Lan Qiren returned to the Lan sect with his nephews in tow.
This was not as easy as it had initially seemed when it was being discussed in Wen Ruohan’s study, despite the lack of any serious obstacles in their path. Perhaps most relevantly, Wen Xu, Wen Chao, and even Wen Ning were utterly inconsolable about Lan Qiren’s impending departure, each one of them frantic and anxious even though Lan Qiren assured them repeatedly that he had obtained Wen Ruohan’s solemn promise to get them proper teachers, prevent any interference by third parties such as their mothers, and even to supervise their education personally whenever possible – he’d thought the last would be sufficient, given how much they idolized their father and guardian, but apparently not.
Even his nephews seemed put out about the idea of leaving their newfound friends behind.
Lan Qiren was not entirely sure, afterwards, if they had ever figured out that the circumstances surrounding their presence the Nightless City had not been wholly above-board, and if, assuming they had figured that out, whether they thought he had handled things correctly. Lan Wangji kept his own thoughts private, as he so often did, while Lan Xichen seemed more invested in the fact that Lan Qiren liked Wen Ruohan – or, well, he’d been very supportive of it once he’d figured out that Lan Qiren was quite serious about not leaving him and Wangji, which significantly reduced his anxiety on the subject. Unfortunately, their return back to the Cloud Recesses apparently served to make him realize that Lan Qiren staying with them for good meant that he and Wen Ruohan weren’t going to continue their courting with the aim of marriage, causing him significant emotional distress no matter how many times Lan Qiren had assured him that they would still be visiting each other. He’d taken to reading novels, writing sad poetry, and sighing at odd intervals, which…Lan Qiren had no idea what to do with, in all honesty.
He’d asked Lan Yueheng for assistance, as the person he trusted most about matters of romance on account of the latter’s successful marriage, and Lan Yueheng had just nodded wisely. He’d then swept Lan Xichen away for an evening of drinking fruit juice and solemn moon-watching which was, apparently, just the thing to relieve his nephew’s melancholy.
Lan Qiren would never understand it. Not in a million years.
Of course, Lan Yueheng also used the opportunity to leave his wife behind with Lan Qiren to express at great length and volume how they had felt about Lan Qiren’s mysterious disappearance, interrupted only by the arrival of extremely vague and unhelpful notes that appeared without any return address whatsoever. Given Zhang Xin’s lung capacity and hardy constitution, not diminished in the slightest and even apparently improved by having borne several children, Lan Qiren was pretty sure he got the worse end of that deal.
Oh, the things he did for his nephews…
At any rate, it was good to see Lan Yueheng and Zhang Xin again, despite the yelling and, in Lan Yueheng’s case, teary-eyed sentimentality and profound relief that he was back unharmed. Even beyond them, Lan Qiren found that there were quite a number of Lan sect disciples that had, entirely without him noticing, made their way into what one might (if one were Wen Ruohan and prone to high drama) dub his inner circle, and what Lan Qiren would probably more appropriately term colleagues. In other words, people with whom Lan Qiren was actually friendly and had even subconsciously missed seeing them on a regular basis; they, in turn, seemed to have missed him for more than just his contributions to the sect. It was a very pleasant surprise to find himself among those who seemed genuinely pleased to see him, and that he himself was genuinely pleased to see.
Sadly, the same could not be said for a considerable portion of the elders of the previous generation.
This was not all of them, luckily enough. There were plenty of men and women in the Lan sect who were as they ought to be, upright and upstanding, careful and thoughtful in following the rules and in applying them to others; people that sought righteousness in all things and listened to the rules that exhorted them to Shoulder the weight of moralityandTake the straight path.
Not everyone, though.
The rot had originated from only a few, but once there was rot, it spread.
Refreshed from his time without work, Lan Qiren set himself to fixing it at once.
Some of the offenders were only doing what they had seen others do before them, generally those of Lan Qiren’s generation or those that had come of age after him. Those were generally easy to correct – after some education, they were by and large horrified at the notion that they had erred so badly and closed their eyes to justice within their own home, or at least they had the good sense to pretend to be; their punishments could be relatively light and focused primarily on contemplation and reacquaintance with the rules. Their sin had been to trust the actions of their elders without applying critical thought, and while that did not relieve them of the weight what they had done, especially those actions that had harmed others in the process, it was still a lesser degree, less grave than those who had set them off on their crooked road in the first place.
As for those instigators…
Lan Qiren had known it would be hard to deal with them. He had known it would be hard, and it was, dreadfully hard, even when he utilized everything he knew and threw the full weight of his authority at them in force, denouncing their actions with all the fervor he possessed. He even had support, being backed in full by the exhausted-looking cousin of his that had been shoved forward to take Lan Qiren’s place during the ‘illness’ that had purportedly kept him from returning home.
