Chapter Text
Jiang Cheng wove among the wisps of clouds, grumbling to himself as he drew closer and closer to Gusu. It was always a pain in the ass to fly through them. The dampness soaked into his robes and sat heavy in his hair. Best to avoid them altogether. But he couldn't avoid this... No, Jin Ling had pestered him to visit Cloud Recesses to check up on Lan Xichen. The Sect Leader had been in seclusion for ages, and apparently wasn't even talking to anyone. Why Jin Ling thought that Jiang Cheng was a good option for this was beyond him.
Distracted by his thoughts, he flew through a cloud and let out a frustrated groan, the misty terrain of Cloud Recesses slowly coming into view.
"Fucking...aptly named place..." he muttered as he descended.
The juniors who were stationed at the gates to Cloud Recesses jumped to attention at the sight of a soaked cultivator descending before them. One of them, Lan Jingyi as it happened, opened his mouth to demand to know who this person was and if he was crazy, arriving soaked to the bone like this. Luckily, his fellow, Lan Sizhui, seemed to know what he was about to say and gave him a quick nudge before saluting Jiang Cheng.
"Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Sizhui greeted brightly. "We weren't expecting you." Lan Jingyi paled a bit before hastily copying his friend in bowing to the other Sect Leader.
Jiang Cheng blinked at the two young disciples. "Wei Wuxian didn't—?" He sighed, bringing a hand to his brow. "Wei Wuxian was supposed to send word that I was visiting."
Of course, the idiot had forgotten. And now he looked like the stupid one. He should have just trusted his own instincts and sent Lan Xichen a letter, and waited for a response. But no, his brother and Jin Ling had been insistent that he visit Lan Xichen as soon as possible. Jiang Cheng bit back a scowl. Was this all some kind of stupid prank?
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Wei Wuxian practically materialized over Lan Jingyi's shoulder, startling the poor boy badly when he spoke. If Lan Sizhui was equally caught off guard, he didn't show it.
"I'll have you know I was just coming to tell these two exactly that, Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian declared proudly, folding his arms and grinning at his brother. "I wasn't expecting you to come in such a hurry, is all." He paused, giving his brother another once over before peering past him and down the narrow mountain path leading to the gates of Cloud Recesses.
"Jiang Cheng, was it raining somewhere between here and Lotus Pier?" Wei Wuxian wondered in genuine confusion.
Jiang Cheng glared at his brother, arms crossed over his chest. "Sure," he muttered, only because he didn't want to admit the truth. Wei Wuxian would tease him about it endlessly. He glanced toward the Lan juniors and arched a brow.
"Am I permitted entry now?" he asked, letting his expression shift back to neutral. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could return home and continue his work.
"Come in, come in!" Wei Wuxian cried before either of the juniors could answer. All it took was a wink for them to both grin back at him, bowing to both of their elders. He would have ruffled A-Yuan's hair if he wasn't "on duty," so as it was Wei Wuxian just nodded and turned to lead the way.
"Sorry," he told Jiang Cheng as they made their way through the compound, Wei Wuxian's habitual black robes forever clashing with the usual Lan white even when there wasn’t another clan member in sight. It was as if black clashed with the very atmosphere of the mountain. "There weren't any classes today so Lan Zhan actually let me sleep in. I only just read your letter. Who knew you'd get here so fast?" He scratched his nose in thought. "You're not cold, are you? We can find you some dry robes if you want."
"I'm fine. White doesn't suit me," Jiang Cheng dismissed as he fell into step beside Wei Wuxian. Even after all these years, after all of the distance, it still felt...natural. He didn't want to dwell on it, though. Best to keep his mind on the task ahead, and not get tangled in the good and bad memories.
"So what about visiting Lan Xichen is so damned urgent?" he asked as they strolled through the sect grounds. Wei Wuxian had been oddly skimpy on the details, and Jin Ling had been quietly worried. It was unnatural for both of them. And most of all, how did they expect him to help?
Wei Wuxian laughed and was about to tease Jiang Cheng about how odd he'd looked in white when they were students, but the sudden change in subject derailed him. Dropping his arms, he gripped Jiang Cheng's elbow instead and picked up the pace towards his new home. Lan Zhan would be out at this time of day, classes or no.
"Not out here," Wei Wuxian said, keeping his voice low and serious. It wasn't until they stepped into the Jingshi and he closed the door firmly behind them that Wei Wuxian finally sighed and turned to his brother. "What I'm about to say doesn't leave this room, understand?" he asked, his voice as hard as it had ever been when he still wore the title of the Yiling Patriarch.
Jiang Cheng's eyes went wide, and he had to fight the urge to take a step back. His brother, the absolute goofball, the idiot, the prankster, hadn't looked this serious in a long time. His guard was immediately up.
"Fuck. Wei Wuxian... He isn't...dying or something, is he?" Now he really felt out of his depth. Just what was waiting for him behind the walls of Lan Xichen's quarters?
Wei Wuxian sighed and leaned back against the wall in an almost sullen slump. "Physically...no. Not exactly," he said at last. Lan Zhan wasn't going to like the fact he wasn't present for this part of the conversation, but it was too important to wait. "Spiritually, though..." He chewed on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head.
"His energy is unstable. Has been for far too long," Wei Wuxian admitted at last. "At first we thought it was just the betrayal and the grief...but it's only gotten worse, not better. Lan Zhan plays Clarity for him every night, now. It seemed to help at first, but it's not enough. If this keeps up, Lan Xichen is at serious risk of qi deviation."
