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What if there was a body, after the fall of Wei Wuxian?
It is found by Jiang Wanyin and Lan Wangji. They shatter, at the sight of it - broken in black and red on the uneven ground. They shatter, each holding their grief tight. They almost come to blows, but there is no time. Who pays for the funeral? Who would even go to a wake for Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch? The Jiang can't publicly hold one.
But if Wei Wuxian’s body is found it is a certainty that it would get desecrated, or experimented on by the Jin or some other unsavory peoples. There's no time, no choice. They smuggle it out and tell the rest of the cultivation world that there's nothing, some dark magic at play, nothing was found.
There's no time to clean and robe him, to sit in vigil and keep watch over him for days till it is time. There is nobody, save the two of them, who would come to grieve, to say their goodbyes. The people who love Wei Wuxian are now mostly where he has gone.
They do their best. He cannot rest in the Jiang ancestral hall, but Jiang Cheng is sect leader now, and if he leads Lan Wangji to a private garden that they used to play in as children, well. Nobody else who could know that is alive, so.
They wash him, mirrored in their grief, their mutual understanding that neither did enough to protect someone they obviously loved. They do not speak to each other. Secrecy strips them of almost all the rituals that Wei Wuxian deserved.
There is no vigil, no mourners. No procession through the streets of crying people, no proof at all that Wei Wuxian was beloved in this world.
"At least we're younger than him. At least we can do this." Jiang Cheng mutters, hoarse.
Not that it would have mattered to either of them, that rule that elders cannot mourn their juniors. But it fits, because he was always jumping ahead of them, shixiong and elder disciple, always headfirst into the unknown, even in this.They bring him to the crematorium that's been serving the Jiang for generations. The old man is loyal, and respectful. The both of them weep, bereft, separately, when the smoke appears, particulate dark in the air. The unmaking of a body that used to house the first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang.
The urn is so small. How could such a small vessel hold a person? How could anything hold a person? They go back to that private courtyard. It'll have to be an open secret but the Jiang are loyal to their own, and well. If there's an unmarked shrine that shows up in sect leader Jiang's private courtyard, only the servants would know. So there's a shrine, a small one, with no name on it, overlooking a lotus pond. There are no words either want to say to Wei Wuxian in the presence of the other, but they both light incense, bow, hands shaking.
Jiang Cheng is so fucking angry, but for once the edges of that are subsumed with grief. Lan Wangji is much the same. They both want to hate each other so badly. But Lan Wangji is the only other person in all of the cultivation world who would have done this with him. Jiang Cheng does not doubt this for a second.
So he says "Thank you. If. If you want to come to Lotus Pier to pay respects. I think he would want that."
Lan Wangji nods, beyond grateful. They don't need to be friends, but they are accomplices in this. He receives a lotus tassel, not a token of passage per se, but something that allows him entrance into the courtyard by the servants. They almost never meet, after that. But the shrine always has offerings and fresh incense every morning. Jiang Cheng knows when Lan Wangji has come by, because he finds loquats when they're out of season, flowers that are only found in gusu.
When it is revealed that Lan Wangji is injured - his robes finally staining red through his bandages, Jiang Cheng snarls, irritable and frustrated. “Go home,” he says, and Lan Wangji tenses, ready to fight, ready to tell this man that nothing will keep him from where Wei Ying rests, but Jiang Cheng shoves a memorial tablet into his hands, and tells him to return to Lotus Pier when he is healed.
This way, he can still make offerings. Even in Gusu.
Lan Wangji clutches it in his hands, and bows, even as his back bleeds fresh.
---
It feels wrong, to be mourning Wei Wuxian in the Cloud Recesses. In the Jingshi, where he has never been. But still Lan Wangji does- unable to help himself. He offers incense and fruits every day, when he can. When he is done, he hides the tablet under that loose floorboard, along with all the other things he remembers Wei Ying by.
For 13 years, chrysanthemums grow alongside the gentians in the Jingshi’s garden.
When Wei Wuxian wakes up in a new body and is dragged to Lan Wangji’s personal quarters after 13 years of nothingness, he does what he does best. Makes mischief, snooping and prying, until the sound of a hollow cavity on the floor gives him pause. He finds that loose floorboard, laughing in delight at the jars of Emperor’s Smile.
Then, he sees the tablet. Normally, even he wouldn’t be quite so shameless as to touch something so personal, but he catches sight of the engraving, and everything stops for a moment as he stares at his own name, carved into stone, nestled amongst incense sticks and his favourite wine. There are cups, and the wine is half full, as is the package of incense sticks, like, like Lan Wangji makes offerings to Wei Wuxian’s spirit every day.
His chest does this terrible swoop and he wants to drop the act so badly. He once idly wondered if Lan zhan had ever burned joss paper or made offerings to him. What an answer to arrive at! What spoils and riches, after being reviled for so long. He is not as unloved as he thinks.
He's sitting for so long that lwj comes back and it's too late to shove everything back under the floorboards. They stare at each other in shock, but Lan Wangji does not get mad at Mo Xuanyu for disturbing something so obviously private. He just stares at him steadily, and says,"Wei Ying."
He is so sincere and quiet, and Wei Wuxian cannot deal with this. He died thinking he was hated and now he is faced with evidence to the contrary and everything about Lan Wangji’s actions up till now rearranges itself around this crucial information.
He chokes out one "Lan Zhan!" and flings himself at his friend. His anchor, his counterpoint. He is held, safe, alive.
After Guanyin temple, their road leads them back to Lotus Pier, and there in that courtyard is that little unmarked shrine, free of dust and well maintained. He stands in front of his own ashes and sees evidence that it has been tended to and loved with as much care as the Jiang ancestral hall. Sees lotus seed cakes on a little dish with little cups of lotus wine.
Wei Wuxian chokes on his tears and turns, seeking his brother. He finds Jiang Cheng, grabs him, and doesn't let go.