Poor Lan Tianqi might once, in some past nightmare, have longed for the position of sect leader; he was a relatively close cousin from a recent secondary line and older than Lan Qiren to boot – his great-uncle’s eldest grandson. Apparently, he had done a complete about-face on the subject after he’d had to endure the trials and travails involved with the actual work of being sect leader, especially when the sect, accustomed to Lan Qiren’s diligence, had tried to demand that he meet the same standard.
He’d apparently been drowning.
Drowning, and doing badly, too, faring far worse than Lan Qiren, who had the unusual ability to stay completely focused on a single project for half a day or more without issue, often forgetting even to stop to eat or drink. In the end, he’d gone to Lan Yueheng to beg for advice, thinking perhaps that Lan Qiren was close to him for a reason or maybe had confided some secrets on how to survive to him. Lan Yueheng naturally had no secrets, as anyone who had met him for more than a moment would know, but he was always obliging and willing to help those who asked – as Lan Qiren had foolishly not done, due to his own feelings of guilt and inferiority, his need to prove himself worthy of the sect that had been left to him by tragic accident through his own self-sacrifice.
After wracking his brain for some time, Lan Yueheng had come up with the idea of putting Lan Tianqi in touch with his first cousin, Lan Ganhui, who despite being best known for his garrulous charm, easy-going nature, and general popularity, was in fact a skilled and able secretary in his own right when he put his mind to it; it turned out that he was the one that usually stepped up and helped manage things in the event of an emergency whenever one arose during the rare occasions when Lan Qiren was gone out on sect business and could not be urgently summoned back, such as during the discussion conferences. Lan Ganhui, in turn, had enlisted his husband Li Zhenquan and his sister-in-law Li Zhouxi, who had come to the Cloud Recesses with her brother, a solid determination never to marry, and an exceptional hand at calligraphy, and between the four of them and some sleepless nights they had just about managed to cover Lan Qiren’s job.
Lan Qiren had immediately recruited them all as his own secretaries upon his return. Some were easier to convince than others – Lan Tianqi had been pleased at the idea of having influence on sect affairs without having to bear the entire weight of the sect on his shoulders, while Li Zhenquan was delighted to finally find a place where he could be of service to the family he’d married into. Lan Ganhui had initially declared that he would rather perish than do a job like this every day, being as he was a dramatic sort of person, but Lan Qiren had convinced him that a part-time position would not make too much of a dent in his active social life and would furthermore give him a chance to steal precious private time during the day with his husband. Lan Ganhui, in turn, had managed to convince the hitherto most resistant (and yet by far the most precious of the whole set) Li Zhouxi to agree to the job as well.
(Lan Qiren had made the mistake of inquiring as to how he had done so, followed almost immediately by considerable regret as he was cheerfully informed that a desire not to marry said nothing about not having desire at all, and also that having a position of power made a person more attractive towards the certain type of person that happened to be just Li Zhouxi’s type. Apparently the lady had ambitions of a harem of her own, filled with attractive and empty-headed young men – Lan Ganhui had used the word ‘stable’, which was another concept that he also decided, despite absolutely no interest on Lan Qiren’s part, to explain to him at length without stopping. Lan Qiren could understand that his cousin was good-naturedly getting his own back at him for some of the more boring lectures Lan Qiren had subjected him to in their youth, which he didn’t mind, but he did find himself wondering throughout the entire discussion why people who enjoyed sex were likethat. How did it not make things incredibly awkward all the time?)
Still, even with all of them sharing the weight of the sect between them and there being enough time for Lan Qiren to attack the problem of corruption and selfishness within his sect head-on, it wasn’t easy. He was still bound to respect his elders, and many of them had set down strong roots, with plenty of people inclined to take their side in an argument or to minimize what had happened even when the evidence was irrefutable. Lan Qiren resigned himself to a long slog, knowing that change would undoubtedly be incremental and slow – but at least he would be setting the right example for the next generation, showing them what it really meant to be a Lan.
He would strangle those rotten roots where they lay and turn them into fodder for better growth, even if it took him years to accomplish. It was what his sect deserved – his sect, his rules, and his nephews.
Unlike before, however, Lan Qiren was far more alert to the possibility that he was overworking himself. He had thought, with the arrogance of youth, that he had been doing fine in the days before; if he had been tired, that was only the lack of sleep he consistently failed to get, and if he had never stopped working, well, that was only what the position and his sect required of him, penance for some sin in his past life that he now had to repent of.
Now, though, he knew that the rules were right in prioritizing care for the self. He was not doing his best for the sect when he was too tired to think properly, and rest and relaxation was necessary rejuvenation for his mind to be at the peak he needed it to be. He made sure to take the time for his music, his training, his teaching, and even reading purely for pleasure rather than for work – he’d always enjoyed esoteric texts, especially those imported from foreign locales, and he thought he could quite proudly say that his Lan sect, however smaller than the Wen sect and less wealthy than the Jin, could still teach its peers a thing or two about collecting interesting books. His schedule wasn’t as free as it had been in the Nightless City, but that was a trade he gladly made in exchange for being once more at home.
