**A Return to Gusu**
After returning home from the Guanyin temple, Wei Wuxian carried an unsettling weight in his chest—a heaviness that seemed to seep into his bones, clinging to him with the persistent dampness of Gusu's mist-laden air. Each breath felt thick, as if the sorrow of the past days had become a physical presence, pressing down on his heart. He glanced sideways at Lan Wangji, whose presence was a quiet balm to his troubled spirit. Wangji's steady, unwavering gaze held a flicker of hope, a silent promise that things would get better, yet Wei Wuxian could sense the unspoken worry etched in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. Will time truly heal these wounds? He wondered, the familiar pang of uncertainty gnawing at him. The comfort of being beside Wangji was undeniable, but the shadow of recent events loomed large, casting doubt on the possibility of peace.
For Lan Wangji, bringing Wei Wuxian back to Gusu had been a cherished dream, a vision he had clung to through years of hardship and longing. Yet, as reality unfolded before them, it felt starkly different from the idyllic reunion he had imagined. The streets of Gusu, once alive with laughter and the warmth of camaraderie, now echoed with an uncomfortable silence. Even the soft chirping of birds seemed subdued, as if the entire city was holding its breath. Each step they took along the familiar stone paths felt weighted with the burden of unspoken grief and the ghosts of what had been lost. Everyone lost something yesterday, Wei Wuxian thought, feeling the collective sorrow wrap around him like a shroud, suffocating and cold. The air itself seemed to mourn, heavy with the scent of rain and regret.
As they approached the imposing walls of the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian's gaze was drawn to the Wall of Rules. It had grown taller, more forbidding, now adorned with an additional fifty prohibitions—each one meticulously inscribed in stark, unyielding calligraphy. The new rules loomed over him like a thundercloud, their words sharp and accusatory: Do not interact with Wei Wuxian. Do not stay with him at the same place. Don't talk with him. Do not let him teach you a crooked path... Each rule felt like a dagger, a fresh wound layered atop old scars. Though his name had been cleared, acceptance remained a distant dream, always just out of reach. The injustice of it all—the way suspicion and fear clung to him despite everything—was suffocating.
He sighed deeply, the sound echoing in the stillness, feeling once again the sting of exclusion that had become all too familiar. Why does it always have to be this way? The question echoed in his mind, bitter and unresolved. Yet, as he looked at Wangji—who stood at his side, steadfast and unyielding—Wei Wuxian felt a flicker of warmth amidst the chill. Wangji's efforts to make him comfortable, to carve out a space for them in a world that seemed determined to keep them apart, did not go unnoticed. In that moment, Wei Wuxian realized that their bond was a lifeline, stronger than any rule or judgment. We only need each other, he thought resolutely, drawing strength from Wangji's presence. The world around them may have changed, grown colder and more divided, but their connection remained a beacon—a steadfast light in the darkness. Together, they would navigate this new reality, one uncertain step at a time.
As the days slipped by, Lan Wangji became acutely aware of the subtle shifts in Wei Wuxian's demeanor. The vibrant spark that once danced in Wei Wuxian's eyes had dimmed; his words grew fewer, his laughter—a sound that used to fill the air with joy—now surfaced only rarely, and when it did, it felt brittle, forced. Wangji could see through the mask of cheerfulness that Wei Wuxian wore, especially within the confines of Gusu, where the weight of unspoken rules pressed down on him like an invisible hand. Only when they ventured beyond the city's boundaries did a genuine smile occasionally break through, fleeting and precious, illuminating Wei Wuxian's face with a glimpse of the man he used to be.
Determined to uncover the reasons behind this change, Wangji poured his heart into making Wei Wuxian happy. He orchestrated quiet moments of comfort, shared silent walks beneath the moonlit sky, and offered gentle reassurances. Yet, six months passed in a blur of routine and longing, with only Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi remaining by Wei Wuxian's side in Jingshi. The other junior disciples offered polite greetings, but their words felt hollow, their smiles tinged with unease. The camaraderie that once defined their circle had faded, replaced by a cautious distance that left Wei Wuxian feeling more isolated than ever.
