Chapter Text
“You make me feel like I'm lost Up in the clouds, talking in my sleep”
The scenes from that rainy day kept repeating time after time in his head. The contradictions, the incoherence, his actions and his decisions punished him day and night, taking away his appetite and his sleep. His eyes, once kind, now had horrible bags under them that exposed him. It had almost been a month since the ceremony that sealed his brothers had taken place, and he could hardly keep up with the routine and responsibilities that were his obligations, as clan leader of the Lan sect. The exterior world overwhelmed him in a way that seemed unbearable. Even in his presence several cultivators kept talking about the recent happenings, the sharp tongues took no reserve when it was about Jin Guangyao. Every judgment and mockery against his brother became a dagger that pierced through his flesh, but regardless of how painful it was, Lan Xichen was unable to do anything besides pretend not to hear such hurtful words. Having no consideration for his own feelings, Zewu-jun was unable to defend everyone's new villain.
How could he, when it was he himself who had pierced Shuoyue through his chest, with such a cold determination that it seemed to do justice to his name? He only had the right to remain silent and shoulder his responsibilities, a lighter load compared to the one he carried in his heart.
Guilt. He felt guilty for his elder brother, after all A-yao learned that melody thanks to him, it was also he who insisted on those meetings, those that led to an early death and a reconciliation that never arrived. Guilty for not wanting to listen to the judgment and inflexible criterion of Nie Mingjue, not wanting to see the dark side of Meng Yao, that young man that without having a reason, helped him in his weakest moment. Guilt for not believing in him until the end.
After two months since the incident, it became impossible for Lan Xichen to leave the Hanshi. His state of mind didn’t let him fulfill his obligations and Lan Qiren seemed less tolerant of his errors and absences every time.
The seclusion would do him good for a short while, but the truth is that even when the time extended past his uncle's expectations, nothing seemed to improve. It was the same guilt closing his stomach and taking away his sleep. Eating or sleeping seemed to be a forbidden luxury for him.
What right did he have to continue living or even to think about ending his life? The jade couldn’t do anything but live with that weight until the end of his days.
Lately the nightmares were something recurrent for Lan Xichen. He had lost count of the number of times his sword pierced A-yao's chest in dreams, and in contrast, with his last strength, his younger brother's hand touched his chest to separate him from the mortal grasp of Nie Mingjue.
Sleeping became a torture for him. That's why even past 9 at night, Lan Xichen stood awake, as rebellious as he'd never been. Sometimes meditating, just sitting in the darkness of his room. Other times, like today, he would lie in his bed with a lost gaze and a whirlpool of thoughts consuming his head until the sun came out again or until he was defeated by the fatigue.
No matter how much his uncle or the entire world wanted to convince him that he actually did “the right thing to do”, or that it was an “inevitable ending”, he knew that he could never forgive himself.
Was all this a bit similar to what his father felt? His eyes became red at the thought and his lips stressed with bitterness. How selfish he had been his entire life saying that he'd rather not meddle in the affairs of his parents, for not wanting to understand their motives or decisions. Maybe now, somehow, he could understand. But that's precisely why crying seemed like a luxury he didn’t deserve.
And his brother? What did Wangji do when the world shredded the Yiling patriarch with awful words? How much pain did he endure in silence?
Xichen frowned, not wanting to remember those days in which his brother seemed to have lost his way. But his brother, oh! how he admired his brother who, at least, had the courage to stand up for the person that was most important to him, regardless of the judgment of his family and his sect, not even his own judgment. Not like him, who was unable to do anything but a final stabbing. Maybe if his body was also marked with scars of a deserved punishment for protecting Nie Mingjue or Jin Guangyao, the loss would be less unbearable.
The first master of Lan let out a long resigned sigh and got up from the bed. If he continued to sink in the blankets and his thoughts, he would end up going crazy.
