Back To the Past

Chapter Twenty-two

Wei Wuxian spun the dagger lazily on his finger, though his gaze was fixed and far away. The memory replayed itself mercilessly, the blade cutting past him, striking true, burying into Wen Xu's chest.

It's the same dagger.

They had dragged Wen Xu's body out of the hall and hidden it where no one would stumble across it, at least not yet. No rumours had spread. Lan Wangji had insisted on staying in their room for the night, and though Jiang Cheng had scowled at the intrusion, he hadn't argued.

"Same?" Lan Wangji asked, his eyes never leaving the weapon.

Wei Wuxian nodded. "Yes. This exact dagger appeared when I found my flute. A corpse nearly attacked me, and this dagger was thrown to kill it first."

"Where is the other one?" Lan Wangji's voice was calm, but the faintest tightness edged his tone.

Jiang Cheng rose, his expression hard. He had been turning this thought over long before now. Who dares interfere? Who from Lotus Pier would act in shadows?

"Back in Yunmeng," Jiang Cheng said flatly. "Which means the one who threw it is also from my sect."

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Do you think... they travelled back, too?"

"It's possible," Jiang Cheng muttered, gaze sharpening. He looked directly at Wei Wuxian, his suspicion as sharp as the dagger itself. "But the real question is who. And their aim—" He flicked a look toward the blade still twirling between Wei Wuxian's fingers. "—their aim is terrifyingly precise."

Wei Wuxian smirked faintly, as if the thought of a hidden ally amused him. But beside him, Lan Wangji's grip tightened imperceptibly on his sleeve. His expression betrayed nothing, yet his stillness carried weight. Whoever this hidden hand was, their closeness to Wei Wuxian unsettled him. And were they only protecting Wei Wuxian, or were there ulterior motives?

"Do you think we know them? Wei Wuxian leaned back fully, trying to wrap himself in the faint sandalwood scent that was emitting from Lan Wangji. 

The next morning, each sect member started to head back. No one suspected Wen Xu's disappearance. Not yet, anyway. 

The mystery person whom Wei Wuxian decided to name 'Lotus Man' was still something they couldn't figure out. They decided not to worry so much, as the person was appearing to be a friend rather than a foe. 

At least... for now.

"Jiang Cheng, keep the dagger with the other one. Our Lotus Man might come looking, so hide them well."

"Stop saying Lotus Man. It's stupid."

Wei Wuxian gasped, clutching his chest in mock offence. "How dare you insult the majestic title I have bestowed upon our mysterious saviour? Lotus Man is noble, elegant, refined—"

"Lotus Man sounds like a farmer who fell in a pond," Jiang Cheng snapped.

Wei Wuxian grinned wider. "No, it doesn't! Right, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji gave a subtle, almost unnoticed nod.

Wei Wuxian beamed, smug as ever. "See? Even Hanguang-jun approves. Lotus Man lives on."

                                                     ༺❀༻ 𓂃 ✧ 𓂃 ༺❀༻

"Lan Wangji, I get that you want to be close to Wei Wuxian," Jiang Cheng said, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, "but that doesn't mean you can ignore your own sect's responsibilities."

Wei Wuxian watched the two of them glaring at each other like cats ready to pounce. He sighed dramatically and gently let go of Yanli's arm. She gave him a knowing smile.

"Jiang Cheng, it's only for one day," Wei Wuxian drawled, leaning in with a mischievous grin. "Plus... he's my husband."

Jiang Cheng's ears turned red in a flash. He shoved Wei Wuxian away, scowling, while Wei Wuxian burst into laughter.

"Aww, don't worry," Wei Ying teased. "I'll find a worthy maiden for you."

"And what if I want a man, huh?" Jiang Cheng snapped without thinking—then froze, eyes widening as the words hung in the air.

The courtyard fell into stunned silence. Even the birds seemed to stop chirping.

Jiang Fengmian cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Why don't we head back. Your mother will be waiting for us."

He walked away with his hands clasped behind his back—tightly, like he was holding something in. Yanli turned immediately to her brother.

"A-Cheng... do you like men?" she asked softly.

"Chengcheng, you said that with so much confidence," Wei Wuxian teased with a wicked grin. "Do you have someone in mind~?"

"Shut up! I—I just said that by accident!" Jiang Cheng spluttered, cheeks flaming.

"Okay! JieJie, I'm gonna show Lan Zhan around. We'll be back for dinner!" Wei Wuxian chirped, grabbing Lan Wangji's hand and vanishing with him before Jiang Cheng could respond.

Yanli stared at her brother, concern etched on her face. "A-Cheng?"

"It's nothing, A-Jie," he muttered, looking away.

                                                  ༺❀༻ 𓂃 ✧ 𓂃 ༺❀༻

"They are back?"

"Yes, Madam Yu. Sect Leader, Young Master, and Young Lady have returned."

Madam Yu paused, her hand frozen mid-stroke as she brushed through her long, healthy locks.

"And what about that Wei Wuxian?" she asked, her lips curling into a grimace. "What about him? Did he not return with them?"

"He did, Madam. Young Master Wei is currently showing the Second Young Master Lan around the sect."

Madam Yu waved a hand in dismissal, her expression souring further as the maid bowed and exited.

She stared into the mirror, eyes narrowing.

"What trouble are you brewing now...?" she muttered.

                                                  ༺❀༻ 𓂃 ✧ 𓂃 ༺❀༻

"Mmm~ Lan Zhan... patience..." Wei Wuxian giggles. 

Wei Wuxian's breath hitches as Lan Zhan pulls him closer, pulling him flush against his chest, leaving no space. Lan Zhan's hands slide up his back, firm and deliberate as he dips his face further into Wei Ying's neck, placing soft kisses. The first few kisses were soft and feathery, but soon those kisses lingered, warm and hurried. His breath fans over Wei Wuxian's skin as he traces slow, teasing kisses along the line of his throat, each one sending a shiver racing through him. 

"Mn...waited too long" 

Wei Wuxian sighs as Lan Wangji continues his sweet assault on his neck, warm breath ghosting against his skin. He pulls back, hands coming up to cup Lan Zhan's face.

"Lan Zhan... I have been thinking..." He pauses.

He has been thinking about this a lot—though maybe thinking isn't the right word. It feels more like the thought has settled into him, a quiet ache that refuses to fade, a longing masked in silence.

Lan Zhan clasps his hand over Wei Ying's, a silent encouragement urging him to carry on without forcing him. His lips curve into a small yet visible smile.

"Tell me," he murmurs, voice low and fond. "What has Wei Ying been thinking?"

.
.
.
.

"Let's get married again."