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Chapter Text

Lan Zhan surveys the crowds, the thousands of people gathered under one roof tonight for the final concert of the Burial Mounds. The cheers are thunderous, shaking the ground beneath him and then the usual clapping starts, a stamping of feet raucously requesting their signature encore.

He hasn't played for the band these past few years, letting SiZhui take over from him, both in the lead guitar and the lyrics, the singing that Wei Ying used to do. It's so painful to think about the man he's missing, has missed for each and every single day of these past thirteen years. Now Lan Zhan’s role is more of an unofficial manager rather than the hands on position the group needed him to be, back at the start of their success.

He and Wei Ying had such dreams, high hopes that swung between the stars, a life on the road playing from venue to venue, just like this. Just like tonight.

But here he is, so painfully alone and missing the other half of his soul.

The stage is dark, but not for much longer. 

Wen Qing, their pianist and quick-fingered keyboard player, Wen Ning, the quietly unassuming kick-ass drummer, and Uncle Four, a nickname he's never been able to shake, all need a break, even if it's only a fast five minute deal. SiZhui, their lead singer and guitar player, will bring them back as soon as possible, after a change of clothes and rehydration. He's been introducing his friends to play sometimes, and Wen Qing says that's good; the more kids joining up means they can retire that much faster. The Burial Mounds is an institution now, built on the success of brilliant song writing and punch-to-the-gut melodies intended to stay in the minds of their listeners.

Excitement thrums under his skin. Lan Zhan can see the shining dark irises of hundreds of eyes all diligently staring at the stage, willing the band to come back that much faster.

He turns then, glad of his anonymity still. The newer fans don't even know who he is; that's why Lan Zhan can pretty much go wherever he likes without being recognised. He's been thirsty all day, and yet one thing after another stopped him going to the bar just outside the seating area to pick up the two bottles of the Cloud Recesses mineral water. 

This tradition is one deeply rooted inside his heart and he never ever fails to do it. One bottle for himself and one bottle for Wei Ying. It doesn't matter that half of  these bottles aren't drunk. They always end up on Lan Zhan’s bedside table, every night being the last thing he sees before going to sleep, after every single concert. Without fail. Today has just been unusually busy for him, but he thinks he can make a quick trip before the band gets back. His favourite place to watch his son is always from the sidelines.

But Lan Zhan has lingered too long.

The deafening roar of thousands of fans erupts and the brilliant lights blaze from the stage. 

If he moves, people will notice him. The stewards and bouncers all around him wait, noticing his lanyard with his ID, and they leave him be.

SiZhui's voice rings out, loud and clear, full of anxious excitement. 

“Hey everyone, thank you for waiting for us! You have to know by now, we love you, our fans! You guys are INCREDIBLE!” He draws it out, grinning at the sea people who are shouting back at him in encouragement. “And since this is our last night before we take a break, we thought it would be fitting to set a different tone for the last song. See, some of you may not be familiar with how our band started, all those years ago.” 

Lan Zhan sees SiZhui turn slightly to glance at his aunt, Wen Qing, who gives him a quick nod. He catches Wen Ning's eyes and receives a thumbs up. He checks the wing where Lan Zhan would normally be, and he masks his surprise at his father's absence remarkably well, turning back towards the crowd.

What are they going to do? This isn't normal, Lan Zhan thinks, the first stirrings of panic humming in his veins. This is definitely straying from the set list.

“I was going through some old notebooks at our house,” SiZhui continues, totally unaware of the chilling sweat that has Lan Zhan fixed in place, a few hundred  feet away. “And I found a forgotten song. My dad wrote it for my other dad, and I remember them singing me to sleep with this one, when I was just a kid. I have two dads, one of them is with me, but my other dad, he went missing thirteen years ago. I just–” his voice cracks, and it breaks Lan Zhan’s heart. He knows exactly which song SiZhui wants to share. SiZhui clears his throat and continues, even though everyone can see this is an emotional moment for him. “I just want him to know, both of them, that no matter where you are, I love you. I will always miss you.”

Their son, who belongs equally to Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, begins playing the song that Lan Zhan never wrote down the title for. Only his heart knows the name of this one.

Lan Zhan closes his eyes and remembers the vibrant boy, the stealer of his heart, a red ribboned prodigy with lightning fast fingers and a formidable talent for being able to play any song, anywhere, any time.

Wei Ying, he thinks desperately, where are you?

*****************

Mo XuanYu had arrived a few minutes late tonight, and the stadium was just beginning to fill up with crazy fans. 

“Ha ha!” Steve shouts at him, as soon as he sees him. “I got here before you! You get to hug the speakers tonight!” He's a steward, just like Mo XuanYu, but it's an unspoken rule that latecomers lose all position privileges.

Mo XuanYu grins at him, giving him finger guns. “Makes no difference to me, Pal. I actually prefer it!” And whistling as he walks away, he goes to claim his spot by the stage.

He got this job by sheer luck, his roommate getting him in with management, and because he prefers late nights, it works out excellently for him. It's best to keep busy, otherwise the headaches start, and that's a surefire way to pass out. Those bills won't pay themselves, and so Mo XuanYu knows better than anyone else not to spend time thinking.

Tonight is going to be fun, he thinks. It's the last night this band is going to play here, and there's a bittersweet feeling in the air. They'll come back in another year with a new album and new songs, and maybe it'll be the same, but for now it's nice to enjoy the camaraderie between the stage hands and the stadium staff as they work together to put on the show. There's always a familiar kinship between those that work behind the scenes to help the band, a unity of shared experiences that brings everyone together every night. 

A microphone drops by his foot and Mo XuanYu picks it up, handing it back to the stagehand who shyly thanks him. His silver grey eyes look familiar, but he bows and walks away quickly, and Mo XuanYu sees him blending in with the other crew members with his black uniform t-shirt and trousers, and the cap pulled low over his face. People come and go in the industry and it's hard to keep track of them.

Mo XuanYu knows that when he gets to leave after all the doors are locked and the venue is empty of spectators and cleaning staff at last, he will be able to walk down to the hotpot place and get a cheap dinner sitting around folks in the music business. He's always enjoyed their stories, about crazy fans and the lengths they will go to, to meet their idols. He hopes nothing too outrageous happens tonight - the lead singer of this band is just a kid, albeit a sweet one, and he's got his fair share of groupies. Mo XuanYu has a lot of experience of having to physically remove the too enthusiastic ones after they've crossed lines not meant to be.

