Chapter Text
Jiang Cheng had been telling himself that the curse was not affecting his cultivation. He’d stepped back from training the disciples, feeling guilty about letting their touch alleviate his symptoms, and there really wasn’t much cultivation otherwise involved in leading a sect. He didn’t feel a difference when he called his sword, and he hadn’t been getting up in the middle of the night to shred bags of sawdust with Zidian like he usually did.
As he got over the middle of the lake, it became apparent that his cultivation was not as it usually was. He’d been pushing, shooting ahead of the Jin disciple, when suddenly his vision went grey. He pulled back on his speed and managed to stay on his sword, but when his sight cleared, he was hovering just over the surface of the water, the waves lapping at Sandu’s blade.
He’d been having so much trouble separating the real world from his dreams, and suddenly he was four or five, and he’d swum out too far in the lake during the swimming lessons his A-Die lead for the baby disciples.
Jiang Cheng knew how already. He didn’t need A-Die’s help.
He was getting so tired, though, and he couldn’t move his little arms and legs to come back to the pier. He was more surprised than scared, as he slid under the gentle waves and looked up at the sunny surface of the water. Then A-Die’s hand pierced the water, and Jiang Cheng was breaching the surface and he could breathe again, sort of. There was the same heaviness in his lungs.
Li Hua finally caught up to him, and hovered at his elbow, arm outstretched but not quite touching. “Sect Leader?” he asked, in a tone of voice that suggested that he would absolutely dive into the lake after Jiang Cheng, but would prefer not to.
“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng told him, summoning a little of his signature brusqueness. He could still fly, he thought, just not that fast.
The Jin disciple executed a flashy turn and swooped down to join them hovering above the surface of the lake. “Sect Leader Jiang?” he asked. “Do you need to share a sword?”
“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and resisted the urge to steady himself on Li Hua’s arm. “I’m fine, just - the wind. We’d better slow down a little.”
“Of course, Sect Leader Jiang,” the Jin disciple said, sounding remarkably un-urgent, which Jiang Cheng completely failed to notice. He and Li Hua picked up a bit of altitude and fell into the V-formation usually used with disciples who were just learning to fly and couldn’t quite be trusted not to tire themselves out too quickly. If Jiang Cheng had been himself, he would have taken point, but…
He fell in behind the Jin disciple. By the time they’d cleared the lake, his head was swimming again, but…
A-Ling.
He was having trouble maintaining the altitude he needed to clear the trees. There was a flash of gold through the foliage, and Jiang Cheng dropped down, whipping through the underbrush, and…
“Jin Ling!”
Everything was blurring around him. He needed to…
Distantly, he heard Jin Ling call out for him, and…
Someone else got there first. “Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, and his face swam into view. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t seem scared to touch Jiang Cheng. His hands slid under Jiang Cheng’s elbows, and when Jiang Cheng’s knees buckled at the relief of someone touching him, Wei Wuxian slid down to the ground with him.
“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng said again, and Jin Ling’s worried face also appeared in his rapidly narrowing vision. He looked alright, the little rat.
“Jiujiu, what’s the matter?” Jin Ling shouted, and Jiang Cheng should have told him to lower his voice and not spit when he spoke. Instead he kept sinking down to the forest floor, Wei Wuxian holding his forearms and Jin Ling supporting his head. “Someone help him!”
Everything was going grey and narrowing again, but Jiang Cheng finally, finally felt warm where his brother was touching him. Just before everything went completely dark, he felt Wei Wuxian hoist him up, and then he was safe in his brother’s arms.
He didn’t dream, but when he woke up, someone was holding him. He couldn’t quite believe it, and so let himself rub his cheek against the warm arm under his head. When he exhaled, his insides felt less frozen, and the buzzing was going away.
“Are you awake, idiot melon?” Sun Yinuo asked him, and flicked him in the forehead.
“Yes, auntie,” Jiang Cheng mumbled, and the warm body behind him stirred and held him closer.
She stood with her hands on her hips. “All the disciples are supposed to see me after night hunts, Jiang Wanyin. And here I find that you have been cursed for the greater part of a season!”
“Sorry, auntie,” Jiang Cheng mumbled, as contritely as it was possible to mumble. He felt like he was about to be sent to kneel in front of the ancestral hall.
“There’s only one cure,” Sun Yinuo said, severely. “You will stay in bed with your shixiong until I let you out.”
