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Lan Wangji remembers the day he met Wei Ying as if it was yesterday.
The snow was falling heavily. A blizzard storm was brewing, the cultivators said.
Yet on that day, there was no one to open her door.
Lan Wangji is five. And his mother is gone.
' muqin? Muqin! Please! A'zhan is sorry!'
'She can't be gone, because she's Muqin! And muqin is always there!'
'Where did muqin go? She can't leave him and Xiongzhang! They still need her and want her!'
Those questions were running through his little head and none of them could be answered, even with uncle and Xiongzhang right there.
'This one question, why won't they answer it? Has a'zhan done something wrong? Where is mother?'
Why did mother leave him and Xiongzhang? Did mother not love him and Xiongzhang anymore? Why won't she open her door? He must have done something very wrong!
He keeps asking, and asking, and asking.
"Where has muqin gone?" He would say.
And in retaliation, they would give him this… sad look on their faces and smile. Just a bit.
"Your muqin has… gone to a good place A'zhan" they reply.
'they're lying. lying. And lying is forbidden .'
Lan WangJi can't accept this. He can't. And he won't.
"muqin isn't gone." He would then say back. Because mother is not gone! She isn't!
And they… the cultivators. Uncle and Xiongzhang alike won't reply. They'll only give him this look .
(It looks like pity. Uncle and xiongzhang's look like sadness)
Mother was one of the things that gave him joy besides brother and uncle. One of the things in his life that was always a constant. An always there presence. Even with them only ever getting to visit her once a month. Because she was- is one of the people who would give him so much happiness and manage to make him break out in a smile.
She can't be gone, she can't.
Maybe, maybe mother's not gone, she's not gone she's just… she's just mad at him! Mad that he didn't get high enough grades on his last test! Mad that he forgot to clean that one stain after playing with Xiongzhang yesterday! Yes, that must be it.
( but he knew, Lan Wangji knew that he was wrong. His mother is gone and never coming back just like father- )
And so, determination set heavy in his veins, Lan Wangji walked through the snow and ice and arrived at the gentian house. Breath giving off a tiny puff as he rubbed his tiny against each other for warmth.
He stood in front of the Gentian house. Its door still closed tight and aura exuding a heavy feeling when usually it was so warm and comforting .
(Mother must be really mad at him.)
Then, he knocked on the door.
"Muqin?" He called out quietly.
No one answered.
Then he knocked again, harder.
"Muqin?" He called out again, now with a slightly raised voice.
The silence continued.
"Muqin please!" He tried pleading. But yet the door remained closed. The large frame seemed to taunt him as he stood there. Pounding on the door with his tiny (far too tiny) hands and pleading for his mother (gone. Gone far far away) to open it.
He continued to pound for many minutes more. Yet, yet. Mother still hasn't opened her door.
'Muqin .. a'zhan wants to see you again! Please don't leave a'zhan!'
Lan WangJi, coming to the conclusion that mother doesn't like him pounding on her door and being loud ( loud was not okay, loud was breaking the rules.) Ended up kneeling in front of it. Thinking that if he was quiet enough. If he was perfect enough . Maybe then. Mother will open her door. And Lan Wangji will be let in, and be given her hugs and small osmanthus cakes.
(Mother… mother will open that door. Mother is not gone)
'a'zhan misses muqin… muqin.. where are you? A'zhan misses you..'
Xiongzhang came to find him after that. But even after his brother had found him, how many hours had he been there kneeling? How many hours had he spent outside mothers door? Lan WangJi refused to go with Xiongzhang before mother opened her door.
"A'zhan… didi… muqin is- muqin is gone . gone far far away to a good place." his Xiongzhang tried reasoning with him.
But Lan Wangji has heard enough of that speech. Doesn't Xiongzhang know? Mother isn't gone! She's just very mad at them right now!
"No. Xiongzhang is wrong. Muqin is here. A'zhan will not move until Fuqin opens the door."
"A'zhan…" and there it was. Xiongzhang's sad sigh.
If he looked at Xiongzhang right now and saw his sad face, he won't be able to ever face him for the rest of his life.