Even the thought was almost too much to bear. Especially because Wei Wuxian had a fair idea of what the man must be feeling. To find out you'd been made a pawn and that all those you'd counted as friends were either gone or had turned against you... The Yiling Patriarch hadn't thrown himself off a cliff because he was a coward. He'd done it because his soul was ripping itself apart but without a golden core, qi deviation wasn't even an option.
Jiang Cheng listened to every word with a twisting unease growing in his chest. Lan Xichen... Qi deviation... Those two things didn't go together. Not for someone as calm and kind as Lan Xichen. He began to pace, his thoughts thrown into a whirl. He knew that the Lan Sect Leader had been troubled by past events, but he hadn't known that it was this bad. Still. If even his own sect, his own family couldn't help him...
"How can I?" he murmured. He cast a look at Wei Wuxian. "How do you expect me to help him?" he asked, his voice coming out softer than he'd intended.
Wei Wuxian blew out a breath at the question, pushing off the wall to scratch at the back of his head. "It's a bit of a long-shot, but when Lan Zhan asked my opinion, you were the first person to jump to mind. You're the only cultivator from our generation that Lan Xichen doesn't have close ties with. There's no pre-existing relationship there. In other words, you're a blank slate."
Wei Wuxian stepped forward to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You're exactly what Lan Xichen needs right now, Jiang Cheng: someone he respects who won't bring up bitter memories."
Jiang Cheng heaved a sigh. He didn't appreciate being referred to as a "blank slate." But he understood what Wei Wuxian meant. And he couldn't deny the flicker of some unfamiliar emotion at the thought of being needed by someone. He hadn't been needed since... Memories of Jin Ling's infant cries rang through his head.
"Fine," he said at last, shrugging Wei Wuxian's hand from his shoulder. "But I make no promises." Fuck, what if he made it worse? He couldn't let that hold him back, though. If he was Lan Xichen's only hope, then the situation was beyond dire. "Where is he?" he asked, waiting for Wei Wuxian to lead the way.
Wei Wuxian blinked. He'd expected that to require...well...much more convincing. Perhaps even groveling. He opened his mouth to suggest they wait for Lan Zhan to return, but thought better of it. He'd always been one to ask forgiveness rather than permission, and anyway he hadn't been exaggerating his husband's concern for Lan Xichen. With Clarity no longer having any measurable effect, Lan Zhan was beside himself, even if not many knew what that looked like, exactly.
They'd all been through enough. No one else was allowed to die. Not while Wei Wuxian had any say in the matter.
"Thank you, Jiang Cheng," Wei Wuxian said quietly, pulling his brother into a quick hug. He made sure to pull away before he was pushed away. "Come on," he said, opening the door and leading the way towards the buildings at the very back of Cloud Recesses. The Hanshi wasn't very far from the Jingshi, so it was only a matter of moments before Wei Wuxian stepped up to knock lightly at the door.
"Zewu-Jun?" he called, false cheer lilting in his voice. "It's Wei Wuxian. I have a visitor for you." He paused, straining to hear any sign of movement from inside. "Lan Xichen," he called as he knocked again, his voice growing more stern. "I don't wish to impose, but if you don’t answer I'll have no choice. To check on your welfare, if nothing else." At last, the rustle of fabric and the sounds of bare feet against the wood floors made Wei Wuxian sigh in relief. He stepped back as the door slid open, just barely wide enough to be considered polite.
Lan Xichen had lost weight, Wei Wuxian noted. Again. His once handsome cheekbones jutted out now, the impression ghoulish even without the deep bruising shadows beneath his eyes and the tangled mess that was his hair, which was down and unadorned. Lan Xichen opened his mouth, no doubt about to turn Wei Wuxian away, when his eyes stopped just over Wei Wuxian's shoulder and the door opened fully at last.
"Sect Leader Jiang?" Lan Xichen asked, his voice too quiet and wavering from disuse.
Wei Wuxian simply plastered a smile on his face. "I said you had a visitor, didn't I?"
Jiang Cheng stared, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping at the sight of the once serene, noble Sect Leader.
"S-sect Leader Lan," he greeted, bowing as he tried to scrape together his composure.
Wei Wuxian hadn't been kidding. Lan Xichen looked like a ghost, like the faintest breeze would sweep him away. He didn't know what else to say, so they all stood there awkwardly for a moment. It was enough to resist the urge to barge in there and demand to know what Lan Xichen was doing to himself. He already knew, though. He knew very well what grief could do when you allowed it to eat away at you. He shivered as he remembered those dark days after he'd lost his home, his parents, his everything.
Wei Wuxian grinned through the awkward silence. Anyone else would have walked away now, he knew. They would have made some excuse to let the Lan Sect Leader clean himself up a bit before being expected to entertain a guest. As it was, though, that type of thing had already gone on long enough, at least in Wei Wuxian's opinion. Someone had to finally put a stop to it and force Lan Xichen back into the world of the living, whether he wanted it or not.
"Lan Zhan will be expecting me for lunch," Wei Wuxian suddenly announced, "so I'm afraid I can't stay. But Jiang Cheng is not a picky guest. Tea, water, or nothing at all will be just fine with him!" With that, Wei Wuxian patted his brother's shoulder and leaned in to whisper, "Remember, Attempt the impossible, Jiang Cheng," and then he was gone.
Lan Xichen blinked in the morning light for a few moments before sighing and stepped aside. "Won't you come in, Sect Leader Jiang?" he asked, slipping back into his polite mask with far too much effort.