As for Wen Ruohan…
Surprisingly, Lan Qiren hadn’t heard much from him. This was not especially unexpected, at least at first, since they had both known that Lan Qiren would be busy dealing with his sect and Wen Ruohan dealing with quashing any criticism once the kidnapping had become public knowledge – they had both agreed that it made sense not to do anything too overt in terms of their relationship for the first few months. Well, Lan Qiren had insisted, and Wen Ruohan had reluctantly agreed after some considerably pressure was applied, which amounted to the same thing.
He’d sulked rather dramatically about it, which had led Lan Qiren to, perhaps unwisely, permit himself to be talked into allowing certain liberties on the night before he’d left the Nightless City. He was perfectly aware that he was setting a poor precedent for the future, but Lan hearts were not exactly susceptible to reason. It had been an interesting experience, he supposed – he still did not intrinsically see the appeal, and suspected he never would, but it was hardly the first time Lan Qiren had willingly suffered some minor discomfort for the purpose of pleasing someone else. It didn’t even involve any particular aches and pains, and Wen Ruohan had been so verypleased by it; the entire experience was enjoyable purely for his enthusiasm and for the fact that it had rather effectively shut him up, which was worth it in and of itself. For all of Lan Qiren’s concerns, it turned out that Lan sect discipline was far harsher by comparison, with less immediate rewards, and Lan Qiren went away with the conviction that anything further they did would be no more difficult to bear – excluding perhaps Wen Ruohan’s avid interest in eventually being involved in matters of discipline, anyway.
It…was a little disturbing to be met with silence after something like that, if truth be told.
Wen Ruohan had only agreed to cease all talk of courtship for a few months, and yet that time had long since passed that point, with no mention of the subject, or indeed any word at all. Lan Qiren had braced himself, expecting that Wen Ruohan would bring up the subject as soon as the deadline passed, trying once more to invent some means by which a bird and a fish could live together despite Lan Qiren’s insistence that he would not leave the Cloud Recesses for anything, even love.
Instead, there was silence.
The silence was unusual, and unnerving, but Lan Qiren was quite certain that Wen Ruohan’s affections were not so shallow as to be satisfied by mere physical trifles – he was no Jin Guangshan – and so he had to assume that the cause was something else.
Presumably the matter of the mastermind.
They did eventually end up exchanging a few letters, but they were stilted things, rigid and formal, and said nothing of substance. They’d already observed that the mastermind had sufficient influence to interfere with the post with the Nightless City, and neither was inclined to let whoever it was see their personal correspondence. Wen Ruohan layered his letters with implications and allusions, complex enough that Lan Qiren had shamefully had no choice but to ask for assistance in deciphering the ones he didn’t understand, only to have them turn out to be sexual inneundo – Zhang Xin had nearly burst a gut laughing at him. In return, Lan Qiren’s responses were painfully straightforward, as dry as when he was writing to any other sect leader in the normal course of events; he simply didn’t know any other way. It was a good thing, he thought, that Wen Ruohan would not expect him to engage in any sort of erotic correspondence – that was far more Lao Nie’s style than his own.
And that was another thing Lan Qiren needed to consider.
He hadn’t had time to think it over while in the Nightless City, and by now he’d had almost toomuch time to think it over: his beloved was another person’s lover, and even after a great deal of consideration he had no idea how he felt about that. Family tradition dictated that Lan Qiren ought to be possessive of his lover, jealous of their time and attention well beyond the point of reason – and yet, perhaps it was having suffered so much from his brother’s similar madness, but the mere thought made Lan Qiren recoil, left cold and repulsed by the idea of demanding that anyone isolate themselves like that simply because of his feelings.
Or perhaps, instead, it was simply the knowledge that he had that Lao Nie was no true rival of his. The thought of Wen Ruohan ever being besotted by another was enough to make Lan Qiren’s temper flare up, but Lao Nie himself had confirmed that he would not give his heart away in this life, nor willingly claim anyone else’s for his own, and the idea that Lan Qiren might have Wen Ruohan’s heart all to himself satisfied all the possessive instincts he might have had. He had even spent some time wondering whether, when Lao Nie’s prohibition had been lifted by his sect, they might reach some form of…he really didn’t want to call it an agreement, but he couldn’t think of a better way to put it. It did make him feel a little as if he and Lao Nie were Wen Ruohan’s wives scheduling matters of the harem to equitably divide the days between them, and that was without even accounting for Wen Ruohan’s actualwives…
It was, in sum total, a bit of a mess.
Especially since Wen Ruohan himself, who was rather critical to figuring this out, was currently making himself scarce.
Irritating, irritating man.
Which made it, of course, doubly irritating when Lan Qiren found a letter from him mixed in with the other applications for students for his lectures during the summer – Wen Xu had been put forward as a candidate, and Wen Ruohan had added a casual postscript noting that “on account of the friendship that had been formed between my younger son and your younger nephew,” he would be sending Wen Chao as well to be enrolled in the junior classes alongside Lan Wangji, even though those were primarily taught by another teacher. None of this, of course, had been mentioned in any of the personal letters Lan Qiren had received, a subject he noted with some irritation in his own personal letter sent back the next day.