So Lan Wangji didn't.
He kept his eyes shut tight, and his hands curling up into balls on his knees tighter. The snow gently falling and mounting on top of his head, shoulders, and arms.
(He's freezing cold. But he needs to see mother. He can't move before mother opens that door. He cant . Because this must be his punishment for breaking all those rules and disappointing mother and uncle)
His Xiongzhang, for a while, joined him after that. Kneeling right next to him. Arms folded gracefully, and back straight as he stared ahead the door. Presence less daunting as a person accompanied him now.
(Maybe Xiongzhang finally realized that together, we might just be able to get mother to forgive us! Or me.)
They kneeled. And waited, and waited, and waited. For mother to open her door and take him into her arms like she always would. Waiting for mother to give him that smile that only she would give to either him or A'huan.
( Just like the smiles someone he remembers vividly gives him. So warm and nice)
He liked those moments. He really, really liked them. Just like how he liked A'huans satisfied face when he's done a thing correctly, or how sometimes, uncle would smile softly and give them a pat on the head as a good job. Those moments were nice. And Lan Wangji cherished them all.
His Xiongzhang got up and stopped kneeling when it was nearing nine pm. At that point, the snow had covered almost every surface possible in thick amounts. And engulfing them in its cold.
Xiongzhang tried to make him budge again. "A'zhan… please, it's already nine. Let us go to bed, yes?," but what Xiongzhang doesn't know is that he can't move away . Not until mother opens her door and lets him in. "mn. No, Xiongzhang. A'zhan will stay."
Then, Xiongzhang looked at him one last time. Giving him a brief hug in lieu of a goodbye.
(No need for goodbyes, no one is going away.)
His steps echoes softly in the clearing of the Gentian house, sound getting quieter and quieter with each passing step. Until Lan Wangji could hear his Xiongzhang's footsteps no more. Too far away for hearing range.
He was alone, once again. But thats okay.
(As long as mother will open the door, anything is okay.)
Lan Wangji is cold, his fingertips are blue and his knees numb from kneeling for so many hours. Not having developed his cultivation high enough, the cold was stifling. After all, be was only five.
He wants to get up, wants go inside and snuggle up in his blanket with xiongzhang. Wants to sit by the fireplace and warm his fingers near them, watching the flames lick the firewood placed inside.
But mother hasn't opened the door.
Mother hasn't forgiven him yet.
'Why won't muqin forgive him?'
(Lan Wangji wants to cry, wants to bury his face into someone's robes and sob. But he's so cold and mother hasn't forgiven him yet so he can't. Mother hasn't opened up the door yet, so that means he hasn't repented enough)
And so while the snow falls gently on his black locks and small robes, Lan Wangji feels himself pass out. Not hearing the footsteps approaching him from behind his frozen body.
(Yet, even then. His mother's door was still closed shut.)
( “oh Lan Zhan…”)
--
When he awakes, he opens his eyes to find the warm room of the Jingshi. Fireplace on and sandalwood incense lit. His, and his mother’s favorite incense.
There’s osmanthus cookies by the side table, and he’s tucked into the soft, warm covers and blankets. For a moment Lan Wangji thinks that it's his brother who moved him here, momentarily softening at the thought of Lan Xichen going out of his way get him to safety, then recoils as he remembers that no, Xiong Zhang most likely won’t be awake at such a late time at night.
There's also no way his uncle moved him here too. Since uncle was away for a conference in Lanling and wouldn’t be back for the next week or so.
Yet at that moment, the door creaked open.
And In the next instance, Lan Wangji had his guard up and prepared for the worst.
“ Oh! You’re awake!” a cheery voice filled the quiet room.
Lan Wangji was… not expecting that.
Looking closer, Lan Wangji could see that something was… off, about the man that stood at his door.
For one thing, the man seemed like that of a noble. Maybe a high ranking cultivator? He wore red and black robes with gold laced on the hems. Embroidered landscapes of mountains and trees painted his lower robe and shoulders.
His hair was also held by a silver crown in the shape of a lotus, so that strengthened Lan Wangji’s feeling about him being someone that is- was of high power.
