acrookedpath | [pfsb]

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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.

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"Lan Zhan."

Gently, as he keeps a firm hold on his teacup so his hands don't tremble.

"Your name is on the talisman as well. It will not be an imposition."

For several seconds it does not look as though he is going to say anything at all.

(It should not be so hard to accept, being welcomed in like this, through an open door. He knows this. And yet.)

Finally --

"An instrument stand." Quietly. "One with space for your flute, as well as my guqin."

He thinks of the night Lan Zhan arrived at the inn; the duet they played after Wei Wuxian's flute was fine-tuned. Even then, his heart soared, and now --

It is right that their spiritual tools should rest side by side when Lan Zhan visits. That is all he can think. It is right.

"I will ask Madam Bar," he says, and feels his smile grow. "And I will have it by tonight."

Wei Ying's smile lights up the room, and he feels his own lips curve in answer.

Oh, look at that, it's immediately time to put all his attention back on his tea!

If he is this jittery already, he decides, it will be a terrible idea to add any coffee to the mix, no matter how small a cup. Tea will suffice. Tea will get him through the day. It was not a completely sleepless night, after all, and at least some of the hours he couldn't sleep were... peaceful.

(Even just the memory of Lan Zhan's song slows his racing mind by a pace or two.)

As much as he tries to savor his cup, though, it feels like hardly any time at all before it sits empty in his hands.

He has matched his pace to Wei Ying's, quietly content in simple companionship in this moment, and as a result his own teacup now rests empty as well.

"I should go."

He starts to collect the dishes, with every intention of bringing them back downstairs.

"Let me fetch my robes," says Wei Wuxian as he helps Lan Zhan gather the dishes. "I'll come downstairs with you, at least."

(More possibilities to make a fool of himself? Perhaps. But also more time to spend with Lan Zhan before he goes.)

"All right."

He takes the few moments while Wei Ying prepares to see him off to make sure his forehead ribbon is properly aligned, having realized that he put it on in quite a rush during the night.

He belts his outer robes in place, tightens his hair ribbon a little more, and glances over to Lan Zhan. A deep swell of fondness catches him by surprise; the sight reminds him so much of the first time he ever saw Lan Zhan drunk, Wei Wuxian teasing him that his ribbon was crooked and Lan Zhan earnestly, frantically trying to fix it.

When things were easier -- long before the Sunshot Campaign, the Burial Mounds, Nightless City -- he used to care so little about the Gusu Lan edict that no one touch another's forehead ribbon. He would have cheerily gone over and tried to straighten the ribbon for him, ready for Lan Zhan to push his hand away with a stern look, and he would only grin and laugh in reply.

But when the edict also states that only a significant other can touch the ribbon --

"It looks fine," he assures him from several feet away. He gestures to his own forehead. "Perhaps a centimeter this way."

"Mn."

For an instant, he is tempted to ask Wei Ying to straighten it for him. As many times as he has reached for it and teased Lan Wangji about it in the past, he likely does not realize the significance.

But it would not be fair.

"Thank you," he says, making the small adjustment.

"Of course."

He beams, scooping up a few of the dishes so Lan Zhan will not have to carry everything.

"Shall we?"

He makes a noncommittal sound of assent and follows Wei Ying through the door and down to the common room, then leads the way over to Bar-guniang to return everything.

"Thank you for the excellent meal, Madam Bar," says Wei Wuxian as he deposits the dishes on her surface. As they vanish, he bows, as deep and respectful as always. "Your taste is unparalleled, as always."

"And for your assistance," he adds, with a bow of his own.

A napkin pops up between them, with a yellow smiley-face on it.

He laughs in delight, and picks up the napkin to tuck into his robes.

This is where he ought to turn to Lan Zhan and wish him well for the day. It should be easy enough. Instead, clasping his hands behind his back, he tips his head to the front door and begins to walk.

A little longer. That's all.

He is a little surprised by this, as Wei Ying has not seen him off all the way to the front door since the very first night, but he is also not inclined to object.

He walks quietly beside Wei Ying until they arrive at the door. He stops there, but does not reach to open it immediately, instead glancing from it to Wei Ying.

Well.

He squares his shoulders, turning to Lan Zhan with another smile firmly in place.

"I will see you tonight," he says. "I hope your day is easy, Lan Zhan."

"Yes," he says, even as a glimmer of understanding strikes. Wei Ying is worried about him, and the time he spends in Cold Pond Cave during his seclusion.

"It should be," he says, gently. "Would it be h-- do you want to know the -- the usual routine of my days?"

Oh.

"If you wish to tell me," he says. "Yes."

He nods.

"The time I spend here you already know," he starts. "When I am there--"

"The mornings I spend in meditation. Sometimes in silence, sometimes in making copies of the rules, sometimes while playing."

Although he has not played Inquiry in recent days. He has not needed to. Still, given the breath of a presence last night, perhaps he will do so today -- both there, and here, later.

"In the afternoon, I move from still meditation to active. Sometimes I do handstands, sometimes I walk with measured pace. Sometimes I practice with Bichen."

All forms of physical exercise that have helped him to regain his strength, over the long months since the whipping.

"Later, after they have brought the evening meal and I am certain I will not be missed, I come back here."

It is... well, it is not as terrible as he feared. Lonely, of course, which is its own ache -- but he knows Zewu-jun visits him sometimes, so he has not been entirely isolated for three years.

Still. Three years. Wei Wuxian cannot fathom being alone that long with little else but his thoughts for company, especially when Lan Zhan all but admitted his thoughts and dreams were so dark after Nightless City.

He nods, silent a moment. "I am even more glad you are able to come here, then," he says at last, softly. "So you are not alone."

"I am not alone," he agrees, and can say no more at first as his throat tightens.

He is not alone. He is less alone now than he had ever believed possible, and every moment of that truth is more of a blessing than he could ever deserve.

"It is all right, Wei Ying."

He musters up a small smile. "I know," he says.

(It isn't, really, and won't be until Lan Zhan's seclusion is done. But it will be as all right as possible, given the circumstances.)

He inclines his head toward the blank spot on the wall where he knows the door would be, if he could see it. "I should not keep you from your meditations any longer, then. I'll see you tonight, Lan Zhan."

"I will see you tonight."

He pulls the door open, revealing the stone walls of the tunnel that leads down into the cave, just inside the portal.

Lan Wangji gives him a faint, barely-there flicker of a smile, and leaves the inn, allowing the door to swing shut behind him as he walks deeper into the silence of the cave.

If there were anything to be heard, no sound carries back past the layers of ice that lie thick on the deeper walls, insulating the heart of the cave.

He keeps his smile cheerful as he waves a farewell. The door clicks shut, melding back into the wall as if it were never there, and still he stands with his hand half-raised, mind buzzing pleasantly as it absorbs the memory of Lan Zhan's smile.

Well. Now he has the day to himself. Alone.

(And he will not spend it working, he tells himself sternly. At least part of it, he will spend figuring out how to tell Lan Zhan. Somehow. At some point.)

Realizing he still hasn't lowered his hand, he hastily drops it, clears his throat, and goes to see about getting another cup of tea.

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