Second Time Around

Extras 7: 1987, Part II

Wei WuXian flopped into his room and onto his bed. Lan Zhan would frown upon seeing the now crumpled duvet; Wei WuXian was very glad his lover wasn't there to see it. He called up a butterfly and sent it flying with a message: 'I volunteered to spar with you tonight at 7PM in front of half the senior class. Lot's of bummed out people today.' Report cards were handed out during the lunch period; to stop the mumblings of 'my mom is gonna kill me!', he'd repeated his earlier offer to show off his sword skills (as in bamboo sword skills; the police frowned on real swords). A butterfly came winging back a while later: 'yes. Winner gets to do whatever he wants to the loser.' At the implied sexual connotation, he rearranged himself a bit more comfortably in his acid washed (and becoming so blessed they were practically saints at this point) jeans. 'In our room only and within reason' he sent back. He was not going to do Lan Zhan's chores.

Receiving the butterfly response 'agreed', he flipped over to stare at the cedar chest sitting under the window sill. He hadn't opened it in at least a century. The last time, he'd felt such a wave of homesickness and nostalgia and longing. Well... every time he opened the chest he felt that way. They had brought very few items from their sect lives with them as they traveled the world. They simply did not have the space, even using qiankun pouches and carts, to bring everything they wanted. But this chest.... This chest contained clothing he couldn't bear to part with. He slid off the bed and crawled over to the chest.

Opening the chest, he felt his own chest cracking open as well. Jiang YanLi's wedding dress lay neatly folded right on top. "ShiJie... I miss you so much. Always." Her daughter and two granddaughters had also worn the dress. Wei WuXian permanently borrowed it after the last wedding. Jiang YanLi must have known, as she usually did about his antics, because she casually reminded him to air it out every few centuries. And she gave him permission to have any future daughters he and Lan Zhan might adopt wear it.

She'd lived to a respectable ninety-three and had passed peacefully and serenely at a date and time of her own choosing, one hand holding Jin ZiXuan's, the other holding Jin RuLan's. To this day Wei WuXian wasn't sure if she'd stopped her own heart or if someone else in the room had done it for her. His best guess was that Jin ZiXuan had given one last gift to his beloved wife. The peacock waited until it was obvious Jiang YanLi was dead before he laid down with her, cradled her cooling body in his arms, and joined her in the afterlife.

Next to ShiJie's dress was a deep lilac outer robe that had last belonged to Jiang Cheng. Wei WuXian ran a finger over the delicate silk and let his tears flow. "I still can't believe you did that. You stupid piece of shit. Jerkwad. Asshole. Fart face."

***

At 178 years old Jiang WanYin's face was just starting to get lined and his hair had more than a few white streaks. He proudly sported a beard that fell from his chin to his belly button.

Lan XiChen's skin was far more lined and his hair was completely gray; he looked old as most strong cultivators his age did not. He had taken over a decade to come to terms with Meng Yao's betrayal and then found himself immediately betrothed and then wedded to Zhan LiLing, the same woman the elders had attempted to betroth to his brother. In that same decade, she had been married and widowed and bore three children. They lived in the same household for more than twenty years before she moved out of Cloud Recesses to live with her older son (who had returned to his father's sect). The childless Lan XiChen acknowledged a third cousin's son, Lan JingYi, as his heir. The youngster was a very good cultivator, despite his tendencies to emulate Wei WuXian's irreverence of The Rules; Lan XiChen privately felt the young man would shake up the sect for the betterment of all. He was right; only months after taking control, the wall of almost four thousand Rules was reduced to less than a thousand, all focused on the themes of 'this is what it means to be a good person'.