Lan Wangji admitted to himself that they were pretty.
The second thing was that he seemed transparent- not fully there in fact.
There was an almost light sheen to him. The shadows the candles cast passing through him.
(But in his hands were a cup of tea?)
Lan Wangji was understandably confused.
The man slid close the door with his (semi-transparent? How is that possible?) hands and asked, “How are you?” to him. Walking closer and setting the cup of steaming tea on the side table, then got a chair and sat there. Looking at him expectedly.
Lan Wangji was even more confused, yet also wary of the man- spirit?
Whatever he was, Lan Wangji wouldn’t be so quick to trust him.
For all he knew, the man spirit was there to kidnap and take him away.
(maybe, just like they did with mother)
The spirit- he seemed like a spirit so Lan Wangji will call it a spirit- looked at him in confusion when he didn’t answer. Then lit up like that of a candle, seeming to have come to a conclusion. “ Ah, you must be confused!” he said. “ You see, I found you on the front steps of that house you frequent every month-” at this Lan Wangji was confused, how did this spirit know? Has this spirit been spying on Lan Wangji? “ -and me, deciding to be the very nice ghost that I am~ moved you over to this place!” The ghost finished with a bright smile.
Lan Wangji’s mood dampened at the mention of the Gentian house.
He still had hope that his mother had not gone away, but with each passing moment and with each passing hour, that hope seemed to diminish little by little.
(where are you mother?)
He wanted to ask. Wanted to demand why the man- spirit. Was here. Wanted to scream at him for taking him away from the house, for taking him away from the only way he could have repented to his mother.
But he can’t.
“Who are you?” he said instead, with his eyes narrowed at the ghost in front of him. The man in question widening his eyes dramatically, fringe falling in front of his face.
“ Me?” he replied. “ Why, I'm just your normal, typical, non-resentful ghost of course!” he exclaimed. Once again, with that bright grin of his.
Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes even further and clenched his tiny hands in the sheets.
“Your name .”
The ghost titled his head and held a hand to his chin, stroking it in mock thinking.
“ Hmm.. my name? My name… Wei Ying!”
Lan Wangji furrowed his eyebrows. Wei Ying… the name seemed, awfully familiar. Yet Lan Wangji didn’t know why it was so familiar.
The man- Wei Ying- gestured at him with something akin to amusement at his confusion and said, “ aren’t you going to eat the cakes? I painstakingly snuck them in for you from the kitchen. Because Guanyin knows what anyone would think if they saw a floating plate of osmanthus cakes aha!”
“It's forbidden to steal in the cloud recesses,” he stated automatically.
“ Well… it's not necessarily stealing… but merely borrowing!”
Lan Wangji huffed out a sigh at what was being said from the man- ghost? Wei Ying? Whatever he was.
“ Speaking of which, as I have so generously given you my name gongzi-” and the ghost was teasing him. “ -would you mind telling me yours?”
Lan Wangji looked down at his sheets.
“...Lan Zhan, courtesy Wangji.”
“ Well, then its a pleasure to meet you Lan Zhan! Hope we can be good friends!”
The man- Wei Yings, grin was back.
Friend… Lan Wangji doesn’t appose to that.
(mother did always say he needed more friends)
--
After that first encounter, Wei Ying seemed to stick to him like glue. Acting as both his friend, and what seems to be his older brother.
Sometimes Wei Ying would see him do things and either scold him, or help him.
Admittedly, Lan Wangji was confused.
“ Lan Zhan, you can’t keep kneeling here!”
Like the times when he kneels in the snow in front of his mother’s house. Still having hope for her to come home. To him and A-huan and shufu.
“ Lan Zhan…”
Lan Wangji shook his head. “No. Muqin will come back. I know she will Wei Ying.”
Because he still had hope, and because Lan Wangji misses his mother.
He wants her back, so so much.
“ Oh Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying said. Tone laced in either disappointment, or pity.
Lan Wangji doesn’t know what's worse out of the two.
He heard Wei Ying’s footsteps come closer adn closer. Until the transparent sheen of his black boots lay in front of him, and he was kneeling too.
