Wei Ying is content to stay here in Lan Zhan's arms for a while but the quiet rustle of sound from a distance reminds him where they are. Frowning, he twists around and catches sight of that unknown woman slipping back into her cottage, quietly shutting the door as if she had never been there in the first place.

How long has she been standing there? More importantly, who is she?

Before he knows it, he's pulling away from Lan Zhan. The grip around him tightens.

Wei Ying offers him a reassuring smile. “I need to ask her a few things.”

Lan Zhan says nothing but gives a curt nod, dropping his hands too soon. It takes all of Wei Ying's self control not to say fuck it to those questions and focus on reuniting with Lan Zhan again.

But, for once, the sensible part of his brain wins. He follows the woman into the cottage, listening to Lan Zhan's soft footsteps trailing after. When he slips his head inside, the scent of freshly brewed tea greets him.

The woman looks up from her tea, a small frown playing on her ageless face. As silence dawns between them, Wei Ying recognises the unnerving features she has. Pale skin as colourless as the moon, eyes as black as the night sky...

“I've seen you before,” he says, taking a step forward. Underneath him, a wooden floorboard creaks. “Months ago.”

Lan Zhan turns to him. “Her?”

“It was after our first date, when you cooked dinner for me and I, uh, left and said we shouldn't see each other anymore—sorry about that, by the way. I started getting random flashbacks to my past and it freaked me out.” Wei Ying coughs, getting back to the matter at hand. “But yeah, I left your house and then she appeared out from nowhere like a ghost!”

At this, the unknown woman's lips tug into a smile. She sits down by the table, motioning towards the empty chairs opposite her. Before sitting down, Wei Ying takes a moment to scan his surroundings again. Standing in that forest helped him gather his thoughts, although he'll admit things still don't make perfect sense—and he doubts they will for a while. There's nothing remotely normal about this situation; he's in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood, talking to some woman who may or may not be human.

Thankfully, he's not alone. Lan Zhan is right next to him—also covered in blood. What a pair they make.

He sits down with a sigh.

The woman pushes a cup of tea towards him. “So you remember. How?”

Wei Ying stares down at the rippling surface of the tea. In a flash, he sees a small cup with his face reflected on the surface. Don't drink it, his head says. Don't.

The image is gone in less than a second. He sighs for the second time, raising the cup to his lips and wincing at the bitter taste that burns his tongue.

“I think...” Wei Ying sets down the cup. “I think I met my mother. She showed me all of my memories.”

The woman's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she blinks the shock away. She drinks once again but Wei Ying sees the unsettled frown she's hiding behind her cup.

“She loves you a lot,” she says. “She was the one who told me to watch over you.”

Watch over him? “Who... are you?”

Aside from that creepy encounter months ago, he's never seen her before in his life—or his past life.

“You may know me as Baoshan Sanren.”

Wei Ying blinks, recognising that name. It's been a literal lifetime since he's heard it, but wasn't Baoshan Sanren a powerful cultivator that lived up in the mountains? She was his mother's teacher, and... well, that's all Wei Ying can really remember.

Another distant memory resurfaces, like a whisper he wanted to ignore. You also told Jiang Cheng his golden core was mended by her.

Wei Ying swallows back the lump in his throat. He wonders if Jiang Cheng ever found out the truth. He sips his tea again. This time, the bitterness helps to distract him from the guilt that automatically tries to claw at his chest. There's no use still thinking about that past.

“Instead of moving on, she waited all this time to help you remember your past...” Baoshan Sanren mutters, so quietly that Wei Ying suspects she's only talking to herself.

He looks between her and Lan Zhan, who has remained silent all this time. He hasn't even touched the cup of tea left for him.

It's strange. He doesn't look any different from what he looked like a couple of days ago, but now that Wei Ying remembers his life from when he was still a cultivator, it's as if he's seeing a different Lan Zhan. He's always been secretive, hardly revealing anything about himself unless Wei Ying asked him.

Now that Wei Ying understands the magnitude of how much he'd been hiding, he suddenly wants to know everything. What did Lan Zhan do for all these years? What can anyone do for thousands of years?

He squints at Baoshan Sanren. “Are you an immortal too? I'm... I'm having a difficult time understanding everything.”

Baoshan Sanren nods towards Lan Zhan. “You are aware that the man next to you is the same Hanguang-Jun from thousands of years ago?”

“Yes... I know that now.”

“Then he has chosen to sacrifice his golden core in order to bring you back from the dead—”

“I know that too,” Wei Ying says, sitting forward. “But the story about the immortal and the human—that wasn't real. Mom told me that when I was a kid—”

“It's real. I told her that story.”

Wei Ying jerks back. “Huh?”

Baoshan Sanren nods again, her calm face a perfect contrast to the bewildered confusion on Wei Ying's. “That story was about me,” she says.

It does little to help him understand better. His mother used to tell him that story all the time. The more Wei Ying heard it, the more he liked it until it became one of his favourite stories—which was a feat in itself considering how much Wei Ying despised sad endings.

But it had always been that: a story. Now he's supposed to believe it was actually real all this time, and the immortal in that story is actually a cultivator who's known his mother?

“Wait,” he says, scratching his head. “You met my mother again? And... that was you? But—but the immortal in that story died. I don't understand.”

Baoshan Sanren smiles, amusement evident in her dark eyes. “Your mother in this life—Chi Hong—was abandoned by her parents. I took it upon myself to give her a home as she grew up.”

Wei Ying vaguely remembers his mother used to tell him that a kind woman brought her up when she was a child. Most of the stories she knew were from that woman. In a way, it made sense now that it had been Baoshan Sanren all this time.

“As for the story... I did die,” Baoshan Sanren continues. “Afterwards, I was reincarnated and I achieved immortality again, like I had in my original life. The story about the star was the first life I had lived. Even I do not remember my real name anymore. I am Baoshan Sanren now.”

If she had originally been an immortal in the story, then that must have meant she was already quite old from the beginning—but to reincarnate after dying, and then becoming an immortal again? Wei Ying can't even begin to get his head around it.