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng was standing there alone with Lan Xichen. He was thrown for a moment when the other man invited him in. He'd half expected that he'd need to fight his way past the door.
"Thanks," he replied, stepping into the room. It was large and elegant...and pretty dark. The windows were all closed against the sunlight. Jiang Cheng frowned, blinking in the sudden dimness. He'd stood in silence for too long, and felt that he needed to say something.
"Yeah, um. Sorry for dropping in without notice. Just...thought you might want some company," he said, inwardly wincing at how transparent he felt.
Lan Xichen closed the door and crossed the room despite the darkness, lighting a candle on a low table rather than open the shutters. "No need to apologize," he said in a tone that he hoped matched his old smoothness. "I've become accustomed to your brother's...unexpected ideas." He glanced back, offering Jiang Cheng a tight smile that wasn't entirely forced this time. Really, it was a little endearing, even if all he desperately wanted was to be left alone.
Jiang Cheng ran a hand through his long bangs, staring down at the floor. "Pretty obvious, huh? I couldn't tell him no. I just... Well, it's been a while since we've even been in the same room, you and I," he stated with a shrug. "I know I'm not the best company, but..." He glanced up, at a loss.
Yeah, so he'd been worried by what Wei Wuxian had told him. And he could understand the fuss, now. Lan Xichen looked like a wreck. And that sparked something in Jiang Cheng. Something deep and complicated. A protectiveness, wrapped in the layers of dismay and frustration and awkwardness.
Lan Xichen watched the other Sect Leader for a moment. Even he wasn't entirely sure why, and when the answer came to the forefront of his mind he quickly glanced away in shame. Pity. He'd been checking for pity, and even he wasn't sure what he might have done if he'd seen it in Jiang Cheng's eyes. Luckily, he hadn't, and neither of them would need to find out.
"I'll...make some tea. Please have a seat," Lan Xichen murmured, more for something to do than anything else. While he might not be taking proper care of himself, at least the Hanshi had remained relatively clean and orderly. Even in his darkest hours, the worst he’d done was allow dust to collect. Disorder would have been entirely too much to bear.
Jiang Cheng sat, looking around the room as Lan Xichen busied himself with tea. He had no idea what to talk about, and the silence was grating at his nerves. Then, his gaze landed on a canvas stand in the corner of the room. There was a sheet thrown over the canvas, and Jiang Cheng could only wonder how long it had been there.
"Huh. I didn't know that you painted," he commented. "Shouldn't surprise me, though. The Lan sect has always appreciated the arts."
Lan Xichen had just finished adding the mix of tea leaves to the pot. It was a spicy blend he'd gotten in Caiyi town. Well, technically Wangji had bought it since Wei Wuxian couldn't stand their sect's herbal teas, but Wangji would always be Wangji and he'd bought more than his new husband could ever drink. So, naturally, some of it had ended up with Lan Xichen and he couldn't help but think Jiang Cheng would share his brother's tastes.
Lan Xichen looked up at the comment, his eyes inevitably falling on the covered canvas. He paused, frowning at the hidden piece. "I keep meaning to throw it out, actually," Lan Xichen admitted after a moment. "I should have known better than to attempt such a thing as a distraction. All I've managed to do is ruin it." He ran a hand through his hair distractedly, wincing when his finger snagged on a tangle.
Jiang Cheng's gaze flicked from the canvas over to Lan Xichen. "I'm sure it's fine. Can't be worse than anything I've done," he stated, putting his pride on the line. He was terrible with a paintbrush, and there was no denying it. Cocking his head, he decided to be bold.
"Let me see it. I'll tell you if it's trash." And he would. Out of all of the things that he was, brutally honest was high on the list. That, and he was sure that everyone had been treating Lan Xichen as if he was made of glass. And that was clearly getting them nowhere. Maybe the man needed to be treated like normal. Maybe he needed to be pushed a little.
Lan Xichen's gaze snapped from the painting to Jiang Cheng. He groped for words, some reason to deny the request, but there wasn't a single one that wouldn't have been rude. Worse, he knew Jiang Cheng really was like his brother in some respects. The Jiang Sect Leader wouldn't bow to conformity or politeness. He would dig his heels in about this. Lan Xichen sighed, deciding he didn't have the energy for an argument, and got to his feet to pull the cover from the canvas. He winced at the half-finished piece he revealed.
There was a small cottage made of light, feathery strokes of the brush that blurred at the edges slightly and gave the building an almost dream-like quality. The same technique had been used for the two small figures dressed in white that were standing before the closed gate. Then there were the flowers. A handful on the left-hand side had been done by the same hand, a riot of colors crowding the small space and adding a touch of whimsy in contrast to the blue gentians that filled the front garden in truth. As the flowers continued, though, it was evident they had been painted by someone attempting a poor imitation of the original artist's style. The lines were too crisp, the stroke of the brush too firm and with far too much paint.
Reality was intruding into the dream and the sight was jarring enough that Lan Xichen's hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"My mother started this painting," he muttered lowly before Jiang Cheng could say anything. "I never should have touched it. I was a fool to think I could match her style well enough to finish it for her." He bowed his head, neck flushed in shame.
Jiang Cheng stepped closer to the painting, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at the work. He could tell that two different people had painted it. But not in a bad way. The two styles went together in a manner that was interesting. At least to his untrained eye.
"I like it," he said simply, shrugging. "If you're going to throw it away, I'll take it off your hands."
