The Good Companion

He hadn’t expected Lan Wangji would truly keep him company; he tipped his head back and drained the cup himself. Who knew, Lan Wangji watched him, silent for a long moment, then lightly rolled up his sleeve, reached out, poured himself a cup of wine, steadied it, lifted it, and slowly drank it down.

Wei Wuxian was mildly surprised, “Hanguang-jun, you’re too considerate, really drinking with me?”

Last time they drank, Wei Wuxian hadn’t studied his expression carefully; this time he paid deliberate attention.

When Lan Wangji drank, he closed his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed. He finished the cup, pressed his lips together imperceptibly, and only then opened his eyes. In the depths of his gaze, a faint, watery sheen would glimmer.

Wei Wuxian propped his chin on his hand at the table and began to count silently. Sure enough, at the eighth count, Lan Wangji set down the cup, pressed his forehead, closed his eyes — and fell asleep.

Wei Wuxian was thoroughly convinced: so it really is sleep first, then drunk!

A sense of inexplicable, eager restlessness surged up in him. He drained the remaining wine from the pot in one gulp, stood up, and walked back and forth with his hands behind his back in the private room. A moment later, he came to Lan Wangji’s side, bent low, leaned in, and whispered near his ear: “Lan Zhan?”

No answer. Wei Wuxian said again, “Wangji-xiong?”

Lan Wangji’s right hand propped up his forehead; his breathing was very steady and gentle.

That face and the hand propping his forehead were both flawlessly white, like fine jade.

The faint sandalwood scent emanating from his body was originally cold, somewhat desolate. Now, however, the sandalwood mingled with the mellow richness of wine; within the cold fragrance stirred traces of warmth, as if a thread of tipsy sweetness had been blended in, subtly intoxicating.

Wei Wuxian had drawn close, and this fragrance wreathed about his breath. Unconsciously, he bent his body even lower, drawing nearer to him. Vaguely, he thought: “Strange... why does it feel a little hot?”

Amidst the wine and sandalwood, his face drew closer and closer, yet he remained utterly unaware. His voice dropped low, tinged with a hint of teasing, as he murmured: “Lan Er-ge...”

Suddenly, a voice drifted over, soft and ghostly: “Gongzi...”

Wei Wuxian’s face had pressed to within a hair’s breadth of Lan Wangji’s, and the “gege” on his tongue was about to part his lips when he was startled awake by the sound. His foot slipped, and he nearly toppled over.

Immediately, he shielded Lan Wangji behind him and turned to face the wooden window from which the voice had come.

That wooden window was tapped lightly once, and again a tiny voice slipped through the gap: “Gongzi...”

Only then did Wei Wuxian realize that his heart was beating a little fast. He inwardly muttered a “strange,” steadied his nerves, walked over, and abruptly propped the window open. A black-clad figure was hooked onto the eaves, hanging upside-down outside the window, just about to knock again. When Wei Wuxian suddenly opened the window and hit his head, he let out a soft “ah,” propped his hands against the window pane, and came face-to-face with Wei Wuxian.

A blast of cold night wind blew in through the window. Wen Ning opened his eyes — the sockets were no longer a deathly white; they held a pair of quiet black pupils.

Thus, one standing upright, the other hanging upside-down, they stared at each other for a long moment.

Wei Wuxian said, “Come down.”

Wen Ning failed to keep his grip on the eaves, plummeted down, and landed with a heavy thud on the ground below.

Wei Wuxian wiped a cold sweat from his forehead that wasn’t actually there.

He thought to himself: “This place was an absolutely spot-on choice!”

Fortunately, he had picked this tavern. For the sake of quiet, the wooden window of the private room faced not the pedestrian street but a small grove of trees. Wei Wuxian used the pole to prop the window securely, leaned his upper body out, and looked down. Wen Ning’s body was dead-heavy; he had smashed a human-shaped crater into the ground. Lying in the pit, his eyes were still staring at him.

Wei Wuxian lowered his voice and shouted at him: “I told you to come down, not to go down. ‘Come,’ understand?”

Wen Ning craned his neck to look at him, climbed out of the pit, brushed the dirt from his clothes, and hastened to say: “Oh. I’m coming.”

With that, he hugged the pillar again, intending to climb up along it. Wei Wuxian said: “Stop! Stay right there. I’ll go to you.”

He returned to Lan Wangji’s side, leaned down and whispered in his ear: “Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, you must sleep a while longer. I’ll be right back. Be good, alright?”