One night, as they lay nestled together in the sanctuary of Jingshi, the sweet scent of sandalwood incense curled through the air, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth and safety. The world outside faded away, leaving only the gentle rhythm of their breathing and the soft glow of lantern light. In the depths of slumber, a dream unfolded—a surreal, unsettling encounter with Jin Guangyao.
"Master Wei, how do you know this place? Please don't tell me you and Hanguang-Jun are here on vacation," Jin Guangyao's voice echoed, mocking and insidious.
"Whatever the reason is, it's none of your business; you're not in a position to ask!" Wangji thought fiercely, but in the dreamscape, his voice was lost, swallowed by shadows.
Wei Wuxian's voice, however, rang clear, cutting through the tension. "Lian Fang Zun, you hid quite a significant land deed in the secret chamber of the fragrant palace, right beside my manuscripts. Don't you remember?"
"Oh, that would be my fault. I should've put them separately," Jin Guangyao replied with a nonchalance that bordered on cruelty, his eyes devoid of any hint of regret.
Zewu Zun stepped forward, his posture heavy with shame. "Ashamed. I was fooled by lies and lost my spiritual powers. Even with Shuoyue and Liebing, they will not be of much help." In this strange dream world, Wangji remained unseen and unheard, a silent observer trapped behind an invisible barrier. Helplessness gnawed at him as he watched Wei Wuxian navigate these treacherous waters alone, the burden of reality pressing down with renewed force.
Wangji's thoughts churned with frustration and regret. If only you had believed us, brother, we wouldn't be in this mess. He watched as Wei Wuxian maintained his composure, his cheerfulness a brittle mask that threatened to crack at any moment.
"No need to feel ashamed. After all, lying is one of Lian Fang Zun's greatest skills," Wei Wuxian replied, his words sharp and sincere, slicing through the dream's oppressive atmosphere.
Jin Guangyao's probing question lingered in the air: "Hanguang-Jun is not with you?" Wangji clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Who does he think he is to question us?
"How are you so sure that Hanguang-Jun would come?" Wei Wuxian countered, his voice steady but laced with defiance.
"Of course he'll come. Since you were suspicious of this Guanyin temple, Hanguang-Jun naturally will know that something strange is afoot," Jin Guangyao smirked, his words laced with malicious amusement.
"Young Master Wei, if Wangji is around, why is he not with you?" Jin Guangyao continued, mimicking the sect leader's tone with calculated cruelty.
"We split up," Wei Wuxian replied curtly, his tone clipped. Wangji's mind drifted back to their last heated night together—moments of confusion and miscommunication that now seemed so trivial in the face of everything they had endured.
"I heard you injured yourself when you left the Burial Mound," Jin Guangyao said, his voice dripping with feigned concern.
How would he know? Wangji wondered, realization dawning that Jin Guangyao must have been informed by someone else. The sting of betrayal was sharp and immediate, another reminder of how isolated they had become in a world rife with secrets and deceit.
"Why would he act separately with you at such a time?" Lan Xichen's voice was gentle but edged with concern, his brows slightly furrowed as he searched Wei Wuxian's face for answers. The question hung in the air, heavy with implication, and Wei Wuxian felt a ripple of unease pass through him.
"Where did you hear that from?" Wei Wuxian shot back, suspicion sharpening his tone. His eyes narrowed, scanning the faces around him, searching for the source of this intrusion into their private affairs.
"I told him that," Clan Leader Jin replied with a smug tilt of his lips, his words dripping with self-satisfaction. The sound of Jin Guangyao's voice sent a wave of disgust rolling through Wangji's stomach, tightening like a knot. He fought to keep his expression neutral, but his fists clenched imperceptibly at his sides.
Wei Wuxian, ever quick on his feet, composed himself. "It's like this. I couldn't sleep tonight and took a stroll outside the inn. I only came here by accident. Hanguang-Jun's in another room. He doesn't know I went out," he explained, his voice steady, though his eyes flickered with a trace of wariness. He could feel the scrutiny, the way every word was being weighed and measured.