The words slipped out before he could even think about them. How odd they sounded. What was he going to do with a random painting of some random building? But he couldn't stand the thought of Lan Xichen throwing it out. Maybe someday, the other Sect Leader would change his mind and want the painting. Jiang Cheng would keep it safe until then.
Lan Xichen's head whipped around so fast his vision blurred for a moment. "No!" The cry escaped him before he could stop it and suddenly he could feel it—could feel everything bubbling over. The painting was Mother's. The very last one her hand had touched. And she'd chosen to paint her own cottage—her own jail—with her sons waiting outside to visit and he'd...he'd…
"No," Lan Xichen said again, a plea instead of a shout as he crumbled to his knees. His hands covered his face and some part of his mind froze at the dampness against his fingers. Was it finally happening? Had he pushed himself too far, just like Nie Mingjue? But when he blinked at his palms he saw no red. Only tears, then. Somehow the confirmation only made the tears come faster.
"Don't...don't take it from me," he begged, beyond caring how childish he sounded. Even if he'd ruined it, he couldn't bear to lose his mother's last painting. Between the Wen's fire and his uncle's misguided actions, it was the only one left.
Jiang Cheng froze at the sudden outburst. Then, Lan Xichen crumbled before him, and all he could do for a moment was stare. Years ago, the sight of so many tears would have staggered him. But he'd raised a child. One who was still prone to a tear or two when things didn't go his way. He was used to this kind of thing.
Slowly, he came to Lan Xichen's side, reaching out and resting a hand on his quivering shoulder. He rubbed a few soothing circles.
"I won't, then. As long as you don't throw it away," he murmured, his deep voice like a soft rumble of thunder. He knelt down next to the sobbing man and began to speak quietly, giving Lan Xichen something distracting to listen to. Hopefully it would guide him through this moment of torment.
"I had a similar problem rebuilding Lotus Pier. I wanted it the same as it was. Exactly as I remembered it, down to the last fence post. But it wasn't possible. There were differences. So many. What I built today will never be what was built in the past. But the two overlap, and together they still make home," he said, hoping that Lan Xichen understood. Just because his own efforts were different than the original, didn't make them any less worthy.
Lan Xichen should have been mortified. As a child, he'd been made to copy the Lan Sect Rules and meditate for hours whenever he had an outburst like this. Worse still had been watching his younger brother do the same until he was reduced to a block of ice who barely spoke for fear of letting the wrong words come out of his mouth. Now, though, no one was trying to stop him. Not even Jiang Cheng. Rather than be embarrassed at witnessing a grown man reduced to tears, the other Sect Leader was crouched at his side, offering comfort.
Lan Xichen's treacherous mind jumped to his Sworn Brothers, but only for a moment. Nie Mingjue would have been far too uncomfortable with the situation. A-Yao… A-Yao would have comforted him, but he knew now that every word would have been sweet poison dripped into his ear. Shuddering, Lan Xichen forced himself to take a deep breath and chase the ghosts from his mind, for now at least. The tears were finally slowing and his head and throat ached from the sudden onslaught of misery.
"A-apologies, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen managed to croak, using the cover that had been on the canvas like a handkerchief. "I'm sure your brother told you that I'm...I'm not myself."
Jiang Cheng let out a noise of acknowledgement, leaning back to give Lan Xichen some space to breathe. He almost reached up to brush a stray tear from the sharp edge of Lan Xichen's cheek, but kept his hands resting against his lap. What was he thinking!? He couldn't just do something like that! Still, he didn't like the feeling of distance between them. They were equals, and he wanted to remind Lan Xichen of that.
"Just 'Jiang Cheng' is fine," he said. "It's only us in here. There's no need to be formal." Hopefully that would help Lan Xichen relax a little.
Lan Xichen blinked the last of the wetness from his lashes. Jiang Cheng… He'd never quite known what to make of the man, truth be told. Jiang Cheng had been an admirable student when he and his siblings had come to Cloud Recesses all those years ago, even if Wei Wuxian's antics had largely "stolen the show" of that particular year of lectures. He'd also lost the most out of anyone in their generation during the Sunshot Campaign. Yes, Cloud Recesses had also burned and Lan Xichen's father had also been killed, but in his case his father had been a living ghost for as long as he could remember and he’d had A-Yao to shelter him afterwards.
Meanwhile, the Jiang siblings were hunted mercilessly. Their entire clan had been all but exterminated.
Thinking of it now, at the end of it all, Lan Xichen couldn't help but feel his behavior was even more shameful than he'd thought. He'd been tricked in the worst of ways, that was true. But Jiang Cheng...both of his siblings had died (for a time at least, in Wei Wuxian's case) while Lan Xichen still had Wangji. Jiang Cheng had his nephew, but Jin Ling was, ultimately, not of his sect and now had been forced to take up his own role as Sect Leader of the Jin clan.
In contrast, adopted or not, Lan Xichen's nephew was a Lan by name if not by birth and would visit him daily if he would only stop turning the poor boy away. Even Wei Wuxian, miraculously returned to them, had left Lotus Pier behind to be with Wangji.
Lan Xichen had so much that Jiang Cheng didn't, and might never have again, and yet here he was, wallowing in his grief while the other tried to comfort him. Suddenly, Lan Xichen let out a humorless laugh that sounded ugly even to his own ears.
"I've become the one thing I never wanted," he said when Jiang Cheng frowned at him. He tilted his head towards the other man, sure he must look half-crazed. "I've become my good-for-nothing father!"
Jiang Cheng stared steadily at Lan Xichen. The mood swing was startling, but he knew all about mood swings. He remained steady, a rock for Lan Xichen to cling to as he–hopefully–bled some of the poison from himself.