He's pretty sure the expression on his face must look insulting to others, considering how much he's staring at her as if she's suddenly grown two heads.

“How long have you been alive?”

Thankfully, Baoshan Sanren finds no offence and actually lets out a short laugh. “How long has this world existed?”

Wei Ying can't bring himself to laugh with her. Back then, it was every cultivator's dream to become immortal. You will find peace, they said. Harmony within yourself.

Was that enough to last forever? How can someone willingly live for that long? Is it not tiring?

He looks around the small cottage, scrutinising the little glimpses into the immortal's life. By the looks of it, she lived all alone, hiding from the rest of society. At least Lan Zhan didn't isolate himself like this...

“I have lived for a very long time. I had thought humans were predictable at this point,” Baoshan Sanren says, pulling him back from his thoughts before they could run away with him. “To think your mother waited for you... I'm assuming she stopped you from drinking the medicine.”

Wei Ying frowns at the cup of tea still in front of him. It's probably cold by now.

“Yeah,” he says.

That's right. He remembers everything, unlike the human in that story. If Baoshan Sanren really is the immortal, then... the human she was with forgot about her. She gave up her core to bring him back to life, and yet he only saw her as a stranger from then on.

Was Lan Zhan prepared for that outcome? Did he give up his core, knowing that it could lead to Wei Ying forgetting him?

One look at Lan Zhan is all it takes for Wei Ying to get his answer. He's staring down at the table, hands clenched into white fists. In that moment, he looks much, much older. Tired. To think, Wei Ying could have woken up today and looked at Lan Zhan without any recollection whatsoever. He would have been a stranger to him, unaware of the sacrifice Lan Zhan made—unaware of Lan Zhan entirely.

His heart clenches. Wei Ying reaches for Lan Zhan, offering him a smile as soon as he looks up. He squeezes Lan Zhan's hand and smiles wider when the older man squeezes back.

He's glad he remembers. He's glad his mother stopped him from forgetting Lan Zhan.

“Does that mean that people like Wen Chao or Wen Ruohan... They didn't drink it too?” Wei Ying asks. Wen Chao's deranged face flashes in his head, moments before he jumped to his death. “They remembered everything.”

Back then, he hated Wen Chao. He didn't hesitate to torture him in the sickest way possible, and nor did he feel any guilt afterwards. Wei Ying was filled with so much hatred that he no longer considered people like Wen Chao as people. They were just... things he needed to get rid of. It had been all too easy to lose himself in the satisfaction of revenge.

Regardless, the memory of Wen Chao flinging himself off that building gives him no satisfaction now. He had even tried to stop him—which was a dumb thing to do because lunging at a person who's terrified of you while they're holding a gun is never, ever a good idea.

Wei Ying shifts in his chair, resisting the urge to clutch his stomach. The gunshot doesn't hurt at all. If he can forget the memories of being in that casino, then it'd be as if nothing ever happened.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Baoshan Sanren answers. “Sometimes, a person's regrets and resentments are too much to forget, no matter how much they try to move on. Wen Ruohan refused to move on. He clung onto that hatred and was born into this life with it, warping his mind as he grew up.”

Not only that, he also dragged his children into this mess... Wei Ying will never forgive the Wens for what they've done, but it's difficult to hate them now when things are no longer black and white. It was easier to distinguish good and evil during the war.

“I started to remember...” Wei Ying says.

Baoshan Sanren nods, her dark eyes averting to Lan Zhan. “Being around the same people from your past life can also trigger your memories. It's like finding a missing key to a door you did not even notice. Once you open that door, it will lead you to more unknown paths.”

That made sense. As far as Wei Ying could remember, he only started to get flashbacks after he met Lan Zhan...

Speaking of Lan Zhan, he doesn't think he's ever seen Lan Zhan look this worn before. Even when Wei Ying would stay over at his house and Lan Zhan woke up first thing in the morning, he still looked like a model ready for a photoshoot.

Then again, losing your core is bound to drain anyone out, especially if you've been relying on it for thousands and thousands of years.

“Are you okay?” he asks him. “Wouldn't losing your core be difficult for you?”

“I am fine,” Lan Zhan says, too quickly. Anyone can tell he's lying.

“Lan Zhan, I thought lying was against your four thousand and twenty rules?”

A small grimace pulls at the sides of Lan Zhan's lips. “Four thousand and nineteen,” he corrects. “Those rules are no more.”

“So you are lying.”

Lan Zhan lets out a sigh. “Tired, but fine. I will survive.”

At the very least, he does look like he'll survive. The pallid tone to Lan Zhan's skin and his glassy eyes remind him of when Jiang Cheng lost his core, but at least that's not life threatening.

Wei Ying bristles at his train of thought. As much as he wants to push the past aside, he can't stop himself from wondering what ever happened to Jiang Cheng. Did he live a happy life, eventually? Did he die hating him?

Considering the fact that their relationship now isn't the best... Wei Ying won't be surprised if Jiang Cheng hated him for the rest of his life. He expects it, even. Jiang Cheng isn't the type to forgive and forget.

“So, what happens now?” Wei Ying asks, more to himself than to the two people listening to him. His clothes are still covered in blood and, frankly, he literally looks like he died and came back to life—which is exactly what happened, but he doubts people are going to believe that.

Amusement dances in Baoshan Sanren's eyes. “You return to the life you had. Are you not happy with that?”

“No, I am. It's just... Lan Zhan, does everyone think I'm dead?” Wei Ying scratches the back of his neck. The usual deadpan look on Lan Zhan's face doesn't reassure him at all. “What do we even tell them?”

“Jiang Cheng saw...” Lan Zhan slowly said. “I do not know if he has told anyone.”

Shit. He'd been hoping that no one would know about this so he could try and adjust back to normal life. What's he supposed to tell Jiang Cheng? Jiang Cheng of all people?