The entire show goes ahead without a hitch, and Mo XuanYu is surprised because by now, at least one person would have had to be escorted out, either for heat exhaustion, because it gets really hot among the swathe of bodies jumping up and down, and people are never well enough prepared for that, or for overstepping the tiny barriers meant to keep them back from the stage.

The lights come on just before the last act, and Mo XuanYu blinks fast, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. Someone starts a fan chant and then he grins at the contagious excitement that rips through the crowd. They begin screaming and stamping their feet, in the hopes of their cacophony reaching their beloved band and enticing them out that much faster.

A man dressed the same as the crew walks past Mo XuanYu, and there's something annoyingly familiar about him. Maybe it's the way he's walking, tall and full of confidence, or…no, what was that smell? Is it a perfume? Aftershave?

It reminds Mo XuanYu of temples and incense and things that should not be remembered. His head starts to pound, and goosebumps break out all over his bare arms. He got a tattoo once, when he must have been drunk, because even he cannot recall why it's a white ribbon tied around his wrist with pale blue clouds swirling on the centrepiece. 

Someone must be smoking outside because the smell of tobacco drifts in towards him as the stranger pauses, looking up and all around them. He's so close to Mo XuanYu, and then, the lights go out before he can think too much. But his headache doesn't go away.

Only about twenty more minutes, Mo XuanYu tells himself, and he knows it's a lie. But he also knows that once the pounding in his head starts, it'll only get worse and he just has to hang on for a bit longer before he can escape. 

The lead singer comes onto the stage and the crowd goes wild for it, only quieting down when he starts speaking to them.

“Hey everyone, thank you for waiting for us! You have to know by now, we love you, our fans! You guys are INCREDIBLE!” He draws it out at the end, grinning at the sea people who are shouting back at him in encouragement. “And since this is our last night before we take a break, we thought it would be fitting to set a different tone for the last song. See, some of you may not be familiar with how our band started, all those years ago.” 

Mo XuanYu glances up at the huge screens on either side of the massive stage production, in awe of this kid who doesn't look more than eighteen years old, but he sounds so confident while he's talking to this many people. It must help that he knows they're his fans but still, the pressure to not let them down must be immense. He reminds Mo XuanYu of the guy that walked past him a few moments ago. But whoever he was, he belongs here according to his lanyard, and Mo XuanYu tries to focus on what's going on around him. It's not too late for something unexpected to still happen, and he must be vigilant. 

The headache digs in, pulsing at his temple. Before the night is out, it's going to shift right behind his eyes, and he can already feel that this one's going to be a bitch. He feels around in his pocket but, oh god, he's forgotten his heavy duty painkillers. He can see them in his mind's eye, on the shelf next to his keys. Mo XuanYu grabbed one of the things and left the other, and then it was too late to go back and think about whatever he forgot to bring with him.

He's regretting it now though.

“I was going through some old notebooks at our house,” the lead singer  continues, “And I found a forgotten song. My dad wrote it for my other dad, and I remember them singing me to sleep with this one, when I was just a kid. I have two dads. One of them is with me, but my other dad, he went missing thirteen years ago. I just–” his voice cracks, but he tries again after clearing his throat, even though everyone can see this is an emotional moment for him. “I just want him to know, both of them, that no matter where you are, I love you. I will always miss you.”

The notes ring out, haunting and crystal clear. Each one pierces Mo XuanYu right in his heart and he staggers back, clutching his head. Why?? Why does this hurt so much? 

He can see intense golden eyes staring back at him, even when his own eyes close fast, trying to block out the pain. The melody wakes something in his head and he cries out, the noise drowned out by the song. It surrounds him, enveloping his body and he can't get away from the images in his head as his temples throb and blood pumps faster from his heart.

A little silver-eyed boy runs towards him, shouting, “Xian-Gege, Xian-Gege! I love you,” and then his own voice shouting out full of joy, “A-Yuan, come here!  A-Yuan, I love you, too!”

Mo XuanYu stumbles back, head reeling, bent over in excruciating pain. He's seeing stars bursting in his head, and another voice telling him sincerely, “Wei Ying, I love you.”

His back hits a solid wall of muscle and strong arms steady him, grabbing one of his wrists.

Mo XuanYu blinks up painfully, staring into brilliant golden eyes looking back at him in shock. His head aches so much now that the intense pounding pierces his consciousness, making his vision dark around the edges.

“Wei Ying??!”

It's the last thing he hears before the blessed darkness takes him away.

****************

A/N

Oh my God, I'm screaming!! In my head!! I literally thought of this in the morning, in the early hours of it and I had to get up right away to start writing. I've always wanted to write an amnesia au but I couldn't think of an original way to do it, and I was tired of reading Wei Ying waking up in hospital without a clue of who he is. And then this happened!! So here we are!

I'm so excited for the next bit!

See you soon, and reading wise, I'm on Book 2.

All my love,

Charlie

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

Chapter Text

He's got so many questions. Lan Zhan stares back at this face, older now than he remembers, but still belongs to his beloved Wei Ying. 

As the song comes to an end, the pin-drop silence before the ecstatic screams of the crowd jolts Lan Zhan into action. He picks Wei Ying up, cradling him close to his chest, and he begins moving towards the doors that lead to the Green Room. There's still a while before the band comes back, but he needs to get Wei Ying somewhere quiet where he can be examined. He knows something is wrong. 

Luckily, Lan Zhan catches the eye of a stagehand. 

“Get a paramedic. Green Room,” he tells her urgently as she nods, immediately running off to do that.

It hadn't gone unnoticed, the way Wei Ying’s face had clenched in pain, how his eyes, usually so bright with amusement, were confused instead. 

Or how he hadn't recognised Lan Zhan at all.

Worry worms its way into Lan Zhan’s heart as he enters the back passage behind the stage. The sound of the concert is muffled though he recognises that the band is announcing one last song before they say good night. That's a relief, because this situation is simply too huge to fit adequately in his mind, and Lan Zhan should be forgiven for needing a moment to himself. 

He uses his back to push open the door, helped by the security guard who holds it so Lan Zhan can enter safely. As it shuts behind him, Lan Zhan goes to the ratty couch hugging the wall and lays down his precious cargo. He checks that Wei Ying is still breathing and then he checks his temperature, making sure that outwardly at least, nothing is wrong.