"I don't know much about your father, but you're far from good-for-nothing. You've been through hell. We all have. Don't think that we haven't all gone through our own dark times," he murmured. A shiver ran through him as he recalled his own days after losing his golden core. How he'd been entirely broken, ready to die.
"It's never pretty, recovering from this shit. Everyone always looks at the end product, the glorious rise from the ashes. They never mention the miles of hell it takes to get there." Now he couldn't resist any longer. He reached out and brushed an unruly lock of hair from Lan Xichen's face, and his expression broke into a rare gentle smile. "But you will get there. If anyone can, it's you."
Lan Xichen straightened automatically at the frank, measured tone of voice. To his shock, he could feel his mind settling for the first time in what felt like ages. This...this was the effect Clarity was supposed to have on him, and yet it had never once worked. Not now, anyway. He leaned into Jiang Cheng's touch without thinking, knowing that this feeling of peace was fleeting and desperate for it to last as long as possible.
"Jiang Cheng," he said at least, barely louder than a whisper, "I'm aware of how terribly selfish what I'm about to say is, but I have to admit I don't care. Can you...can you stay?" I want to bring someone back to Gusu. Bring them there and hide them. At last he understood exactly how his brother must have felt, saying something like that.
Jiang Cheng drew in a breath. All that Lan Xichen had done up to this point had pretty much left him unfazed. Until he was asked to stay. People didn't ask Jiang Cheng to stay. And he knew that they were always relieved when he left.
He hesitated for a moment, thinking about the various things that he needed to do back at Lotus Pier. And then he looked at Lan Xichen. He looked into amber eyes darkened by sorrow and grief, but lit with the tiniest flicker of hope. He couldn't bear to destroy it.
"How long do you want me here?" he asked bluntly. Surely not for too long. He wasn't the best company, he knew.
Lan Xichen felt his neck grow hot at the question. Forever jumped to the front of his mind, but he roughly shoved it away. In the first place, it was ridiculous. And beyond that, it simply wasn't possible. Jiang Cheng didn't depend on many advisors and had no clan elders to speak of. How had he never considered how lonely that must be?
"A...a week?" Lan Xichen suggested at last. Surely that wasn't too long, was it?
Jiang Cheng nearly choked. On air. What a fucking way to go. "A week!?" he echoed, bringing a hand to his brow.
He had expected Lan Xichen to ask for a few hours. A day at most. But a week? He had, under no circumstances, planned on a visit for that long. He didn't want to deny Lan Xichen something that seemed to be helping him, but Jiang Cheng had his own responsibilities.
"I would have to make arrangements, first," he stated, trying to regain his composure. "I wasn't prepared for this to be a longer visit. But I can spare today, if that's enough?" He looked at Lan Xichen, and something unfolded in his chest like the delicate petals of a lotus flower. The way that this man was looking back at him. Fuck. Lan Xichen was so trusting... So fucking friendly. How could anyone dare hurt him?
Lan Xichen dropped his gaze for a moment, but nodded quickly. "Of course," he agreed, smiling at Jiang Cheng. It was a small smile, barely lifting the corners of his lips, but it was at least genuine. "Wangji has been shouldering so many of my own responsibilities, and between that and my own inability to properly judge the passage of time...forgive me for being unreasonable. Yes. A day would be more than enough of your time, if you can spare it." He bowed to Jiang Cheng, more out of instinct than anything else.
Jiang Cheng reached out, guiding Lan Xichen up from his bow. There was no need for it. He was simply helping someone who he looked up to.
"I can get a week. It'll just take me some time to get things together," he explained. "Until then... I can write to you or something." Maybe that would help Lan Xichen feel less lonely. Give him something to look forward to. He tilted his head, thinking, until a grin crept across his lips.
"In exchange, I want you to do something for me." Before Lan Xichen could even ask, he nodded toward the closed windows. "Let in some sunlight. Just a little." Yeah, this could work. He could use his visits and letters as ways to coax Lan Xichen back into a healthier lifestyle.
Lan Xichen felt something slot into place at the idea of receiving letters from Jiang Cheng. Like setting a broken bone, but without any pain to it. He couldn't even explain why, exactly. It was simply...something to look forward to. At the request to let light into the room he gave a self-conscious chuckle and glanced over his shoulder. Slowly, he pushed himself up and carefully covered the painting once more to protect it from the sun before opening the south facing shutter.
"It's silly, isn't it?" he mused without turning back around, a gentle breeze brushing his cheeks from the opened window. "It's not as though I wished to live in a cave. I simply...couldn't help but hate that the sun would continue to shine on a world that felt so bleak."
Jiang Cheng's heart squeezed at that statement. "You deserve the sunlight," he murmured. It made the shadows around Lan Xichen's eyes and cheeks seem even sharper, but even then he still looked...beautiful. Jiang Cheng swallowed hard as the word drifted into his mind.
Oh no. No, no, no. He couldn't encourage that kind of thought. Lan Xichen was...Lan Xichen. Out of his league. And right now, in no condition to be pursued. Not that Jiang Cheng would even try. No, he'd been turned down enough in his life. Clearing his throat, he pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused back on the light streaming softly through the window.
"There. It's nice, isn't it? It brings in a little warmth."
Lan Xichen nodded, finally turning back around to take in the room. His eyes fell on the forgotten teapot and he sighed.