“Oh. Well.” Wei Ying winces. “We'll just... come up with some story. We'll say that I wasn't actually dead so you took me to some secluded hospital in the middle of nowhere—and they saved my life and now everything is back to the way things used to be! As soon as I woke up, we professed our love to each other and made out in the woods. The end. Everyone lives happily ever after.”

Lan Zhan doesn't say anything. He blinks and Wei Ying swears he hears a quiet sigh leave his lips.

“Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue know my brother and I are immortal. Were immortal.”

Wei Ying's eyes widen. For a second, he thinks Lan Zhan is joking—but this is Lan Zhan. His mouth is set in a thin line and his eyes are fixed on him, waiting. He's not lying at all.

“What? You told them? And—wait, your brother is immortal too? Lan Xichen? Are all the Lans immortal?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “Just my brother and I.”

Well, he can't say he's really surprised. The Twin Jades of Gusu were two of the strongest cultivators in their generation. It's no wonder both of them became immortal.

Still, it's hard to get your head around the fact that two people in your life are suddenly immortal—or were immortal. Now that he thinks about it, all of the signs were there; the Lan brothers aren't that good at hiding it in hindsight...

“I guess that explains why he got arrested for being caught with a sword,” Wei Ying mutters, tapping his chin. He raises an eyebrow at Lan Zhan. “Is that why you're shit with technology?”

Narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, Lan Zhan tilts his head.

“You don't know how to change the temperature for your own shower, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan turns away. The tips of his ears have gone red. Wei Ying throws his head back and laughs.

It's funny, although his laughter trails away until it sounds forced. Lan Zhan isn't good with modern technology because he really has been living for thousands of years. Wei Ying didn't doubt it when he told him; Lan Zhan would never lie about something like this. It's just that it's a lot of years. A lot of years that he's missed. A lot of questions he wants to ask; questions he knows are best left unanswered.

He sucks in a deep breath. When he died during the siege at the Burial Mounds, Wei Ying was convinced that everyone would be better off if he was dead. He wanted to die. There was nothing, and no one left to live for. The only family he had left was Jiang Cheng, and he knew that Jiang Cheng would not hesitate to twist a blade into his heart if he had the chance.

“How was Jiang Cheng?” he asks before he can stop himself. In the corner of his eyes, he sees Lan Zhan lifting his head, watching him. Wei Ying keeps his eyes fixed on the wooden patterns of the table. “As in... back then? Was he okay?”

'Did he have a nice life?' is what he wants to ask.

It takes a while for Lan Zhan to respond. He's as still as a statue, as if he hasn't heard Wei Ying's questions at all.

“He died... during a night hunt,” he murmurs, voice so low that Wei Ying almost doesn't hear him. “It is unknown what the true circumstances were.”

A night hunt? A night hunt? Wei Ying frowns. That doesn't sound like Jiang Cheng at all. He wouldn't be the type to die at a night hunt. Jiang Cheng had always been the careful one out of the both of them. If anyone was going to die at a night hunt between them, then it would be Wei Ying, after doing something stupid like trying to wrestle a giant beast. Jiang Cheng wouldn't just die.

As if noting his confusion, Baoshan Sanren spoke up. “Qi deviation. He spent much of his life hunting demonic cultivators in the chance it may be you.”

Qi deviation. Jiang Cheng... Qi deviation?

Wei Ying's throat is suddenly dry. Did Jiang Cheng hate him that much?

Yes, his head answers him in an instant. How could he not?

It's a lifetime ago, yet it feels like yesterday since Jiang Cheng stood before him with his sword in hand. There was nothing left between them. Jiang Cheng led the siege to end his life, and Wei Ying was only too happy for everything to end.

He sighs, holding his head. Stupidly, he thought that, with his death, Jiang Cheng's life would have been better. After all, Wei Ying had been nothing but a burden to his family since the day he set foot in Lotus Pier.

“What about Jin Ling? How... about him?” Wei Ying asks, knowing he will not like the answer. If Jiang Cheng died during a night hunt, then who did Jin Ling have? Wei Ying already killed his parents.

Baoshan Sanren's jaw clenches. “He tried to stop Jiang Wanyin but it was already too late.”

Wei Ying feels his heart quicken. “What happened?”

The hesitation that flickers on the immortal's face lodges needles in Wei Ying's chest. Jin Ling was only a few months old when his parents died. Wei Ying never got to apologise to him at all. The only version of Jin Ling that he knows is the young student in his class. He remembers his scowls sent across the classroom, his reluctance to regard his existence even with Wei Ying as his teacher. It's hard to imagine that Jin Ling all alone in the cultivation world, with no one left to guide him all because of what Wei Ying had done.

“Tell me,” Wei Ying forces out. “What happened to Jin Ling?”

Baoshan Sanren sighs. “Jiang Wanyin did not recognise the young master Jin. He killed him.”

Wei Ying stops breathing.

“The deed was enough to bring his conscience back for a moment. After realising what he had done, Jiang Wanyin killed himself.”

“Oh,” Wei Ying lets out. He can only look at Baoshan Sanren and allow her words to sink in.

He looks at her, but he sees something else. He sees Jiang Cheng in a forest, all alone, ending his life as the last remaining person in his family dies.

Did he drive Jiang Cheng to qi deviation? Was that his fault too?

A hand rests on his shoulder. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan's soft voice calls out, pulling him back to the surface.

Wei Ying breathes in. Lan Zhan reaches for his own hand and envelops it into his. He's cold to the touch but it's the most comforting thing Wei Ying has felt in a while. He allows himself to count the seconds that pass, realign himself back to reality.

Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling are still alive. The brother that he knows is back home. He isn't suffering from qi deviation; he's got an explosive temper but that's Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying wouldn't change it for the world. Though their relationship is strained after all these years, Wei Ying refuses to let history repeat itself. Not this time. Not again.

“It's okay,” Wei Ying says. He means to say it to Lan Zhan but he thinks he needs to hear this himself. “It's in the past. I know Jiang Cheng is back home.”