When Lan Wangji looked up, he saw Wei Ying having this… face.
(he looked sad, Lan Wangji admitted.)
Wei Yings hands were outstretched, pulling him in. And it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Wei Ying was hugging him until he was pulled taut against Wei Ying’s robes.
Lan Wangji froze.
(despite the robes trans[arent sheen, they seemed so corporal at that moment.)
Wei Ying was hugging him.
He was… he was hugging him .
Wei Ying is a ghost, a non living being, and was thus cold to the touch. But at that moment he seemed so warm.
(it felt just like mother’s hugs)
Lan Wangji felt tears prickle his eyes. He missed his mother so so much.
‘ I want muqin back…’
With a wistful smile, Wei Ying looked down at Lan Wangji adn stroked his hair.
(just like muqin)
“ It’s okay Lan Zhan… there's no one here to witness you breaking the rules. Your mother she… despite not being here, I'm sure she would have been very proud of you.”
And just like puppets on strings, Lan Wangji broke.
Tiny sobs wracked his body as he clutched the back of Wei Yings robes. Tears flowing freely and fading into oblivion.
Wei Ying kept stroking his back and hair soothingly.
Wei Ying was there. But mother was not .
Lan Wangji wanted his mother back.
‘ Why did you leave me, Muqin?’
--
Sometimes, Lan Wangji could see that wistful look Wei Ying gave him the first time he cried.
It was late at night, and Lan Wangji couldn’t sleep.
Usually, at this time of night, Wei Ying would sit on the chair beside his bed and watch over him. Or stay by the table and read some cultivation manuals or the books in the Jingshi.
Today, Wei Ying was by neither of those places.
Having done this for the past year and thus being used to Wei Yings ghostly presence watching over him, Lan Wangji isn’t used to this new change.
It was then he heard it.
The chilling notes of a dizi accompanied by a heartbreaking song.
Alarmed, Lan Wangji slid out of his bed and checked outside. Still in his inner robes without something as a hint of shame.
He walked as fast as his tiny legs could take him and headed to the source of the sound. Lan Wangji was surprised no one else- say a Lan disciple patrolling or even his brother and shufu- came running to see where the noise came from, as it was pretty loud in fact.
Lan Wangji followed the noise and was led to the back mountains of the cloud recesses in which a myriad of wild animals lay.
There, moonlight illuminating the spirit, was Wei Ying. His dizi echoing in the night air. And the song he played getting hauntingly sadder with each and every note.
Looking closer, Lan Wangji could see a forlorn, glazed look on Wei Ying’s eyes. Not unlike the times he would look at Lan Wangji and seem to see someone else, someone that was not Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji wonders what had happened to Wei Ying before he died at these times.
The same look was cast upon Wei Ying at this time. The animals surrounding the spirit laying there, listening to the sad song with much contempt and calmness.
At that moment, Wei Ying didn’t look like the cheery, happy, and carefree ghost that had been accompanying Lan Wangji the past year. But rather someone who’d lost something- or maybe someone.
(just like he had with mother)
When he finished his song, Wei Ying lowered his dizi. His shoulders were slumped, his head was lowered, and his gaze was blank. As if reminiscing something in his past.
The silver crown he was wearing- despite still being as transparent as ever, seemed to reflect itself in the moonlight.
Then, from behind the tree he was hiding behind he saw it, the lone tear that Wei Ying shed falling onto the ground.
It was at that moment that Lan Wangji decided that this, this scene that he was watching. Was much too personal for him to watch. So as quickly as he arrived, he fled back to the Jingshi.
Yet Lan Wangji failed to realize that if he just stayed just a moment longer, he would hear the words that Wei Ying uttered.
“Lan Zhan, i miss you so much.”
--
A man stood in front of the guqin, hands laying on it carefully, methodically, as he finished the song he played.
Wei Ying smiled softly at him. “That song was nice Lan Zhan, what’s its name?”
The man- Lan Zhan , looked up from his guqin and returned Wei Ying’s smile. An equally soft look in his eyes.
“Wangxian.”