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A/N: Helloooo and happy new year! 🎉It is gonna be the year of the Fire Horse, and I hope that everyone’s 2026 has gotten off to a great start! I know I said that I wanted to write more one shots in this lil universe, but a Wen Ning POV was the one to suddenly creep up on me!
Hope you enjoy this short little story! Kinda covers a lot of AFHITMS, and some of it post-ch. 22!
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The gentle hum of a creek, the chirping birds at dawn, the dark thickets of swaying trees… The fresh scent of nature with a bitter bite of frost during winter. The embrace of parents, the doting older sister. If one asked Wen Ning what his earliest memories contained, he would answer that they came to him in flashes of sensation, more than anything. His mother and Wen Qing had a tea that they liked to drink, and all he has to do right now is close his eyes and he’s taken back to their humble home with the smell of ginseng, longan berry, and freshly processed green tea leaves. He can almost see the visage of his father walking in and out of his peripherals, when lots of people knocked at their doors and sought his guidance.
That life is long gone, now.
The precious tranquility of Dafan was marred by loss as their parents, along with quite a few others, never came back from the Temple of the Dancing Goddess. Wen Ning tries to go back often, but he can never bring himself to stay for the same reason as Qing-chi; it does not feel the same, anymore. Not only do the deaths of their parents and older family members linger like unwanted shadows, Wen Ning truthfully does not feel the same about himself anymore, either. He’s a Wen from Dafan Mountain, and is proud of where he comes from, but the difference between the Wen Ning that left his home for Nightless City is an ocean away from who he is now.
Wen Qing, sitting directly adjacent to the Lotus Throne all the way in Yunmeng, probably understands the feeling.
Wen Ning chews on his bottom lip, a nervous habit he never quite let go of, as he dismisses the palace guards. All of them saluting before they make their way to their assigned postings, and he lets himself recline against the sturdy, dark wood of his chair. He thinks back to that moment, when the main carriage bearing the ornate crest and richly-dressed cultivators from the ruling Wen line made their stop at Wen Ning and Wen Qing’s humble village; it’s the same crest that he’s seen every day for decades now. But that little, defining memory is also where Wen Ning feels his head split in two different directions; in one life, he sees a warm smile and gentle hands guiding and supporting him as he waddles into the creek. In the other life, that same smile is curled upwards in cruelty, and those hands push him down and tease meanly. Sometimes, Wen Ning got confused and didn’t know which reality he occupied, but all he had to do was look for the hands to ground him.
If they stung and spurned him, it was that life.
Wen Ning is not there – in the undead nightmare of living while his whole clan is erased, with his master, creator, and love driven to madness – he’s here, with a Qishan that will never grow as cruel, where his people aren’t ripped apart and thrown to golden wolves, one where Wen Ning is overflowing with so much love he feels like bursting –
– He’s okay, he has to tell himself he is okay.
But sometimes, he really doesn’t feel okay, because he feels that gaping hole inside the other Wen Ning, the Ghost General who always feels like he’s drowning in muted palettes of emotion but somehow always hungry for something he can never have again.
On the days the nightmares wake him up, Wei Ying will twirl sleepy fingers and the cold, grounding feeling of yin soothes him back into gentleness. Other times, Lan Zhan is the one who summons Wangji for an even gentler rendition of Cleansing. On the really bad days, Wen Ning gets both, and doesn’t quite know how to temper the warring feelings of shame and gratitude for the attention of his loving spouses who brush aside their own needs to soothe his burdensome night terrors.
Sometimes he feels like talking about it, but for the majority of the times he wakes up like this, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to talk to this Wei Ying about what it’s like to suffer starvation, radishes, and corpses so intimately, or that he knows the exact moment Wei Ying and the last Wens depart the world because it feels like a second death that never ends.
And Lan Wangji… Well, Wen Ning can say that he never could have imagined their relationship being what it is in this world, when the only thing that tied him to Lan Zhan was the mutually-held fire of devotion for Wei Wuxian. They may have grown to respect the other’s place in his life after the unfortunate occurrences at Guanyin Temple, but some rivers were far too big to cross.
No, Wen Ning vastly prefers this wonderful, messy life he found himself in. His parents are gone, but Dafan still stands. The Qishan Wen still exist, but they are not so self-destructive and oppressive, and he’s found a place in it alongside his sister. Wen Qing, his sister who was burned alive and spurned for her brilliance, compassion, and the Wen name… Wen Qing lives. She’s happy, in love, and appreciated instead of feared.