Lan Zhan said that Jiang Cheng knows he died... He also knows the Lan brothers are both immortal.

Wei Ying wants to talk to him. Wei Ying needs to talk to him.

“I want to go home,” Wei Ying mutters.

Baoshan Sanren rises from her chair. “I will take both of you back to Gusu.”

Wei Ying stares up at her. She doesn't appear like she's aged a day past thirty, and yet she must have lived long enough to witness the beginning of this world. Looking at her makes him feel lonely.

“Will you stay here?” he asks.

Her smile is kind, motherly. Wei Ying wonders if she used to look at his mom like this. “Of course. Where else?”

He scans the small cottage, trying to imagine himself living out here all by himself for god knows how long. He can barely stand to stay in his apartment without bad thoughts creeping into his head, reminding him of all his mistakes and guilt if he lets the silence span for too long. It was easier to distract himself back when he was a cultivator; he had the war to spur him on, remind him that there was something to live for.

After the war, he was already drowning in resentful energy. He never learnt how to swim back up to the surface.

The same happened when he was reincarnated. He didn't want to be a burden on the Jiangs so he tried to take on everything by himself. He was too stubborn for his own good, relying on alcohol to ignore the guilt and nightmares that haunted him instead.

Wei Ying doubts he can ever cope with immortality. He doesn't envy Baoshan Sanren at all.

The immortal's eyes soften as if she hears every thought flickering in his head. “When you have lived for as long as I have, time stops being lonely. It becomes nothing. You become nothing.” she tells him.

Nothing.

Nothing, because everyone you have ever known has died, time and time again. The places you grew up in, the sights you loved and admired; all of it would rot away, replaced by something else until time will eventually destroy that too.

Wei Ying turns to Lan Zhan. How lonely would he have been to live for this long? How did he feel watching everyone he knew grow older, while he stayed looking the same for the rest of his life?

Was he willing to do the same with Wei Ying?

“It is not something you should concern yourself about. You are both mortal and you will live your lives as any other human in this world,” Baoshan Sanren says. “Cherish it.”

Lan Zhan bows his head, standing up. “Thank you.”

Wei Ying rises to his feet too. The smile that remains on Baoshan Sanren's face is barely a smile at all. “Why are you still here? Why do you stay?”

Instead of answering, Baoshan Sanren rounds the table and stops in front of him. She lays a hand on his head, threading her cold fingers through his unruly locks. Wei Ying remains frozen on the spot. In the far-away depths of his mind, he remembers a time when his mother stroked his hair like this, just as gently, waiting for him to finally go to sleep. She would not leave until he settled in bed.

“Take care of yourselves,” Baoshan Sanren says. “We will meet again.”

When Wei Ying blinks, Baoshan Sanren is nowhere to be seen. The cottage is no more. Instead, they're standing in a corridor with a royal blue carpet. Wei Ying instantly recognises it to be the apartments that Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen live in.

He rubs his eyes, blinking again and again. His surroundings don't shift at all. True to her word, Baoshan Sanren has brought Lan Zhan and him back home.

Wei Ying grits his teeth. He tries not to think about the fact that Baoshan Sanren didn't answer his questions. He doesn't know if she even had an answer for them.

In the corner of his eyes, he sees Lan Zhan looking around them. It's only now that Wei Ying realises their clothes are no longer covered in blood. It really is as if nothing has happened. Everything is back to normal.

But is it? He has memories from his past, weaving in with his life now, entwined together like two threads spun into one. He is Wei Wuxian, just as much as he is Wei Ying. Nothing about this is normal.

He shakes his head to himself. What was it that Uncle Jiang used to say all the time? Attempt the impossible? Well, Wei Ying is pretty sure this is as impossible as it gets.

“Were you lonely?” Wei Ying asks Lan Zhan. The other man looks up at him, silent curiosity in his golden eyes. “Being an immortal looks so... sad. I don't know how you managed to live for so long. I don't know how she's still living like that.”

“I do not regret anything,” Lan Zhan says. He turns to one of the doors in this corridor: Lan Xichen's apartment, if Wei Ying remembers correctly. “I had my brother... and I tried to find Sizhui whenever I could.”

Sizhui. How could Wei Ying only remember him now?

“You adopted him every time?” he asks, eager for any insight to what Lan Zhan did for all these years. He's glad that Lan Zhan at least had his brother and Sizhui to keep him company for all those centuries.

Strangely, Lan Zhan gazes down and avoids his eyes. His smooth face contorts into a small frown. “There is something that I have not yet told you.”

Wei Ying raises his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“Sizhui,” Lan Zhan says. “Sizhui is... Lan Yuan.”

“His birth name? Yeah, I know.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I gave him the name Lan. He was originally Wen Yuan.”

Wen Yuan.

“A-Yuan?” Wei Ying gasps. He hasn't said that name in ages. He hasn't heard that name in ages. “A-Yuan?”

He remembers the child's toothy grin whenever he clung onto his leg, refusing to let go no matter how much Wei Ying tried to wriggle him off. He remembers how loud A-Yuan could cry—and boy did he cry whenever he wanted to. If he didn't get a toy that he wanted, A-Yuan would start crying until Lan Zhan took pity on him and spoiled him rotten with new toys.

Wei Ying will admit that their little trip together around Yiling town was one of his most cherished memories. It had been nice to go around Yiling with A-Yuan and Lan Zhan. At the time, it felt almost... normal. As if he could imagine himself getting used to a life like this.

But of course, after that came the events that soon ruined everything. He killed Jin Zixuan, and nothing was ever the same after that. In a way, that memory with Lan Zhan and A-Yuan was one of the last remnants of peace Wei Ying could remember.

Wei Ying manages to find his voice again. “You found A-Yuan's reincarnations?”

“He did not die at the siege. I found him in the Burial Mounds,” Lan Zhan tells him. “He became a disciple in Gusu.”