Wen Ruohan, in what Lan Qiren was starting to suspect was deliberate provocation, did not respond.
At all.
There were no letters that arrived from the Nightless City from him, none at all. Not even one that ignored the issue!
Lan Qiren ground his teeth together and thought to himself two things: first, that he understood how Wen Ruohan had managed to get so worked up when he’d thought Lao Nie was deliberately ignoring him and, second, that Wen Ruohan seemed to have developed a penchant for making him angry.
Irritating,irritatingman!
Lan Qiren comforted himself with the fact that Wen Ruohan was almost certain to accompany his sons to the Cloud Recesses to drop them off for classes – even though most parents generally sent their children with only an escort, especially from larger sects, it seemed implausible to him that Wen Ruohan would willingly give up an opportunity to meet in person, even if his absence would in fact succeed in his (apparent) secondary goal of inciting Lan Qiren into a fury.
So reassured, he settled down to focus on his work.
Unfortunately, despite both men agreeing to focus on the subject at hand, that was as far as they were able to get.
They knew that the perpetrator had to be someone who knew of Wen Ruohan’s past so as to be able to target him so particularly, but there were no obvious suspects, despite Lao Nie’s increasingly absurd suggestions –
(“Herlover?” Wen Ruohan asked blankly. “The one I briefly banished her over? I have not the slightest idea what happened to him. I don’t even remember his name or what it was he did that was so obnoxious, much less how he turned out.”
“Oh, that’s even better! That means he could be hiding away somewhere, secretly plotting, raising children sworn to vengeance –“
“Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren hissed. “This is Wen Ruohan’s life, not a storyteller’s tale. Stop looking for twists!”
“But it’s fun!”
“He’s already paranoid enough! He doesn’t need you to help!”
“But Qiren, I so pride myself on being helpful – hey! Don’t throw books at me! What if that one was something Hanhan needed? Wouldn’t you feel bad?”
“Qiren, I really don’t know why you were objecting so strenuously to being spoken about as if you weren’t there,” Wen Ruohan drawled. “This is hilarious.”)
Moreover, as Wen Ruohan himself admitted, even with the taboo he had imposed, it wouldn’t be too difficult for someone else to figure out the details if they wished: there were plenty both within and without the Wen sect who were old enough to remember what happened, and yet more who might have heard stories from their elders. Based on the style of the attacks and the location thereof, whoever was masterminding it had to either be in the Wen sect or else have allies within the Wen sect – but who could it be?
The Nightless City was too large, the Wen sect too avid a recruiter, to be able to separate out the good from the bad with great ease. Servants and disciples had free range over much of the Sun Palace. Even if they restricted the places where Lan Qiren and his students would be, that would only serve as a defensive measure; it would not draw out their enemy.
Moreover, acting too obviously might let on that they knew what was really going on, that it wasn’t a series of random events but a targeted campaign meant to drive Wen Ruohan to the end of his tolerance and beyond. That was another complication, in fact – despite devoting serious time to it, they had trouble figuring out why someone would want to do something like that.
“I would probably stop being so subtle about my attempts to take over the world,” Wen Ruohan mused, ignoring the way both Lao Nie and Lan Qiren squawked like enraged geese and shouted “Subtle?You think you’re being subtle?!” at him. “I would go back to the way of clarity and cut off all my emotions, too. They’re clearly far more trouble than they’re worth.”
“If you enter the way of clarity, I will never touch you in a sexual manner no matter how you ask,” Lan Qiren said.
Lao Nie pointed at him. “What he said.”
“If I entered the way of clarity I wouldn’t care,” Wen Ruohan pointed out, but held up his hands in surrender in the face of their glares. “However, as I haven’t, I care a great deal. My point was simply that I don’t understand what the benefit of pushing me into insanity would be to anyone else. If their goal was for me to suffer, it wouldn’t work for very long. I’d simply become utterly intolerable instead.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Lao Nie remarked. “They think there’s not enough tyrannical jackasses out there in the world, and they’re trying to change that.”
“Your contribution is, as always, a welcome ray of sunshine that adds clarity to the discussion.”
“As long as it’s not too muchclarity…”
Completely useless.
Far more relevant to Lan Qiren, however, was what happened next, when Lao Nie finally stopped sniggering, sobered up, and said, “All right, so how are we handling Qiren’s situation?”
“What situation is that?” Wen Ruohan asked, his own smile fading away at once. “He’s doing quite well here. Better than he was before, even.”
“That he was suffering at home does not retroactively make kidnapping him for completely different reasons all right and you know it,” Lao Nie said. “And don’t pretend you were thinking of Qiren’s well-being when you did it originally. You’re as self-absorbed and arrogant as you are talented, Hanhan; you didn’t even like him before.”