He himself is in love, and happy. Wei Ying, the man he’s loved so fiercely in both his lives, sleeps beside him every night with a full belly and the sparkle of self-confidence that can only grow from belonging to a loving family.
(It makes the Ghost General’s spirit roar in broken triumph – it’s what Young Master Wei deserved, the least that they owed him –)
And on the other side of them, is the enigma that is Lan Zhan. He understood abstractly that it was possible to have room in his heart for many different kinds of love for others, but his soft heart really stood no chance of resisting when it bore the onslaught of Lan Zhan’s gentle ministrations and quiet acts of devotion.
Truth be told, Wen Ning doesn’t remember exactly when the dreams start. It could have been when he settled into his new life with Wen Qing and Wen a-ma at Nightless City, it could have been when they started plotting against his uncle with the use of yin energy cultivations, or it might have even been when Wen Chao brought Meng Yao home.
(If he looked too quickly, he sometimes still saw a figure clothed in gold, commanding a black-clad cultivator with a wicked, curved blade and a meaner smile to match that it was time to begin, before all he knew was pain again.)
It doesn’t actually matter when it began, but he remembers the feeling of that small, manageable trickle becoming more akin to a waterfall once Wen Chao came back from the Burial Mounds, drenched in the dense yin energy and choking in the bitter smoke of the Yin Iron. His poor cousin had even looked emaciated, eyes sunken in like he hadn’t slept accompanied by sentient fierce corpses that he named his Ghost Generals, playing his xiao with a jagged edge of carelessness that he had only ever seen from someone else.
(Yiling Patriarch, it whispered… Something inside Wen Ning twitched and wanted to reach out for both Wen Chao and Wei Ying, only to grasp nothing at all.)
There was more… Something else laying dormant perhaps the whole of this life, which had risen when he had nothing but a trusty bow, the night-sky shine of Black Tiger, and only his will to keep himself, Wen Qing, Wen a-ma, and Xue Yang safe. He didn’t know how he could possibly defend the Phoenix Landing Pavilion from his uncle’s troops if they broke through, but he definitely knew that he absolutely would.
(The Ghost General was used to dispatching threats, this would be no different.)
And after all was said and done, the confirmation that Chao-tong-hian was also an anomaly to this world (more like two than three) left Wen Ning breathless. It meant that everything Wen Ning saw and felt was real, even if it would never pass.
Or pass again.
Wen Qing and Wei Ying… His whole family, in truth, were hurt that he had hidden such a large truth from them. However, until Wen Chao spoke about his own shocking secrets, Wen Ning didn’t have a way of assuming his dreams, visions, and incongruent memories were not simply the products of an overactive and imbalanced mind… One such phrase he raised in his own defense many times after being confronted about it.
Despite being accepted and the repeated efforts on the part of his loved ones to listen to his remembered experiences, Wen Ning hesitates at sharing the bloodiest details of his burdens.
He’s searched for hints that his former maker, his former master (and love), exists somewhere within the playfully familiar glint of Wei Ying’s eyes.
And then he wants to weep and rejoice as soon as he finds nothing.
(‘Why would Wei Ying want to remember such a horrid thing, anyway?,’ Wen Ning wouldn’t, in his place.)
It is not always so bad, though. His father’s gentle admonishment to not decline a person who has a predestined relationship rings in his ears, especially at those times. Wen Ning believes that perhaps this overlapping of worlds proves that certain people were always meant to connect with each other, and he’s a bit sad that he could never tell his father over a cup of tea that his favorite proverb was actually real.
It’s as beautiful as it is painful that he finds himself tangled in the net woven by all the central players of his last life.
It is in this murky overlap of an underlying, buried layer of anxiety and breaking the surface of a tranquil lake that Wen Ning will always remember the first kiss he ever had in either of his lives – palms sweaty in a quiet alcove as a thirteen-year-old A-Ying coyly twirls his hair around one finger before leaning in with a smile – and the euphoria he felt at meeting him half-way before stealing A-Ying’s breath away.