After saying that, his hand felt a little itchy; he couldn’t resist using his fingertip to brush against Lan Wangji’s eyelashes.

Lan Wangji’s long lashes quivered from his teasing, his brows knitting slightly, a touch restless. Wei Wuxian withdrew his mischievous claw, leaped out the window, tread lightly on the eaves and branches in several bounds, and landed on the ground. Just as he turned around, Wen Ning knelt before him.

Wei Wuxian said, “What are you doing?”

Wen Ning said nothing, hanging his head. Wei Wuxian said, “Do you absolutely have to speak to me like this?”

Wen Ning said in a low voice, “Gongzi, I’m sorry.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Fine.”

With that, he also knelt down before Wen Ning. Wen Ning was startled, and hurriedly kowtowed to him; Wei Wuxian immediately kowtowed back as well. Wen Ning was so alarmed that he hastily jumped up. Only then did Wei Wuxian stand, dust off his robe’s hem, and say, “If you’d just straighten your back and talk like that from the start, wouldn’t it be better?”

Wen Ning hung his head, not daring to speak. Wei Wuxian said, “When did you regain your senses?”

Wen Ning said, “Just now.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Do you remember what happened while the Skull-Piercing Nail was in your head?”

Wen Ning said, “Some I remember... some I don’t.”

Wei Wuxian said, “What do you remember?”

Wen Ning said: “I remember being bound by iron chains in a pitch-black place. Occasionally, someone seemed to come check.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Remember who it was?”

Wen Ning said, “I don’t remember. I just know someone drove things into my head.”

Wei Wuxian said, “It must have been Xue Yang. He also used Skull-Piercing Nails to control Song Lan. He was a former retainer of the Lanling Jin Sect. But whether he did it of his own accord or under the Lanling Jin Sect’s direction, I don’t know.” He thought for a moment, then added, “It was likely under the Lanling Jin Sect’s direction. Back then, it was publicly declared that you’d been reduced to ashes. Without the Lanling Jin Sect’s intervention, he alone probably couldn’t have pulled off such a massive deception.”

After a pause, he continued, “And then? How did you end up on Mount Dafan?”

Wen Ning said, “Later, I don’t know how long after, I suddenly heard clapping sounds, and heard you say ‘Still not awake?’ So I... broke the iron chains and charged out...”

That was the command Wei Wuxian had given to the three Fierce Corpses back in Mo Village.

In the past, the Yiling Patriarch had issued countless commands to the Ghost General, so when Wei Wuxian returned to the world and gave his first command, Wen Ning heard it too.

Thus, Wen Ning, in his chaotic state, began to follow the guidance of his own kind and Wei Wuxian’s commands to find his way. The Lanling Jin Sect also understood that the secret of hiding the Ghost General could not be publicized; if news leaked, it would not only damage the clan’s reputation but also cause panic. So even when Wen Ning fled, they dared not pursue him with fanfare, hamstrung by caution. Wen Ning wandered all the way, and at last, on Mount Dafan, he caught up with Wei Wuxian’s summoning flute, and they successfully reunited.

Wei Wuxian sighed, and said, “Your ‘I don’t know how long’ was over a decade.”

After a pause, he said, “Though on my end it’s about the same. Should I tell you some of what’s happened over these years?”

Wen Ning said, “I’ve heard some already.”

Wei Wuxian said, “What have you heard?”

Wen Ning said, “I heard that the Burial Mounds are gone, and the people... all gone.”

Actually, Wei Wuxian had originally wanted to tell him some harmless anecdotes, like how the Lan clan’s rules had increased from three thousand to four thousand. Who knew Wen Ning would open his mouth with something so heavy? He couldn’t help but fall silent.

But heavy as it was, Wen Ning’s tone was not sorrowful, as if he had long known it would be so. And indeed, it had long been known. As early as over a decade ago, the worst outcome had been predicted countless times.

After a moment of silence, Wei Wuxian said, “What else did you hear?”

Wen Ning said softly, “Sect Leader Jiang Cheng led people to besiege the Burial Mounds. He killed you.”

Wei Wuxian said, “That I must clarify: it wasn’t he who killed me. I died from the backlash.”

Wen Ning finally raised his eyes to look at him directly, saying, “But Sect Leader Jiang clearly...”

Wei Wuxian said, “A person can’t walk safely across a single-plank bridge for a lifetime. There’s no helping it.”