“I’m capable of changing my mind when presented with new evidence,” Wen Ruohan said loftily. “And new evidence indicates that he’s marvelous and also that I want him desperately. Anyway, my initial motivation is irrelevant; look at the effects. Do you even know what they were doing to him back there? I locked him in a windowless room for six days and he looked healthier.”
“Can we go back to the fact that you locked him in a windowless room for six days?”
“He was threatening suicide, what was I supposed to do?”
“What do you mean he was –”
Lao Nie was starting to get angry again. Lan Qiren put his hand over his eyes.
“Desist immediately, both of you,” he said. “You can fight about it later. Lao Nie, you asked about my situation – at the moment, I am staying voluntarily on account of the political circumstances, which are currently structured in such a way that my reappearance would be awkward for everyone. Something that is largely yourfault. What were you thinking?”
“It would only be awkward if you were willingly hiding yourself away,” Lao Nie said, skirting around the pointed question with ease. “Everyone and their brother knows that I received some information that caused me to lose my temper and fly over to the Nightless City. If you were to reappear now, in the context of a rescue, the sects that flocked to my banner – and to your sect’s – would be reassured that a war between the Nie and the Lan was not imminently on the horizon, without feeling as if they had been deliberately deceived. They’ve already gone ahead and declared themselves, there’s no point in playing coy and withdrawing now, and this way they will have less concern about the state of affairs in the future as well –”
“Leaving me and my sect to play the villain, I suppose?”
“Hanhan, you kidnapped the man, you are the villain here. Anyway, Qiren, my point is – the political situation will be fine. You can go home.”
You can go home.
Lan Qiren could go home.
Lan Qiren could –
He could face up to the fact that it wasn’t a matter of could any longer. It was a matter of have to.
There had been a certain sort of freedom in knowing that he couldn’t return, whether because he’d been kidnapped or because politics demanded discretion, but now that the option to return was once again available, Lan Qiren was going to have to stop avoiding the subject and actually think about what had happened back in his sect, with everything, with him. He would have to think about how his sect had treated him, or rather mistreated him; he would have to think about what this said about him, and them, and how he would have to deal with it in the future.
It wasn’t actually all that difficult to figure out what happened, shamefully. It had only ever been that Lan Qiren had been constantly working too hard and sleeping too little to take the time he had needed to actually consider it…though that, of course, had always been the point. This was no act of active malice, the way the present scheme obviously was against Wen Ruohan.
No, it had been something far lesser than that – pettiness, not malice; indifference, not hate.
His sect elders knew Lan Qiren’s worth, but they also knew him to be stringent and rigid, unyielding in a way his brother was not. His brother, and his father before him, had been open with their willingness to play favorites among their followers and peers, to favor some and disfavor others, applying a different understanding of the rules to those they liked and to those they didn’t. Even if his father and brother had done so within reasonable bounds, the model they had created for others to follow was a poor one – and so others, with less judgment, followed their example to flawed ends. Some even went so far as to misapply the rules themselves, inflicting abuse that Lan Qiren stamped out the moment he became aware of it, while others just continued in their own little bad habits, pampering their own regardless of merit and ignoring the rest.
(The rules said Do not form a clique and exclude others, and Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others. But once you started to pick and choose your friends, you might also pick and choose the rules you cared to follow – Lan Qiren was hardly perfect himself, breaching the rule against losing his temper multiple times, but at least he tried, genuinely and without avoidance, to follow the right path.)
If his brother had become sect leader they had all expected him to be, perhaps he would have straightened them out in his own way. Lan Qiren thought it was likely, even – his brother might be inclined to play favorites himself, but he was very conscious of his own reputation and that of his sect, which reflected on him. He was far too clever not to know that a self-indulgent and corrupt sect would be blamed upon his leadership, and he was vain enough not to be willing to tolerate it. He would have been willing to ignore his own hypocrisy and complicity in the situation he created and take firm steps to remedy the problem, provided at all times that his own sense of self was maintained.
(Lan Qiren thought sometimes that he saw hints of the same all-encompassing vanity in Lan Xichen, who was so proud of being the peacemaker regardless of situation, and in Lan Wangji, who never backed down even when he knew he was wrong, and even in himself, with his pride in his teaching and in his adherence to the rules, in his partiality towards his nephews no matter how justified it was, but simply knowing about a flaw didn’t mean he knew how to deal with it. He could only try his best to adhere ever more firmly to the rules, hoping through his strictness to impart some wisdom to his nephews.)
At any rate, when his brother had entered seclusion and leadership of the sect had fallen unexpectedly upon Lan Qiren, who was so infamously strict, there were many who disapproved, and even more who worried about what it might mean for them. So to distract him they purposefully made trouble for him, complained and blustered, and he worked himself to the bone trying to handle it all, carving out pieces of himself to meet the requirements of the role that he did not want and which did not suit him – and through that, they had figured out that it worked. They had realized that as long as Lan Qiren was too busy with sect matters, he would not have time to turn his attention towards rooting out their misconduct, focusing only on the issues that were so severe that they rose to his attention. They realized that so long as he was sunk in deep in the dust of the world, the muck and mud of the mundane, dealing with the trifles of the everyday, he would not have time to look – and without looking, he would not see them.