But his mind can't get past one word: how?

How is this Wei Ying, here and now, with him? How is he dressed in the uniform of the stewards who regularly monitor the venue and have been doing it for the past ten days? Has Wei Ying been right here, under his nose so to speak, within reach all this time? What the fuck is going on??

Lan Zhan starts pacing, every few seconds pausing to make sure that it's really Wei Ying lying there. He hasn't moved at all, and just when Lan Zhan is considering going to look for the paramedics himself, the door opens and the green uniforms walk in, carrying cases of equipment. He watches as they move into fast action. There are three of them, two treating Wei Ying as they take his blood pressure and general condition, while the third interrogates Lan Zhan about the patient. 

Lan Zhan reports exactly what happened, making sure to add that Wei Ying looked to be in pain before he passed out.

The senior of the three stands up after a while, signing off on an online form. “We think it's better if he's admitted into hospital just to be safe. There might be internal injuries that need attention which can be overlooked if nothing is out of the ordinary on the outside.”

“I'm coming with him,” Lan Zhan tells him, fishing out his phone.

The next few minutes are spent with the paramedics organising transport to the waiting ambulance outside while Lan Zhan messages the group. He does not hide the truth of it, but he does try to soften the trauma of the situation, once the others find out. They'll be too shocked to attend their own farewell celebratory party tonight, but they'd be more upset with Lan Zhan if he wasn't forthcoming about finding Wei Ying in the first place. 

He's tense as the ambulance leaves the stadium grounds. Lan Zhan tells himself that there's no use speculating what might have happened to Wei Ying during these past thirteen years. Only Wei Ying will be able to say. He must be content that Wei Ying is healthy, and even if it's only on the outside, that he looks okay.

Once they reach the hospital, Wei Ying is whisked away to have tests done, leaving an anxious Lan Zhan pacing in a waiting room. Thankfully, it's in a quieter part of the emergency department, and nobody recognises him. People filter out until at last, he's on his own just waiting.

A good forty-five minutes later, the band arrives. SiZhui, Wen Qing and Wen Ning, Uncle Four with another young lady following a few feet behind them, a stranger to Lan Zhan. He watches her march to the reception even while he's reaching for his son. He hugs SiZhui hard, needing this contact with his family as he trembles.

“What happened? Where is he?” Wen Qing barks.

Lan Zhan reluctantly steps away from his son but his attention is divided between her and the mysterious woman by the desk. He motions towards the stranger.

“Just a moment, I believe that person is important. Forgive me for making you all wait,” he apologises, and goes over to the reception desk. 

“My friend is here,” the woman says, wringing her wrists and looking around anxiously. 

“Name?”

“Mo XuanYu. He's, uh, he's a steward. At the stadium. Same as me,” she points to her own uniform and the logo that matches what Wei Ying was wearing.

“Miss, I'm afraid it's only the family that will be allowed to see him,” the receptionist cautions her, typing away on her computer. “He's just gone in for more tests, so it'll be a while before I can give you an update.”

“But he doesn't have any fa–”

Lan Zhan calmly smiles at both of them and pulls this unfamiliar woman away. “Excuse us a moment,” he says, bringing the person with him towards the band. When they're out of earshot, he lets go of her, bowing apologetically. “I didn't mean to interrupt but if we say you are family, like us, they will let us meet with Wei Ying. I am trying to help you.” He adds that because she looks like she's  seconds away from walloping him.

“Who are you?” She demands, before her gaze lands on the rest of the band. “Oh, my God! Why are you here?” She's recognised them all.

“We should probably talk,” Lan Zhan replies at the same time that Wen Qing, spitting fire from her eyes, hisses at her, “We could ask you the same thing! Why are you calling Wei Ying by a different name?”

“That's his name!” She protests, pulling out a wallet with Mo XuanYu's identification inside it. 

Lan Zhan takes it from her, examining the photo of Wei Ying. It's definitely him. It's as if his thirst from earlier has returned but it's laser focused on Wei Ying. He wants to know everything about the man, from the smallest insignificant details to the big stuff. He wants to know what Wei Ying likes to eat in the morning and if he still prefers Emperor's Smile over all other alcoholic drinks. If he still douses his dishes in chilli oil. If that man on the other side of the section is still his Wei Ying. 

Wen Qing, always a stickler for authentication, grabs the ID and checks it thoroughly. She nods at Lan Zhan before giving it back.

“Who are you to Mo XuanYu?” the woman asks, frowning at them.

“We're his family. Wei Ying’s, not Mo XuanYu.” Wen Ning steps forward.

“Excuse me while I have, like, a moment,” she gapes at them. “All of this, it's kind of surreal. I mean, I just saw you guys performing at the stadium, and now you're here. Like, I can touch you–” she raises a hand as if she's actually going to touch SiZhui, and immediately Wen Qing and Lan Zhan are up in her face about it, creating a human barrier. SiZhui is pulled back by Uncle Four, who keeps a protective arm around his shoulders. 

“So how do you know Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan demands. He's not used to feeling so jittery about this. Waiting for news about Wei Ying’s condition is driving him up the wall, and this person with their insistence about calling him by another name is upsetting him. Nothing makes sense. 

“I see one of us has to be more forthcoming, otherwise we're gonna be going round and round in circles. I'm his roommate. Luo QingYang, but he insists on calling me Mianmian.” She grimaces at them. “My colleagues told me he collapsed, but do you know what happened to him?”

Lan Zhan quickly fills her in, and because everyone hears what he has to say, he knows he won't have to repeat himself. But he does turn to Wen Qing at the end of his explanation. “Qing-Jie, he didn't recognise me. That's what I don't understand.”

“You are a hundred percent sure he is your Wei Ying, then?” Luo QingYang asks him.

Lan Zhan studies her. There's something different in the way she's asking that question.  “Mn. I would know him anywhere. I am sure.”

“Then can you please do me a favour?” She lowers her voice and steps closer to both of them when Lan Zhan gives her a curt nod. “I can't risk making a phone call so I have to leave. I'll be back, but I need to talk to someone first. In the meantime, can you refrain from calling him anything other than Mo XuanYu? This is very important.”

“Why?” Wen Qing demands, narrowing her eyes at Luo QingYang. 

“I know we've just met, but you have to trust me. Once I get the okay, I'll tell you everything I can. But you must know, as long as he is Mo XuanYu, he's safe.”