When he heard the siege approaching, Wei Ying hid A-Yuan inside a tree and implored him to stay there at all costs. He didn't have much hope that the child would be left untouched by the attack on Burial Mounds, but he prayed the gods would spare him...

Wei Ying lets out a relieved laugh. To think, all of this time, his best student was actually A-Yuan.

“And you adopted him in all his lives?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Zhan nods. “If I found him.”

As ever, Lan Zhan is a man of few words—but he doesn't need to spell it out for Wei Ying. He found A-Yuan after the siege and took him into Gusu as a disciple. After he died, Lan Zhan sought out his incarnations and cared for him as he had done in the past. He did this for almost three thousand years.

Wei Ying moves without thinking. He cups Lan Zhan's cheeks and pulls him in for a kiss, smiling against his lips. How could he have been so blind in the past? How did he not realise what kind of an amazing, caring man Lan Zhan is?

Or rather, he did know it—he just refused to acknowledge it over his own pride. Wei Ying mistook Lan Zhan's concern for hatred. He couldn't stand to see anyone being an obstacle, even if it meant Lan Zhan was one of them.

He buries his hands into Lan Zhan's hair and allows him to deepen the kiss. Not anymore, he thinks. He'll make sure he spends the rest of his life appreciating everything Lan Zhan has gone through to make this a reality.

“Lan Zhan, you are a good man,” Wei Ying says, beaming at him once they pull apart. “I'm glad A-Yuan had you as a father all this time.”

Lan Zhan's eyes soften as he leans into him. In that moment, Wei Ying didn't care that they were in the middle of a corridor; he could stare into Lan Zhan's eyes all day.

“He is aware of my immortality. You could tell him... about yourself,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying didn't expect that. How would you even tell your child that you're an immortal being? He bites his tongue; that question can be saved for another time. For now, he pulls away and contemplates Lan Zhan's suggestion. Does Sizhui even know anything about his past? He doubts it.

“Do you think I should?”

“He would like that.”

“Hmm.” Wei Ying slowly nods. “I'd like that too.”

While Sizhui and A-Yuan are the same person, he knows for sure that Sizhui's matured a lot since then. Sizhui's his best student, both in behaviour and grades. A-Yuan, on the other hand... A-Yuan was a little brat.

Lan Zhan raised Sizhui up well. Wei Ying is sure Sizhui wouldn't be so well-behaved if he grew up with him instead.

He'll talk to him... but for now, there's something else that he needs to do.

Wei Ying looks up, finding the door to Jiang Cheng's apartment. Did Baoshan Sanren know that he wanted to talk to him? Is that why she led them here, out of all places?

It's time, Wei Ying thinks. No more running away.

“First things first, we should let your brother and Jiang Cheng know that we're back...” Wei Ying says. “Do you want to go to Xichen-ge then? I think it's probably best I talk to Jiang Cheng alone.”

Lan Zhan doesn't move. At the mention of Jiang Cheng's name, Wei Ying sees his fists clench ever so slightly.

“I'll be fine,” Wei Ying reassures. “I want to talk to him.”

Eventually, Lan Zhan nods. His gaze lingers on Wei Ying for a second more before he makes his way to his brother's apartment.

Wei Ying strides to Jiang Cheng's door before he can change his mind. He knocks, holding his breath, and waits for a response.

His heart is already hammering against his ribs. What will be even tell Jiang Cheng? How will he explain to him what happened? If he knows the Lans are immortal, then does that mean Wei Ying can tell him the truth? Does the truth make sense?

More importantly, will Jiang Cheng even listen to him?

Wei Ying clenches his fists.

“Come in.”

He blinks. That's not Jiang Cheng's voice.

He's so confused he nearly forgets what they told him. Wei Ying snaps out of it and pushes the door open, only noticing now that it was never locked to begin with. He steps inside, narrowly avoiding a stray shoe he almost trips over.

God, this place is a mess. It looks like a tornado's ripped through Jiang Cheng's apartment.

He doesn't spend long scrutinising the place. In the lounge, he spots Jiang Cheng on the sofa, fast asleep. Right next to him is Lan Xichen, staring at Wei Ying with an expression that's as bewildered as the one he has on his own face. Wei Ying looks between the two. He was hoping to talk to Jiang Cheng alone. He didn't expect to find him looking so cosy with Lan Zhan's older brother.

“Is... Is this a bad time?” Wei Ying asks.

“No!” Lan Xichen quickly lowers his voice. “I—I mean... you... You are alive.”

Wei Ying stands up straighter. “Yes,” he says awkwardly. “Surprise.”

Lan Xichen frowns, squinting at him as if he doesn't believe Wei Ying is real. “Is Wangji with you? Where is he?”

“He went to your apartment to find you. I was going to talk to Jiang Cheng...”

Lan Xichen's face relaxes. He releases what sounds like a sigh of relief and finally lets a smile pull at his lips. It occurs to Wei Ying now that Lan Zhan would have disappeared for days too. Lan Xichen must have been worried about his brother.

Gently, Lan Xichen shifts his body and looks down at Jiang Cheng who is still fast asleep. He lightly shakes him until Jiang Cheng frowns and attempts to push him off.

“What?” he grumbles. “What is it?”

Lan Xichen coughs, nodding towards Wei Ying's direction. Wei Ying would have been amused at the groggy look on Jiang Cheng's face if his heart didn't start battering against his ribs again. When Jiang Cheng finally glances at him, all Wei Ying can do is stand still, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Jiang Cheng's eyes are the widest he has ever seen them. His breath hitches and Wei Ying sees that his hands have started to shake.

Neither of them move.

The only one that moves is Lan Xichen. He spares another smile at both of them and quietly slips out of the apartment. The sound of the door shutting close is so loud against the silence that soon follows.

All of the words that Wei Ying wants to say to Jiang Cheng are suddenly forgotten. He doesn't know what to do now, not when it feels like literal centuries since he's seen Jiang Cheng.

In a way, it has been that long.