That was why they objected to him taking the time to raise his nephews or to focus on his teaching or his music, which would refresh and reinvigorate him and let him remember the bigger picture; that was why they declined to allow him to go into seclusion, to go out on more night-hunts than politics demanded; that was why, even though there must be others who could help him, he remained alone and unaided.
Lan Qiren almost wished it had been malicious.
He had always known that many of his sect elders did not care for him. But that they would so totally disregard his wellbeing simply to be allowed to continue their petty little privileges…
He had taken the time, these past months, to think it over, considering the long-term the way they had always feared he would, and he had identified many problems. Fighting the entrenched interests and set standards of his sect would be difficult, it would take a long time and a great deal of effort. It would require the use of all the political capital he had accumulated both within and without his sect. Returning with a new alliance with the Wen sect in hand would help, but it wouldn’t actually solve it.
It was going to be a struggle. A long, precarious, exhausting struggle, with only a slim hope of success.
Lan Qiren felt tired just thinking about all that lay ahead of him.
The worst of it was – he didn’t have to do it.
He had, unwise as it might be, chosen to bestow his affections upon the supremely selfish Wen Ruohan, and Wen Ruohan, in turn, was unaccountably fond of him. Putting aside his comments regarding sexual gratification, he genuinely seemed to like Lan Qiren, to find him funny and to enjoy his company. More than that, he was obvious enough about that liking for other people to notice and decide to target Lan Qiren in an effort to hurt him and drive him mad. This mysterious mastermind thought that an injury to Lan Qiren, or a betrayal by him, would have caused serious harm, and Wen Ruohan had agreed with that conclusion, with Lao Nie, who probably knew his lover best in the world, having concurred after only a few shichen of seeing them together.
Wen Ruohan liked Lan Qiren, even maybe loved him, and if Lan Qiren said that he didn’t want to go back to his sect and deal with all the headaches that awaited him, Wen Ruohan would be the first to say he didn’t have to. He would be delighted by it, even. Who cares about the rest of the world? He would say with a smile that actually reached his eyes. Let us be here, together, and the rest can all burn for all we care. Let he who dares to complain come knock on my door to do it!
In the safety of the Nightless City, Lan Qiren could be safe and comfortable – he could devote himself to teaching and to music, to the Wen boys who were making such excellent progress and to his wonderful nephews who had adapted so well to the labyrinthine hallways of the Sun Palace in place of the gardens of the Cloud Recesses. Wen Ruohan would even encourage his efforts in teaching the children of other sects, and Lan Qiren’s greatest struggle would be in convincing him not to go overboard and do something absurd like sending out orders to all the sects throughout the cultivation world to deliver up their heirs to learn from him whether they would or no. He would not need to fight the fights left over from the previous generation of his ancestors, and which had sprung up from his brother’s folly. He would not need to do all the work for which he was temperamentally unsuited, to waste his life on the trifles of others.
He could, if he so wished and for the first time in his life, be selfish.
But…
Maintain your own discipline.
Lan Qiren loved his sect with all the steadfastness of a Lan. He loved the beauty and tranquility of the Cloud Recesses, that home they had made for themselves; he loved the multitude of their stern rules, inscribed for eternity on the Wall of Discipline. Those rules were his ancestor’s gift to him, and through him to the next generation; he had always seen them as such, treasuring them in his heart more highly than jade and pearls.
The sect, the rules, the Cloud Recesses –
All this and more were not only for him, but for his nephews. Gusu Lan was their inheritance, and they deserved to receive it in its purest form, in the best possible form that he could get it to be before they grew old enough to want to manage it for themselves. If he were to turn away now and abandon it all simply because the burden was heavy, then how could he bring himself to face his nephews in the future? How would he have the face to go to meet his ancestors when he died?
No. His ancestors had given their sect the rules, and Lan Qiren knew those rules inside and out. His reputation was upright and pristine, even-handed and scrupulously fair, even to the point of rigidity – he would spend every bit of renown that he had won through his hard work over the years if that was what it took to get people to listen to him. He would impose discipline, inflict punishment, no matter how painful to others or even to himself, and in the end he would wash the Cloud Recesses clean. He would make it an inheritance worthy of his beloved nephews.
It would be hard, yes, but it would be worth it in the end. Everything was worth it, if it was for them.
Have a strong will, and anything can be achieved.
So be it.
“– see no reason why he can’t stay here,” Wen Ruohan was arguing to Lao Nie, who looked long-suffering. “Do you know how well my boys are doing? Ever since A-Chao learned the new writing style, he’s actually been learning, rather than just getting better at cheating.”
