Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
Wei Wuxian does not die at Nightless City, nor does his body get torn into bits and pieces.
Instead, the five sects come to an agreement: in exchange for his life, he is to remain a prisoner indefinitely. Between the five Sects, Gusu Lan will be responsible for the demonic cultivator’s “treatment”. Every six months, relatives will be allowed to visit; for the rest, it is yearly. Not once is the prisoner to be released from his chains or to be allowed to “run free” across the Cloud Recesses. It is Sect Leader Yao who finishes off this last decree, vowing to “lock up the prisoner until he absolves from the demonic path completely.”
The resounding silence -- and the pure, unbridled anger in Lan Wangji’s face -- brooks no room for argument. He and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader had pushed for more, including freedom to travel and weekly visits from family, but Sect Leader Yao had been adamant. He grinds his stamp into the paper with an air of finality, then tosses the scroll to one of his aides.
“So be it,” Yao zong-zhu announces. “It is done.”
And so Wei Wuxian tears his eyes from his brother’s and sister’s faces, and tries not to flinch when the first of the chains are clamped upon his skin. The Jin disciple attends to him quietly, first binding his hands and wrists, then his ankles and feet. He bears the first four chains with grace, but when he sees what lies in the Jin disciple’s shaking hands, he cannot help but let out a slight whimper.
No.
It is a fine thing, the mouthguard, almost elegant in comparison to the crude chains wrapped around him. Sect Leader Yao eyes it hungrily, and the Jin disciple falters, almost as if he is unsure how to proceed.
“Sect Leader….” the disciple hesitates.
“What are you waiting for?” Yao zong-zhu demands. “Go on, put it on him!”
Wei Wuxian can feel his breath catching, his lungs trying to inflate around what seems to be very broken ribs. The chains don’t help much either, pulling on various bruises and cuts that line his body. He hisses when one of the chains bites into his bad leg, forcing him to balance awkwardly on one foot.
“Very well.” The disciple looks at him pityingly before unstrapping the bottom of the apparatus. As if in mockery, the headpiece fits him almost perfectly, allowing him room to bend and move his neck but not much else. He cannot help but cry out when the last clasp is fastened and the metal shifts over his lips. For a moment he coughs, breath catching, then realizes that there is still room to breathe. The metal fits like a mask over his lips, so while he can still speak, screaming and whistling are out of the option.
The rest of the cultivation world is watching when he straightens, wincing, to face them. He sees the horror in Jiang Cheng’s face and the tears in his shi-jie’s eyes before shaking his head minutely. He will do what he can, of course, but they must fend for themselves now.
Next to Sect Leader Yao, Lan Wangji is practically vibrating, having fixed the Sect Leader with a look that could freeze ice. The other cultivators huddle closer in the face of the Second Jade’s anger, shaking and murmuring amongst themselves. “Isn’t that too much?” A Jin cultivator speaks up. His hair is in disarray, his face white and bloodless. His bow is now useless, having been split in half during the battle. He looks at Wei Wuxian with a mixture of pity and disgust. “Yao zong-zhu, how will you be sure that he won’t bite back?”
“Hmph.” Sect Leader Yao smiles, as if observing a particularly unruly pet. “Rest assured, Disciple Yin. This metal is some of the finest that Yunmeng and Gusu could offer. Forged by our Lanling blacksmiths, Wei Wuxian here will not stand a chance.”
Gusu. He catches the fear in Lan Zhan’s gaze, the way he slumps forward as if punched. It’s okay, he thinks dully, but when Lan Zhan’s eyes meet his, there is only guilt and sadness in his gaze. I’m sorry, he mouths, but Wei Wuxian only shakes his head. It isn’t your fault.
“Well then!” Sect Leader Yao says, clapping his hands loudly. He drags his gaze over Jiang Cheng and Yanli, pinning them with his gaze. His brother is bristling, Zidian practically sparking at his wrist, while his sister glares back, white-faced.
“Sect Leader Yao,” Jiang Cheng grits out, “You insult me with your propriety. I was not aware of your sudden need for Yunmeng metals. Had I known it was for these…..purposes, I would have offered something different. Immediately.”
“No need to trouble yourself, Sect Leader Jiang,” Yao zong-zhu replies cheerily. “Back when Jiang Fengmian was still alive, these metals were given to me as a gesture of goodwill. As a matter of fact, it was your mother who picked them out, giving them to me personally.” Jiang Cheng pales even more at that, Sandu rattling madly in its sheath.