Wen Ning seemed to want to sigh, but he had no breath to sigh with. Wei Wuxian said, “Enough, let’s not talk about him. Did you hear anything else?”

“Yes.” Wen Ning looked at him: “Wei-gongzi, your death was so miserable.”

“...” Seeing his doleful expression, Wei Wuxian said, “Ah, haven’t you heard a single piece of good news?”

Wen Ning knitted his brows worriedly: “Indeed. Not a single one.”

“...” Wei Wuxian was rendered speechless.

At that moment, the sound of loud shattering porcelain came from the main hall on the first floor. Lan Sizhui’s voice followed: “We were just talking about Xue Yang — why are we arguing up to this point?”

Jin Ling said angrily: “We were talking about Xue Yang, wasn’t what I said correct? What did Xue Yang do? He’s a scumbag worse than a beast, and Wei Ying is even more disgusting than him! What do you mean ‘can’t be lumped together’? That kind of Crooked Demonic Path remaining in the world is a scourge; they should all be killed, wiped out, exterminated!”

Wen Ning stirred; Wei Wuxian gestured for him to stay still. They heard Lan Jingyi also join in, shouting: “Why are you so furious? Sizhui didn’t say Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be killed; he only said that not everyone who cultivates the Ghostly Path is necessarily like Xue Yang. Do you have to go smashing things around? I haven’t even eaten that yet...”

Jin Ling sneered: “Didn’t he also say, ‘The one who created this path may not have intended to use it for wrongdoing’? Who is ‘the one who created this path’? Tell me — besides Wei Ying, who else is there! It’s truly baffling. Your Gusu Lan Sect is also a prestigious clan; in those years, wasn’t it true that quite a few of your people died at Wei Ying’s hands? Did you get a headache killing Walking Corpses and that mob of lackeys under him? Why are you, Lan Yuan, speaking with such a strange stance? From what you just implied, could it be you actually want to exonerate Wei Ying!”

Lan Yuan was Lan Sizhui’s name. He defended himself: “I’m not trying to exonerate him. I’m merely suggesting that before we understand the full story, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Remember, before we came to Yi City, weren’t there many who confidently asserted that Chang Ping of the Liyang Chang Sect was killed by Daozhang Xiao Xingchen to vent his revenge? And what was the truth?”

Jin Ling said: “Whether Chang Ping was killed by Daozhang Xiao Xingchen or not — no one witnessed it. Everyone was just speculating; how can that be called an assertion? But Wei Ying’s Qiongqi Path Ambush, the Bloodbath of the Nightless City — in those two battles, how many cultivators perished at his hands, at the hands of Wen Ning and the Yin Tiger Seal! These are facts that countless people saw with their own eyes, undeniable, irrefutable! And that he instigated Wen Ning to kill my father, and caused my mother’s death — these I will never forget!”

If Wen Ning’s face could hold any color, it would have drained completely now.

He said in a low voice: “...Jiang Guniang’s son?”

Wei Wuxian stood motionless.

Jin Ling continued: “My uncle grew up with him, my grandfather regarded him as his own son, my grandmother treated him well too. And what did he do? He caused Lotus Pier to be reduced to a demonic lair for Wen’s rabble once, caused the Yunmeng Jiang Clan to be torn apart, caused my grandparents and parents to die in pairs, leaving only my uncle now! He reaped what he sowed, stirred up storms and ended without a whole corpse! What’s still unclear about that story? What’s there to exonerate!”

He was pressing hard; Lan Sizhui said nothing. After a long pause, another youth said: “Why must we argue over this for no good reason? Let’s not mention it anymore, alright? We’re eating, and the food has gone cold.”

Judging by the voice, it was that “romantic fool” Wei Wuxian had teased before. Another voice chimed in: “Zizhen is right, stop fighting. Sizhui just spoke carelessly, he didn’t consider that much with a casual remark. Jin-gongzi, sit down, let’s eat together.”

“Yeah, we’ve all just come out of Yi City; you could say we’ve shared life-and-death camaraderie... Why quarrel over a careless slip of the tongue?”

Jin Ling snorted. Lan Sizhui finally spoke, still courteous as ever: “My apologies, it was my lack of consideration and thoughtless words. Jin-gongzi, please sit. If we keep arguing, it won’t be good if Hanguang-jun is drawn down.”

