with you saying things like that, being so funny?"
"You are the only one who finds me so," Lan Wangji tells him truthfully. "And... I do not speak so casually, with others."
Wei Ying props his head on one hand. His pose is casual but his gaze is locked on Lan Wangji. Being the focus of his undivided attention is equal parts unnerving and exhilarating, as always. Wei Ying may seem flighty and unserious, but when he puts his clever mind to a puzzle, there is very little that escapes him.
"Hmm," he says. "Good. I'm a jealous, petty man, Lan Zhan. I don't want to share the knowledge that you're secretly funny with anyone else."
Lan Wangji can feel the tips of his ears warming. Wei Ying does not mean anything when he says things like this. He is a careless flirt and always has been. But it still affects Lan Wangji, despite knowing this.
"But you do need someone to look after you when I'm not around," Wei Ying muses. "Who will tease you when I'm not here? You need to be teased more. It's not good for you to be too respected."
And that douses any warm feelings as effectively as a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.
"It is time to rest," Lan Wangji says, instead of the truth, which is I do not wish to be teased by anyone by you. I do not wish to be taken care of by anyone but you. I don't not want you to go.
Wei Ying looks momentarily startled by the abrupt dismissal, but he gamely sits up, brushing Lan Wangji's hands away from the dishes on the table. "I'll clean up. You have a long day tomorrow. Go rest."
Lan Wangji hesitates, and then goes. But he lays awake for a long time afterward, listening to the soft sounds of Wei Ying moving about, committing it to memory for the long months ahead when there will again be only silence.
The first day of the conference proceeds with a refreshing lack of drama. Most of the sect leaders are still on their best behavior following the unfortunate events of last year, and Lan Wangji thinks many are just grateful for the return of some form of stability.
Wei Ying makes himself scarce for most of the day, which isn't a surprise. His status within the cultivation world is still a little unclear, although most people have the good sense to refrain from voicing any discomfort they might feel about the Yiling Patriarch within the new Chief Cultivator's hearing. His presence at official events is virtually unheard of, and Lan Wangji fully expected him to make his excuses and slip away before the festivities began.
But that evening, Wei Ying cheerfully dons a clean set of robes and accompanies him to the banquet hall, saying, "Who am I to turn down all of that free food, Lan Zhan?" as if he pays for anything while he stays at the Cloud Recesses, and as if Lan Wangji does not send him off every time with extra money carefully tucked into his bag.
Lan Wangji does not care for banquets, in general. The other parts of the conference involve specific topics and problems to discuss, but socializing without purpose has never come easily to him. He's aware others find him stiff and intimidating in these situations, which is usually fine because he often finds them tedious and boring. But as Chief Cultivator, he can no longer retreat to a corner and observe while listening to Wei Ying whisper impertinent asides during the more dull speeches. Now he must host and interact.
It is altogether unpleasant.
Wei Ying, meanwhile, is tucked into a corner at the far end of the hall, as far from Lan Qiren's judgmental gaze as possible. Lan Wangji contents himself with catching his eye now and then, but it is not the same at all.
The evening drags on, and after the speeches and toasts are finished, Lan Wangji finds himself engaged in one tiresome conversation after another, and is only able to extricate himself when Nie Huaisang takes pity on him and interrupts a truly excruciating discussion with Sect Leader Ouyang about poetry.
"Ah, Ouyang-zongzhu," Nie Huaisang says, catching Lan Wangji's eye with a look of amusement and brandishing a delicate fan, "I've been meaning to show you the latest addition to my collection. Only a man of culture such as yourself could truly appreciate it."
Lan Wangji tries to convey his gratitude through the slightest widening of his eyes, and quietly slips away, circulating through the crowded hall while trying to look as if he has a destination in mind and should not be interrupted. This is not especially difficult, as he's been told many times—mostly by Wei Ying—that this is basically his normal expression.
Wei Ying isn't immediately obvious, which isn't a surprise. He's been on his best behavior all night, which means quietly drinking smuggled wine in a corner while avoiding the company of anyone except for his brother, Jin Ling, and the Lan clan disciples. But when Lan Wangji surveys the hall, he can see Jiang Wanyin in conversation with his nephew and Sect Leader Qin on one side of the room, Lan juniors scattered throughout, and absolutely no sign of Wei Ying.
