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Lan Wangji sat in front of his quqin holding a small bottle, a vial-like item in his hand. Poison, a potent poison. It wasn't easy to get it either; it had cost a lot, but that didn't matter anymore. He stared down at the strings of his favorite instrument and ran his fingers from the other hand over it.
He turned his eyes back to the vial and opened it, taking a small sniff, then, without another thought, drank it down in one gulp. He let the small bottle fall to the instrument with a soft chink as it hit the strings and wood. It nestled itself crookedly between the strings, and he stared down at it, unmoving for a long while, until he heard a familiar voice outside his bedroom door.
"Wangji?"
Xichen's voice. Lan Wangji was slow to stand from his spot and even slower to walk the ten steps to the door and slide it open. He was hesitant to look into his brother's eyes, to see the many emotions flickering through them. Shining with unshed tears, the sorrow he felt for him.
The regret that was Wangji was set to receive thirty-three lashes from the Lan Spiritual Whip for attacking the elders.
Xichen had talked to him last night before it was time for bed, allowing Wangji to explain himself fully. Xiche understood to a degree why his little brother had attacked the elders, but he also understood their uncle. Wangji was protecting someone he thought needed protection. Their uncle was trying to protect the clan and his nephews.
"Brother," Wangji greeted.
Though he didn't have any energy in that one single word, seemingly staring into Xichen's eyes with his very dull eyes.
Wangji didn't show much emotion, but eyes never lie. And Xichen had always been able to read Wangji like an open book when no one else, even their uncle, couldn't. But right now, Xichen saw no light in those eyes, as if Wangji had no feelings to feel. As if his brother wasn't even there, even though he was standing right in front of him.
Xichen took a look at his brother now, he was only half dressed, his inner robes pulled loosely around his though, and his outer robe hung open around his shoulders. His hair was full down, though the headband was still tied to his forehead. His skin seemed pale, almost as if he were sick with a cold or some other illness. His brother had dark circles underneath his eyes, the tell-tale sign of little to no sleep. He spotted his brother's beloved instrument lying elegantly on its usual table, his sword, though, nowhere to be seen. He was sure it was hanging on a hook out of his immediate eyesight.
"Wangji," Xichen whispered, the pain in his voice made Wangji flinch back slightly. "Come, brother."
Wangji could only nod. He didn't grab his sword or fix his robes and hair, he simply followed his brother to the Elegance Hall for his punishment.
And if Xichen had been a little more observant, he'd have noticed the little vial lying crookedly between the quqin's strings.
The walk to the hall was long and slow, both men taking their time, almost trying to bide their time until the inevitable. Wangji kept his eyes on the ground as he walked behind Xichen, forcing himself not to think about anything. Well, trying to force his mind to stop thinking, but a certain face of a man keeps forcing its way into his brain.
A bright and smiling face with a laugh so contagious you can't help but join in with the laughter. He faltered in his steps for a moment, almost as if his body was trying to tell him to stop and turn around. To run. Run far away and don't stop. He ignored his instincts, telling himself he deserved it, this punishment. He attacked his elders, including his uncle.
That face popped up once more, this time, wine was sliding down his chin and his neck. Barbarian. But he seemed free. Free to be himself, free to be as childish as he wanted. Wangji envied that.
Wangji shook his head a bit, forcing the image from his mind. He didn't want to think right now. He wanted to get this over with and sleep.
He was tired.
He hadn't even realized they stepped into the Elegance Hall until he heard his uncle's voice. For once, he didn't pay attention to the older man's voice, barely noticed the many disciples in the room, the elders he'd attacked. Xichen stepped off to the side as Wangji silently fell to his knees in front of his uncle.
Wangji turned his head, looking up at his brother. Xichen looked down at him, and he blinked several times, batting away tears threatening to fall.
He shifted his weight a moment, then tilted his head slightly to the right and smiled softly at him. This was the last time Xichen would see him, so he wanted his brother to remember him smiling. It was a tiny thing, but it was just for his brother, whom he loves more than anything. His brother, who had taken care of him the best he could after losing their parents, and with their uncle's strict teachings.
Xichen's eyes widened slightly at the sight. He wanted to gather Wangji in his arms as if he were a child again and run and hide him away in his room. Shield him from their uncle, from everything. But it was too late as the whip came down, cracking loudly and harshly against Wangji's back.
Wangji barely made a sound, flinching as it came down. Xichen could hardly watch but forced himself to. Kept his eyes on Wangji as it came down again, and again, and again.
Wangji made a whimpering sound at the 25th hit as it forced his body forward a bit.