Wei Ying licks his lips, watching as Jiang Cheng slowly stands up. His hands are clenched tightly; so tight that his fists have gone white. God, he hopes this doesn't break out into a fight. He's tired of fighting with Jiang Cheng, and he didn't come here for an argument.

He clears his throat, forcing himself to speak.

“...Hey.”

Nothing. Jiang Cheng continues to stare at him.

Wei Ying winces. “I—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Wei Ying staggers back. It's not the punch that he expects—Jiang Cheng's arms are suddenly around him and his face is pressed against his shoulder. He freezes. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what's happening.

Too long, it dawns on him that Jiang Cheng is shaking and the wet patch on his shoulder is because he's crying. Wei Ying releases the breath he's been holding in. It's been too long, too long since he felt that he and Jiang Cheng were brothers. Blinking back tears of his own, he returns the hug.

Baoshan Sanren's words return to him. Jiang Cheng died all alone, with no one left to mourn his dead body. Wei Ying tightens his arms around the trembling man, listening to the sobs that he desperately tries to hold back.

“I'm sorry,” Wei Ying says. Apologising will never bring back the people they have lost, nor will it erase the years they spent away from each other, but at that moment, Wei Ying is tired of being stubborn. He's tired of avoiding confrontation because it's easier. He's tired of not being able to look at Jiang Cheng and think, yes, that's his brother, his best friend.

He clings onto him. “I'm sorry, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “As long as you're back.” His own voice is muffled by Wei Ying's shoulder, though he hears it and feels a huge weight lifting from his shoulders. The smile that spreads across his face is full of relief.

He is back, and he'll make sure that he fixes everything in this life. He won't take any of this for granted.

Jiang Cheng is the first to pull away. He vehemently wipes his eyes, glaring down at the floor before proceeding to punch Wei Ying right in the chest.

“Ow!” Wei Ying cries, rubbing the throbbing ache. “What the fuck!”

Jiang Cheng lifts his chin up, throwing a scowl in his direction. “You idiot! I thought you were dead!” he screams back. “I didn't know what to tell A-Jie! I-I didn't know what to do!”

Wei Ying sighs at the crack in his voice. “I... I thought I was dead as well. But Lan Zhan brought me back.”

Ducking his head down, Jiang Cheng continues to rub his eyes. Wei Ying looks away, knowing that Jiang Cheng hates it when people see him cry.

“You didn't tell Jiejie?” he asks instead.

“How could I? What was I supposed to say?” Jiang Cheng snaps. He sniffs again, wiping his eyes one last time before finally raising his head. In a quieter voice, he admits: “I didn't want to believe you were gone forever.”

Wei Ying relaxes into a smile. “Well, I'm here now. You're stuck with me.” He takes a deep breath, preparing the words he's been meaning to say for years. “Listen, Jiang Cheng, I'm sorry about everything—”

“Shut up about that. I don't care.” Jiang Cheng coughs, shaking his head to himself. “It doesn't matter anymore. It's... It's in the past. It was never your fault. It was just easier to blame everything on you. I should be the one saying sorry.”

How could he not blame everything on him? Wei Ying screwed up in the past, and even now in the present. Both times, he thought the best decision was to leave Jiang Cheng, because he thought it was the right thing to do... or it had been the only thing left to do.

“You were right to be angry at me,” Wei Ying tells him.

After realising what he had done, Jiang Wanyin killed himself, Baoshan Sanren had said. Wei Ying didn't want to imagine what went through Jiang Cheng's mind during his final moments. The despair would have broken him too, he thinks.

Unable to stop himself, he grabs Jiang Cheng and pulls him into another hug, ignoring the surprised yelp that comes from him.

“I'm sorry I left you,” Wei Ying says. They were supposed to be the Twin Prides of Yunmeng, protecting their home side by side. Wei Ying tightens his arms around him, knowing full well it had been him who broke this promise. He left Jiang Cheng both times, repeating history and letting their differences tear them away.

“I... I... It's okay,” Jiang Cheng mumbles. He pats him lightly on the back, as if unsure whether to return the hug or not. In the end, Jiang Cheng sighs and pats Wei Ying again. “So, how long are we going to stand here hugging each other? Because I'm really not used to this at all.”

Wei Ying scoffs, pulling away. “Asshole.”

Jiang Cheng lets out a half-hearted smirk and sits back down on the sofa. Not knowing what else to do, Wei Ying follows him.

“Are you aware that your boyfriend is an immortal who's lived for thousands of years?” Jiang Cheng says.

Wei Ying scratches the back of his head. “Uh, yeah, about that... I found out while I was dead.”

“I give up trying to understand everything,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “Xichen explained a few things but, even now, it all sounds like bullshit.”

At least that means Wei Ying doesn't have to try and explain things to him. He chuckles lightly, although he'll admit that he might share Jiang Cheng's opinion in this matter. It is all bullshit. He witnessed it all first-hand and he still can't believe any of this.

“I'm not quite sure how all this is possible as well,” he admits, shrugging. “But I'm here now and that's all that matters, I guess.”

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him. “Are you really alive though? There's no twist, like you'll disappear in a week or something?”

“No, I'm okay. I feel... I feel fine.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng says, then, more quietly, adds on: “I'm glad.”

It will take a while for both of them to be comfortable with each other again—but this is a good first step so far. It's better than arguing every time they cross paths. It's better than nothing. Wei Ying grins at Jiang Cheng, pleased when he rolls his eyes back at him. That's exactly what he used to do all the time.

He sits back on the sofa, scanning the room once again. Amidst all the chaos, he spots an unfamiliar suit jacket that he knows doesn't belong to Jiang Cheng. First of all, it's white, and even though they haven't been on speaking terms for over a whole decade now, Wei Ying still knows that Jiang Cheng doesn't wear white. His whole wardrobe consists of black or purple.

“So, what's going on with you and Xichen-ge?” he asks, nudging Jiang Cheng with his elbow. Almost immediately, his brother stiffens in response. “I die and suddenly you two are together?”

Jiang Cheng shoves him off. “Get out of my apartment.”