“I know he’s a good teacher. Everyone knows he’s a good teacher! That’s not the point, Hanhan. You can’t just take someone against their will and hope against hope that they’ll learn to like it –”
“He learned to like me, didn’t he?”
“You only keep dwelling on that because you can’t bring yourself to believe it. No, don’t lie, I know you too well. You never know what to do when someone who likes you for reasons that aren’t power, and you never have. Especially when it’s someone like Qiren.”
“…it is a little surprising, yes. But that’s not the point. He could be happy here –”
“No,” Lan Qiren said, and they both turned to look at him. “I couldn’t.”
Wen Ruohan scowled. “You can’t possibly prefer the company of those old farts over me.”
“Of course I vastly prefer yours,” Lan Qiren said, and the scowl faded slightly. “But those ‘old farts’ are my kin, and Gusu Lan my inheritance, my birthright, and my duty all together. If I were the sort of person who would abandon it all for the sake of the security, comfort, and even love that I could find in your embrace, I wouldn’t who I am, and you wouldn’t care nearly as much about my regard.”
Wen Ruohan opened his mouth to disagree, but he moved his lips and nothing came out. There really wasn’t anything he could say.
Lan Qiren nodded, appeased – if Wen Ruohan had protested, it would have meant that he didn’t respect those parts of Lan Qiren that he himself valued most. “I have never known how to bend,” he told them. “It is both my worst fault and my highest virtue, both in one. My heart is with my sect, with my family, and, yes, with you, but – the sect comes first. My nephews come first. You understand that. Both of you understand that. Even if it’s hard, even if it takes time and effort and robs me of my freedom…it doesn’t matter. Without Gusu Lan, without the Cloud Recesses, there is no me.”
“There is no you if they grind you into the mud either,” Wen Ruohan objected, voice heated, and Lao Nie nodded furiously. “You were like a lantern that had burnt down to its wick, spluttering before it went out – you cannot say that that is who you are, because it isn’t. You are so much more than that. You shine so bright, Qiren; you cannot let your sect occlude you until the world is deprived of your light.”
“I have no intention of letting them,” Lan Qiren said, feeling a faint smile appear on his face. “I thank you for your concern, truly, and this interlude – however foully it began, and know that it did begin foully, that I have not fully forgiven you for it, and that I expect a sincere and fulsomeapology for your overreach – this interlude has been of great value to me. I know what I’m dealing with, now, and deal with it I shall.”
“I really like how he sounds when he’s determined,” Lao Nie remarked. “That willpower. Terrifying. In all the best ways, of course.”
“It is truly something to behold,” Wen Ruohan said. He was still frowning, but less. Lan Qiren thought he could see some resignation in his eyes. “Are you sure, Qiren?”
“Quite sure. Will you let me go?”
“You have no idea how much I would like to forget myself and answer ‘no’, but I know it would only be robbing my future to pay for my present.” Wen Ruohan sighed. “Fine, yes, you can go. Lao Nie’s not wrong, it’s not a bad time for it…what about my boys?”
“You can send them to me to teach at Gusu,” Lan Qiren said. “Well, Wen Xu, at least. It’s not too long before my usual summer classes start, and I can continue tutoring him individually until then, if he needs it. Wen Chao needs a few more years, but he’s still building his foundation. Now that you’ve taken steps to help him deal with the imbalance, he doesn’t need special schooling, just a repeat of everything he should have learned until now. After that he can be back on the usual track for boys his age.”
Wen Ruohan was silent, frowning, as if that weren’t the answer he wanted.
After a little while, Lao Nie snorted. “Qiren,” he said. “When he said ‘what about my boys’, he actually meant ‘what about me’.”
“Well, why didn’t he just say that, then?” Lan Qiren sighed. “You can come visit me in Gusu as well, and I’ll come to visit you. You managed a relationship with Lao Nie for how many years, did you not? You know how it goes.”
“That was different,” Wen Ruohan said, and if Lan Qiren hadn’t known better he would have said the man was sulking. “Lao Nie said it himself, didn’t he? He doesn’t belong to me and never could, not really. But you…you’re a Lan. You love like madness.”
“And don’t I know it. How do you think I figured out that I like you?” Lan Qiren grumbled. “Love to the point of invention – I wrote you a song. I don’t even know what it does yet. It’s just…pointy. It’s probably some sort of horrible curse.”
Wen Ruohan looked absurdly pleased.
“As for the rest of it, we can figure it out. Neither of us are going to die any time soon.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “Well, assuming you fix this mastermind problem, anyway.”
Wen Ruohan lit up, and Lao Nie groaned.
“Great job, Qiren,” he mock-grumbled. “Now he thinks that all he needs to do is find this bastard and he’ll get you – well done, what a way to motivate him.”
“…don’t we want to motivate him to find the mastermind?”
Lao Nie patted Lan Qiren’s shoulder. “There’s motivation,” he said wisely. “And then there’s motivation. You’re about to learn the difference.”
