Chapter Text
Chapter One—The Exposition of the Past (Lan Zhan)
by Bocchan
Lan Zhan couldn’t breathe. The fever enveloped his senses, an inferno of both ice and fire scraped through his every vein. He had never felt this kind of pain before. His unresponsive body failed to move, even in his haze he felt the gazes of several people on him, slowly penetrating with judgment and disgust. For a brief moment, he had forgotten how he had come to this state. Thirty three lashes on his back. Hard enough to expose bone, painful enough to leave scars. Lan Zhan’s eyes fluttered under his lids. He could feel the cooling effect on his body, reminiscent of the healing waters. It was Lan Xichen. He had come to help him.
With willpower, Lan Zhan opened his eyes only to see the darkness. He hadn’t moved from his kneeling position all this time. He didn’t know what day it was or how long it had been. The realization dawned on him. Where was Wei Wuxian?
His eyes frantically searched the dark empty room, the silence pervasive, only the sound of his fevered breath echoed through the space. Lan Xichen sat quietly next to him, his face unreadable, holding a bowl with the healing water. Lan Zhan looked into his brothers eyes.
“Brother”
Lan Xichen slowly moved towards Lan Zhan, the bowl swishing. He reached Lan Zhan and scraped the dried blood from his back. Lan Zhan didn’t flinch, his entreating eyes following every movement his brother made. The scrubbing was the only noise in the room. Lan Zhan slowly breathed in and out as the wounds opened up once more and fresh blood trickled down his back. Lan Zhan did not see as Lan Xichen’s hands trembled, the bowl now red, and his hands clutching the cloth. Lan Xichen knew what he was going to say next.
“Brother. Where is Wei Ying?” The scrubbing stopped. Lan Xichen pursed his lips and hid his guilty eyes. You could hear a needle drop in the already frigid atmosphere. Lan Xichen, in his entire life, had always thought he was righteous. But now, he hated himself for what he was going to say.
He never wanted to tell Lan Zhan this. But he had to.
“He’s dead.”
Lan Zhan closed his eyes. His pale face paled even further and the ‘drip drip drip’ of his blood fell to the floor. His hands clenched tightly, drawing moons on his mangled palms. Lan Xichen anxiously waited for Lan Zhan’s words. He bowed his head in shame. While Lan Zhan was being punished, Burial Mound became a battlefield led by the sect leaders…himself included. He knew that what was happening was out of his control. But he was there, and he couldn’t save any of them. Lan Xichen was there when Wei Wuxian passed, and he witnessed the cheers and celebrations afterwards, knowing that he participated in the death of a young man who his brother was in love with.
And through this silence, he understood that Lan Zhan knew that as well. He reached to comfort Lan Zhan, but his hand was slapped away with so much force, it nearly upset his position. Lan Xichen held his stinging hand, but before he could utter a word, he heard Lan Zhan speak.
“Leave me.”
Lan Xichen opened his mouth in protest, but when he saw Lan Zhan’s eyes, it was as if a demon had invaded his brother. They were soulless and cruel. He could feel the distance between them become bigger, and now, it was like looking at a strangers eyes. Lan Xichen nodded his head in defeat, and silently left the room.
The room regained its deafening silence as Lan Zhan kept staring at the door his brother left through. He kept staring, long until the moon showed and long until the sun came up. He felt deep in his heart, something shatter. A string had been clipped, something inside him became unhinged. He grasped the remaining vestiges of his memories of Wei Ying and tightly pushed it deep into his heart. Why, he didn’t know. He could not understand these feelings of self -hatred. His eyes fluttered closed. Tears unknowingly fell through his closed lids, as repeat after repeat of his memories was dyed red with blood. Wei Ying’s ugly face, his arrogant demeanor, his robust laughter, his ‘thank you’s’ and ‘goodbyes’. The memories became scorched with poison as one by one, they were replaced with Wei Ying’s last words he ever said to him. “Get Lost”.
Lan Zhan covered his face with his bloody hands and for one brief moment, Cloud Recesses was shaken by the loud roars of an anguished boy, crying out a name which soon became taboo throughout the entire cultivation world.
.
.
.
1300 years later
Lan Zhan walked amidst the large crowds. Everyone with their heads held low, holding onto their little devices, ignorant of the dilemma going through him. He had recently bought one of these smart phones and had trouble with the musical application. He had returned to said store and the clerk blushed and stammered how to download music. He didn’t understand most of the words coming out of her mouth, but he kept nodding while looking as her hands kept pressing the phone even though no buttons could be found.
“What kind of music are you looking for? You can find a selection of which genre you would like to listen to on the app. I suggest this artist right here, she is very popular now.” Lan Zhan could see a photo of a woman holding onto a microphone and a beverage synonymously. His brows imperceptivity furrowed and slowly shook his head.
“I have a song on a CD. Can I put it on my phone?” He took out a CD, holding it like it was a precious treasure. The clerk awkwardly held the CD, and smiled.
“Uh...yeah, we can just burn the song onto a computer and import to your phone.” There was no kind of service like this, but the clerk just smiled as she explained using one of the computers on display. She inched her body closer to Lan Zhan as she kept talking, and her hooded eyes checked out this extremely handsome man. He was probably a model or something, no even better than that—A young second generation CEO. She ogled his brand clothing. A simple design which suited his perfectly sculptured body and made his princely aura even more pronounced.
She found one song on the CD and imported to his phone. She saw the title—Inquiry. Such a weird song name. She looked coquettishly as she handed him his phone with the new song, her hand caressing his a little too long. Lan Zhan thanked her and immediately left the store, leaving behind a huffy clerk who didn’t receive a tip or a phone number.