He hesitates for a moment, weighing the inevitable discomfort of any interaction with Wei Ying's brother over the prospect of enduring the rest of the banquet without even a glimpse of Wei Ying. The latter wins, if only by a hair.
Jiang Wanyin eyes him coolly as Lan Wangji walks up to him.
"A moment, please, Jiang-zongzhu," Lan Wangji says politely. They are very polite these days, he and Jiang Wanyin. It's a new phase in their long estrangement, where each now competes to be the most courteous. Lan Wangji would rather return to the first phase, which involved never talking to the man at all, but Wei Ying has begun the slow process for reconciliation with his brother, and Lan Wangji will not let their lingering mutual animosity provide any barrier to that effort. It seems Jiang Wanyin, for whatever reason, feels the same.
Now he bares his teeth at Lan Wangji in what a charitable man might call a smile. "As the esteemed Hanguang-jun wishes. Please excuse me," he says to his companions, who nod and move away with what looks like no small amount of relief to be spared from this interaction.
There's a moment of awkward silence. "Are you enjoying the banquet," Lan Wangji asks, because it would be rude not to attempt some small talk, and he and Jiang Wanyin are no longer rude.
"It is always… most elucidating to experience the hospitality of the Lan clan," Jiang Wanyin replies, which means he's bored silly and wishes there was alcohol.
"I am sure when it is the Jiang clan's turn to host next year, we will all learn much as well." They would certainly learn new meanings of indigestion, if Wei Ying's version of Yunmeng cooking was at all accurate. While Jiang Wanyin turns that over in his mind, no doubt searching for some hidden insult, Lan Wangji continues: "I am looking for Wei Ying. Have you seen him?"
Jiang Wanyin glances around the room, brow furrowing just slightly. "I spoke with him earlier. He must be around here somewhere."
"He did not mention where he was going?"
"Not to me." Jiang Wanyin flashes that sharp smile again. "Forgive me, Lan er-gongzi. If I realized you needed help keeping track of him, I would have made sure to mark his every move."
Lan Wangji breathes very evenly. In. Out. In again. There is no point to fighting with Jiang Wanyin. He knows this. "Then I apologize for disturbing you," he says when he's sure those are the only words that will come out.
Turning away from Jiang Wanyin, he surveys the room again. Perhaps Wei Ying grew weary of dealing with the false smiles and veiled insults and simply retired for the night. Lan Wangji certainly can not blame him. He only wishes he could slip out and join him without causing a scene.
He is just contemplating whether he could make the attempt anyway when a voice materializes behind him.
"There you are, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. "I thought they'd never let you escape."
"Wei Ying." Lan Wangji turns to face him, equal parts relieved and amused that Wei Ying is acting as though he was the hard one to find.
Wei Ying has the grace to look slightly repentant. "Ah, don't be like that. It was just getting a little crowded in here, so Sizhui and I took a walk. He's a good boy, Lan Zhan. You've really raised him well."
"You also," Lan Wangji replies, a familiar call and response, and Wei Ying's lips curve into the particular soft smile he wears for Sizhui.
"Sit with me, Hanguang-jun," he says. "Lend your ear to this humble petitioner for a moment until they call you away." He gestures to his table in the corner.
It is improper for the Chief Cultivator to hide away with a rogue cultivator. Lan Wangji follows him anyway.
They pass Sect Leader Yao, droning on self-importantly as always. The man can never resist a chance to puff out his chest and claim credit—especially if someone else was the one to do most of the actual work.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying exclaims, sounding both scandalized and delighted. He leans in close, closer than would have been strictly proper from anyone else, their shoulders brushing companionably. Because it is Wei Ying and not anyone else, Lan Wangji allows himself to stand close, imperceptibly moving his arm to prolong the contact.
The cause of Wei Ying's reaction is not obvious when he casts his eyes across the room. He raises an inquiring eyebrow.
Wei Ying laughs, wagging a finger at him. "Don't play innocent with me. You may have everyone else here fooled, but I know you're just as petty as the rest of us."
Lan Wangji frowns, perplexed, but allows himself to be maneuvered through the crowd.