Wei Ying can't stop himself from letting out a cackle. “I'm serious!”

“So am I!”

“You've gone red!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Wei Ying manages to dodge the punch aimed straight for his face. Laughing, he rolls off the sofa and jumps into safety behind the table. On the other side, Jiang Cheng's cheeks are still bright red as he shakes his fist at him. “Just admit it!” Wei Ying urges. “You're really not as straight as you think you are!”

Jiang Cheng's chest heaves. He gasps, as if Wei Ying has just insulted him. “I said shut up! Go back to your damn boyfriend!”

“When was the last time you've been with someone?”

“You can't talk! Lan Wangji's your first boyfriend!”

Wei Ying dismisses him with a wave of a hand. “This isn't about me. This is about you and Xichen-ge!”

Jiang Cheng throws his hands in the air. “We're just friends!”

The blush on Jiang Cheng's cheeks say otherwise. Wei Ying decides to risk his life by inching closer to Jiang Cheng, raising his eyebrows at the stubborn man.

“Didn't he kiss you when he was drunk?” Wei Ying asks.

“Exactly. He was drunk,” Jiang Cheng snaps, then scowls again at Wei Ying when he sees the grin playing on his lips. “And why are we even talking about this?! This is not going to be the first proper conversation I have with you after all these years!”

Wei Ying dodges another punch sent his way. “Just grab him by his shoulders and kiss him! That's what I did with Lan Zhan! It doesn't matter when or where you do it—”

“I told you to shut up! Get out of my apartment! GO! Why are you even here?! I didn't say you could come visit me whenever you wanted to!” Jiang Cheng grabs a cushion from the sofa and whacks Wei Ying—or he would have, had Wei Ying not ducked in time.

“I died!” Wei Ying yells back. “I thought you'd at least want some reassurance that I was still alive!”

“Don't die in the first place, bastard! I cried over you for nothing!”

“Aaw, you do care—”

“GET OUT! OUT!”

It's just like the old times. At the some point, Wei Ying trips over while trying to avoid Jiang Cheng's onslaught. He admits defeat and lets the angered man attack him with the cushion, all the while yelling about how annoying and irritating he is. All in all, Wei Ying is glad he spoke with Jiang Cheng. It's good to be back.

 

- x -

 

The door to his brother's apartment is already open. Wangji steps inside, listening to the empty silence that greets him. At the other side of the room, the curtains are drawn open, allowing the orange rays of the sun to spill forth. Sunset is dawning on them, painting red and purple onto the sky as the city begins to calm down.

Another day is ending. The first day that Wangji has spent as a human.

It does not feel different. If he ignores the lethargic daze that is his body trying to adjust without his core, then he would mistake this for any other day.

Behind him, the door clicks open. Soft footsteps approach closer and he does not need to turn around to know who it is. Nevertheless, he faces him, watching as the concern on his brother's face is immediately masked by that smile he offers to everyone.

“Brother,” Wangji greets.

Xichen steps closer. He looks well, aside from the faint dark circles under his eyes. Wangji suspects he has not been able to sleep since his disappearance.

“Wangji, you're back,” Xichen says.

Wangji grits his teeth. Overcome with emotion during their last encounter, he did not stop to think about how much it would trouble his brother if he were to suddenly leave. They have had similar fights in the past; often because of their rising frustration with not knowing what to do in this life. Sometimes, it was Xichen that left, disappearing for months, years. No matter how long their separation turned out to be, both brothers always found each other in the end, without fail.

“I... I apologise for leaving,” Wangji says, looking down.

Xichen shakes his head. “Don't. I'm only glad you're back. Although, I must admit... You had me worried.”

“I am sorry. I... I brought Wei Ying back.”

“I saw. How?”

Wangji looks out towards the window. The sky has already turned purple. “I found another immortal much older than us. Baoshan Sanren.”

Xichen hums in recognition at the name. “Did she bring Wei Wuxian back?”

Wangji turns back to his brother. “Yes, at the cost of my core.”

His brother blinks, too shocked to respond. He scans Wangji from head to toe, as if he is trying to see any differences that may reveal the disappearance of his core. Of course, without a golden core himself, Xichen cannot sense the spiritual energy—or lack of it—from Wangji. They are both human now.

“You... You do not have your core either?”

Wangji nods. “It is gone now.”

His brother sits down, gaze fixed on the floor. “I am... relieved. I did not want you to be alone.”

He did not want to leave Wangji behind, if Wangji had chosen to stay immortal and Xichen was forced to age and die eventually. Wangji smiles. “I am glad too,” he says.

Soft laughter spills from his brother's lips. He trails off, gazing out of the window with eyes that are difficult to read. Wangji does not think he looks sad, but he doubts his brother is happy either.

“It's all so anti-climatic, isn't it?” Xichen murmurs. “We have lived for so long... and suddenly, that's all over. I must admit I do not know what to do now.”

Ah. It is not sadness, and nor is it happiness. His brother feels lost.

Wangji sits down beside him. In truth, he does not know if he can relate to this. He has Wei Ying and Sizhui; his heart, for once in his life, is brimming with hope for the future. He is happy to sleep tonight, knowing he will wake up to a new day that he has been longing for an eternity.

“We... do what we have always done,” Wangji says. He is not as gifted with words as his brother. He cannot weave them into a sentence that will comfort him, but he will try.

Xichen, as always, understands the underlying message behind Wangji's silence. “Live each day, pretending we are human?”

“Hm. We do not have to pretend now.”

Another laugh escapes his brother. This time, it sounds quieter than the last. “I feel as if I am still trying to find a quick answer to this... Part of me wishes I can look into the future and see what is in store for me. This uncertainty is... strange.”

Wangji understands. Although he despised immortality, there was some comfort in the monotonous schedule of unending life. Now that they are mortal, everything seems fragile, as if time will slip past their fingers before they can prepare themselves.

“I suppose that is the case for everyone. Part of living is not knowing what tomorrow will bring,” Xichen says.