“You have my word,” Lan Zhan promises her, ignoring Wen Qing spluttering beside him.

“Thank you. I'll be back as soon as I can.” Luo QingYang gives Lan Zhan a grateful smile and presses a card into his palm. “Call me if anything changes.”

“Mn.”

Wen Qing explodes as soon as she leaves. “What the fucking hell, Lan WangJi?? Are you out of your goddamn mind? Why the fuck are you making promises to a stranger? You don't know her! Fucking Fuckety Fuck!”

Lan Zhan yanks her into the female toilets, uncaring of the fact that he shouldn't be there at all. But there's nowhere else private enough for them to talk, and he sincerely hopes that the receptionist won't call security on them. He makes sure all the stalls are empty while Wen Qing taps her scary stiletto clad toe on the tiled floor, still fuming. But she's quick-witted enough to know that Lan Zhan has a reason.

When he's thoroughly satisfied that they're alone, Lan Zhan faces Wen Qing. “I think he's in Witness Protection.” He waits for that to sink in.

“Fuck!” Wen Qing starts pacing. “You think this has something to do with my uncle, right?”

“That was the last place Wei Ying was seen. Nightless City Corporation. It's the only thing I can think of. Why he must have stayed away from us.” Lan Zhan breathes out slowly, unclenching his fists. It feels good finally saying it out loud, even if they have to keep everything a secret still.

“That makes sense. A-Ying could never stay apart from you, even if me and A-Ning were a second thought. And A-Yuan. He must've thought he was keeping us safe by keeping away. Or his handlers must've told him that. But A-Zhan, my uncle and his no good sons were locked up twelve years ago after an anonymous tip off.”

“Mn?”

“Well, if they're rotting in prison, why the fuck is A-Ying still in hiding?”

*******************

More questions than answers, Lan Zhan thinks, as he tries to explain his theories to SiZhui, Wen Ning and Uncle Four. They're huddled as far away from the receptionist as possible, trying to talk things out quietly without raising suspicion. 

Worryingly, A-Yuan, SiZhui hasn't said anything at all. Lan Zhan knows this is a big shock to him, and maybe he's trying to process everything at once.

“SiZhui, why did you play that song?” He knows he doesn't have to clarify which one. It was the only one played that didn't feature on the original set list. 

“I was telling the truth on stage,” SiZhui says, unconsciously pouting. 

It's such a Wei Ying coded gesture that it causes a lump to form in Lan Zhan’s throat. He gently strokes SiZhui's hair, remembering when he was so much younger, just a toddler back then.

“I was looking through some of Dad's old notebooks, the ones you both shared. It reminded me of him. When I was a kid.” SiZhui blinks back tears. “Do you think–” he pauses to regain control of himself. “Was he happy these past few years? Did he think about us?”

“I don't know.” Lan Zhan can't be anything except honest.

Wen Qing scowls at him. “Of course that idiot thought about you. All of us, but especially you. And you can ask him yourself when he wakes up.” She pats SiZhui's head affectionately. 

No one says anything after that. They all take turns either sitting down or stretching their legs, and then Wen Ning takes SiZhui to the vending machine and they come back with water and snacks for everyone. When Lan Zhan sees the bottle of water, it's the hardest thing not to cry. It's the same brand that Wei Ying likes. Liked. 

Before this whole mess happened. 

He stares at the round clock hanging up high on the opposite wall, the only source of colour in a sea of white nothingness. The hands barely move between his glances.

******************

Three hours later, Luo QingYang storms in followed by five men with masks, all dressed in black and clearly armed. She looks pleased, which by itself, is concerning. One of the men draws the receptionist away, and then there's a suspicious thud behind the door leading to the other sections away from the main area.

Once they're alone, Luo QingYang addresses the band.

“I got permission. But we can't talk here, it's not safe. I'm taking you to a secure location.”

“I'm not leaving him,” Lan Zhan replies, planting his feet. He does not care, this is non-negotiable.

“Relax, he's coming with us. There are things we need to discuss and this is not the place to do it.” She gestures towards the doors. “When you walk out of here, you must do it like normal, as if you don't want to be recognised. My people are out there waiting to escort you to the minibus.” 

Even while she's speaking, all the uniformed men have disappeared past the closed door. Not even two minutes later, the same men come back carrying a stretcher between four of them. Lan Zhan recognises Wei Ying only because he's on the lookout for him, but all of them including Wei Ying are dressed differently from when they entered the other side. 

Wei Ying has a hospital gown on and an oxygen mask hiding his features, and they've covered part of him with a red hospital issued blanket, while the men carrying him are disguised as ordinary paramedics. But they are the same men who accompanied Luo QingYang not even five minutes ago wearing all black.

So this is happening, then.

It's such a strange situation and Lan Zhan can tell that his side of people are so curious about who Luo QingYang really is, because it's obvious from her sudden change in behaviour and confidence that she's exuding, that she's not a simple steward working a low paid job. Also, the band is quite gossipy by nature except Lan Zhan, and maybe that's why nobody is asking questions yet.

The band follows the paramedics outside where it's still in the early hours of the morning so hardly anyone is around. The emergency bays have two ambulances and the minibus Luo QingYang mentioned is parked there, waiting for them. The windows are tinted dark enough that they can't see inside.

“All of you in there, Mo XuanYu will follow us in the ambulance.” Luo QingYang says, quietly in charge.

“I'm staying with Wei–Mo XuanYu,” Lan Zhan replies, uncaring about what she thinks.

“But–” Luo QingYang protests.

“Let it go,” Wen Qing tells her, striding towards the minibus. The doors open automatically with a swoosh. “He's just found him. He won't let him out of his sight now. Might as well get used to it,” and she disappears inside as the others follow her in. 

Lan Zhan waits until Wei Ying’s gurney is secured inside, then with his long legs it's a small stretch for him to follow. Three disguised paramedics enter behind him while two close the doors of the ambulance and move around to the front. Moments later, the entire vehicle shudders into life with a grumbling engine, and then they're off.

Lan Zhan’s movements are restricted by his seat belt, but he leans forward anyway and reaches under the blanket to hold Wei Ying’s hand. It's cool to the touch, and he thinks Wen Qing was right; now that he has found Wei Ying, he's never going to let him go again, not if it's up to him.

