Red Sun

"That's certainly interesting", Wen Ruohan pronounced into space, dodging a momentary blow to the head from... himself. He really shouldn't have frightened Yiling Laozu when he was working on his talismans. Wen Ruohan sighs, remembering where — or rather, when — he is. The archery trial, the debating conference he cancelled in the present, but which definitely took place in the past-which-wasn't. He looks back at 'himself' from this time, contemptuous and spiteful, definitely discontented. And utterly narcissistic in his loneliness at the top. This 'he' is annoying. "Calm down", he says, pushing himself away, looking around everyone present with a commanding look, "I don't want to be here any more than you want to see me", he grins at everyone's confusion, "but I have more important things to do". Ignoring the commotion, the competition continues into the woods as he sees Yunmen Jiang's symbol light up, followed immediately after by a signal flare for help, he smiles. He needs to find his husband.

***

This can't be good, — was his fleeting thought as Wen-zongzhu startled him, and the brush in his hand held a dark energy, messing up the line of the character, and he felt the power. Three seconds later, writhing in the light and standing on his feet instead of sitting, he was convinced. Wei Ying was sure he was cursed. It would explain so much in his life. So-so much. He watches the other him (younger; truly young, not a soul who has stolen someone's place; more perky; more alive) prepare to grab Lan Wangji's ribbon. Embarrassment is the only thing that makes him squeeze the hand of 'himself', appearing out of nowhere, and attracting the gazes, so many-many eyes. Wei Ying forces himself to remain calm as he indifferently notices: "If you don't want to marry him, don't touch the ribbon", and this is the fact that Qing-jie told him, long ago, in his cave, healing his broken bones while he was babbling and talking nonsense. He was so embarrassed he thought he would burn; even Wen Ning laughed at him. And A-Yuan... don't think. Wei Ying looks at 'his' gray eyes, clear and bright, so far removed from his red ones, which he cannot remove because of the feeling of being in a crowd of enemies, and he is unarmed, and: "Demon!" shouts someone in white or yellow robes, honestly, Wei Ying can't make out those colors right now. He still clutches the hand of his sixteen-year-old-self, feels the wiry muscles under his clothes, looks at the tanned skin, and remembers again what he has turned himself into. (Wen Qing — not his Qing-jie — threatens to spoon-feed him unless he begins to eat at least twice a day and sleep more than two hours a night; Wen Ning worries about him, learning to cook dishes with lots of spicy spices for him; and Wen-zongzhu worries, but this man always worries about him — Wei Ying still cannot believe that anyone can praise him). He is calm when everyone is pointing their arrows at him (trap, trail, blood), he is even glad that his dizi is not with him. He smiles at these children, letting go of the hand of the other 'self', who immediately retreats to his shidi, which drags him back by his robes. He does not raise his hands in surrender, but deftly hides the shiver in his long sleeves. "I ended up here by mistake", he shakes his shoulder to the side as one of the Jins shoots at him, an arrow flying past; he'd hate to ruin these clothes, they cost a fortune; "if you'll let me", and it's a joke, because he exposes little more of his ruined self; he sees his grin make these children flinch, "I will go away, and we will never see each other again". (He does not deny that he is a demon.) Someone behind him fires a flare for help into the air — Wei Ying sighs, rolling red eyes, he feels so old.

***

"Let me get this straight", Lan Qiren begins, and pain seeps behind his eyes as the conference pauses and the two non-demons are in a circle of cultists pointing their swords and bows at them, "are you both from... another world?" The one who looks exactly like Cangse Sanren's child (even more so, because his hair is loose like hers) raises a finger upward, like a teacher who is used to correcting others: "An alternate dimension, to be exact, because I believe we are within the same range of the same world, just..." he looks at the second Wen sect leader as if referring to him as a distinguishing trait, "...because of circumstances", and the second Wen Ruohan smiles at this with one corner of his lips, "we got here without our intention. But don't worry, we'll leave as soon as someone kindly lends us mascot paper and cinnabar?" he smiles almost as much as Wei Wuxian, but something is missing there. The sincerity or innocence inherent in all young minds. To his right flaps the fan, when Lan Qiren already feels a long-playing migraine, it is worth Jin Guangshan opening his mouth: "And why, may I ask, did you end up together?" is undeniably a curious question, but not the most important one, especially if these people can leave right now, when Lan Wangji hands them the requested items. The second Wen Ruohan's smile is carnivorous and proud. "Oh", and it sounds like a laugh that makes Lan Qiren's eyebrow twitch, "we're married". Lan Wangji drops the objects from an even place, but the other Wei Wuxian deftly catches them, looking disgruntled at his... husband? "What the fuck?!" exclaims Jiang Wanyin in the silence of their field, grabbing the first Wei Wuxian by the arm and pushing behind him, deliberately so as to keep the two Wen Ruohan in his sight (in fairness, their Wen sect leader looks no less surprised than they do), and Lan Qiren does not even find the strength to scold the young man for his inappropriate words. There is a weary breath; the kind that an immortal being, tired of the antics of humans, might let out as the second Wei Wuxian sits down at a vacant table; his black robes (he can see now, they have a sun-shaped gold pattern on them) have fallen elegantly into the dust. "Did you have to say that?" he grumbles, pouring out the requested cinnabar and slashing his wrist with the sharp tip of his brush, filling the contents of the vial. He waves his hand, and his golden core works proactively, healing the shallow cut. They all ignore the visible scars, flashed for a moment. The second Wen Ruohan, who is supposed to be a demon, chuckles with more kindness to his interlocutor than to the rest of the world: "If I could, I would talk about it from every rooftop and mountain I would meet", so shamelessly, so bluntly, so forcefully; perhaps today is the day when Lan Qiren will meet his forefathers because of the deflection of qi. "Please, don't", the second Wei Wuxian says quickly, as if accustomed to this kind of talk without distracting himself from his work. Wen Ruohan... this Wei Wuxian's husband, chuckles, the closest thing to a normal laugh that anyone here has ever heard from this man. "That's exactly why I don't do it", and it doesn't sound like a favor; purely as a concern. Lan Qiren stops herself halfway through her speech as she begins to repeat Jiang-gongzi's words: "What the f—"

***

"Is something wrong?" grated the silence between his work, Yiling Laozu, as Wen Ruohan stood beside him, pondering. They both prefer to ignore those around them, because they have always found delusions in both of them. "Wondering the same eternal question, Yiling Laozu", he chuckles, a little closer to his youth than his true age. "I can't figure out what captivates me more about you: your kindness or your genius?" Yiling Laozu doesn't roll his eyes, but close to it, his red eyes not distracted from the mascot painting. "You only said that to embarrass me, Wen-zongzhu", Yiling Laozu replies with a voice closer to his trademark teasing than to falseness over indifference. "Did I succeed?" clarifies Wen Ruohan, and the rubies in his earrings tinkle as he turns his head toward his husband. Yiling Laozu laughs quietly, his frail shoulders shaking slightly from it, the smile he bestows on his husband full of honest weariness and genuine tenderness, like a summer wind on a sultry day. "Try another day and maybe I'll answer, Wen-zongzhu".   They're flirting, oh gods, they're flirting right in front of us, — goes through the minds of everyone present.