Maybe encouraged by his brother's example or by the mere teenage rebelliousness now at his thirties, he headed towards an ancient shelf on which an elegant white porcelain jar with golden details rested, previous courtesy of Lianfang-zun when he still sat atop the cultivation world. A gift most inadequate considering the well known alcohol abstinence of the Lan Sect, but Zewu-jun had accepted it with pleasure. After all, he would have been lying if he said that he never got drunk with A-Yao. More than once their discussions nights at Lanling had ended in laughter and light conversation, with Xiao and Guqin duets, in a complicity that he would never have again with anyone else.
He was reminded that the liquor was sweet and strong. The pleasant taste and the zero tolerance that Lan Xichen had for alcohol were the perfect combination to give his troubled mind some rest.
Maybe that was the reason why Lan Wangji became drunk during "that" time too? No, surely that wasn’t the only reason, but maybe one of them.
The Lan sect leader walked in the shadows through the Hanshi with the bottle in his hands as if it was something excessively precious, which it was, in fact. It was a cherished memory. He sat with nostalgia pressing his throat and served the first drink. Minutes passed in silence and even if just one cup was enough to get Lan Xichen drunk, an hour later the fancy bottle lacked almost half of its content and the consequences were, at least, notorious.
Surely he was the only person awake at that time in the entire Cloud Recess. He had his cheeks burning, as well as the tip of his nose. His eyes were glassy, although it may not be only because of the liquor. A soft smile rested on his lips as he struggled to keep a good posture, sitting alone before the table in his room. Sometimes words slipped out of his mouth, trying to keep a conversation with the two inexistent ghosts sitting with him. One at each side, just as the day they made the oath that bound them as brothers, even after death.
“A-Yao, you should've trusted more in your brothers!” he claimed as if there were someone to listen to his demands.
“Da-ge, you... should have taken my life too!” His demand was accompanied by a playful laugh, a kind of laugh that could only be heard in his mouth when he was drunk, but that sound vanished little by little until it was no more.
Silence flooded the room once more and the smile on his lips disappeared too.
The truth was that Xichen thought himself unworthy of going with them. He knew. A-Yao had told him with his last look, in that last breath of life. Who was worthy of ending his life was Nie Mingjue, the one that had seen through his facade, not Lan Xichen. Thus he less had the right to accompany them, after all, the first jade of the Lan was just another person that turned his back to Jin Guangyao, just like the rest of the world.
“Er-ge!”
A familiar voice drew his attention, although he couldn’t identify who it was. By reflex the elder jade raised his head so suddenly that the world around him seemed to spin a couple of times. When he managed to focus his sight again, he found nothing but darkness surrounding him.
“Er-ge!”
But there it was, now farther away. That voice seemed to distance itself from the Hanshi and something on him told him that he couldn’t let it happen. Even with his somewhat cramped legs, he rose from his seat, determined to leave his room, completely forgetting what seclusion meant.
That voice.... That voice was...!
He thought he saw a shadow in the corridors, although it probably was just an alcohol fueled delirium. Even though, he went through the Cloud Recess as if he was a moth chasing the light.
“Er-ge...?”
His steps suddenly came to a stop. The voice called for him from the other side of a door. Lan Xichen frowned, confused by the situation. That was his brother's room, the Jingshi. It was impossible for someone to be inside there, because even as drunk as he was, the first Jade of the Lan knew his brother was out on a trip with his cultivation partner.
“Zewu-jun!” but that, without a doubt, was the voice of Jin Guangyao.
Guided by impulse, he opened the doors to the Jingshi without any gentleness, desperate at the idea that there was at least a trace of his sworn brother's soul calling for him. For an instant Lan Xichen seemed to be much more lucid, but less composed than he had ever been.
But once again the darkness was the only thing around him.
“A-Yao...? A-Yao, is that you...?” his voice sounded fragile as a crystal about to shatter. He was afraid of losing his chance with it, but such a possibility never existed in the first place.
Deep in his heart, the sect leader knew well that his younger brother's soul was locked in that coffin and couldn’t exit or reincarnate for hundreds or maybe thousands of years.