"It seems I forgot about the tea," he lamented. The leaves would have steeped for far too long by now. "It was a blend I thought you might like, too. If you'll allow me a moment, I can make a fresh pot," he offered, eager to enjoy as much time with Jiang Cheng as possible now that he knew he only had this one day.
Jiang Cheng looked at the forgotten tea and shrugged. "We had more important stuff to deal with," he stated, not wanting Lan Xichen to fuss too much. "But yeah, I'd like to try it." He was curious at what Lan Xichen had chosen for him. He really had never liked the bitter blend that was popular in Cloud Recesses.
"So...do you...collect tea? Or was this one just laying around somewhere?" he asked, trying to make conversation.
Lan Xichen took advantage of the newly opened window to dump the old pot of tea and begin readying a new one. His hands paused at the question. He wasn't entirely sure of the details, but he did feel certain that things were still...awkward between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Therefore, suggesting that he suspected they shared a taste in teas likely wasn't the best idea.
"It's something I was gifted from Caiyi Town," Lan Xichen said at last, allowing the leaves to steep. "It's got a hint of spice to it, so I suspected someone from Yunmeng like yourself would enjoy it."
Jiang Cheng gave a soft chuckle. "We'll see if you're right," he replied with a hint of challenge. He tilted his head, remembering long ago when he and Wei Wuxian and the Twin Jades had fought the water ghosts in Caiyi Town.
"Have you ever had the ice cream from Caiyi Town? It's pretty good," he asked. A wild thought struck him. If Lan Xichen hadn't, then maybe he could eventually coax him back out into public with ice cream.
Lan Xichen smiled softly and shook his head as he poured them each a cup of tea. "I've always meant to, especially in summer," he admitted. "But...well, when your own little brother isn't interested in sweets it takes some of the fun out of it," he said with a shrug.
For once the words weren't bitter on his tongue, merely a statement of fact. He sipped the tea and found it pleasant, with an odd warming effect all the way down his throat when he swallowed. His eyes flicked back up to Jiang Cheng, eager to gauge the other Sect Leader's reaction.
Jiang Cheng nodded to himself, already planning. He needed to take small steps with this. It was a miracle already that Lan Xichen had allowed him in and was talking to him. Maybe...maybe by the end of summer. Yeah, that would be enough time. It had to be. Lan Xichen couldn't stay cooped up in here for that long. By the end of summer, he was taking Lan Xichen out for ice cream. Not as a date! No. Just as a reward. A reward for recovery.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice that Lan Xichen was waiting for him to try the tea. His cheeks flushed, and he snatched up the teacup, taking a quick gulp. And scalding his fucking tongue. He should have sipped it. Fuck. He'd be feeling it all day, now. But the flavor was nice. Spicy, but not overwhelming. It filled him with a welcome warmth that he hoped Lan Xichen felt as well.
"It's good," he said, flashing a rare smile. "Thank you."
Lan Xichen offered a small, genuine smile in return even as he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cared so much about whether or not a guest liked the tea he offered them—if he ever had. But this afternoon, this tranquility, it felt so fragile. He'd do anything in his power to make sure it remained a positive experience for the both of them.
"I take it from our earlier discussion that you're not an artist yourself, but surely you must have some hobbies, Jiang Cheng," he said, head tilted in open curiosity.
Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to reply, but... Fuck. What were his hobbies? Paperwork wasn't a hobby. Nor was training disciples. He didn't swim as often as he used to.
"Um." He looked around the room as if he could find an answer. When his gaze fell on Lan Xichen's faint, gentle smile, on that adorable head tilt, his mind blanked even further.
"I...go for walks," he said slowly. Then face palmed. That was such a stupid answer! Stalking around Lotus Pier was not a hobby! Fuck! He was boring! It was official. Sect Leader Jiang was pathetically boring!
Lan Xichen glanced down at his tea, hoping he hadn't accidentally made the other Sect Leader uncomfortable. "I suppose it was a rather silly question," he admitted after a moment of silence. "I know how precious your time is. I only wondered if maybe you...fished...or something along those lines."
Now he wanted to bury his head in his hands at how truly pathetic that had sounded. He knew Jiang Cheng didn't paint or play a musical instrument. He's spent half his life rebuilding his sect and raising his nephew. What time did that leave for leisure?
Jiang Cheng forgot his annoyance at himself and let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, I've tried to fish," he said, shaking his head. "I don't have the patience for it. I never did." Sitting still in a boat all day? No. With a sigh, he leaned back and stared out the window.
"Honestly, I don't even know what I'd want to do if I had the time for it. Pathetic, huh?" he muttered, showing a moment of weakness. Around anyone else, he would have never. But Lan Xichen felt different. He felt safe. And maybe it was because the man looked so damned vulnerable as he was right now that it made Jiang Cheng want to drop his guard, even if just a little.
Lan Xichen swirled the dregs of his tea in the bottom of his cup idly. "I wouldn't call it pathetic," he said with a shake of his head. "You're drawn to others, Jiang Cheng. I know because I'm the same." He smiled softly at that, the expression turning slightly self-deprecating. "Even as adults, we don't know what to do with ourselves when all our playmates have left us behind." He downed the rest of his tea like it was wine and poured himself another cup.
Jiang Cheng felt an ache in his chest, as if Lan Xichen's words were an arrow and had pierced him. Because, yeah. As much as he pushed others away, bristling and snapping like a dog, he was drawn to others. He hated being alone. And again and again, that's how he ended up. Everyone he held dear always left him. Soon, Jin Ling would be all grown up and properly leading his sect, and would leave him too. And at the center of it all, hidden down deep, was the truth that he didn't want to admit. That he kept himself endlessly busy so that he didn't have free time. So that he didn't have time for his mind to drift to all of those who had left him behind. So that he didn't have time for the loneliness to creep in. He stared down into his teacup, silent and frowning.