At the mention of Hanguang-jun, it indeed had a miraculous effect. Jin Ling immediately ceased even his snorting. Sounds of moving tables and stools rose, apparently they had sat down. The main hall grew noisy again; the youths’ voices were quickly drowned in the clatter of dishes and chopsticks. Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning, however, stood quietly in the small grove, both with grave expressions.

In the silence, Wen Ning once again knelt down soundlessly. Only after a long while did Wei Wuxian notice his movement; he waved his hand feebly and said, “This has nothing to do with you.”

Just as Wen Ning was about to speak, he suddenly glanced behind Wei Wuxian and froze for a moment. Wei Wuxian was just about to turn and look when he saw a flash of white robes pass him by. A foot shot out and kicked Wen Ning in the shoulder.

Wen Ning was kicked into another human-shaped crater.

Wei Wuxian hurriedly grabbed hold of Lan Wangji, who was about to kick again, and said repeatedly: “Hanguang-jun, Hanguang-jun! Please calm your anger!”

It seemed that the “sleep” time had passed, the “drunk” time had arrived, and Lan Wangji had found his way out.

This scene was strangely familiar; history was startlingly similar. Only this time, Lan Wangji appeared even more normal than before; his boots weren’t even on the wrong feet. Even when making such a rough move as kicking Wen Ning, that face grew increasingly solemn, upright, and righteous, without a single flaw to be found. After Wei Wuxian held him back, he shook out his sleeve, nodded, and stood there with an air of proud detachment, not kicking anymore as instructed. Wei Wuxian took the chance to ask Wen Ning: “How are you?”

Wen Ning said, “I’m fine.”

Wei Wuxian said, “If you’re fine, then get up! What is this still kneeling for?”

Wen Ning got up, hesitated for a moment, and said, “Lan-gongzi.”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brows, covered his ears, turned his back to Wen Ning, faced Wei Wuxian, and used his body to block his line of sight.

Wen Ning: “...”

Wei Wuxian said, “You’d better not stand here. Lan Zhan, uh, doesn’t really like seeing you.”

Wen Ning said, “...What’s wrong with Lan-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Nothing. He’s just drunk.”

“Ah?” Wen Ning looked blank, clearly finding this hard to accept. After a moment, he finally said, “Then... what should we do?”

Wei Wuxian said, “What else can we do? I’ll take him inside and throw him on the bed to sleep.”

Lan Wangji said, “Very well.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Huh? Weren’t you covering your ears? How come you can still hear me?”

This time Lan Wangji did not reply, still covering his ears tightly, as if it hadn’t been him who interjected just now. Wei Wuxian was both amused and exasperated, and said to Wen Ning: “Take care of yourself.”

Wen Ning nodded, couldn’t resist glancing at Lan Wangji one more time, and was about to retreat when Wei Wuxian called him back: “Wen Ning. You... maybe find a place to hide first.”

Wen Ning was taken aback. Wei Wuxian said: “You’ve died twice now, after all. Take a good rest.”

After he left, Wei Wuxian pulled away Lan Wangji’s hands, which were still covering his ears, and said: “Alright, he’s gone. No more sound, no more person to see.”

Lan Wangji finally let go of his hands; his pale eyes stared at him fixedly.

That gaze was too clear and righteous, stirring up a surging desire for mischief in Wei Wuxian. Something seemed to ignite within him. He smiled slyly: “Lan Zhan, is it still: whatever I ask, you answer? Whatever I tell you to do, you do?”

Lan Wangji said: “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian said: “Take off your forehead ribbon.”

Lan Wangji indeed reached behind his head, slowly untied the band, and removed the white forehead ribbon embroidered with swirling cloud patterns.

Wei Wuxian took the forehead ribbon in his hand, turned it over and examined it closely for a while, then said, “It’s nothing special after all. I thought it held some earth-shattering secret. Then why were you so angry that time when I took it off?” Could it be that the Lan Wangji of back then simply detested him, detested everything about him?

Suddenly, he felt his wrist tighten. He saw Lan Wangji using the forehead ribbon to bind his two hands, slowly tying a knot.

Wei Wuxian said: “What are you doing?”

Wondering what Lan Wangji was up to, he let him carry on. Lan Wangji bound his hands tightly; first he tied a slipknot, then seemed to think it wasn’t right, untied it, and changed it to a dead knot. He still thought it wasn’t right, and tied another one.