He also remembers his first kiss with Lan Zhan shortly afterwards, during a visit from the Twin Jades and Wandering Cultivator Zhou. He remembers feeling wrong-footed as he apparently missed the constant flirting that A-Zhan was doing with them both, before Wei Ying put them out of their misery over tea in their private rooms, the air odd with trepidation and something else he couldn’t name. Slamming his cup down, tea splashing everywhere and startling Wen Ning out of his distracted reverie, Wei Ying brightly declared he wouldn’t kiss Lan Zhan before Wen Ning got both their first kisses.
(He’s a grown man, married to them both, but the memory still brings a round of teasing smiles from Wei Ying and matching flaming faces from him and Lan Zhan.)
Knowing what he did about the Ghost General’s life, he knew that he could have never imagined not only getting to express his quiet affection for Wei Ying, but that he could also grow to love Lan Zhan as fiercely as he did, either.
Wen Ning was not oblivious to the other man’s beauty; Lan Zhan’s smiles were far less frequent than Lan Xichen’s, but the sweetness and warmth of them could convert even the bitterest of misers. When they used to visit Qishan as children, Wen Ning was pleased to see that the loosening of the Lan clan’s legendary austerity had facilitated a more expressive Lan Wangji, who was less afraid to share his own thoughts and opinions as well as encouraging his receptiveness to those of others. Lan Zhan fit right in with them, his temperament like the gentle cooling of the Dafan Mountain creeks to Wei Ying’s sunshine.
And Wen Ning? Wen Ning was their gingko tree; he felt simultaneously old and young, forever reaching for the sun above and gently nourished by the waters below.
(He hadn’t said anything at the time, but he knew that as soon as he kissed them both, he would be forever reaching for them anyway.)
Wen Ning is sixteen when he feels like he can’t take it anymore.
He loves A-Ying and A-Zhan like he’s never loved anyone before and treasures the lives they are all building together, but he feels broken and damaged. His headaches from the constant onslaught of flashing images, of feelings and painful sensations from enemies that won’t even exist here, become too much; he has now reached the point where he’s working every day to hide when his hands shake, when his chest aches, and his breath is stolen from him.
He doesn’t belong here, he doesn’t deserve this happiness while his counterpart had to watch everything slowly wither away from him. He can’t pretend like nothing’s wrong when there’s so much that seems to be wrong with him.
On ill-advised impulse, he finds himself in front of Wen Chao’s quarters, rattled and not of clear head after Wei Ying had been dropping hints of a three-partner marriage of all things, and both Wen Ning and the Ghost General feel like they’re about ready to claw their way up from inside of him. He bypasses Wen Chao’s security without raising a hair of alarm (and makes a mental note to make some changes to the inlaid traps and roster of guards) before he’s in front of Wen Chao’s inner chambers, hands twisting within the fabric of his robes as he worked up the nerve to knock.
The choice is taken from him as the door slowly opens.
“A-Ning, what’s tying you in knots this evening?” Wen Chao, only a few days off from his own wedding to Nie Huaisang, answers the door with sleepy eyes, mussed hair, and underrobes.
Wen Ning abruptly feels even guiltier.
There must be something interesting about his expression, because Wen Chao’s eyes instantly grow alert and he drags A-Ning in, setting about fixing tea as Wen Ning numbly drops into the seat Chao-tong-hian pushed him towards. He notes his hands idly twitching at his sides, feeling restless but rooted in place.
“Here, Ning-tong-ti, from Wen Qing.” A familiar smelling tea is placed in front of him, and he’s immediately awakened by the gentle fragrance of jujube. He takes a careful sip, mindful of the heat before he meets Wen Chao’s knowing eyes. Setting down the cup, he feels his vision going blurry.
“– Chao-tong-hian, please, I am deeply sorry about disturbing you like this. But I… I am struggling these days.” Wen Chao doesn’t interrupt, but he extends one hand across the small table to grip Wen Ning’s, which he subconsciously turns upward to hold.
At the warmth, Wen Ning’s time at the Phoenix Landing Pavilion as a child comes to the forefront, sitting in the lap of his sister and older cousins as they feed him, teach him how to walk, teach him values to live and die by. He should have reached out sooner. He takes another moment to collect himself, watching the shadows dance in the low firelight of his cousin’s ornate personal quarters. He takes a breath before he unfurls the defenses he built around himself, words choking out slowly but steadily.
“I keep dreaming about it, tong-hian. I keep seeing him – the other Wen Ning – the one who died, and lost nearly everything, and it suffocates me…” He weeps as he wipes his eyes with his free hand, and tears start falling freely in a way he had never really let them fall before. His cousin rubs a gentle thumb across the hand he’s holding, saying nothing but conveying gentle patience as he waits for Wen Ning to proceed.