Lan Xichen nearly winced in the awkward silence that followed. There had been a time in his life when he'd been tactful enough not to say such blunt truths out loud. Apparently, however, even that amount of common sense had deserted him now. His eyes searched the room for a distraction, pausing once more on the painting that had started all of this.
"Since I've agreed to your deal, allow me to present one of my own," Lan Xichen said, straightening his spine and trying to recapture something of his old, ever certain mannerisms. "I'll try to work on that painting before next we meet if you'll find a book to read in your spare time. It can be historical or fictional, educational or of the entirely inappropriate variety the students still pass around between themselves during their stays for lectures." Lan Xichen couldn't help but smile as Jiang Cheng's face went red. "You only have to read a single page, at the very least, and tell me your impression about your choice the next time we meet."
Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, immediately ready to protest. The problem here was that he didn't have the time for stuff like this! But the words never came. Instead, he scowled down at his lap. No, it was that he didn't give himself the time, and he knew it. And it was entirely fair of Lan Xichen to make this request, after Jiang Cheng had done the same with him. Hell, he had even been planning to wheedle Lan Xichen into painting again, but he had intended to wait on that one. Now, the opportunity was dangling in front of him, and he'd be a fool not to take it.
"Fine. I'm sure that I can find something." He had a few untouched books on his shelf back home. He couldn't even remember what they were, but he could make it through at least a page of one of them.
Lan Xichen fought not to outright laugh at the petulant look on Jiang Cheng's face. It was the same look Lan Jingyi often got when he was told to practice his handstands or his sword. The look of someone who had been given an assignment that they knew was good for them but still didn't enjoy the thought of completing.
"Thank you," he said with a graceful dip of his head. "We'll hold each other accountable then." Lan Xichen glanced at the covered painting again. It would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous, and yet there was a spark of excitement in his chest that he hadn't felt in ages.
"I never asked what brought you here today," Lan Xichen suddenly realized, refocusing on Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian had said Jiang Cheng had come to visit him—Lan Xichen and not Wei Wuxian—but they hadn't spoken of the original purpose. "I hope all is well. Gusu is your ally, though I'm sure it hasn't always felt that way. I...I'd like to make up for that if I can." His neck burned a bit with a sudden wash of shame. Because of his Sworn Brothers he'd been so focused on the Nie and Jin clans for so long (and then on his own clan) that Yunmeng Jiang had been left all on its own at the worst possible time. He bit back the urge to apologize, sensing that Jiang Cheng wouldn't particularly wish to hear it. He was a man who valued actions over words, now more than ever.
Jiang Cheng stared at Lan Xichen, both brows raised. "We've both had a hell of a lot to deal with over the years," he commented. "Neither of our sects were spared from the Wens." Cloud Recesses had burned, too, after all. "What if we just...remain allies moving forward?" He didn't want to keep track of debts between their sects. Especially not with this strange, newfound acquaintanceship with Lan Xichen. "And... I came here because..." He sighed, running a hand through his bangs and tugging at the ends as if that could help the words come. "Look, I was worried, okay? Wei Wuxian told me about...how you were doing. And I didn't think that I could fucking help, but I had to try, you know?"
He didn't want to say any of it, to say to Lan Xichen's face that he was coping badly and making others worry, but Jiang Cheng had always been brutally honest. And he didn't know how to stop.
Lan Xichen opened his mouth, ready to reassure Jiang Cheng that of course they would remain allies. Jiang Cheng's own martial brother was now married to the Second Jade of Gusu, after all. He was stunned into silence by the admission that Jiang Cheng was indeed here for him, however. For a long moment all he could do was stare at the man across from him. Some small, almost animalistic part of him wanted to be angry. What business was it of Jiang Cheng's how he was faring? Or Wei Wuxian's, for that matter!? But years upon years of teachings to calm his emotional state won out, even now.
Dropping his gaze to the table, Lan Xichen felt his posture slip back into the uncharacteristic slouch he'd adopted as of late. And while he didn't look up to check, he swore a cloud covered the sun, leaving the room chilly and dark once more.
"I know I'm worrying Wangji," he said at last, a vice seeming to close around his heart as he spoke. "4000 rules, and by a twist of fate they've always weighed heaviest on our family. Which is exactly why Uncle keeps adding more. Mother died when Wangji was so young. He'd been too small to understand why we were only permitted to see her one day out of the month, let alone why she was suddenly gone. I'm not sure he even remembers Father. I don't believe Wangji ever heard his voice, at any rate, and he lost all interest in attempting to visit him after Mother died." Lan Xichen's vision was starting to blur again, but he found he didn't care. Jiang Cheng had already seen him cry once today, after all.
Lan Xichen looked up, a hollow smile on his face as he felt the first tear slip free to burn a trail down his cheek. "And now it seems his brother is on the precipice of the very same fate: wasting away, alone in the dark."
Jiang Cheng sat in stunned silence. Until he was standing. At some point, he was standing.
"No," he growled. He didn't know a damned thing about Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji's parents, save for what Lan Xichen had told him. And he didn't fucking care. "I won't let you. I won't fucking let you!" His previous gentleness burned away in the heat of the moment, and his emotions flooded in. "You're not alone! Even if everyone else leaves you behind, I'll still fucking be here, and I'll drag you out into the fucking light if I have to!"