Once again a soft laughter escaped his lips because of the alcohol or maybe because of how ridiculous and helpless he felt. His eyes stung with frustration and this time he couldn't hold back the tears that rolled down his cheeks. All the wailing contained during those two months was finally freed, but they were silent tears. His chest hurt, right where Jin Guangyao placed his hand to push him away. It hurts and maybe will keep hurting forever.
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please don't hate me!” he mumbled through his teeth, falling to his knees in his brother's room.
“Please... forgive me! And don't forget about me!” his body tilted forward as he hugged his trembling shoulders almost pressing his forehead on the ground, as if he was begging for his life.
His tears fell on his clothes and the dark wooden floor. He cried and cried until his eyes became swollen, until his body, weakened by the seclusion and the alcohol, gave in to tiredness. His face was a disaster, if anyone were to see him in that state, so vulnerable and exposed laying on the floor of the Jingshi, they would doubt that he was, in fact, Zewu-jun.
But wasn't he also human?
After some minutes, his head felt lighter.
His nose picked up an almost undetectable scent, maybe an old incense different from the known sandalwood scent of his brother. Without taking notice, perhaps because of his weakened state, Lan Xichen's subconscious was trapped in the lingering effect of the incense burner that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian found some weeks ago before leaving.
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When his eyelids opened, the orange light of candles made him close them again. His head was still spinning, he was possibly still drunk. That would explain why his body felt so heavy. It seemed impossible to stand up. Regardless of that, he was lying on the wooden floor, more comfortable than even his own bed.
Strange.
A delicate scent of plum flowers filled the air and he let himself smile openly. He knew his surroundings well, yet his mind refused to identify it clearly.
A subtle tickle like hair grazing over the skin, on his face and neck, stole a sigh from Lan Xichen. At that instant and as the caresses kept going down his chest, the tickling became more noticeable. Those were strokes given by hands finer and smaller than his and those hands surely knew how to steal a sigh from him.
Only then his mind comprehend that he couldn’t rise not because of his own body, but from the weight of another body over him.
He wanted to open his eyes and raise his head to find the culprit, however everything kept spinning, blurred and shapeless. He only could tell colours and scents, because his body senses became sharp at the lack of a better vision.
The hands kept going lower on his torso, dangerously undoing his white clothes. Lan Xichen's lips let out a new sigh, more like of a humble moan when these hands casually grazed at his still covered crotch. His expression made his counterpart's fingers tremble, as if facing an unexpected reaction from him.
A tender laugh, sweet and intoxicating as the liquor that kept him vulnerable reached Xichen’s ears and before he was able to ask who it was, something equally sweet touched his lips.
A kiss.
In the beginning the kiss was a stroke as subtle as the first touch on his body, but instantly he was surprised by the change in intensity. It made it evident how skilled the owner of such vicious lips was.
The surprise made Xichen react a bit late. When he tried to do something to distance himself from his abuser, his body betrayed him, answering that kiss by itself, yearning, parting his lips to let the other person do as they pleased with his mouth, interlacing their tongues, enjoying such an unusual situation.
Had he ever kissed someone in that way before?
The sensations were so familiar, but right now his mind was unable to remember it. The scent of alcohol kept mixing in both mouths, the moist sounds of a kiss and the moderate roughness in the bites that his assailant gave him were a stimulus that he seemed to enjoy. That was evident, especially by the growing discomfort in his lower parts.
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When Lan Xichen's eyelids opened all at once, he instantly recognized where he was: The Hanshi.
He could still feel his pulse accelerated and the heat distributed all over him, but he also could feel a great void at the loss of weight on his body, although perhaps the void was much larger in his heart.
The jade gave a long sigh, he didn’t know what time it was and the memories of the previous night were too fuzzy in his head. However, his face had improved a little after having finally experienced a good dream after so long. Even his appetite had been a bit restored.
He was about to leave the bed when he detected a familiar presence approaching his room. After a few moments the voice of Lan Wangji asked permission to enter and, of course, his elder brother granted it.
"Wangji, you're back," the older one greeted with his usual smile.