Jiang Cheng had been trying to ignore that he was cuddling in bed with his brother. Sun Yinuo gave him another quelling look and bustled off to the other side of the screen, calling out to one of the civilians who came to Lotus Pier for treatment.
“So,” Wei Wuxian said, and companionably scratched his back. “A bit lonely?”
Jiang Cheng felt about thirteen, like he’d just been scolded by his mother for doing his absolute best and failing to keep up with his brother. Wei Wuxian was making fun of him, and then he’d just swan off back to Cloud Recesses and Jiang Cheng would be all alone again. “Shut up,” he tried to snap, but his voice just sounded watery.
“A-Cheng?” Wei Wuxian said, and yanked at his shoulder until he had no choice but to roll on his back. He’d done this many times when they were kids. “I…”
“Don’t bother,” Jiang Cheng snapped, somewhat undercut by his not being able to tear himself out of Wei Wuxian’s warm embrace. “I know you’re happier without me, you don’t have to help me, just go back to Cloud Recesses with that statue, and -”
“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling shouted and stomped in. He flopped down on the bed and grabbed one of Jiang Cheng’s still-cold hands in his, which felt - really good, actually. It made the pins and needles die down. “Stop yelling!”
Jiang Cheng grumbled, but he stopped shouting. “Thank you for your help,” he snapped, and burrowed down into the blankets.
Jin Ling squeezed his hand and cleared his throat. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he said, his nose going up in the air. Jiang Cheng had spent so much time dreaming about him as a little boy recently, and he looked the same now as he had when he was six and sitting on Jiang Cheng’s knee, explaining why, exactly, he needed extra fresh mango after dinner.
“I know you and your little friends were drinking at the conference,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “If you want to be subtle, don’t drink with main family Lans.”
“Jiujiu, Jingyi is twenty - ugh, nevermind. Wei Wuxian has been staying with me in Lanling,” Jin Ling said, and squeezed Jiang Cheng’s hand again.
Jiang Cheng wanted so much to be angry at the two of them. He was so jealous that the two of them had been together without him that he almost choked on it. But as much as he’d pretended, he could never really be angry at Jin Ling.
“That’s good,” he said, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over glass. “I’m - glad.” And he was. He was happy if his nephew wasn’t alone like he was.
Jin Ling reached over and flicked him in the forehead. “Because he missed you, you stupid -” He realized he was shouting and stopped, clearing his throat. “And I missed you.” He turned to Wei Wuxian, a storm on his face. “Tell him it’s true.”
Jiang Cheng had managed to go through this whole conversation without actually looking at Wei Wuxian. He sat up in the infirmary bed and finally glanced over at his brother.
“Ahaha,” Wei Wuxian said, and reached his stupid stork arm up to scratch the back of his neck, his sleeve sliding down his forearm. Jiang Cheng was somewhat relieved to note that they were both still wearing their shirts and pants. “Well, at first it was because all my things were there,” he said, looking away from Jiang Cheng.
“It’s been two years,” Jin Ling said, an exasperated fondness in his voice that Jiang Cheng was very familiar with, because it was usually him directing it at Jin Ling. “He visits me when he needs to get out of Cloud Recesses.”
Jiang Cheng crossed his arms and tried to mumble a response. He wasn’t completely sure what he said, but it definitely included the words “your perfect Hanguang-jun.”
Wei Wuxian sighed and looked over at Jin Ling. Jiang Cheng started to feel very much like a child whose parents were trying to explain to him where babies came from. He was the adult here, thank you very much.
Before he could say so, Wei Wuxian went on. “Lan Zhan is perfect, of course,” he said, and slouched down on the bed so that his shoulder rested more fully against Jiang Cheng’s. Jiang Cheng leaned into him more fully but only because of the curse. “But you know how I was at the lectures. I’m not a different person now. And they’re all so Lan about me being the Yiling Patriarch. I can hardly turn a corner without someone screaming.”
“And it’s better in Lanling?” Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but asking.
Jin Ling sniffed. “We may be Jins, but we’re not village idiots,” he snorted. “We understand there’s some complexity in the world. People are more confused he didn’t try to make any money.”
“And they’ve got booze,” Wei Wuxian added, obviously trying to cut the tension. It didn’t work. They sat in silence for a minute, all a bit sorry for themselves.
“You’ve been drinking that horrible Lanling stuff?” Jiang Cheng just couldn’t let it pass. They’d both teased Jiang Yanli to death about having to drink the wine in Lanling before she got married. It was just too damn sweet.