“A-And, A-Ying and A-Zhan are thinking of marriage, but I feel like I can’t fully enjoy any of this because of the Ghost General’s past, I-I… feel like it is undeserved.” ‘How can I live when he suffered so?’ He whispers out the last part before turning away, unwilling to face the raw truth of what he’s been bearing for what feels like almost half his life now.
It’s a testament to Wen Ning’s inner turmoil that he does not notice his cousin stepping around the table and appearing beside him, other hand cupping his face before bringing him into his arms. Wen Ning’s face, buried in Wen Chao’s sleep robes, breaks out into heaving sobs as Wen Chao begins to stroke through his long hair in familiar, lulling motions. In that low firelight, in those shadows, Wen Ning’s heart feels not only raw, but exposed.
It may have been an eternity or a moment before Wen Ning feels the tears slowly abate, and lets himself pull away gently from Wen Chao’s embrace.
“I don’t know what to do, Chao-tong-hian. He won’t leave my head. Those visions are haunting everything that I know. There is no escape, no matter where I am and who I am with.”
Wen Chao hugs him again before finally speaking, clearly affected. “Ning-tong-ti, I am sorry that you have struggled with this for so long, I know we spoke about it when you said the memories were occasional flashes, but I am sorry none of us reached out to you more about it.”
Wen Chao re-takes his former seat, something in his eyes flashes. “So you’ve now seen everything, then? The tragedy of that whole life?”
Wen Ning simply nods.
Wen Chao breaks into a sigh. “I know Wen Qing and I didn’t find anything physically when we examined you that first time, so that also means there is likely no easy answer to addressing this. Not even in the future where I come from is there a way to erase memories, even if you have those you’d rather forget.”
He drags a hand across his face, eyes always looking older than he presents. Wen Chao’s shoulders sink downwards, and it’s suddenly very easy for Wen Ning to see how his burdens shape him, too.
“I can’t get rid of it either, honestly. That whole other life that I lived, tong-ti.” This was why Wen Ning came to Wen Chao, as the only other one of them who was so far displaced, he admitted to feeling like an imposter in Wen skin.
Wen Chao flashes him a wry smile. “Granted, I think you had a far more difficult life than I did as Yi-Hua, it doesn’t change the fact that we see ghosts in them, experiences that may now never come to pass, but affect us anyway.”
Wen Ning felt his throat tighten and his eyes water again as he nodded. He knew there was no miracle solution to the looming shadows that dogged his every step, but there had to be something.
Wen Chao was also like him, and here he was, more than adequately managing a sect and getting married to someone who he loved and who loved him dearly in return.
So what was the secret?
“How do you deal with it, Chao-tong-hian?” His hand sought Wen Chao’s out this time. “...When it gets to be too much?” Wen Ning would not insult them both by pretending that it isn’t a painful thing, for it was this very cousin that taught him that true vulnerability and honesty between others comes at the cost of saving face.
For them two outsiders, sitting together past the midnight shichen and discussing things nobody else can understand, what face was there to save?
The silence was loaded, but not uncomfortable, as Wen Chao considered his response.
“Our situations are not exactly the same, tong-ti, but the way that I address it is… I have to live it. Face it, and acknowledge how I am changed by it.” His cousin frowns here, eyes downcast.
“We are probably some of the only people in the world who have the burden of living two lives… and while there’s a lot of pain, and lots of things I wish I could forget, it took me a really long time to understand that I would not be the person I am now without all of my experiences.” They both pause to take another sip of their jujube tea before Wen Chao speaks again.
“I grew up poor, Ning-tong-ti. While the poverty of the future is a bit different than what is experienced in this era, it is still poverty. I loved my family, but there were many dysfunctions that broke us down internally. I’ve suffered ostracism for my choices, and like Wen Qing, I was always worried about the health of a sibling and if I was doing enough to keep everyone and everything together.” Wen Chao’s voice breaks a bit, but he continues, steadfast.
“– But the thing is, Ning-ti, I would not be the kind of leader I needed to be for Qishan if I did not intimately understand the ways that our people struggle just to eat and have shelter. I could not give and receive love from anyone else if I didn’t know for myself the ways that conditional love hurt…” Wen Ning felt himself inhale a bit.