*****************

Fifty minutes later, the ambulance slows down and its sluggish jolting motion wakes Lan Zhan from a helpless nap. Technically, he hasn't slept all night and his exhaustion is catching up to him. Gone are the days when he used to go to sleep by nine o'clock at night, and Wei Ying would tease him about it relentlessly. The band's performance schedule put an end to that routine ages ago, but if he could be honest, then it was Wei Ying’s disappearance which began the change in his routine. 

The heavy doors swing open and it's a team effort to bring Wei Ying out of the ambulance. A white dawn is breaking up above them, colourless clouds drifting across an ice blue expansive sky. Away in the distance, saffron threads streak over an empty canvas, ready to paint the coming day.

Lan Zhan looks around and sees that they're parked up in a field with a solitary barn, a huge building that looks capable of housing hundreds of cows…or horses or something. The minibus is right there, and the rest of the band are climbing out of its dark depths.

Luo QingYang is fast talking into a state-of-the-art walkie talkie, motioning them to follow her inside. Wen Qing catches up to Lan Zhan and she keeps her voice low.

“My signal cut out ten minutes ago. Same for everyone. This is a comms black hole,” she warns. 

Lan Zhan checks his watch only to see the black screen of death - tapping it is useless.

They enter a security zone. There's a body scan, retina scans and X-ray machines to endure before they reach a conference room. That's when Luo QingYang hands her walkie talkie over to an assistant and looks Lan Zhan dead in the eye.

“Okay, for real, no nonsense this time. Wei WuXian is going for some medical tests. He will remain in the building but you can't go with him. It would be a colossal waste of time, and that's a luxury we can't afford right now. Besides, I want you to talk to one of our doctors. Please just cooperate with us. You have my word that you will be reunited with Wei WuXian in a couple of hours. Pinky swear,” she adds, without smiling. She wiggles her left pinky finger at Lan Zhan. 

Lan Zhan looks to Wen Qing for guidance. Out of everyone here, she knows him the best.

When she nods, he reluctantly agrees. Luo QingYang's shoulders droop in relief and it shows she was expecting a fight.

“Thank you. I wouldn't separate you unless it was necessary.” She takes a deep breath and enters, while Lan Zhan remains at the back of their group, watching to see where Wei Ying is being taken. 

When he goes out of sight, only then does Lan Zhan follow everyone else inside. There's a row of chairs before an empty wall, and Luo QingYang invites them all to be seated.

“I bet you all are dying to ask me questions, and once I'm done explaining everything to you, you'll see why we had to take such precautions. Even now, I can't guarantee anyone's safety, but this is the best we can do. Now, are you ready?”

Chapter Text

TRIGGER WARNING: the briefest mention of suicide and it's Jin Guangshan (spoiler alert).

***************

Is he ready? 

Lan Zhan stiffens when Wen Qing grabs his hand, staring straight ahead. Then he notices that they're all sitting in a line, Uncle Four at the far end, Wen Ning next to him, SiZhui in between him and Qing-Jie, and then himself. They're all holding hands and no one is ready. But they haven't had a chance to talk in private ever since Luo QingYang turned up, and Lan Zhan sincerely hopes they will. Brainstorming has always been their thing, often finding a way out of whatever difficulties presented themselves like that. The band isn't just a band. They're family and they stick together, even if they all miss the man who brought them together. 

“By now, you've probably guessed that I'm not really a steward. That's my cover, working for the security company, but I'm with an elite force that cannot be named for obvious reasons. There's so much to tell you, so maybe let's start at the beginning.” Luo QingYang taps her watch and a projector somewhere begins whirring, lighting up the wall behind her.

There's a timeline and names listed, some familiar to Lan Zhan and others unknown. 

“Thirteen years ago, Nightless City Corporation began trading in earnest. Before that, Wen Ruohan had his dirty fingers in several illegal pies but we couldn't prove anything. His security was tighter than a high risk prison and no one in his inner circle could be enticed to snitch on him. Any witnesses died before the cases left the police department, before they went anywhere near a court.

“Things came to a head when Wen Ruohan’s sons got involved with heavy-handed media management. They knew up-and-coming bands and solo artists were desperate to become the next big thing, so they started hunting the most promising acts. Their contracts were full of shit, making the artists sign up for next to nothing just to get a leg up in the industry, for unreasonable amounts of time. They developed a bad reputation but Wen Ruohan threw money at the problem and any complaints, by using his teams of lawyers so nothing changed.

“I was working for the Jin Conglomerate at the time, not with my present employer. Thirteen years ago, a meeting was held in the Nightless City Corporation tower, a secret one where Wen Chao promised to present a fantastic contract that Wei WuXian would be allowed to look over before signing. The only requirement was that he come alone, and that he could speak for the entire Burial Mounds group.”

Wen Qing glances at Lan Zhan, her lips tightly pressed together to form a thin line. She's trying so hard not to say anything about this.

“No one knows exactly what happened that night. But we know that the Jin Conglomerate was involved somehow. The meeting went awry, something happened and it's only recently we found this USB that has footage of what we suspect might have occurred." Luo QingYang taps her phone again. The room grows dark and a video begins playing.

The images are grainy but it's easy to spot Wei Ying. Lan Zhan leans closer as if he will understand the content of the missing years by whatever he's going to see now. Perhaps this video can explain Wei Ying’s disappearance and what happened to him, all that time ago. He holds his breath, unable to even blink in case he might miss something vital.

Wei Ying enters the room with a confident swagger, facing off against the others in the room by projecting a nonchalant, cheeky vibe as if he's not bothered at all.

It's a darkly decorated conference room, but unlike the one they're in right now. 

All the furniture, the carpet and the walls are black with red highlights, and the massive table that sits in the centre along with the twenty odd chairs are also black but with red LED lights in a thin stripe at the edge. The sound cuts out as soon as Wei Ying walks in. 

“We think whoever was in control meant to cut the feed to the cameras in the  security station, but they only managed to disable the audio feed instead.” Luo QingYang tells them.

Wen Chao, a face Lan Zhan recognises from the volume of bad press he got during his trial, steps forward and shakes Wei Ying’s hand, along with another man that he doesn't know the identity of. Luo QingYang pauses the video. 