"Oops, not that way," Wei Ying mutters, and Lan Wangji sees several Jin cultivators up ahead casting scornful looks at Wei Ying. They catch sight of Lan Wangji and hastily find somewhere else to put their attention. "Ah, where were you earlier? That one on the right waited until Jin Ling was out of sight and then tried to pick a fight. Sizhui played peacemaker, took me for a walk instead."
Lan Wangji glares at the man and he flinches and hurries in the other direction along with his comrades. Good. He makes a note of their faces so he can mention this to the new Sect Leader Jin before they leave.
"So fierce, Lan Zhan! I should take you with me everywhere to scare off bullies with that glare of yours."
Yes, Lan Wangji thinks. You should.
Wei Ying stumbles, glancing back at him for a quick moment, then recovers. "Aha, that would be something, one of the twin Jades of Lan following me around as my bodyguard. How greedy I would be, keeping you all to myself!"
The thought is so pleasing that he's almost dizzy with it for a moment. There is nothing Lan Wangji wants more.
Wei Ying stops and whirls around so abruptly that Lan Wangji almost bumps into him. "Lan Zhan," he says urgently, then drops his voice, "are you drunk?"
Is he? His head does feel a little fuzzy, but he does not remember drinking any alcohol, and he has always remembered that part of the few previous times he imbibed, even if all details of the experience itself were not as clear. Except… he frowns. What if there were times he'd forgotten completely? How could he know what he didn't know he didn't know?
"Of course you would know," Wei Ying says. "Did a single drop of alcohol cross your lips? Then yes, you are drunk."
"I do not believe I have done so," Lan Wangji says carefully. How did Wei Ying know that was his concern? Is Wei Ying able to read his mind now? His sense of unease increases.
Wei Ying stares at him. "No," he says slowly, as if talking to a very small child. "I'm not reading your mind. I'm listening to the words coming out of your mouth."
That was ridiculous. He would know if he had been speaking out loud.
Wei Ying stares at him. "But you have been. You still are."
Lan Wangji's eyes widen in shock that quickly turns to horror as he replays the last few minutes in his mind. Wei Ying takes him by the arm and pulls him across the room.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says carefully, once he has him around a corner in a quiet hallway, "do you truly not know you have been speaking?"
Lan Wangji claps a hand to his mouth and, to his horror, feels his mouth opening to answer despite having no intention to do so. Clamping it shut again takes a great effort.
Wei Ying's curious expression shifts to one of concern as he takes in Lan Wangji's obvious distress. He cocks his head. "Gusu Lan clan's silencing charm can stop a person from speaking, but I have never heard of the opposite. Have you?"
"No," Lan Wangji says, and this time, at least, he means to say it.
"Aiya. Then someone has been too clever by half." Wei Ying crosses his arms. "I have obviously been a terrible influence if everyone is now going around making new charms and feeling bold enough to use them on the Chief Cultivator himself."
Lan Wangji frowns. Too clever could only mean... his eyes flit to Nie Huaisang, just visible around the corner, talking to Jiang Cheng and fanning himself with his ever present fan.
Wei Ying shakes his head. "It's possible, but what would the Qinghe Nie Sect have to gain? Whoever it is obviously wants you to say something inopportune in front of all the clans." He frowns, stroking his chin as he does when thinking seriously. "Or they hope to ask you something specific, and think the banquet will mask their identity."
As Chief Cultivator, Lan Wangji is certainly privy to information that some others were not. But he can not think of anything important enough to warrant this level of effort or risk.
"Then perhaps they merely wish to humiliate you. Hanguang-jun's aversion to sharing his feelings is well known." Wei Ying is generous enough not to mention exactly which feelings he'd been expressing, but it's enough to bring a blush to Lan Wangji's cheeks. "How long has it been like this?"
Another horrifying thought. Lan Wangji thinks back. "I do not know," he says finally. "But not long or the others would have given some sign. My thoughts of them were not always… diplomatic."
Wei Ying nods. "Maybe someone you had contact with recently, then." Again, Lang Wangji glances at Nie Huaisang, and Wei Ying follows his gaze. "I'll talk to him. But in the meantime, I think we need to get you out of here."