“... Pain is an inevitable part of any life, tong-ti. You and I… well, I suppose the payment for living two lives is double of everything, too.” Wen Chao laughs wetly and it’s such a ridiculous thing to laugh at that Wen Ning does, too.
Sometimes you laugh so hard that you sob and it circles all the way back around.
“People don’t ask for pain, Chao-tong-hian, but it doesn’t stop it from happening, does it?” Wen Chao pats his hand gently.
“Right, Ning-tong-ti. We can’t undo any of it, either. So, what else do we do but… live with it?”
Wen Ning feels warm right now. For once, the restless doesn’t burn under his skin with the urge to move, to respond to unseen dangers. He leans forward, placing his elbows onto his knees in a way that he knows Wen Qing would scold him for. By the secretive smile on Wen Chao’s face, he knows it, too.
“...What do you do when you feel as if you don’t belong here?” Wen Chao’s hand catches in his again.
“That definitely still happens for me… Usually I have to ask myself ‘why’ I feel like I don’t belong here. Sometimes, I feel really guilty for stealing Wen Chao’s life, or for living like this at all when I don’t know what happened to my family in my first life. But…” Wen Chao trails off, looking at something in the darkness that Wen Ning can’t see.
“Honestly… It doesn’t change the fact that I’m still here, anyway. In another reality, maybe I never came and things still happened exactly the way you and I saw them. It doesn’t take away the pain of that life, and it doesn’t take away the pain of this one, either.”
Wen Ning feels on the verge of a revelation just as Wen Chao breathes it out.
“Maybe I am selfish… But between you and me, this is the happiest I’ve ever been. If I was reborn into the same circumstances again, I think I would make the same decisions, even down to killing my father.” Wen Chao shrugs, appearing careless, but Wen Ning knows better.
“Spared us a lot of trouble, didn’t it?” He finishes with a quirk of his lips. Despite the darker topics and somber turning of the mood, Wen Ning’s lips quirk up in return.
“– I think,” He reaches for another sip of refreshing jujube, feeling suddenly dry. “– I think that you and I are creatures of the Burial Mounds in some ways, Chao-tong-hian.”
Wen Chao snorts inelegantly before drinking his own tea.
“There was a lot of anguish, tong-hian. I feel the hole he died with, it aches in my chest, and sometimes I look at A-Ying and A-Zhan and brace myself to jump in and fight, to defend against enemies that don’t exist. I keep looking for little A-Yuan, hoping that I see him and hoping that I don’t… I feel unsettled, and I feel like I cannot share an entire side of myself because… I secretly believe everyone would leave me if they saw what I could do and the things that live inside my head.”
His teeth find their way into his lip again.
“I am restless, there is a power inside that is familiar with death and violence, that expects pain and maybe even seeks it, but I do not know what to do with it all...” He trails off, and feels vaguely flustered about the messy trail of speech that clumsily tumbled out of him.
Wen Chao turns gentle eyes onto him, expression holding no fear and no pity.
“– A-Ning, everything you feel is valid, it is understandable why you feel this way. But… tong-ti, please don’t assume the worst of yourself.” All of Wen Ning’s slowly growing internal panic grinds to a halt.
“Let me ask you, A-Ning, when I stole every Yin Iron piece and successfully took over the sect, did you think that I was going to use it to go on a massacre and destroy all the –”
“– NO! Of course not, Chao-tong-hian is not the kind of person who would do such a thing!” Wen Ning interrupted hotly.
“– But I could though, could I not?” Wen Chao’s even voice cuts through. “I have the power to do so, right? Between Qishan’s cultivator forces, my own golden core, and the Yin Iron shards, right?”
Wen Ning forced himself past the indignation and really turned over Wen Chao’s words. “Yes, I suppose you could, tong-hian. But nobody who knows you believes that you would.”
Wen Chao’s answering smile is filled with a touch of gratitude and amusement. “So then… Why should it be different for you, then? You’re not going to suddenly punch any holes in Jin Zixuan now, are you?”
Something clicks in his mind at the thought, and he feels a bit sheepish with the disorienting change in perspective.
All the tension suddenly drained from Wen Ning, mirrored by physically and mentally sinking down onto his seat like he had wanted to for the past few years.