"You two sleep in two rooms?" Jin Guangyao commented, his tone sly, as if probing for a weakness. Wangji's eyes widened in surprise and indignation. Why are they asking such questions? he wondered, a flush of embarrassment rising to his cheeks.
"Who told you we would definitely get one room?" Wei Wuxian retorted, his lips curving in a wry, defiant smile. But as he spoke, his expression shifted, realization dawning in his gaze. It's my brother who told him about our lives, Wangji thought, a chill running down his spine. The sense of betrayal was subtle but sharp, a reminder of how exposed he truly was.
"You two really do talk about anything and everything," Wei Wuxian remarked, his voice hollow as he stared blankly into space, the weight of the revelation settling over him. The closeness between Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao was suddenly palpable, and for a moment, Wei Wuxian felt like an outsider in his own story.
"Young Master Wei, did something happen between you two?" Xichen pressed, his tone gentle but insistent. Wangji felt a pang of betrayal twist in his chest; he had trusted his brother with his secrets, believing in the sanctity of their bond. Yet here they were, his private life laid bare before others.
"Sect Leader Lan, what could've happened between us? For now, let's focus on dealing with this," Wei Wuxian said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and Wangji felt a flicker of gratitude and agreement. Wei Wuxian was right—there were more pressing matters at hand.
"I was too impatient. My apologies," Xichen conceded, lowering his gaze in a rare show of humility. Wangji's heart softened a fraction; at least his brother recognized his mistake, even if the damage had already been done.
"It seems there's indeed a problem. Doesn't seem like a small one," Lian Fangjun added, his tone grave, eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Right now, the entire cultivation world is about to crusade against you, Lian Fangjun, and you're still sitting back? Still got spare time to worry about others?" Wei Wuxian shot back, his words sharp and unyielding. Wangji's heart surged with agreement. Exactly! What's happening between us is none of their concern, he thought fiercely, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior.
"I just had to comment. Hanguang-Jun has spent so many years in yearning, and even today he hasn't gotten his happy ending yet. Not only is Sect Leader Lan impatient; even an outsider can't bear watching it," Lian Fangjun continued, his words cutting deeper than he perhaps intended.
Shut up! Wangji thought, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He longed to speak, to defend himself and Wei Wuxian, but in this dreamlike confrontation, he remained invisible, his presence overlooked by those around him.
"What yearning? What happy ending? What do you mean?" Wei Wuxian demanded, his voice rising with confusion and irritation. "It wasn't your place to worry about it; you should shut your mouth, Clan Leader Jin!" His eyes flashed with indignation, his patience finally worn thin.
"Do you really not understand or are you just pretending? No matter what, if Hanguang-Jun heard this, it'd be hurtful," Jin Guangyao said coolly, his gaze flickering with a knowing, almost cruel amusement.
You're no one to tell me how I should feel or how my Weiying feels! Wangji seethed inwardly, his anger growing with each passing moment.
"I really don't understand! Just say it!" Wei Wuxian exclaimed, frustration etched across his features, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Sect Leader Lan! You said Lan Zhan's feelings? What are they? Is it...?" Wei Wuxian stammered, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and dread, the truth hovering just out of reach.
Before he could finish, Lan Xichen stepped forward, his hand gentle but firm as he pushed Wei Wuxian away, as if to shield him from the raw vulnerability of the moment. Wangji watched helplessly, his heart aching with longing and exposure, as the truth hung between them like a heavy fog—unspoken, yet impossible to ignore.
"Have you forgotten how he received those whip scars? Have you not seen the brand mark on his chest?" Xichen pressed, his voice trembling with a mixture of accusation and anguish. The words hung in the air, sharp as a blade, cutting through the fragile calm that had settled over the room. His eyes, usually so gentle, now blazed with a fierce protectiveness—each syllable a demand for acknowledgment, for truth.
"Brother, stop…" Wangji pleaded silently, a lump forming in his throat so thick it nearly choked him. His hands curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he fought to hold back the tide of memories. Please, don't tell him… he begged inwardly, desperation flooding his heart and making his chest ache. The vulnerability of this moment, the threat of old wounds being exposed, left him feeling raw and defenseless.