“Wen Chao, a familiar face I'm sure, but some of you might not know the other man. His name is Zhao Zhuliu, adopted son of Wen Ruohan. Also known as the Spectre. Allegedly known for solving problems for the Wens by making them go away.” She's watching the band, and her eyes remain on Wen Qing. “We can watch it again, I'm just giving you all context. Also, I should add that if anything you see reminds you of something, no matter how insignificant you think it is, please tell us. The smallest details might lead to solving what happens next.” Luo QingYang continues with the video after everyone nods obediently. 

Whatever they're discussing takes a few minutes, and Lan Zhan studies Wei Ying, unable to look away. He's the same man. The same one who vanished that evening, never to be seen again until last night. He ignores the burning strain in his eyes that have been unable to rest, not even taking the time to rub the grittiness away. He doesn't want to miss a thing.

Wei Ying might look as if he's in control, but his obvious stress of the situation is apparent in the rigidity across his shoulders, in the tense twist of his smile as he watches the other men there. He's leaning back in the chair, a cocky smirk on his lips.

Wen Chao pushes a pen and a contract towards him.

Wei Ying doesn’t immediately look at it. He's saying something to Wen Chao, one hand flat on the table while the other one clenches into a fist and flexes outwards. Lan Zhan can't immediately say why that small action bothers him. Wei Ying finally drags the papers towards him, and then he throws back his head and laughs out loud before shoving it back towards Wen Chao.

Things suddenly escalate from there.

Wei Ying stands up as if he's leaving, but then someone shoves him from behind. More words are exchanged and to Lan Zhan, it's extremely frustrating not to know what they're saying. He has no idea what is happening, but then to his utmost horror, a bat is swung, hitting Wei Ying on the back of his head. He falls to the ground, clearly unconscious. Lan Zhan wrenches his hand away from Wen Qing and is already standing up, ready to fight.

But of course, his enemy isn't here.

Luo QingYang stops the video and the lights come on.

The band erupts with loud protests, and Lan Zhan looks back towards four agitated and disturbed individuals with different levels of trauma. They are all shocked by what they've seen. Their expressions reflect pain, anger and indignation. 

Luo QingYang holds a hand up to quieten them down.

“I know how that must have made you feel, I get it. But now we're going to watch that again, and I'm going to point out a few things. Please sit down, Lan WangJi.” Her voice is serious, full of authority. “This has already happened, and I know it's tough to see, but please bear with it.”

Wen Qing pulls Lan Zhan down so that he's sitting. Luo QingYang rewinds the footage to begin playing again from the moment Wei Ying sits down.

“Pay attention to his hand,” she directs them. “That action? It’s Morse code for S-O-S but in sign language. A few decades ago, the practice became popular as a way for people in trouble to signal that they needed help without alerting those about to hurt them. Just Wei WuXian flexing his fingers could've meant nothing, but do you see the way he paused, like he stopped himself from looking at the camera? And then he deliberately closes his hand in a fist followed by flexing his fingers again in a joint action. You can Google it if it seems unbelievable.” She lets the video play more and pauses it again, just before Wei WuXian stands up to leave. “Look here, that's a sleeve. We think a third person was in the room aside from Wen Chao and Zhao Zhuliu, waiting for Wei WuXian.” 

“Who?” Wen Ning asks her. The normally quiet guy speaking out like this means he's upset, enough to do something about it. 

“That's what we don't know. Our experts have analysed and combed through this video multiple times, and we have suspects, but that's the trouble. Just the colour of the golden sleeve points to multiple persons of interest. It must be someone important and what I wouldn't give to hear what they're actually saying!” Luo QingYang shakes her head in resignation as she turns the lights on again. 

But all of that is by-the-by for Lan Zhan. 

“What happened to Wei Ying after that?” He knows he sounds cold and detached but it's the only way he can cope with this. Punching something hard, like Wen Chao’s stupid face, sounds like a fantastic idea right now. How dare they touch Wei Ying? How dare they hurt him so bad?

“Okay, that part, I can help with. A little,” Luo QingYang admits. “I mentioned that I worked for the Jin Conglomerate, right? Well, I don't know how Wei WuXian managed it, and we're missing the step from the Nightless City building to Koi Tower, but that's where he found Mo XuanYu's ID on the floor and picked it up, assuming it was his own. You see, when those thugs hit his head, they struck a part of his head that caused damage to the part of the brain that retains memories. Wei WuXian remembers nothing of his time as the Wei Ying you knew him as. As far as he's concerned, he is Mo XuanYu. He gets flashes of memories now and then, scenes which he's been part of in the past, but nothing concrete or long lasting yet. He suffers from painful migraines as a result of his injury though.” She tosses the tiny pill bottle from her pocket towards Lan Zhan. “These are heavily concentrated pain killers. Our local pharmacy has taken pity on Mo XuanYu and gives him refills without expensive doctor's prescriptions. But he hates taking them. They make him drowsy and the feeling lasts longer than he's comfortable with.”

Lan Zhan catches the small container and reads the name, along with the list of ingredients. 

The door opens and a man dressed in a white coat enters. He bows towards Luo QingYang first before doing the same to everyone else.

“How is he?” Luo QingYang asks him. “This is Doctor Chan FengLi.” She quickly introduces him to everyone.

“Brain activity has settled down, so he's no longer in as much pain. Of course, only he is able to determine the degree of it, but otherwise all of his vitals appear normal. He's still unconscious.” 

Doctor Chan FengLi seems like a good-natured person, a little on the plump side and with a friendly personality, though he delivers his diagnosis with professionalism. 

“That's a relief,” Luo QingYang admits, her shoulders sagging. “Thank you, Doctor.” 

It's a dismissal, but Lan Zhan has questions.

“Wait, Doctor, please.” He clears his throat uncomfortably. “Do Wei Ying’s migraines happen frequently? How do we mitigate the amount he suffers because of them? And are they a direct result of his injuries?”

Doctor Chan FengLi considers his words carefully. 

“The frequency of his headaches is a question for Luo QingYang to answer, since she is in regular contact with Wei WuXian more than anyone else. As for the cure you are referring to, to lessen his pain, we've found that patients respond better to the pain by minimizing exposure to strong lights whenever they have a migraine. Less screen activity, darkening the room, lying down and perhaps listening to soothing music might also help them. But his amnesia is a different matter. If he tries to force his brain to remember before it is ready, that could cause complications as well as triggering his headaches. Healing takes time whether we like it or not.” He turns towards Luo QingYang. “How often does he get an attack?”

“At least a few times a week. Sometimes, there are triggers.”