Wangji hums in agreement. “Yes.”

With a sigh, Xichen stands up and stretches his arms. “Let us relax for now. I will make us some tea.”

Nodding, Wangji watches his brother make his way to the kitchen. He remains where he is, studying the vase of peonies on the coffee table. This calm is strangely comforting and unsettling at the same time. He lays a hand over where his golden core used to be, feeling nothing but hollow emptiness. No warmth. No spiritual energy. Just the steady beating of his pulse, reminding him he is still alive.

His brother returns with two cups of tea. He hands one of them to Wangji, sitting down next to him once again.

“Do you remember what our parents looked like?” Xichen asks.

Wangji glances up. He did not expect that question.

Their parents... Try as he might, he can no longer paint an image of them to match his memories. When he thinks about his mother, all he sees is a vague figure of a woman staring out of the window, longing to see the stars she could never reach. His father, too, is a distant memory. Wangji thinks of the cottage he secluded himself in, refusing to see the world and instead rotting away with his own guilt. He cannot think of a face for the man he once called his father. He can only remember the frustration he hid, the questions he never asked.

Why? Why, why, why?

“...No,” Wangji admits. He loves his parents, but he cannot remember who they are. They are nothing but thoughts to him now.

A sad smile spreads across his brother's lips. “I am the same. I remember the memories... I remember visiting our mother and listening to her sing, but I do not remember her face and her voice. I remember visiting Father in seclusion...”

Xichen looks up into the ceiling, his eyes far away. “He would tell me the duties of a sect leader, what was expected of me... And I remember thinking why, why don't you abide by them? Why must you seclude yourself in this cottage?”

Wangji clenches his jaw. He has had similar thoughts. He respected their father, although he never understood him. He saw how love destroyed him, and he saw how much of a prison it turned for his mother. For all of his life, Wangji swore he would not become like that. He would not become his father.

And so, when Wei Ying refused to come back to Gusu with him, Wangji resisted the strong urge to steal him away, to keep him safe from the rest of the world. His intentions were good, pure; he only wanted Wei Ying to be happy.

But then he remembered his mother. Love did not make her happy. Love imprisoned her in a cottage and made her yearn for stories she could not witness herself. Love left her to die alone, leaving two children who did not understand why their mother was so sad until they were older, more mature, more trained to keep their emotions under control.

Wangji loves Wei Ying, but he would not love him like that. He would love Wei Ying and give him all the freedom in the world, if he'd only allow it.

“Mother wanted to know the stories behind each star,” he says, quietly, holding onto the fragile memories.

Xichen nods. “She did. She loved looking out of her window.”

Whenever they were allowed to visit, their mother gazed out of the window during the evening and point at the different shapes the stars drew across the sky. She would tell her sons to find the stories behind those constellations. Every night, the two young boys promised they'd come back to her with their stories. If their mother could not go to the stars herself, then they would bring them to her.

“Once, I told her that I would take her up to the stars as soon as I learnt how to fly on my sword,” Xichen muses.

In the end, she died before they were able to share any stories with her. Even now, the stars remain a mystery to Wangji. He wonders if it is too late to learn about them now.

“I hope they have both found peace, wherever they are,” Xichen says. Wangji can only nod. Wherever they are. Maybe, in another life, his parents loved each other the way you are meant to love a person. Or... maybe they never met again. Maybe it was not meant to be.

Silence falls between both brothers. They drink their tea as Wangji is lost to thoughts of the past, thoughts of the future. He is not sure what the future will bring, but he will not waste it away.

“I envy you, Wangji,” Xichen says.

Wangji tilts his head, confused. “Why?”

“You are in love. I have been too scared of getting attached to anyone.”

“It was not your fault,” Wangji says. He knows that Xichen is thinking about his sworn brothers; he will never stop letting the burden of his guilt consume him. While Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao now live new lives, Xichen is still blaming himself for their deaths.

“Will you talk to them?” Wangji asks, noticing the immediate flinch his brother responds with.

Xichen runs a hand through his hair, contemplating. “I... should. I will. I am tired of this guilt.”

Wangji studies his brother. It is easy for Xichen to smile. In a way, it is similar to Wangji's difficulty in displaying his emotions. Both brothers hide what they truly feel, simply because it is what was expected of them as they grew up. Do not let your emotions control you. Do not lose yourself in happiness.

Now, Wangji is glad the rules of the Cloud Recesses no longer exist.

“Brother, you... deserve to be happy,” he says, watching as the forced smile on Xichen's face turns into surprise.

“Are you happy, Wangji?” Xichen asks.

“Yes,” Wangji answers, quicker than he expects to. It surprises him more than he means it.

Xichen nods. “Our lives have not been easy. Time and time again, I have wondered why I was still alive, and I know that you have had similar thoughts.” Xichen stares down at his hand. He spreads it out, as if expecting spiritual energy to dance around his fingertips the way it used to. “But I do not regret anything. I am glad we did not give up.”

A genuine smile appears on Xichen's face, reaching the corners of his dark amber eyes. He lays a hand on Wangji's shoulder. “I may not know what tomorrow will bring, but I'm glad we will experience it together, Wangji.”

Wangji returns the smile. He is truly glad that his brother has been with him from the very beginning.

“The Twin Jades of Gusu, on their next adventure to tackle mortal life,” Xichen says, leaning back on his chair. “How exciting.”

Mortal life... Perhaps the biggest challenge they will have so far. Wangji will admit that, no doubt, he'll miss cultivating.

“No more infiltrations into the police station,” he comments, remembering the time they stole back Xichen's sword after Jiang Cheng arrested him.

At this, his brother lets out a laugh that is too loud, even for him. “Wangji, is that a joke?”

They relax into another silence, finishing their tea. By now, the sky has darkened into indigo and night has fallen onto Gusu. The city's lights are too bright for the stars to appear, but Wangji knows they are out there, still waiting for their stories to be told. One day, he will learn of them, just as his mother requested.

For now, he waits for what tomorrow will bring.