"Whip scars?! I really don't know; does it have something to do with me?" Wei Wuxian's voice cracked with shock, his eyes wide, searching Xichen's face for answers he wasn't ready to hear. The disbelief in his tone was tinged with fear, as if he sensed that the truth would be more painful than ignorance.
"If it weren't related to you, could it be that he inflicted those wounds on himself for no reason?" Xichen shot back, his tone flat and unyielding, but beneath the surface, Wangji could hear the tremor of pain. The accusation was not just for Wei Wuxian, but for himself—for all the ways they had failed to protect each other.
"I... I..." Wei Wuxian stammered, his voice faltering as the weight of realization pressed down on him. The words caught in his throat, leaving him exposed and vulnerable, his usual composure shattered.
"You... have memory loss?" Lan Xichen asked, his sternness softening as concern creased his brow. He leaned forward, searching Wei Wuxian's eyes for any sign of recognition, of understanding.
"My memory?... I don't remember having…" Wei Wuxian's voice trailed off, confusion clouding his features. He pressed a trembling hand to his temple, as if he could force the memories back through sheer will. The atmosphere felt suddenly colder, the silence pressing in on all sides.
No, you don't even have to remember. I know how hard that time was for you, babe; please don't think about it… Wangji tried to comfort him, his heart aching with helplessness. But his words, so full of love and longing, were lost in the dreamscape, unheard and unheeded. He could only watch, powerless, as Wei Wuxian struggled to piece together the fragments of his past.
"Do you remember now?" Xichen pressed, his voice softer but no less insistent. Wangji's heart twisted painfully; he wished for silence, for mercy, instead of this relentless confrontation with the past.
"The time at Nightless City?... I-I always thought I somehow walked back on my own. Could it be…" Wei Wuxian's voice trembled, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as realization began to dawn. The memories were shadows at the edge of his mind—dark, formless, and terrifying. No, please don't remember those dark memories. I lost you that day because of them… Wangji's silent plea echoed in the space between them, thick with regret.
Tears welled in Wangji's eyes, blurring his vision as he fought to suppress the flood of emotions. The pain of that night, the helplessness, the fear of losing Wei Wuxian forever—it all came rushing back with brutal clarity.
"Young Master Wei! On the night at Nightless City, how many people were you fighting against?" Xichen demanded, his voice rising in intensity. "THREE THOUSAND!" he shouted, the number reverberating like a thunderclap. "No matter how much of a prodigy you were, retreating in one piece under those circumstances? NO WAY IT'S POSSIBLE!" The words were a desperate attempt to force understanding, to make Wei Wuxian see the truth of what he had endured.
"What did Lan Zhan do?" Wei Wuxian asked, confusion and concern mingling in his voice. He looked at Wangji, searching for answers, for reassurance.
"That night you sacrificed the Stygian Tiger Seal. After you were satisfied with the killing, it was already the end of the fight," Xichen explained, his voice steady but haunted. "He was in no better shape than you; I could barely move as well. All I could do was watch Wangji fly away on his sword with you." The memory was vivid in his mind—the sight of Wangji, battered and bleeding, cradling Wei Wuxian as they soared through the night sky, desperate to escape the carnage below.
"After that, we searched secretly for two days before we found your trace in the Yiling region. When we arrived, you sat blankly on a rock inside a cave," he continued, his tone softening with sorrow. "Wangji was holding your hand, sending you spiritual energy while whispering to you… 'GET LOST.' Uncle asked him to explain, but he said there was nothing to explain." The image was seared into Wangji's memory—Wei Wuxian, pale and silent, lost in a haze of pain, and himself, clinging to him with all the strength he had left.
Wangji felt a swell of emotions at Xichen's words—gratitude, sorrow, love, and regret all tangled together. His brother had never defied their uncle before, but in that moment, he had stood by Wangji, defending Wei Wuxian fiercely. For him… Wangji thought, his heart aching with all the things he could never say aloud.