Day Seven

He’s fallen behind again.

The disciples are just within sight. In a few minutes, there will be too much of a distance between them unless Wei Wuxian picks up his pace – it feels impossible – or asks them to slow down – also unthinkable.

Luckily, Jiang Cheng notices that he’d fallen behind and backtracks to his side. With a lowered voice, he asks “Do you need to rest?”

He must look properly frightful if Jiang Cheng is being so nice to him. If he were to answer the question truthfully, he’d say that he feels like he’ll need a year of rest to recover from this ordeal. But he can’t answer truthfully, because it’s still daylight and they’re all still in Wen territory. “Not yet.”

If he’s struggling so much with such minor injuries, how is Lan Zhan faring?

There are no words to describe how disappointed Wei Wuxian is; he thought their relationship had improved over their captivity, but Lan Zhan still hasn’t shaken his habit of running for the hills whenever he has his back turned. What will it take for him to understand that he doesn’t have to do everything alone?

“What are you thinking?”

“How was Lan Zhan when he left? Did anyone treat his leg?”

The expression on Jiang Cheng’s face could sour milk. “Jin Zixuan brought a doctor with him. I was too busy taking care of you to worry about Lan Wangji. I assume someone did something for his leg.”

“He couldn’t have waited a little longer?”

It’s a remark meant mostly for himself, but Jiang Cheng is walking by his side and he must have heard it too, because he says “I thought he’d wait.” Coming from someone who has always insisted that Lan Zhan hates him and can’t wait to get rid of him, it’s a surprising admission.

“Really?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs. “He seemed pretty concerned about you, I thought he’d stick around for a little longer. He just left in the middle of the night.”

“He was concerned about me?” Wei Wuxian knows well enough that Lan Zhan, to some yet unmeasured extent, cares about him. He’d go so far as to call them friends, even. It’s just that Lan Zhan has never displayed any concern or affection for him in front of other people, so he can’t help but be curious how Jiang Cheng came to that conclusion.

“He wouldn’t let us take that ugly sword away from you. It was hard enough to carry you down that mountain without the sword adding to the weight, but it was still easier than trying to reason with that guy.”

Of all things, Wei Wuxian thinks, his fingers instinctively clenching around the hilt of the sword. Ugly it may be, but it is no common sword. He has an inkling what it might be and though it's a bit too early to draw definite conclusions, the one thing he's sure of is that he doesn't want anyone else laying their hands on it. That Lan Zhan made this particular stipulation amazes him. Does Lan Zhan have similar suspicions about the nature of the sword? Or did he just pick up on the fact that Wei Wuxian is possessive over it and resolve that this particular whim of his must be entertained?

Whatever the reason, it reminds Wei Wuxian of that time in Yunshen Buzhichu that he had called Lan Zhan his zhiji. Back then, the word had been used partly in jest and partly as an exaggeration of his delight that they had the same ideas about the Yin Tian. So much has changed since that day; amongst them, what Lan Zhan means to him.

If he were here, I'd call him my zhiji again. But this time, I'd mean it.

The thought fills Wei Wuxian with a giddy sort of pleasure. It can't have been more than a handful of days since he last smiled, but those handful of days feel like a lifetime and this time, when his lips curl into the familiar motions of a smile, it feels like coming home. Wei Wuxian gives himself to the feeling, letting the smile grow wide as it fills him with careless optimism. He’s alive, isn’t he? That’s reason enough to smile.

"Does that really make you so happy?" Jiang Cheng asks. "It's indecent."

"Why shouldn't I be happy? Do you know how hard it was to befriend him?"

Jiang Cheng just shakes his head. "Congratulations, you are Lan Wangji's one and only friend. What benefit do you get? Nothing. All of that time and blood and sweat, all for this useless achievement."

A friendship is never a useless achievement.

Wei Wuxian knows this, just as he knows that Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand it yet and that no amount of explanation will make him understand.

How does one measure the benefits of a friendship? What value should he give the feeling of Lan Zhan's gentle hand against his brow, the concern on his face? What price can he place on Lan Zhan sleeping on his shoulder? Those awkward little stories Lan Zhan tried to entertain him with, of goldfish bites and Xuwnawu tails, what are they worth?

If only their telepathic connection hadn’t been so short-lived, Wei Wuxian laments, if for no other reason than to bid his zhiji farewell properly.

Be safe, Lan Zhan, ‘til we meet again.