“Mn. Last night. " said Lan Wangji.
"Oh, I see. " Xichen couldn’t help but to look away and speculate about what had happened the night before. The emphasis his brother had made on that simple answer explained how he had woken up in his room and not on the floor of the Jingshi.
“How was your trip?” He tried to change the subject to his brother and his beloved since this one, to his surprise, wasn’t there with Lan Wangji.
"Wei Ying ... he was the one who found you." The second jade of Lan didn’t seem to appreciate his brother's effort to evade the matter.
Xichen's gaze stuck to the ground after Lan Zhan glanced on the Hanshi's table, where the refined bottle of liquor still remained.
“...” He seemed worried, but he didn't make judgment or question towards Xichen.
Hanguang-jun awaited for an explanation without having to demand it with words and his brother knew, after all he was the one who knew his little brother best. Although he was no longer sure he was the only one with that ability.
A heavy sigh began his explanation. He had no reason to hide the truth from Wangji, much less to lie. In fact, it wasn't necessary to be a genius or think too much to understand his current state.
“I haven’t been able to sleep for some time. Everytime I close my eyes, my mind tries to torment me with my mistakes of the past, regardless of whether I meditate or keep myself in seclusion," His hands clenched, tightening the sheets with shame and frustration.
“Wangji... I'm... very tired.”
Lan Zhan had never felt so much bitterness in his brother's voice.
"I ..." The one with clear eyes wanted to explain to his brother that he didn’t repudiate his actions. He understood better than anyone the hopelessness and despair, although the situations and people involved were different.
Lan XiChen returned a smile, understanding his concern. A tired, but sincere smile.
“The impulsivity of alcohol led me to leave the Hanshi. I ended up in your room and, honestly, I don't remember very well what happened, but for some reason I finally managed to have a nice dream." unconsciously the elder one put a hand to his lips while trying to remember, but everything was still very vague and confusing.
Lan Zhan paled.
“In the ... Jingshi?” He asked.
“Hanguang-jun! “ Wei Wuxian’s animated voice interrupted, apparently he had been listening all the conversation from the door or, at least, a large part of it. Standing with his arms crossed and the bright smile on his face that characterized him.
“Wei Ying…”
"Maybe we should lend our little discovery to Zewu-jun for a while.”
The discovery he was referring to, of course, was the incense burner that they had found only a few weeks ago, investigated and put away again so that no one else was affected by its powers. But apparently there was still a remnant effect that, although it no longer affected Wei Wuxian or Lan Wangji, in the weak physical and mental state in which the Sect Leader Lan currently was, it wasn’t surprising that he had been affected for that minimum residual power.
For a moment Xichen seemed to see panic in his brother's face.
"At least it will help him to rest at night,” said Wei Ying, who knew how worried Lan Wangji was about his brother's condition when he didn’t find a way to help him as Lan Xichen had helped him after the siege on Mount Luanzang.
“And maybe that way Zewu-jun can avoid breaking more rules than he already has. After all, we don't want your uncle to end up coughing up blood from stress, do we?” Wei Wuxian’s sight also settled on the delicate porcelain that contained Lanling's liquor.
“Mnh.”
After receiving the approval of his cultivation partner, Wei Ying approached smiling until he reached Lan Wangji’s side.
“Can I ask what are you talking about? “ inquired Lan Xichen.
Wei Wuxian took the time to explain to Zewu-jun about the strange object they had found and that was, apparently, quite harmless. Although it could be simply perfect for this case. Of course, to Lan Wangji's reassurance, unnecessary details of his research were ignored.
As they expected, even the leader of the Lan sect had never heard or read anything about this mysterious object, but confident in his brother's judgements, he finally accepted the offer.
“Wangji ... Young Master Wei ... I appreciate your concern. I will be happy to receive that object. I would also like to take the opportunity to investigate its origin and effects,”
The other two nodded and soon retreated to search for the incense burner.
Zewu-jun, on the other hand, hoped to be able to remember more of what his dream was about next time.