Lan Qiren stares down at the open filigree box. His nephew has always been a collector—of memories, of dried flowers from a mother’s garden, of rocks, and so on and so forth. He has always been a sentimental boy when you deigned to look beyond the surface. It is no surprise that Lan Zhan wishes to preserve all that he loves but Lan Qiren wishes that his nephew had not decided to collect pictures of another boy who is regrettably all too familiar.
Lan Qiren stares down at pictures of Cangse Sanren’s son and wants to die. He remembers when Lan Zhan used to refer to himself as Zhanzhan with his high pitched voice and his sweetly blank chubby face. Zhan’er is still a little boy in Lan Qiren’s heart and he does not enjoy the way the boy is maturing.
Lan Zhan has begun to resemble his father overly much so. The curse of all Lans. Wei Ying and his bloodline is a menace to humanity and to Lans. He remembers Cangse Sanren’s raucous laughter and her lack of boundaries. Her son has clearly seduced his nephew. Otherwise…
Why does Lan Zhan have a collection of photos of Wei Ying?
Upon hearing a barely audible footstep, Lan Qiren whirls around with damning evidence clutched in his hand. He stares at his youngest nephew who meets him with a blank gaze.
“Hello, Uncle,” Lan Zhan says primly. “Please put the photos back in my box.” He walks further into his room and slides off his backpack. He approaches Lan Qiren, who looms over his desk and collection of boxed photos.
Lan Qiren does not appreciate the utter disregard the boy treats him with. A certain heat consumes his face as his brows draw together. He opens his mouth and closes it when Lan Zhan sits down at his desk and begins to fiddle with…with framed images of Wei Ying! A shrine of photos! A shrine to some sort of demonic entity because surely that boy’s bloodline is sourced straight from the underworld.
“Lan Zhan!” Lan Qiren snaps.
Lan Zhan lifts his head to stare at his uncle.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lan Qiren demands as he waves the photo of a boy in swim shorts, almost identical to the central image of the Wei Ying shrine. The photo in Lan Qiren’s hand also has a cloud-embroidered ribbon painstakingly glued across the boy’s nipples. Thank the heavens that the ribbon is not one of Lan Zhan’s personal ribbons. Otherwise…No, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
“He’s my boyfriend from Yunmeng,” Lan Zhan says. The tone is almost defiant, imperceptible enough that Lan Qiren cannot address it.
“A boyfriend!” Lan Qiren thunders. “You’re too young for a boyfriend! Especially for this…this shameless hussy!” He waves the photo in his hand for emphasis.
Lan Zhan opens his mouth.
It better be repentance and a promise to break up with the demon.
“Uncle, please be careful with the photo…and he’s not a ‘shameless hussy’.”
“You! Shameless! Half-naked photos!”
“Uncle, please. It’s three-quarters.”
“Insolent boy!”
Lan Qiren attempts to rip the photo of the three-quarters naked boy but the ribbon at Wei Ying’s nipples hinders any further progress. Inarticulate with rage, he stares down at his nephew, who has the gall to sport the slightest of injured looks with his downturned mouth.
“You are no longer boyfriends with him! I am calling the Jiangs tonight and putting an end to this nonsense,” Lan Qiren says. He lets out a long gusty exhale at the end, reassured by his own plan.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Lan Zhan insists.
Clearly, Lan Qiren has been too lenient with the boy. Taking up with a shameless hussy! A shameless hussy who sends three-quarters naked photos to respectable young men. Zhan’er has been seduced!
“No boyfriends! You’re only 12!” Lan Qiren shouts.
“Uncle,” Lan Zhan says, as if emphasizing their family relation will quiet his anger, “I’m 17.”
Lan Qiren points an accusing finger at his nephew. Wordless with rage, he backs out of the room with his eyes focused on his recalcitrant nephew. He cannot bear to see the sight of this wayward nephew now.
I see Madame Yu, Jin Guangyao, FUCKING Xue Yang redemption fics all the time but the one I really want to see is the Lan Qiren redemption!!! Like yes, fics where Wei Wuxian sends Lan Qiren’s blood pressuring skyrocketing are hilarious. Yes, I know his role in the story is to add another reason for Lan Wangji’s hesitation to be true to himself. Yes, I know Lan Qiren is symbolic of the cultivation world that is too arrogant and stuck in their ways to consider what is true justice.
but consider this: Lan Wangji getting understanding from his only surviving parental figure and them being able to repair their relationship makes my heart feel nice.
Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Worst Lan Tradition Ever™ (feat. LQR’s eternal headache)
The one (and only) time LJY meets (and surpasses) all of LQR’s expectations.
(This is a slightly different version from the one on Twitter because @dgcakes reminded me that I left out a number of WWX’s flaws due to me being very biased in his favour *sheepish laughter*)
@emmagrant01 omg this of course immediately made me think of “Nothing if I Can’t Have You”