"Hanguang-jun!" a voice calls. They both look up to see Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi walking over to them bearing twin expressions of relief. "Zewu-jun is looking for you," Sizhui tells him. "It's almost time for the closing ceremony."
All of the Lan disciples have proven themselves worthy of the name over the course of recent events, but as always, the sight of Sizhui wearing his Lan clan robes with such confidence fills Lan Wangji with a special pride. He is almost a man grown now, well mannered and virtuous, and a natural leader. But he will always be a child to Lan Wangji, clambering onto Lan Wangji's lap as though he belonged there, filling the hole in Lan Wangji's broken heart in the darkest nights of his life. Lan Wangji loves him very much.
Lan Wangji pauses. Lan Jingyi's mouth has dropped open, eyes darting rapidly back and forth between Lan Wangji and Wei Ying as if he isn't sure where to look.
Sizhui flushes. "Hanguang-jun," he stutters. "I—that is…"
Oh no.
Wei Ying laughs a little too loudly, then slings his arms around both boys shoulders, turning them back toward the banquet. "Hanguang-jun is feeling a bit," he pauses, clearly searching for the right word and finally landing on, "indisposed."
"Is he dying?" Lan Jingyi blurts, looking horrified.
Sizhui's head snaps around.
"No!" Wei Ying says quickly. Then, in a much lower voice, "No, he's just not quite feeling himself. So you must tell Zewu-jun to make his excuses to the clans and handle the closing ceremony. Quietly. Do you understand?"
Lan Wangji keeps his expression level with great effort. He is deeply embarrassed.
"I am deeply embarrassed," he hears himself saying, and both boys blanch.
"Okay!" Wei Ying says, giving them a hasty shove in the direction of the banquet. "I will take care of Hanguang-jun. And you two go tell Zewu-jun. Go now, go."
Getting across Cloud Recesses to the jingshi undetected proves more difficult than he would have hoped. Although the banquet is still on-going, enough participants have begun to disperse that they end up dodging and hiding across the courtyard.
Despite the less than ideal circumstances, the feeling of being on an adventure with Wei Ying again is somewhat thrilling. These recent months of endless meetings and paperwork, meaningful yet tedious work that he once would have endured without complaint, have felt very empty without Wei Ying's cheerful laugh and ready smile to keep him company.
Wei Ying slaps a hand across Lan Wangji's mouth, pulling them both back into the shadows behind a bush. His hand smells of Emperor's Smile, a scent Lan Wangji has grown very familiar with over their travels. It would no doubt scandalize his uncle entirely to know he now associates it with the feeling of home.
...at least some of which he must have now opened his mouth to say out loud, he realizes as his tongue touches Wei Ying's palm. Both of them jump, Wei Ying shooting him such a look of betrayed scandal that Lan Wangji can not help but mumble an apology against his hand.
Two cultivators walking by swivel their heads in their direction, and Lan Wangji begins to realize the error of this plan. The Chief Cultivator leaving the banquet early would have been much talked about, but ultimately not nearly the scandal that finding him canoodling after dark in the bushes with the Yiling Patriarch would be.
Wei Ying, with his hand still clamped like a vise around Lan Wangji's mouth, moves them further backwards into the shadows, turning his body so that his back is to the cultivators, blocking Lan Wangji from their view. Then, he lets out a long, high-pitched sigh, practically a moan. The sound does something strange to Lan Wangji's insides.
One of the cultivators slaps the other's arm, grinning. His companion laughs, and casting one look back at the bushes, they head on their way.
Wei Ying drops his hand. "That was close."
"You taste good," Lan Wangji tells him. He wishes the Earth would swallow him whole.
Wei Ying visibly startles, but quickly recovers, shaking his head. "No, no. That would be a terrible waste." He glances around. "Now come on before someone else comes by."
When Lan Wangji doesn't move immediately, Wei Ying sighs and grabs his hand, tugging him out of the bushes and up the path toward the jingshi. Lan Wangji's hand feels very sweaty—will Wei Ying feel it and be disgusted? His heart is beating so loudly. How can Wei Ying not hear it?
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying hisses. "What I hear is your voice talking." He pulls them faster and Lan Wangji slaps a hand over his own mouth and tries to focus on keeping up.