“Now then...the night is late, and I’m sure all of you need your rest.” Seemling pleased with himself, Yao zong-zhu excuses himself from the scene, giving another smile to the Jiang siblings as he does so. His gaze travels over Wei Wuxian as he leaves, and he laughs when he takes in the mouthpiece.
“A fitting contraption,” he mocks, and then the Sect Leader is gone, bloodstained robes flapping in his wake.
The moment Yao disappears his legs buckle, and then three figures rush up to him, clad in white and cream and purple.
“Shi-jie,” he manages, and strong hands wrap around his waist. He inhales the scent of sandalwood just as Jiang Yanli brushes a hand against his cheek.
“Oh, A-Xian…” Jiang Yanli breathes, her voice tight with worry. He watches as she takes in the chains, the mouthpiece, the dirt and blood smeared across his face. “We will get you out,” she says determinedly, giving his hand a squeeze. “I promise.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng agrees, his eyes softening as he meets Wei Wuxian’s gaze. “Who says we have to follow those stupid rules anyway? I swear, if those Lan elders don’t let us in the day after tomorrow, I’ll give the Cloud Recesses hell myself.”
Wei Wuxian lets out something between a cough and a laugh. “Okay,” he wheezes, reaching out a hand towards Jiang Cheng. His brother takes it, and for a second Zidian sparks to life, curling around both their wrists.
“Promise me you’ll take care of Jin Ling and Shi-jie,” he says, jerking away before he can see the surprise in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “And s-send me letters,” he blurts out, before he can forget. “I don’t know if it’s allowed, but...I’d like to know how you are doing, once in a while.”
“It will be allowed,” Lan Zhan says quietly, startling them. The Second Jade of Lan steps forward, keeping an arm around Wei Wuxian all the while. “Sect Leader Jiang, Jiang gu-niang. Rest assured; I promise to take care of Wei Ying to the best of my ability. And I will oversee Wei Ying’s letters personally, should the need arise.”
“Of course,” Jiang Cheng snorts, flicking Wei Wuxian’s arm lightly. “Might we expect a ceremony as well? Since you two are now joined at the hip.”
“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli chides, returning Lan Zhan’s words with a short bow. “Thank you for taking care of him, Young Master Lan,” she says softly. “In these times….there is no better place for A-Xian to be, than by your side.”
“Jie---” He protests, but the chain jerks against his leg and he recoils with a wince.
“You must be brave now, XianXian-ah.” His sister leans up and pecks a kiss against his cheek. “A-Cheng and I are so proud of you, you know that? Remember to take your meals and drink, and let Young Master Lan take care of you. Shi-jie will…” She breaks off suddenly, her voice catching. “Shi-jie will see you in a few months.”
“It will be like no time has passed,” he croaks, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “I mean it. Eat yue-bing and tang yuan for me, and send my love to Jin Ling. Please, tell him that.....that his Wei-jiu jiu is sorry.”
“Tell him yourself,” Jiang Cheng begins, only to be cut off by Yanli’s glare. “Fine, fine,” he snaps, looking more like an annoyed brother than the imposing Sect Leader he was just minutes ago. “I suppose we’ll bring Jin Ling along too,” he grumps, and Wei Wuxian beams.
“Take care,” he bites against the mouthpiece when Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli step backwards. Their faces are sorrowful when the Yunmeng retinue surrounds them, swords at the ready. “Return to Yunmeng safely.”
“You as well,” Jiang Cheng calls as the group begins to leave. “Don’t forget to eat breakfast, and remember to drink something warm with every meal. And sleep properly for once. That’s an order, A-Ying.”
“Of course,” he whispers, watching the familiar purple flags fluttering in the wind. As the last of the horses round the corner, he slumps backwards, swaying once more. The battle had taken much out of him, and the weight of the chains only made his injuries hurt worse.
“I will take him,” Lan Zhan says when a Lan disciple darts forward to help. Despite his own wounds, he lifts Wei Wuxian onto Bichen with ease. “Do not worry, Lan Feiying. Xichen will ride alongside me.” The First Jade steps forward, and Lan Fengying bows, retreating with a soft “As you wish.”
“Sleep,” says Lan Zhan when he and Lan Xichen take to the air. Despite the gravity of the situation, the weather is fair, and soon they are flying across hills and rivers, the waters reflecting images of soft, fluffy clouds. It reminds him of the Gusu rabbits, and he wonders what it would feel like to squish a poof of cloud against Lan Zhan’s face. It isn’t until the lush mountains appear that he begins to doze off, taking in the soft thrum of Bichen and the smell of sandalwood all the while.
“Wei Ying, rest,” Lan Zhan commands, and Wei Wuxian finally lets his mind go.