Xichen observed his brother, his pale skin, his robes now even more disheveled. Wangji swayed a moment but stayed on his knees. He whimpered every time the whip came down now, unable to hide the pain. Xichen spotted the redness seeping into the back of his robes as the whip split and tore open his brother's skin.
On the thirty-third hit, Wangji didn't make a noise; he swayed in place and then fell to his side. His long, back hair fanned around his head and hiding some of his face. His headband had long gone askew, had untied itself, falling away as he hit the ground.
Wangi coughed once, twice, and then a third time. His eyesight went blurry as Xichen's face came into view.
He was saying something to him, but it was muffled, quiet. He couldn't hear him, could barely see the concerned look on his face. He barely felt Xichen touch his wrist and press down on his pulse point. He barely registered Xichen screaming for a disciple to get a medic.
He was fading and fast, but... that was fine. There wasn't anything he wanted in this lifetime. Nothing for him to do in this lifetime.
His only regret, putting that horrible look of desperation on his brother's face. The anxiety and concern and helplessness. The heartbreak that Xichen was losing him. His brother had deserved more, everything he wanted or needed. Xichen was a kind, soft-hearted man.
Wangji just didn't know what to do; he had done everything he could to help people in need, to protect those who needed protecting, but he failed. The one person he promised to himself he'd protect and... he failed.
He let his eyes close to the blurry image of his brother.
~~~~
When Lan Wangji's eyes opened, his first thought was that the poison had failed or his brother had managed to save him. But he blinked the blurriness away and looked around. He was surrounded by trees, a forest, then. He was in a forest.
Sitting up, he realized he'd been lying on some moss next to a big tree. He got to his feet and slowly began walking around, taking in the massive trees around him. His body felt different, lighter almost, as if he were floating instead of walking.
He came upon a small clearing, and it seemed no one else was there; he was alone.
Is this the afterlife? He thought, wandering around in a forest? Were there others here?
Something shuffed off to the side and turned to investigate, spotting two little rabbits, one black and one white. They seemed to be playing with each other. He blinked, though, realizing they were translucent, almost see-through. He focused his attention back on his surroundings and continued his walk through the forest.
He walked for a while through the forest, finding other small animals, translucent like the rabbits from earlier. Cats, dogs, deer, birds, and much more.
The forest was quiet, he didn't even hear any bird chirp or hear a dog bark.
Am I the only human here? He thought to himself just as he came upon another clearing, but this one seemed different. The trees surrounding this clearing seemed dead, almost. No, they were charred, burnt, as if they had been set ablaze. They were black and the bark was coming off in chunks, falling to the ground with no sound.
"Lan... Wangji?"
A voice, soft, whispered, came from his left. He turned around, his hair whipping around his shoulder as he came face to face with the one man he could never get off his mind.
"Wei Ying," He said, voice breathy, sighing the man's name through his lips.
He almost looked no different, with long black hair, tied halfway up and down. His black and translucent flute to his side, his robes sway, almost like water around his feet. The only difference was that he was just as translucent as the rabbits and other animals.
"What are you doing here?" Wei Ying asked him, walking, no more like floating, toward him.
Wangji was silent, unable to tell him what he had done, what had happened. No, more like he wasn't sure how to tell him. He'd drunk a vial of potent poison, let himself he whipped, and then promptly died afterward.
"How did you die?" Wei Wuxian asked next stepping closer to him, his eyes wide, the gray iris' shining in concern.
Wangji tensed a bit though it didn't feel like his body physically tensed. Almost like his body physically couldn't do anything it was able to while he'd been alive.
But this was a simple question, one he could answer in one word without having to explain himself
"Poison," He said.
Wei Wuxian blinked slowly and then said, "If... if you're here, then you... You have passed on."
Wangji only nodded, they both knew that meaning. Wangji wanted it, he was okay with it, he had felt at peace now that he was in the land of the dead.
"Come with me," Wei Ying said and turned, walking away.
Wangji followed him as the forest began morphing in front of his eyes and then he was surrounded by people. People he recognized, although he'd only seen them once.
The last of the Wen's, the people Wei Wuxian had been protecting. Then he saw her, Wen Qing she was staring at him eyes as wide as saucers. Then he saw something small hiding behind her dress, peeking his little eyes out from behind her.
The young child Wei Ying had done everything he could to protect. He'd died.
"This is death, Lan Wangji," Wei Ying said next to him, "We're wandering souls, but I sense a special place we can go, where other souls gather. We're heading there, it's... all we can do now."
Lan Wangji didn't say anything, observing the souls around him, then turned back to Wei Wuxian. His biggest regret when he was alive was not choosing Wei Ying.
He's choosing him now. After death, he's choosing him now.