Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian was bored. Bored bored bored bored bored! He was so bored that he might have to visit the Healing Pavillion after this lecture was finally over, so that he could inform them that he had successfully proven that it was definitely impossible to die of boredom. They would surely be delighted at his contribution to the field of medicine - the fact that it had come from his own pain would just make it better for them - healers loved learning things from other people's pain!
Though they might be disappointed at not getting to poke needles in him.
Actually, that disappointment might be acute enough that they might jab needles into him for the hell of it...
Better keep this valuable knowledge to himself.
He sighed and made an (admittedly half-hearted) effort to focus on what Lan Qiren was saying, but his brain refused to focus on it, and it just became a droning noise akin to the buzzing of a bee. Just without the chance of getting your hands on some honey if you followed it.
More likely he'd get himself more copying punishments. Though that would mean spending time in the company of Lan Zhan. Which was even better than honey!
He looked over at the other boy, wondering if he could tease him a little to pass some time. He'd avoided it today, as his first attempts had been met with more anger than usual.
(Was Lan Zhan alright? Had he been assigned night patrol duties too many rights in a row, and was therefore suffering from a lack of sleep? Was he going to have to find who was responsible and... and... well he didn't know what he'd do to them, but he'd think up something awful!)
Normally he loved seeing how far he could push the Second Jade, but if Lan Zhan really snapped, and did so in class, he might get in trouble!
Although... maybe it'd be good for him to get in a little trouble... Surely it hurt to be this restrained all the time?
His thoughts about helping his friend become a more well-rounded person (while also trying to come up with a suitably horrible prank to play on whoever was in charge of the Cloud Recesses patrol rota) crashed to a halt when he saw that Lan Zhan was looking at him. For a moment he was unable to think of anything, then Lan Zhan looked away.
He must have noticed Wei Wuxian's lack of attention. He made a valiant effort to focus on the lecture once more, but Lan-xiansheng's words seemed to bounce of his skull.
He found himself staring at a calligraphy scroll at the front of the room, so it would at least appear like he was paying attention.
It was new. Or at least, a new addition to the classroom (the age of the scroll itself wasn't clear, but Lan Qiren had told them that it was given to him as a gift by the family of an old friend of his who had recently died, and while none of them knew the provenance of the scroll, it presumably wasn't new). Nie Huaisang had admired it when they'd entered the classroom, praising the elegance of the lettering, and the beauty of the decorative swirls the artist had added around the characters. An unusual touch for a calligraphy scroll, especially in the Cloud Recesses, with the Lans’ dislike of excess and frivolity, but he agreed with Nie-xiong that it worked well.
"Learning is preparation for a life yet to come," said the text. He wasn't sure what sort of life this class was meant to be preparing him for. Apparently a very very dull one.
His eyes glazed over once more as Lan-xiansheng's voice droned on and on and on, and in an attempt to focus on something, he stared at the swirling designs, mind trying to conjure shapes and pictures out of them.
He gave a start when he realised some of those patterns he was seeing were not solely in his mind...
This did not go unnoticed.
"Wei Wuxian!" Lan Qiren snapped. "If you're not going to pay proper attention, then at least refrain from distracting others!"
“Ah! I’m sorry, Lan-xiansheng! It’s just that I noticed that painting contains some talismanic symbols.”
“Nonsense!” the old man huffed. “Do you not think I would have spotted something like that, if that were the case! Those strokes are merely decorative! A somewhat frivolous choice by the artist, admittedly, but-”
“I’m telling the truth, Xiansheng!” Oops! He’d broken the rule against interruption. Oh well. Add that to the list of infractions he was being punished for. “I’ve definitely seen those designs before, I swear! Though I think the scroll was pretty obscure. I found it in the Jiang Sect library.”
He looked over at Jiang Cheng. “You know it, right?”
He got a glare in return. “Wei Wuxian! Stop making a scene!”
Yeah, he didn’t know what he’d expected there. Jiang Cheng preferred action to academics. It wasn’t as if he was an illiterate fool – he did well in his lessons and his calligraphy was excellent, as expected of an heir to one of the great sects – but he wasn’t the sort to dig through a library for the sheer thrill of research when he could be spending time training with Sandu. There was no way he’d be able to confirm the scroll’s existence.
“Hmph! Yet again you interrupt a lesson with wild theories. You are nothing but a disruptive influence, and don’t know the value of an education.”
As if to emphasise his point, he smacked his hand against the painting. He must have infused his hand with qi, as there was a flash when he tapped the paper, and the totally-not-talismanic-symbols glowed. Most of the class instinctively ducked, but nothing happened, and nothing seemed different when they looked up.
Shoulders relaxed, and subtle sighs of relief were breathed.
And then a voice came from the front of the room, by Lan Qiren’s desk.
“Ah! Lan Zhan! I can’t believe I’m about to start teaching!”
Huh? Who was this calling Lan Zhan so familiarly?