“Understandable,” the doctor replies at the same time as Lan Zhan asks her, “What kind of triggers?”

“It can be certain smells, or a familiar thing from his life as Wei WuXian. It's unpredictable, that much I can swear to. It's like his brain wants him to remember, like it knows something is wrong and it's throwing memory projectiles at him in the hope that he'll figure things out.” Luo QingYang gestures for the doctor to leave, which he does. When he's gone, she lowers her voice. “I think either the episodes are becoming longer or he's trying to make sense of them.”

“You understand, we're not going to just trust you with all this,” Wen Qing says, frowning at her. “Who exactly do you work for?”

“I can't tell you that,” Luo QingYang explains calmly, sounding far more reasonable than any of this situation deserves. “But I will point out that I could've pretended not to know anything back in the hospital. I could have left you all there without explaining a thing, but I decided to trust you all with this. That should count towards some measure of trust in return, no?”

“What's changed?” Lan Zhan demands. He remembers Wen Qing's question and catches her eyes. “Wen Ruohan and his sons are incarcerated. Why did you suddenly decide to be so forthcoming?” Then another thought occurs to him. “Is Wei Ying in danger?”

Wen Qing goes stock still next to him.

“We're not sure,” Luo QingYang holds her hands up as the band protests, asking for quiet. “I told you I would tell you everything as much as I'm able to, and I stand by that. The timing of this is incredible though, because I reckon if you were still in the middle of your tour, you might have had to cancel the rest of your shows, and that would have raised questions. What do you all do when you take a break?”

“Why are you asking us that now?” Uncle Four asks, looking rightfully worried. 

“Things are changing and it's a sudden escalation. My boss has concerns that the third man, whoever was in that room when Wei WuXian was attacked, is going to make a move that will make him untouchable. The only thing that we've got is an eye witness account but it's buried under a fog of amnesia and the problem is, Wei WuXian might never recover those memories. Or even if he does, it might be too late. I know the doc said recovery takes time and we can't rush anything, but time is the one thing we don't have.” Luo QingYang sounds deadly serious. 

“You would have reached out to us anyway,” Lan Zhan figures it out, voicing his thoughts.

Wen Qing grabs a chair and flips it around so that she's able to straddle it, hugging the back of it to her chest. “You better start talking.”

Lan Zhan grabs another chair and sits next to her, and then in a single movement, the rest of the band joins them in a semi-circle facing Luo QingYang. It's a silent accusation as well as a signal to her that they're all together in whatever this is.

Luo QingYang shrugs but her eyes are calculating. “Yes, to be honest, contacting you was always part of the plan. I just decided to jump a few steps ahead seeing as everything happened by itself. The chance meeting at the hospital and your infallible insistence that Mo XuanYu was–is Wei WuXian.”

“Why did you wait for so long? Thirteen years?” Wen Qing rightfully sounds sceptical of her.

“Okay, I see how it looks to you. You only have a missing band member to think about, but trust me, there was so much happening, there's STILL so much happening behind the scenes.” Luo QingYang shakes her head ruefully. “I'll try and simplify it.”

“Thanks for implying that we're too stupid to handle it,” Wen Qing replies scornfully. “Good job,” she adds.

“That's not what I meant, but okay, you do you,” Luo QingYang snarks back, equally intense. 

“Listen, we're all tired, let's be cool.” SiZhui, as always, makes Lan Zhan proud.

Everyone takes a few breaths.

“Alright, I apologise for making it sound like you wouldn't understand. What I meant was there's too much to go into detail. We are talking about over twelve years of highly illegal wrongdoings, by several individuals with no compunction towards the law, or just, you know, being decent individuals.” She rolls her eyes.

Her words startle a laugh out of Wen Qing, and the tension eases in the room by a few degrees.

“See, you all were just starting out when the proverbial shit hit the fan, so to speak. Wei WuXian wasn't famous enough for anyone other than you, his fellow band members, to care if he went missing. A flash in the pan, here today, gone tomorrow.” Luo QingYang adds quickly, “I'm talking about general public opinion, not me.” 

That makes them quiet.

“I'll try to wrap this up as fast as I can, because I think we could all do with a hot meal and a bed, okay?” She waits for them to agree. “Back then, Jin Guangshan was the CEO of the Jin Conglomerate. Up until recently, we thought he and Wen Ruohan were just acquaintances, but now we're finding out that Wen Ruohan was the mastermind behind his crimes but also he was being funded by the Jins. His idea was to become so powerful that taking over the music industry in its entirety was just a blip in his plans - he had political ambitions that made everything he had done up until his arrest look like child's play in comparison. 

“It took us six years to gather enough evidence against Jin Guangshan to start proceedings for a criminal case, and then he was so overcome with guilt that it made him jump from the roof of Koi Tower to his death. Now between you and me, and remember, I had the unfortunate experience of dealing with the man, I can tell you with complete confidence that he never, ever would have committed suicide.”

“You think someone helped him?” Lan Zhan guesses.

Luo QingYang snorts in a most unladylike way. “Yep, you could say that. The power struggles in the Jin ranks are a whole soap opera by themselves. What's important is that our three main suspects for the identity of the third man in the Nightless City meeting are in prime positions of power. Jin ZiXun, who was pally-pally with Wen Chao but wasted no time at all in providing key evidence to convict him, Su Minshan, aid to Jin Guangyao who is the legitimate son of Jin Guangshan, and therefore influential, and the latter, who used to be known as Meng Yao. Personally, I think Su Minshan is happy where he's at, but the other two are always at odds, especially after the suspicious circumstances surrounding the actual heir, Jin ZiXuan’s, disappearance.”

“But how come everyone was okay with Wei WuXian pretending to be Mo XuanYu?” Wen Qing asks her.

“Oh, that's easy. The real Mo XuanYu, and I should add, illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan, and before you say it, yes, another one, was a bit loopy. They all said he was a bit funny in the head after a knock to the head, so that part matched up. But his mother was quite beautiful with silver eyes, and Mo XuanYu inherited those. His features also resemble Wei WuXian's, oh, I can prove it.” Luo QingYang pulls out Mo XuanYu's ID again and hands it over to Wen Qing. “See? Look at his bone structure, his nose. And of course, his eyes.” 