His shoulders were heaving as he dragged in breath after breath. He didn't know why the idea of Lan Xichen giving up drove him to such fury, but it did. Maybe it hit too close to home in how he himself had given up after losing his golden core.
Lan Xichen blinked up at Jiang Cheng, stunned. There was no killing intent coming off of him, and therefore no instinct to move. Sitting rooted to the spot was safe, then, and also the only thing he felt capable of in that moment. He'd expected some anger, knowing Jiang Cheng's personality, but he'd also expected questions. When he'd told Wei Wuxian the story of his parents, he hadn't been surprised that the man had wanted every detail. That's who Wei Wuxian was, whether the world wanted to acknowledge it or not. He was a man who wanted all the facts in his hands before he dared to draw a conclusion.
Jiang Cheng didn't seem to share that trait. Again, Lan Xichen had the vague feeling that he should be angry at Jiang Cheng's sudden possessiveness when they were hardly more than acquaintances, but the anger never came. Instead, another silent tear dripped down his cheek.
"Mark your words, Jiang Cheng," he said at last, barely recognizing his own voice for how flat it sounded. "I cannot bear another false promise. If you are only speaking out of passion, you had best take those words back now. Otherwise, be prepared to face the consequences."
Jiang Cheng stared Lan Xichen down, waiting for the other Sect Leader to falter. But he didn't. Lan Xichen stared up at him with a faint light burning in those amber eyes. It was a wonder to see, and the fact that Lan Xichen didn't cower or back down settled Jiang Cheng's anger somewhat. But only just. With his hands clenched into fists at his sides, he lifted his chin.
"You have my word, Sect Leader Lan. Believe me, I'm fucking stubborn," he added, a corner of his mouth curling into a grin, showing a flash of teeth. It was a big promise to stand by Lan Xichen no matter what, but deep in his heart, it felt right.
Lan Xichen was at a loss as to how to respond. His strongest instinct was to throw himself at Jiang Cheng. To hug him and thank him and, gods help him, maybe even kiss him! That last thought stunned him almost as much as Jiang Cheng's speech had. Did he really want to...?
Oh. Oh. That was possibly the worst realization to have at this exact moment. But there was no denying the heat creeping up his neck and the way his heart had picked up speed. For so long he'd struggled to understand his father's and Wangji's choices. Not with the disdain his uncle felt, but simply because they didn't make sense. Why love someone who had done such terrible things? But now he understood.. Because it wasn't a choice. And because even in his grief, fate had bestowed him with one last chance to get it right.
It seemed Wangji wasn't the only Jade of Gusu who would be granted such a miracle.
Lan Xichen suddenly realized he'd been silent for far too long and Jiang Cheng's left eye was beginning to twitch as the other man stared down at him. He dashed the tears from his cheeks as he climbed to his feet, turning to face Jiang Cheng and forcing himself to bow instead of throwing himself at the man. "Then I leave myself in your capable hands, Sect Leader Jiang," he vowed.
Jiang Cheng tried to calm himself, standing in silence as he watched a tumult of emotions flicker through Lan Xichen's eyes. And then... Lan Xichen finally spoke. And Jiang Cheng felt as if one weight had been lifted, while another weight of responsibility had been placed on his shoulders.
Lan Xichen was in his hands... Fuck.
This was really happening. He was really going to try to coax Lan Xichen out of seclusion, to repair his trust in others. Jiang Cheng swallowed hard, and nodded, despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach.
"Good. I... I won't let you down," he promised, begging that it would be so. "For now, though... I think I should go." The words felt heavy and he didn't want to say them, but he had to make the journey back home before nightfall, and he had already made Lan Xichen cry enough already. The man probably needed a break from him. Jiang Cheng understood. Sometimes he felt like he needed a break from himself, too.
Lan Xichen almost argued. It was only mid-afternoon and he...if he was being honest, he didn't want Jiang Cheng to go. He didn't want to be alone again. Still, he'd been selfish enough for one day and he knew it.
"Thank you for coming to visit me, Jiang Cheng," he said, forcing himself to smile. "I'll look forward to your letters. And the next time we meet." He fought the urge to fidget. Had that been too much? Suddenly unsure of himself he bowed to Jiang Cheng again. "Safe travels home," he murmured, meaning it more than he'd meant anything he'd said in months. He already knew he'd be at his desk, digging for paper nearly the moment the other Sect Leader left. He wanted to laugh at the idea of his first letter most likely arriving in Lotus Pier before the man it was addressed to did, but he didn't want this...whatever this was to fade. Not with distance nor with time. He'd do anything to avoid that.
Jiang Cheng bit his lip, the remnants of his frustration fizzling out like static. Lan Xichen looked like a sad puppy, and fuck, Jiang Cheng hated thinking about puppies. But it was true. Did Lan Xichen seriously enjoy his company that much? After he'd made him cry? After he'd yelled at him and basically threatened to drag him outside? Lan Xichen was maybe a little weird, he thought with amusement. Summoning up what he hoped was an encouraging smile, he mirrored the bow.
"Thank you for the tea. And...for letting me in," he said, the last part coming out softer, laced with meaning. "I'll be back as soon as I can. And I'll write. And I'll read a stupid book, okay? So just...just take care of yourself." Please. Take care of yourself.
All too soon, with their goodbyes said and promises made, Jiang Cheng found himself stepping onto his sword. His heart felt...strange. Both empty and full at the same time. As he spiraled up into the sky, he cast one last glance downward, and saw the small form of Lan Xichen waving once before closing the door.