“Wei Ying has earned the right.”
That was him? Did he really sound like that? He knew your own voice was supposed to sound different to others than it did to you, because one time he’d eavesdropped on a group of Jin disciples who were discussing their sect’s messenger butterflies, hoping to learn how they were made, and all of them had complained about how their voices sounded while insisting the others’ voices were accurately represented. But come on! His voice was deeper than that! Wasn’t it?
(Lan Zhan’s voice sounded perfect, of course!)
“Aiya! There’s still so much to catch up on though! Most of the advances in talismans and arrays in recent years are from people stealing my inventions, but not all of them. I missed out on so much while I was dead for 13 years!”
Wait, WHAT? There was no way he’d heard that correctly, right?
“Wei Ying has made great strides in catching up, and is already expanding on some of the theories proposed during that time.” There was a long pause, and then Future Lan Zhan added, “It is, perhaps, not knowledge of cultivation theory that concerns him.”
A dry chuckle. “Ah, my Lan Zhan knows me too well.” He stopped for a moment, and Wei Wuxian could just picture the wry smile twisting his mouth. “It’s just… weird to think of all the time that I’ve missed. Things that even I, with my poor memory, remember clearly, while they are long past for everyone else. Things like the Wen indoctrination, the attacks on Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, giving away my golden core to Jiang Cheng, being thrown into the Burial Mounds, the war and the fall of the Wen sect, Shijie and the Peacock dying…”
There were exclamations and movements that were probably people reacting to all this, but it seemed to be coming from far away.
(Also why did it sound like getting thrown into the gods-damned Burial Mounds were an entirely separate thing from him dying?!? And how did being dead end up a temporary state??? And did he say Shijie died?!)
“Wei Ying.” Something about the way that Lan Zhan said that made Wei Wuxian think that he was trying to convey more than simply his name. But what it could be, he didn’t understand.
Whatever it was, it seemed to be something his future self had learned to interpret, as when he spoke again, it was with a more relaxed tone that Wei Wuxian did recognise; he had ideas that he wanted to pursue.
“Ah, maybe I’ll write to Huaisang, invite him for a visit. He’ll be able to fill me in on all sorts of interesting stuff that he shouldn’t possibly know about. Ah, though it might be best for him to stay in Caiyi, with the way things are between him and your brother? Hmm, maybe we can get them to talk things out while he’s here? He won’t like that, but he’ll probably come anyway. He’ll appreciate any sort of break from being Chief Cultivator.”
That squeak followed by a thud was definitely Huaisang.
“Of course, the most tragic gap in my knowledge is that I still haven’t learned all of the 1,000 extra rules Gusu Lan added while I was dead!”
More rules? What kind of hellish future was this?!?!
“Wei Ying never learned all the first 3,000 during his time here.”
“Hey!” There was a pause, and Wei Wuxian decided this must definitely be his voice, however weird it sounded, because he could picture the affronted pout he’d be wearing right now. “My husband is so mean!”
HUSBAND?!?
He wanted to glance over at the other boy to see what he thought of this. But he was frozen in place, only able to stare fixedly at the front of the room, even though there was nothing to see.
“Wei Ying likes it.”
He thought he heard the sound of a piece of wood snapping (a brush?), from the direction in which Lan Zhan was sitting. And then…
A gasp, and then a moan., followed by a breathless laugh.
There was the sound of movement, the rustling of fabric, the soft thud of something being placed on a desk, the rustle and clatter of paper and small objects falling off something and onto a floor.
Another moan.
“Ah! Lan Zhan! Are we really going to desecrate your uncle’s desk like this?” The voice was teasing, with something more beneath that Wei Wuxian couldn’t (wouldn’t!) identify.
“Mn.”
They. They couldn’t. They could not be doing what his ears were telling him they were doing.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! What if someone were to see us like – Ah! – like this, in such a compromising position! The esteemed Second Jade of Lan, and – Mmph! – and his husband, the Cloud Recesses new talisman instructor!”
“They will not.” The rustling noise of a talisman flying through the air past the students, in the direction of the door.
A gasp. The soft brush of skin against fabric. More breathless laughter.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, when we were both studying here, did you ever fantasise about bending me over your uncle’s desk and having your wicked way with me?”
“Mn.”
Wei Wuxian clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the undignified sound he made. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
“Ah, Lan-er-gege, yes, more! Just like th- Mmph!”
The moans intensified, and there was more rustling fabric.
The noises suddenly cut off, the sudden silence causing his ears to ring.
He looked up, and Lan Qiren was standing in front of the singed remains of the calligraphy scroll, hand still raised, and a strangled expression on his face that suggested the only reason he wasn’t shouting down the Cloud Recesses, rules be damned, was that his voice was stuck in his throat, constricted by the sheer amount of outrage running through him.
He turned to face the class, and met Wei Wuxian’s gaze, fury in his eyes.
Wei Wuxian staggered to his feet, and ran.