The Gusu Lan Sect’s forehead ribbons have trailing streamers in the back, elegant and flowing when moving, very beautiful, and thus quite long. Lan Wangji tied seven or eight dead knots in a row, forming a chain of ugly little lumps, and only then stopped, satisfied.

Wei Wuxian said, “Hey, do you still want this forehead ribbon or not?”

Lan Wangji’s brow relaxed. He lifted the other end of the ribbon, pulling Wei Wuxian’s hand up to his eyes, as if admiring his own great masterpiece. Wei Wuxian’s hand was hoisted up by him; he thought: “I look like a prisoner... Wait, why am I playing along with him like this? Isn’t it supposed to be me playing him?”

Suddenly jolting awake, Wei Wuxian said, “Untie me.”

Lan Wangji readily reached out, once again heading for Wei Wuxian’s collar and sash. Wei Wuxian said: “Not that! Untie this one on my hands, untie this thing you tied me with — this forehead ribbon.”

If Lan Wangji stripped him and tied his hands with the ribbon, the image was simply too horrifying to imagine!

Lan Wangji, hearing his request, furrowed his brows again and remained motionless for a long while. Wei Wuxian held up his bound hands to show him, coaxing: “Didn’t you say you’d listen to me? Untie this for gege. Be good.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, then calmly averted his gaze, as if he couldn’t understand what Wei Wuxian was saying and needed some time to ponder. Wei Wuxian flared: “Oh, I get it! When I tell you to tie me up, you’re full of energy; when I tell you to untie, you suddenly can’t understand, right?”

The material of the Lan clan’s forehead ribbons is the same as their clothing. It looks light and airy, but is actually extremely durable. Lan Wangji had tied it very tightly, with a long string of dead knots. Wei Wuxian twisted left and right but couldn’t break free, thinking: “This is truly lifting a rock only to drop it on my own foot. Lucky it’s the forehead ribbon and not some Immortal-binding rope or whatever, else he’d have me bound hand and foot.”

While gazing into the distance, Lan Wangji held the ribbon’s end, pulling and shaking it, playing with it cheerfully. Wei Wuxian pleaded pitifully: “Untie it for me, okay? Hanguang-jun, a person as ethereal as you, how can you do this? What are you going to do with me tied up? How bad will it look if someone sees? Hm?”

At the last sentence, Lan Wangji started pulling him out of the grove.

Wei Wuxian was dragged along, stumbling as he said: “Wait wait wait. I meant it would be bad if someone saw, not that you should show this to someone. Hey! Are you pretending you don’t understand? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You only understand what you want to understand, is that it? Lan Zhan! Lan Wangji!”

Before his words died, Lan Wangji had already dragged him out of the grove, circled back to the street, and re-entered the main hall from the first-floor entrance of the tavern.

The group of juniors was still eating, drinking, and fooling around. Although there had been a little unpleasantness just now, young people always forget it quickly. They were in the middle of a lively drinking game, and some bold Lan juniors were trying to sneak sips of wine, always keeping an eye on the second-floor staircase as lookouts to avoid being discovered by Lan Wangji. None of them expected that Lan Wangji would suddenly appear through the front door, which they hadn’t guarded against, dragging Wei Wuxian along. When they turned their heads, each and every one was stunned.

Clatter clang — Lan Jingyi scrambled to hide the wine cups on the table, knocking over several dishes along the way. It had no concealing effect at all; instead, it only made the object they wanted to hide more conspicuous. Lan Sizhui stood up and said: “Han—Hanguang-jun, how did you come back in from this side...”

Wei Wuxian laughed: “Haha, your Hanguang-jun felt too warm sitting around, came out to enjoy the night breeze, and decided on a whim to launch a surprise inspection. Sure enough, he’s caught you all sneaking drinks.”

Inwardly he prayed, please let Lan Zhan just drag him straight upstairs, not talk to anyone, and not make any unnecessary moves. As long as he continued saying nothing, maintaining a frosty facade, no one would notice anything amiss.

Just as he thought that, Lan Wangji pulled him right over to the juniors’ table.

Lan Sizhui was aghast: “Hanguang-jun, your forehead ribbon...”

Before he could finish, he saw Wei Wuxian’s hands.

Hanguang-jun’s forehead ribbon was tied around Wei Wuxian’s wrists.

As if fearing that not enough people had noticed this, Lan Wangji lifted the end of the ribbon, raised Wei Wuxian’s hands, and displayed them for all to see.