“Hey!” Jin Ling started, and Sun Yinuo shoved back the screen.
“Sect Leader, I need your bed,” she said. “Take these two back to your quarters and I’ll check on you later.”
“Yes, auntie,” they all chorused.
Jin Ling had gotten tall, Jiang Cheng realized, as his nephew half-carried him back to his rooms. He’d tried to insist he could walk there on his own, but there had been a brief moment where nobody had been touching him, and the pain had rushed back like thrusting a frozen limb into hot water. Apparently Jiang Cheng had made some kind of noise about it. Jin Ling had threatened to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder, and this was their compromise.
Wei Wuxian disappeared, and Jiang Cheng tried not to resent him. It was just like his brother to swoop in heroically and then disappear in the aftermath. Jiang Cheng should have expected -
“A-Ling!” Wei Wuxian called from outside the door.
“Use your qi, you idiot!” Jin Ling called back.
“Right, I forgot,” Wei Wuxian answered, and let himself in with a tray containing all Jiang Cheng’s favorites. “Kitchen Popo is still alive! She’s upset with you, A-Cheng.”
“I can tell,” Jiang Cheng said, sitting up higher in bed. He pulled his hand out of Jin Ling’s without thinking, to reach for the tray, and -
He hissed.
Wei Wuxian handed Jin Ling the tray and flopped down over on Jiang Cheng’s shins, grinding his bony ribs on Jiang Cheng’s bony legs. Didn’t Lan Wangji feed him, Jiang Cheng wondered, trying not to tear up. It felt so much like what they’d done as children, and Jiang Cheng had missed it so much.
“You’re killing him!” Jin Ling yelped, and there was another scuffle as both of them tried to throw themselves on top of Jiang Cheng.
“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng tried to hiss, but he was crying a little.
“Killing him!” Jin Ling succeeded in hissing, and pulled his heavily embroidered sleeve down, revealing a more comfortably embroidered inner layer, which he used to dab at Jiang Cheng’s face with surprising gentleness.
“Why do you know how to do that?” Wei Wuxian asked, now fully in Jiang Cheng’s lap, with his arms around his neck. Jiang Cheng had dreamed about carrying him like this once, when they were young and stupid and Wei Wuxian had twisted his ankle rolling off a roof. Neither of them had been able to stop giggling, which was not the case now. Wei Wuxian was looking at him with solemn dark eyes, like Jiang Cheng crying was making him want to cry.
“I’m a sect leader!” Jin Ling said, defensively. This shouldn’t have been an answer, except for how often people started crying in the presence of their sect leader. Before the curse, Jiang Cheng had wiped quite a few tears from frustrated, homesick or injured disciples, as well as the civilians he’d saved.
“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said, getting himself back under control. “It was just the curse.”
Jin Ling looked between them and then stood up, snapping his sleeves. “I’m taking a walk,” he said, and stormed out.
Wei Wuxian nodded and let him go. This, more than anything else, convinced Jiang Cheng that he really had been spending time with Jin Ling. When Jiang Cheng was upset, Wei Wuxian would always come charging after him and simply bear whatever horrible things Jiang Cheng said to him before his temper cooled off. Jin Ling liked to have some time alone when he was upset, probably so he didn’t say whatever nonsense was in his head when he was angry.
They sat quietly. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say. He looked up and met Wei Wuxian’s eyes.
For a second, Wei Wuxian just looked at him, like he would have when they were younger, when they could have a full conversation without opening their mouths. Are you lonely? Wei Wuxian seemed to ask it with his eyes and answer his own question with the quirk of his mouth. Of course you are, you were already lonely before I was gone.
“I’m sorry,” he said, at the same time Jiang Cheng said “I’m fine.”
Wei Wuxian pursed his lips. “A-Cheng,” he said, sounding very exasperated-older-sibling, even if his voice wasn’t quite the same. “You’re not fine.”
“Of course I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng mumbled. He couldn’t quite work himself up to angry, he was just too tired. Wei Wuxian was still sitting sideways in his lap and he was supposed to be maintaining contact to feel better, so he let himself fall forward and rested his forehead against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. Wei Wuxian put his arm around him and hugged him again, making them something like the eight-limbed swamp monster they’d played at being as children. “I have to be fine, what else is there to do? I have to just…”
Jiang Cheng was crying again, but tried to pretend he wasn’t. He’d always been an easy crier, one of his worst qualities. I missed you so much, he wanted to say, but didn’t. He’d said it two years ago, not in so many words, and…
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t here,” Wei Wuxian said, and Jiang Cheng wanted to say good, you understand your greatest crime, but with Jin Ling gone, he couldn’t stop himself from practically sobbing on Wei Wuxian’s chest. Ge, I’m so lonely, he wanted to say, but couldn’t.