Lan Zhan received a call on his phone while walking, a number he was familiar with.
“Hanguang Jun, I heard you came back to Country M. How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?” The person on the other side of the line was none other than Nie Huaisang. He had also reached the cultivation of immortality, but had not ascended to the higher plane. Unlike Lan Xichen who ascended the mortal plane eight hundred years ago, or Jiang Cheng who left the world after the ripe old age of 325, Lan Zhan and Nie Huaisang were two out of ten who stayed in the world as an immortal and watched as the world of cultivation slowly disappeared.
He had long passed the immortal stage, and was just waiting for something…Anything. After Wei Wuxian left the world at Burial Mounds, Lan Zhan kept waiting. Waited after zombies became extinct thanks to Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, waited after cultivation died and became obscure, waited as cities bloomed and now in the present, he still waited.
“Mmm.”
“Hanguang Jun, lets meet up for a bit, I have something I want to talk about.” Lan Zhan paused a bit. He had long understood Nie Huaisang’s personality.
A thousand years ago, the entire cultivation world was shaken when Nie Huaisang murdered the reigning Lanling Jin Sect Jin Guangyao. It wasn’t until much later, after the trial headed by Lan Xichen did the truth come to light. And that was that Jin Guangyao had caused the Qi deviation of Nie Mingjue using a slow –acting poison in the form of “Song of Clarity”. As the person most affected by this, Lan Xichen was exempted from the trial and the prosecutor changed hands to Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan had removed Nie Huaisang as the Sect leader and banished him, which was the only option to save his life. Nie Huaisang had reached immortality a few years later and thanked Lan Zhan by staying by his side. Throughout this long period of time, Nie Huaisang was considered Lan Zhan’s closest confidante.
“What happened?” Lan Zhan could hear the opening of a fan over the phone. His scheming ways never changed.
“Something has happened within Country M. The demonic Qi has emanated a little too quickly…especially in the ruins of Burial Mound.” The name resounded in Lan Zhan’s head. A glimmer of a heartbeat flitted through him. Something akin to hope.
“I’ll come meet you soon.”
The call ended and Lan Zhan stared at his phone in wonderment. Demonic qi has not been a problem for over 500 years. However, Burial Mounds still held the most…but it was now almost gone? Something was wrong. Lan Zhan sighed deeply before returning to walk, now heading in the direction of Nie Huaisang.
He put ear-buds in his ears and played Inquiry. Like Demonic Qi, the surrounding spirits had weakened exponentially in the last centuries. But they were still there. And they still heard.
Lan Zhan for the first 20 years after Wei Ying’s death had followed the demonic qi in hopes of finding the remnants of Wei Wuxian’s soul. He followed many cases, ultimately making him renowned far and wide to take in the most difficult scenarios. He had lost hope once. When Wei Wuxian died, he thought he would die from the overwhelming feelings that enveloped him since they met all of those years ago. He ruined his home in Cloud Recesses, embedded the Wen sigil on his heart, and drank Emperor Smile to the point of poisoning his blood.
After 300 years, he was not so frantic anymore. Slowly making his way through the centuries, adding Inquiry to record players, cassette tapes, CDs and now onto a phone where it could play on repeat with the touch of an invisible button.
The little orbs of blue light circled him, quietly whispering. The large crowds were deafening, but the souls flitted around them, trying to tell him what they saw. He had gotten used to listening.
He walked with his head down, the long hair shorn to fit the modern era. Snow fell softly and touched his eyelashes, and a steady wind enveloped his body. He no longer felt the cold, and embraced the feeling of the cool wind on his face. He steadily made his way and crossed the street, hearing the honking of horns and the advertisements high on the buildings. The snow fell down harder and people opened their umbrellas so they could still use their phones. Like an unspoken signal, umbrellas of varying colors popped out like flowers.
Lan Zhan was about the reach Nie Huaisang’s location, before a whisper of something hit his cheek. He halted as the sounds of a flute filled his ears. He felt it. A small fluttering in his heart rippled through him. He turned around and faced the direction he had come from. On the corner, amidst the umbrellas stood a young man, his hands enveloped in gloves, his hood down, as if the snow didn’t bother him. A small ponytail at the nape of his neck and deep bottomless black eyes filled with mischief.
He held a small silver flute, his lips purple from the cold on the edge of the flute. And he played a song. The song…was Wangxian.
Lan Zhan slowly moved towards the enchanting creature, drinking in his visage like he was a mirage. The boy kept playing. Each note the same as he remembered. Tears welled into his eyes.
The young man could feel a gaze on him, and he turned his eyes to see a beautiful man walking towards him. He kept playing, but he couldn’t look away from those piercing amber eyes. He kept playing even when the man was right in front of him.
As the song played its final note, Lan Zhan could not stop himself. Lan Zhan didn’t care about anything at this moment. He pressed the young man to himself and hugged him. The boy yelped in surprise and struggled in his embrace. Lan Zhan held him tightly, his hands trembling. The young man’s struggles eventually subsided, as this sense of familiarity overwhelmed him. It was as if he knew who he was, and in a way…he did. Lan Zhan faced in the crook of the man’s neck, feeling the pulse there quickening.
It was him. He knew it was him. He choked out Wei Ying’s name as bitter tears soaked the collar of the young man’s neck. It was a name he hadn’t spoken since that day in Cloud Recesses. But now, he couldn’t stop saying it.
Wei Ying.