“No… Absolutely not.” He actually got along well with Sect Leader Jin when he first came to Qishan; found his company to be quite pleasant as a fellow nature lover. He put his hands together as he looked over at Wen Chao, feeling rather bashful and somewhat… hopeful. He still feels like his insides have been flipped out for the world to see, but for once… it’s also relieving instead of mortifying.
Wen Chao leans forward again. “It’s far from perfect, but the future does have an entire field of medicine dedicated to afflictions of the mind… there’s nothing that can cure what we have, unique as we are,” he smiles lopsidedly, “but, there are lots of techniques that can help people like us… manage it.”
He reaches for Wen Ning’s hand again. “You’ve already done something amazing by opening up about it. When I struggle, sometimes it is nice to talk to someone, usually it’s Huaisang.” He shrugs again almost too casually, but Wen Ning spots the bloom of red across his cheeks.
“There are other things you can try, too. Like writing something down when the thoughts are heavy, or pursuing another interest that can help you express those feelings. Other times though, you really need to face it more than anything. Have you thought about… potentially visiting some of the places the Ghost General went?” By the way that his cousin’s words crept out, Wen Ning could tell that this was something that Wen Chao had been trying out for himself, something which brought Wen Ning relief as he was beginning to realize the extent of camaraderie and support he really had in this.
“... I guess it would be interesting to visit the Burial Mounds. I’ve yet to go in this life.” Wen Ning’s eyebrows furrow. He wonders what he would feel like approaching the place where he was so intricately connected to life and death again… Maybe that’s another big piece to him that's as important as Dafan Mountain is.
Wen Chao squeezes, and Wen Ning idly registers that his hand is extra warm right now.
“... You don’t have to tell them anything that you don’t want, A-Ning, but I will say… Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are pretty resilient people, who love you. Wen Qing also may not understand your experience, but she will listen and support you in all the ways she can.” ‘She might also hit you if you don’t tell her, and hit me too for conspiring’ Wen Chao’s eyes seem to say. Suddenly, the hand in his tightens again, and he’s forced to look upwards to catch the fire in Wen Chao’s gaze.
“... But I will tell you right now, no matter what happens, you can always come talk to me about it.” Wen Chao’s lips twist into a bitter smile. “I am not the Yiling Patriarch, but like you said, we are both creatures of the Burial Mounds in our own ways, Ning-tong-ti.”
That’s right.
His cousin was reborn there, too. His cousin, who has killed his own clan members, tangled with the vengeful dead, and took the Burial Mounds onto himself.
And Wen Ning.
And Wen Ning… In both lives, he has always been driven by protecting others. He might have been the fearsome Ghost General in another life, but those who knew him understood that he only lashed out and used violence when the safety of those he loves were threatened. Even with cold, undead, and numb fingers, the Wens of the Burial Mounds never shied away from affectionate touches, requesting his help, and trusting him with the most fragile of them all… Wen Ning may also not have those same abilities in this life, but in some ways, he is far more equipped than he’s ever been to handle threats; for Wen Ning, every generation of cultivators since Wen Chao became Sect Leader knows who he is, because he likely trained them personally in a few capacities. Wen Ning’s mild manner belies a skill in yin cultivation that makes him Wen Chao’s forefront tracker, sensor, and field operative, and recently propelled him to the Commander of the Palace Guard, the youngest to do so in the history of the Scorching Sun Palace. He may be quiet about it, but he very much takes pride in the fact that he is one of the first to be trusted when things get catastrophic.
Wen Ning is not loud or showy, and in many cases, would still prefer to operate in the background of things and keep to himself with only a few others. This has been consistent for both versions of him.
And in both lives, it is still a mistake to underestimate him. Through his own merits, he has turned himself into a weapon with what is available to him; one that will unsheath like the gleaming starlight of Black Tiger should his family become threatened.
Perhaps his cousin is right. He should work on trusting himself more, for if these truths about him hold across different worlds, this means that he can trust that about himself, right?
(The Ghost General fights, and Wen Ning protects.)
He feels himself exhale, and lets the shroud of rattling chains and black, tattered cloth settle wholly around him. His vision sharpens, and multiple objects bump and merge together until there is just one, cohesive thing in front of him. He doesn’t know exactly what his cousin is perceiving, but Wen Chao meets his gaze head-on. There’s a glint of pride in Chao-tong-hian’s eyes as a dense breath of infused yin energy slowly filters out, letting the air in the room drop a bit in temperature.
It felt cooling; it felt freeing.
