[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

The good news: the energy-revealing array works!

The bad news --

It's not bad news, he insists to himself. It just... is. It's a complication, a hole in the road, a little snare tripping him up. That's all. It doesn't have to be more. It might not even be in the first place, yes? He is dead, Lan Zhan is alive, of course seeing just how very alive would stir something in him. That's all it is.

Right?

Never mind that he's fairly certain if he placed the same array on Harrow, or Tom-gongzi, or Ingress, he would not have been struck the same way. That -- it's ridiculous, this is all ridiculous, and that's why he's out here by the lake, standing on a flat rock with another array of talismans fluttering in his hand.

The key is not just luring resentful energy from the forest, despite the suppression around the inn. It is how swiftly he can do it. During his coffee-fueled spree of work last night, he drew up some new lures that ought to work faster than a traditional set. Now he scatters them in a wide circle around his feet, gestures sharply, and sends a bolt of red energy into the yellow paper slips.

Silently, in his head, he begins to count. One... two... three...

At the count of thirteen, something boils at the forest's edge, dark and oily.

Wei Wuxian smiles and lifts his flute to meet it.

Comments

[lightamidchaos]

"He is young. He will be fine. Even if he is trouble."

[acrookedpath]

"As long as he does not dispel a barrier, climb over the roof, and attempt to bribe anyone with alcohol, I suppose."

This is the closest to a true grin Wei Wuxian has shown since he woke up.

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji looks down at Wei Ying, whose head is still resting on his shoulder.

"Even then."

[acrookedpath]

His smile softens. The flutter returns to his belly, though it is -- thankfully -- much gentler than before. The cup of tea has cooled somewhat; he drains it and stretches to set it on the tray.

Then, pulling the blanket closer around himself, he leans more heavily against Lan Zhan and asks softly, "And what of Yunmeng Jiang? I know it has not been very long since you told me of them, but..."

He trails off.

[lightamidchaos]

His arm tightens slightly around Wei Ying as if to protect him, even as panic freezes his thoughts for a moment.

Jiang-zongzhu is very angry, Xichen had told him, not long ago. Lan Wangji had hated hearing every word of what his brother had to say, even though he understood why Xichen felt it necessary to tell him. I know what you think of him, Wangji, but he believes Wei Wuxian may possess the body of another, and hunts those suspected of practicing -- the ghost path.

He had been grateful to Xichen for not saying demonic cultivation, another example of his brother's kind heart, even while regretting that Xichen had not understood that Jiang Wanyin's actions in this regard only serve to make it impossible for Lan Wangji to think anything good of him at all, much less to forgive him.

"Jiang Wanyin will be helping to raise Jin Ling soon," he settles on. "When he is a little older. He will spend half of his time at Lotus Pier."

[acrookedpath]

His heartbeat kicks up a notch as Lan Zhan pulls him closer. Wei Wuxian tries to focus on the scent of sandalwood again; tries to calm the dragonflies in his stomach before they can grow out of control once more.

"That's good," he says, no louder. "Someone will have to teach him how to swim properly, and I know Lanling Jin isn't up to the task."

It will always sear him to remember the hatred in his brother's eyes as he drove the sword down. But he does not doubt Jiang Cheng will love -- does love -- his nephew fiercely, as fiercely as he hated Wei Wuxian by the end, and he will do right by him as the boy grows up.

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn. No doubt."

A beat of silence.

"Although Lianfang-zun is fond of him."

[acrookedpath]

"Huh." He frowns in thought. "Does Jin Guangyao know how to swim? I can't remember."

[lightamidchaos]

"I do not know," he says. "But I would be surprised."

He glances down at Wei Ying again.

"Do you like swimming?"

[acrookedpath]

He lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

"I grew up in Lotus Pier, Lan Zhan," he says, flashing a quick grin. "Of course I do."

[lightamidchaos]

"Just because you grew up there does not mean you actually like it," he says, a little stiffly. "So I thought to ask."

[acrookedpath]

"Mm." The smile doesn't abate. "Well, then I suppose I appreciate you asking rather than assuming. Yes, I do like it. I've thought to swim more in the lake eventually -- Harrow has mentioned garments that are specifically meant for it."

