[♪♫♬]

[one_note]

[after Yi City and the second time Wei Wuxian gets Lan Wangji drunk, it takes about a day for them to reach the Garden of Annual blossoms. this curious incident takes place in the space of that day.

outside of appeasing the corpse pieces they've been collecting each night, it's not uncommon for Lan Wangji to take the time to practice on the guqin. he doesn't play entire songs, since he's not trying to interact with any spirits at the moment, but safely broken-up sections of Inquiry and Empathy (was Empathy always a musical technique? it is in this timeline, shut up) and the other songs he uses for battle hum through the walls of the rest stop they've paused at on the road.

it's partway through a passage of Empathy that there's a notable shriek of strings, and then silence; when Wei Wuxian goes to check, he'll find Lan Wangji half-collapsed over the instrument, his breathing harsh and a strange fluctuation of energy around him.

a qi deviation...? oh no.]

Comments

[weiyingdown]

[idly contemplating cooking the rabbit for dinner as he waves Lan Wangji over]

Lan Wangji, it's this way. By the cold springs.

[one_note]

[he nods and follows easily, once his eyesight's adjusted]

[weiyingdown]

[he finds an easier path up to his spot, one that involves less climbing--it would be difficult to climb anything while carrying a body, even for Lan Wangji. now that he knows where he's going, it doesn't take them long to reach it. he spreads his arms to gesture to the spot and looks to Lan Wangji for his approval]

How is it? Does this spot work?

[one_note]

[softly, already walking forward to lay the body respectfully underneath the tree]

Mn.

[some of the grief in the air changes, slow and gradual, settling into something more peaceful]

[weiyingdown]

[nodding, he takes a seat a little ways away and pulls out his battered little bamboo flute. it twirls around his fingers as he thinks of a song, and when he finally puts it to his lips he plays Rest]

[one_note]

[the notes of the guqin join his after the first stanza, Lan Wangji kneeling next to him.

the corpse is slowly fading out of existence, where it rests]

[weiyingdown]

[his playing falters once, briefly, when he sees the corpse fading. but if Lan Wangji keeps playing then so does he, not stopping again until the song is finished]

[one_note]

[the peace settles entirely over the Cloud Recesses as the corpse vanishes. it feels like being able to breathe again.]

[weiyingdown]

[he reaches over to tug at Lan Wangji's sleeve, only to abort the motion at the last second]

You can still mourn him, Lan Zhan.

[one_note]

[a soft, questioning noise]

[weiyingdown]

[running a hand through his hair with a sigh. putting words into expressing how to deal with grief and loss is not high on his list of "things to do for fun"]

Don't let it weigh you down, but there's nothing wrong with carrying it with you. That's all.

[one_note]

[looks at him, intent]

I have never stopped carrying grief.

[weiyingdown]

The mourning clothes suit you more than I thought.

[clears his throat. that was really intense, Lan Zhan]

Then, just keep being like that. I mean if you want to let it go then you should. But you seem to be doing fine with it, so, as long as you're fine, I'm sure it's okay!

[one_note]

Do you?

[weiyingdown]

Do I what?

[one_note]

Carry it.

[weiyingdown]

[blinks back his surprise, reflexively opening his mouth to lie out of his ass before recognizing that he should probably be honest here]

...Of course I do. But you shouldn't use me as an example.

[one_note]

Oh?

[there's a lot of weight in that syllable, somehow]

[weiyingdown]

I'm a bad example, remember? The prestigious Hanguang-Jun shouldn't be following my lead.

But it's also pointless to compare. It's something personal, isn't it?

[one_note]

[with a faint hint of irritation, very like the actual teenager he knew]

If you do not want to answer then say so.

[weiyingdown]

I didn't mean it like that! I was answering seriously.

[he sounds chagrined though, like he's been called out]

It's not like I think about it. Wouldn't thinking about it all of the time just be depressing?

[one_note]

[looks at the spot where the corpse lay, then down at the guqin in his lap]

...it is...part of me.

[weiyingdown]

[that is an uncomfortable thing to be told by someone who has been mourning you for many, many, many years]

You're not thinking about it all the time, are you? That's practically the definition of letting something weigh you down.

[one_note]

[moves his gaze up to the grey sky]

This part is...old. Life is distracting. But the heart remembers.

[weiyingdown]

[what a good little Lan Zhan. his itchy fingers can't help it--he reaches over to give him a pat on the head]

That's fine, that's fine. I'm sure if you think of them from time to time, they'll be happy with that.