It almost reminds him of his favorite creek in Dafan Village, like those perfect moments when the sun began to sink below the horizon, and the forest grew darker and colder. Wen Ning thought the splash of cold water then made him feel the most alive.
Even with the phantom ache in his chest, he feels alive.
With quick motion, he drains the rest of his tea from the cup and stands up from his seat. His cousin stands up to meet him, and barely has any time to react before he’s being swept up in a hug by his tong-hian.
“Thank you, Chao-tong-hian. Thank you.”
It doesn’t fix anything, per se. Wen Chao and Wen Ning, they will likely always deal with the burdens of that second, overlapping set of memories. But, they have their loved ones, and they are not alone in dealing with it. Wen Ning is willing to make the most of it. The agony, the fear, and the bitter ends of the other life are tempered by sweetness in both, and hard-won lessons that make Wen Ning who he is right now, the potential to be the greatest sum of the whole. He is the Ghost General, but he is also far more than… And he hopes that he can live a really long and fruitful life this time to figure out exactly who he is.
“A-Ning is always welcome.” Wen Chao squeezes back with equal ferocity, before they break apart and Wen Ning heads for the door, feeling lighter than he has in years.
He turns back with a smile.
“... My sister is going to hit me.” He laughs.
“... She’ll probably hit me, too. You should tell her soon, tong-ti.” Wen Chao also laughs, even if he’s rubbing at his arm in nervousness.
Wen Ning pulls the door open before Wen Chao calls back one last time, turning to see a deviant grin on his face.
“Also, congratulations on your impending marriage, Ning-tong-ti.”
Wen Chao’s laughter rings out like bells as a blushing Wen Ning nearly slams the door shut, shouting out, a "Congratulations on yours, tong-hian!" which was nearly lost while scurrying down the hall with a different kind of nervous disposition, one that fills him with joy and hope alike.
There is a long road to walk ahead of him, but for once, it does not feel so daunting.
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“– So,” Wei Ying has that flirtatious grin on his face again, twirling his hair around his finger and scandalously short a few robes of propriety. Before he even begins speaking, Wen Ning turns to look at Lan Zhan, who’s raising an eyebrow at him and bracing himself for whatever their love (read: ridiculous man) would say next.
Wei Ying clears his throat to draw their attention back to him, a pout on his face but a teasing sparkle in his eye as he takes in their non-verbal communication.
“You know how our anniversary is coming up!” They both nod, with their more outgoing spouse happily chatting the ears off anybody who asks. “I asked ChaoChao if I can use his residence, you know, the one up near Yuling? And he approved it!”
He claps his hands together, and it’s difficult to not get absorbed into his genuine joy and excitement.
“That’s good!” Wen Ning responds happily. He does enjoy when their travels take him up around the north of Qishan, the air feels fresher out there.
“AND THAT’S NOT ALL!” A younger, twitchier Wen Ning and Lan Zhan would have jumped at the sudden exclamation, but they are proud to say that they’ve gotten really good at expecting it. A sunny smile breaks across Wei Ying’s beautiful face. “– Wen Chao also approved EXTRA time off! As long as I fortify the explosion-containment talisman!”
Wen Ning feels his eyes widen as Lan Zhan’s strong, steady voice rings out.
“Wei Ying, would that talisman be even necess-”
Lan Zhan hasn’t even finished speaking before Wei Ying suddenly rips off one of his bracers and rolls his sleeves up, where a very familiar bracelet sits daintily on his right wrist.
Wen Ning gasps.
“Is that – Did Chao-tong-hian lend you his?”
Lan Zhan sits up straighter than ever and casts them both a critical eye, and it feels like all three of them are collectively holding their breaths with the sudden tension. Wei Ying’s smile gains a softer edge to it, holding something vulnerable and sweet within.
“– It’s actually mine. I feel like I’m close to getting the human transformation… I-I know I haven’t done it yet, but Wen Chao and Wen Qing had a look, and they believe that I can soon, so we made this!”
Wen Ning feels like choking. He knows he’s thought about it. When Chao-tong-hian achieved the human transformation and went through his first pregnancy with Mei-Hua, Wen Ning felt more than an idle curiosity about the whole notion of parenthood for himself. But… he didn’t even realize that it grew into a longing to raise a child with love, alongside the loves-of-his-life until this moment. A-Yuan was still in their lives, and definitely will always be theirs in a special way… but now Wen Ning’s chest is pounding and he feels lightheaded with sheer want.