Wei Wuxian scritched at the back of his neck. “Uncle Jiang always used to say there was no point apologizing if you didn’t fix what you were doing. If you let me, I’ll fix it.”
Jiang Cheng still couldn’t bring himself to speak, to show how weak and shaky his voice was. He nodded, and closed his eyes.
Jiujiu’s room was suspiciously quiet when Jin Ling came back from sticking his head in the lake and screaming. Either Jiujiu and Wei Wuxian had finally murdered each other, or…
For a long time, Jin Ling had been the only person left alive who had known that Jiujiu was a very clingy sleeper. When he was little and he had nightmares, he could crawl in with Jiujiu and be squeezed back to sleep. There was no such thing as too close for Jiujiu.
Jiujiu was asleep when Jin Ling slid the door to his chambers open. He had wound himself around Wei Wuxian like a python and had one hand fisted in his shirt so hard that the fabric had ripped.
He looked younger asleep, Jin Ling thought. Still grumpy, but younger. Jin Ling sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand on Jiujiu’s head.
“Is he okay?” he asked Wei Wuxian.
“I think the three of us should go nighthunting more often,” Wei Wuxian said, which was not the unqualified yes Jin Ling had been hoping for. “Ah, Lingling.”
Some comforting advice often followed an ‘ah, Lingling,’ but that didn’t seem like the case today. Wei Wuxian looked down at Jiujiu, who was holding him so hard his knuckles were white, even though he was also drooling a little and so was definitely asleep.
“I think -” Wei Wuxian said, and trailed off, which he was prone to doing. “I’m glad you’re friends with Jingyi and A-Yuan and the Ouyang boy,” he said. “Stay friends with them, hey?”
Six Months Later
The morning after his little curse incident, Jiang Cheng had woken up absolutely mortified. He’d been carried in half-unconscious right through afternoon training. Sun Yinuo had dragged all the senior disciples in to also screen them for curses, and he was the only one who had gone around for nearly four months with a curse that made him sad.
He’d yelled at Wei Wuxian, which he’d been trying not to do since Wei Wuxian came back to life, and then he’d gone and cried again, in the ancestral hall, because he wasn’t going to be able to dream about A-Jie anymore and he missed her so much. He didn’t know if he could go back to the way things had been before the curse, but what choice did he have?
Wei Wuxian was kneeling outside the hall when he finally stumbled out, and he followed Jiang Cheng to bed and crawled in with him, like he did when they were little. “I’ll come visit,” he said, which was much less of a promise than the ones he'd made before, but still seemed like too much to believe.
“Okay,” Jiang Cheng answered. What did he have to lose by agreeing?
That was then, this was now. Jiang Cheng had been lingering by the docks for most of the afternoon, waiting for Wei Wuxian’s boat to come in. He hadn’t dared to the first few visits, not quite believing they’d happen, but now…
“A-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian called, and hopped off the boat before the helmsman had a chance to moor. He did his usual baby-monkey hold on Jiang Cheng’s back. Jiang Cheng pretended to try to shrug him off and leaned into him instead.
They hadn’t talked, exactly. But Wei Wuxian was always at his most inventive and determined when he thought somebody needed him.
And Jiang Cheng did. He always had. He didn’t need a second-in-command - Li Hua was much better at that than Wei Wuxian had ever been - but he needed a friend so badly.
“I want to go swimming,” Wei Wuxian announced, and started to drag Jiang Cheng back towards Lotus Pier. It felt so vivid, like one of the dreams. “Oh wait, I got you something.”
When Wei Wuxian took his arm away, Jiang Cheng still had that split second of expecting to wake up and find that the world had gone cold. He paused and Wei Wuxian gave him a minute to collect himself, to remember that the sun was still shining and a warm breeze was still blowing and he was alive in the world. “What crime against good taste should I expect this time?” he asked, a beat too late, but the right words.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes sparkling, and started to hunt through his qiankun bag. Jiang Cheng tried not to smile. Maybe things could get better after all.