He is not drowsy -- in truth, Wei Wuxian is not sure he will be able to return to sleep at all tonight -- but the tea, the incense, and the warmth have begun to do their work. He wants to sling an arm around Lan Zhan as he has wrapped an arm around him. He wants to curl up in bed, side by side, and wait out the night together.

Not alone, he hears again, and tries not to wince as he remembers his foolish reply.

[lightamidchaos]

"You have your choice of lake or ocean," he observes. "Or both."

Wei Ying is more relaxed against him, more cheerful, and he is deeply glad of it.

[acrookedpath]

"And I will not even have to travel far to go from one to the other." He closes his eyes, contented. "What about you, Lan Zhan, do you swim?"

Too late, his mind supplies a few images of Lan Zhan doing just that, and he feels his nerves light up anew.

[lightamidchaos]

"Probably not as much as if I had grown up in Lotus Pier," he says, dryly.

"But yes, I have done so."

[acrookedpath]

If he were braver, he would suggest they should swim together sometime.

Of course, if he were braver, he would also have told Lan Zhan everything already -- and he would likely be sleeping in a different room for it, let alone a different bed. Not only a coward, but a selfish one, he thinks wryly.

He hums in quiet acknowledgement, keeping his eyes closed.

[lightamidchaos]

"Tired?" he murmurs, looking down at Wei Ying.

"Do you want to try sleeping again?"

Even while he asks it, he keeps his arm around Wei Ying, holding him close.

[acrookedpath]

A soft sigh.

"I don't know," he admits, quietly. "I don't think I want to sleep again."

[lightamidchaos]

"Then you do not have to."

Gently said.

"Do you want to lie down? To be more comfortable?"

He hesitates, but only for a moment, and then adds,

"I will stay with you. And keep talking."

[acrookedpath]

He swallows. Nods, after a moment, and whispers, "Yes."

Coward, sighs a voice in the back of his mind.

"If you run out of things to say, you could -- " (Please, let his face not betray him.) "You could sing. Instead. Whatever you'd like. Or stay quiet," he hastens to add, "I will not mind -- "

[lightamidchaos]

"Wei Ying."

Quiet, gentle, and yet very, very clear.

"I will sing for you."

[acrookedpath]

He falls silent.

If he is lucky, the room will be too dim for Lan Zhan to notice the flush to his cheeks -- because how can he not raise his head to look at him, now? How can his heart not race as he studies him, looking for... for what? Lan Zhan to notice, and recoil?

Nothing happens. Lan Zhan does not pull away.

"All right," he says, so quiet he barely hears himself, and -- reluctantly -- eases himself away from the other man to lie down.

[lightamidchaos]

"Wait only a moment," he murmurs, and gets up.

Lan Wangji clears away the small table with its tea service to stand by the door, extinguishes the incense burner, and puts out the lantern over the low table. The one at the foot of the bed he leaves lit, for now.

All the while, he orders his pulse and breathing to steady and demands of himself that he remain composed. Wei Ying has been through enough stress for one evening.

He returns to the bed, makes sure the coverlet is spread over Wei Ying, then lies down beside him.

"Come here," he says, glad of the moment to compose himself, praying his voice will not tremble and betray him. "Lay your head on my shoulder. You will be comfortable, and able to hear, both."

Which is true. Lying is forbidden.

[acrookedpath]

...It is a good thing he's already dead, because otherwise Lan Zhan might kill him with this.

Wei Wuxian stills beneath the coverlet. Lan Zhan, are you sure, he almost says, Lan Zhan, would you offer if you knew --

He wets his lips and says nothing at all. Instead, cautiously, he edges close enough to do what is asked of him: rest his head back on Lan Zhan's shoulder, and let his eyes close once more.

(He's right, he admits. It is more comfortable.)

[lightamidchaos]

There are many songs he could sing.

One of the specialties of Gusu Lan is musical cultivation, after all, and it is a particular strength of his. There are lullabies, meditative melodies, spiritual soothing songs, and more, so very much more. There are many, many, many songs he could sing.

But here, now, with Wei Ying, in this moment, as before, there is only one choice.

There are words to this song. He has known them for years. He does not use them now. To do so would be to lay his heart bare at Wei Ying's feet.

Instead, he begins to hum the familiar melody, low and clear.