He and Lan Zhan stand almost at the same time, and they almost drunkenly fumble their way to each other, arms coming up in a close embrace.
“Wei Ying, this one would be honored to raise any children with you and A-Ning. Whatever you both want.” Lan Zhan’s voice rumbles out steadily, and Wen Ning feels himself melting at the loving promise.
“Me too, A-Ying. But are you sure you want to go using this route? We have other methods available, too, if you want! I know we would be happy to do anything as long as it was by your side.” A-Ning has absolutely no problems adopting, and will likely pursue this course of action in the future no matter the outcome… but choosing to channel constant, low-level yin to sustain a uterus and a developing fetus for almost ten months is a huge thing to ask of someone.
(It's terrifying to think about, actually. Wen Ning has the most respect for mothers everywhere.)
Wei Ying chuckles from beside them both, and Wen Ning is happy to know that his words did not offend him greatly.
“I had several very honest and horrifying conversations with both Wen Chao and Wen Qing to help guide my decision… but ultimately, I think I would regret it if I did not try it. Especially if I can actually do it.” Wei Ying ducks his head inwards, leaning in to press a kiss under Lan Zhan’s jaw and another to Wen Ning’s.
“You know that Wen Xu, Wen Qing, and Wen Chao raised us better than to believe that malarkey about what ‘real men’ and ‘real women’ should do, so it’s not like I would suddenly become less of what I am if I choose to carry a child inside my womb.” They feel Wei Ying shrug, in a mirror of the habit he picked up from Chao-tong-hian.
“... And also, I told you both years ago that Wen Chao was kind of another mother to me, anyway. If anything, I feel empowered to do this because they were really great with us, and then Wen Chao went on to actually birth his own kids with A-Sang, and our precious A-Hua and A-Tian are growing up so well, too!”
Wei Ying’s eyes are sparkling, and although Wen Chao can see his nerves about this apparent in the jerky way that he’s moving, there’s no denying the real excitement, either.
“And who else would it be with, besides you? I love you both so much, I want to carry that love inside of me!”
Even though there’s no one else around them, being in the gardens of their private residence, he feels himself wanting to combust.
Lan Zhan reacts first, his tall frame leaning over both of them and kissing them breathless. He uses the least amount of words between them all, but it’s never any less effective.
All three of them are red and panting by the time he’s finished.
“A-Ying, I love you, too. Lan Zhan, I love you. I always will, and I would be excited to raise as many kids as we want together.” Lan Zhan nods sagely as Wei Ying laughs brightly.
“... But truthfully, I think I could also probably carry a child in the future, too. And I would want to, if I could.” Wen Ning blushes under the sudden scrutiny of both his spouses, who gaze at him with nothing but surprised wonder and adoration.
The smell of fresh flowers hits him as Wei Ying throws himself bodily at Wen Ning, who catches him without hesitation. He breathes him in and feels a wave of emotion overcome him. Lan Zhan moves slowly, but no less warmly as he envelopes them both in his arms, followed by the scent of his clean linens and sandalwood. Buried in their heads and shoulders as he is, he feels like he’s swimming in them.
“– Then we will try it.” Lan Zhan punctuates his quiet words with a kiss to Wen Ning’s hair.
“Yes! We’ll get me pregnant, and then we’ll get Wen Ning pregnant!” Wei Ying’s laugh rings out high and clear over their embarrassed exclamations, and Wen Ning knows that he wouldn’t change anything about this moment and who he’s sharing it with, even if he kind of wants to curl into himself with squirming embarrassment.
Wen Ning still wakes up with nightmares, his body still aches and twitches from the memories of the other Wen Ning… But this Wen Ning is now thirty-one years old and he has already subverted many of the expectations he had for himself, first and foremost living past his teen years. And through all of this, he is still finding many more things he wants to experience and things to keep living for. As he gazes into the warm, expressive eyes of his spouses, he can only think of how he would walk this path again forever if it brought him here.
He takes both A-Ying’s and A-Zhan’s hands, gripping them tightly and letting the happiest, teariest smile since their marriage ceremony cross his face.
“I love you both, let’s see where this can take us, okay?”
The answering smiles and kisses were perfect, and Wen Ning, the brother, the cousin, friend, Ghost General, Commander, uncle, husband, and soon-to-be-parent… walks towards the sunny future, arm-in-arm with those he loves.