Lan Zhan pulls out Wei Ying’s ID from his own wallet and then leans into Wen Qing’s space and tries to see what they're seeing. To him, Wei Ying is Wei Ying - there is not a single universe where he wouldn't know him, regardless of his body. There are definite differences…but unfortunately, Luo QingYang is right; there are an equal number of similarities, too. She has pinpointed the obvious ones being their almost identical bone structure and their noses, and yes, obviously their eyes. But they both sported the same hairstyles at the time.

“What the fuck?” Wen Qing says, staring at him in disbelief. “You've been carrying that around all this time?”

Lan Zhan looks around at all the incredulous faces. All except SiZhui, who looks like he might cry because he's the only one who understands why Lan Zhan has it.

It's the only piece of Wei Ying that Lan Zhan can carry with him.

He coughs in embarrassment. “Wei Ying didn't like carrying it around. He gave it to me for safe keeping.” And he will do it until Wei Ying asks for it back.

Wen Qing has gone all soft about that and she squeezes his hand quietly supportive.

“I knew I wasn't wrong to trust you,” Luo QingYang whispers gleefully, and they all ignore her.

“Alright, I can buy it,” Wen Qing finally says, handing Mo XuanYu's ID back after scrutinising the picture.

Lan Zhan tucks away Wei Ying’s ID where it belongs, back inside his wallet and then places it in his shirt pocket right over his heart.

“I know it sounds wild, but I'll give you some context. See, Mo XuanYu was always going to be a target. As long as he was alive, he posed a threat to those who believed in heritage claims, and the truth is, if he had taken the Jins to court, Mo XuanYu stood a good chance to take them to the cleaners. At the time, with Jin ZiXuan still present and very much alive, Jin Guangyao, and Jin ZiXun all being legitimate heirs, the Jin Conglomerate would have been divided into quarters, if something happened to the patriarch, Jin Guangshan. Looking back now, it's easy to see that somebody was systematically removing their competition, one by one. 

“That night, when I found Wei WuXian, injured and fully believing he was Mo XuanYu, I think someone had tried and succeeded to kill him, the actual Mo XuanYu, I mean. But because he looked so much like Wei WuXian, whoever dumped Wei WuXian's body in the basement of Koi Tower thought Mo XuanYu was him, and vice versa. That's the only reason why no one's come after Wei WuXian again. It's because like him, they believe he's Mo XuanYu, when the real one died thirteen years ago. Whoever killed Wei WuXian believes he's dead, and because nothing has surfaced during all this time, they think they're safe.”

“But what about the one who actually killed Mo XuanYu?” Lan Zhan asks her. 

“Yeah, why haven't they tried to do it again? He's obviously alive!” Wen Qing points out, incredulously. 

Luo QingYang shrugs. “I really don't know, except to say that maybe they had to change their minds. Maybe they watched him for a while and decided that he didn't pose a threat any more? The real Mo XuanYu was known as a lunatic, and he blamed everything on his injury. This one, Wei WuXian as Mo XuanYu, well, is he so different?”

“Wen Ruohan and his sons got arrested a couple of days after Wei Ying went missing…” Lan Zhan thinks out loud, speculating. “Even though it took almost a year to convict them. Could it be that whoever believed they had killed Mo XuanYu was too busy backstabbing the Wens to try again? Would that have brought them unwanted attention at a crucial time?”

“Quite possibly, and we'll ask them when they're arrested.” Luo QingYang stands up.

“Wait a second, I'm not done,” Wen Qing snaps, her patience ebbing away.

“Alright, alright, chill.” Luo QingYang sits back down, but she stretches up instead, making her spine crack.

“Why were you lurking around in the basement of Koi Tower? And what did you do after finding Wei WuXian?”

Wen Qing sounds mean and Lan Zhan is forever glad that she's on their side. She would make a formidable opponent and a truly awful enemy if one were foolish enough to instigate that. Her inherent sharpness is getting them answers and he's not complaining. They need this.

They all need this.

“Okay, first off, I wasn't in the basement at all. I found Wei WuXian stumbling up the stairs from it, and like any decent person, saw he was hurt and needed help and took him to hospital to get treated. At that time, I was already considering leaving my job because of the insane rumours and strange goings on, but while Wei WuXian was being treated, a person approached me. That's all I'm going to say about them, because I quit the Jins and started working for them instead and I love my current job too much to jeopardise it.” Luo QingYang stares back at Wen Qing unflinchingly. “My new boss said it was best if both Wei WuXian, well, as far as I knew, Mo XuanYu, and I got as far away from the Jins as possible. So we travelled around and then when it was safe, we came to Suzhou.” She shrugs. “They haven't come after us so far, so he was safe until now.”

“When did you know he wasn't Mo XuanYu?” Lan Zhan narrows his eyes at her.

“Straight away. Unlike the others, I actually liked Mo XuanYu and spent enough time with him to know the difference. I didn't know he had died until much later, and it still hasn't been made public. That fact alone is damning proof that whoever wanted Wei WuXian dead thinks they've succeeded, and they may or may not be the same person who wanted Mo XuanYu dead as well. And before you come at me with why I never told any of you where Wei WuXian was, it's because his safety was more important than giving you closure, and you can hate me for that. But we all know that I'm right.”

Lan Zhan looks at his family and sees the same resignation there that he's feeling himself. 

“And now, let's go eat and rest. I'm sure Wei WuXian will have rested enough by then, too, and then we can decide what to do.”

This time, when Luo QingYang leaves the room, they all follow her out one by one.

*************

A/N

I was hoping to have Wei Ying in this one but it was already getting too long!😭 Promise he'll feature in the next one! If you guys have any questions at all, please feel free to voice them!

All my love,

Charlie

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

Chapter Text

The attention to detail at dinner is noticeable. Lan Zhan’s meal is vegetarian and on the bland side, noodles in a light broth accompanied by steamed vegetables that are crunchy but cooked well. The others have a selection of meat based dishes with different spice levels, and SiZhui's food is also vegetarian but super spicy. Someone is paying attention to them by knowing their preferences to exacting levels. 

Luo QingYang eats with them, and there's light conversation based on harmless topics, more for lightening the mood than for the transaction of information. They all eat in what could be loosely termed as an officer's mess or dining hall, and while the furniture and the food is of the highest quality, there is something impermanent about it. It's the kind of vibe that would usually be associated with camping gear; easily assembled and used and just as easily packed up and put away-able.

After they've eaten, Luo QingYang leaves them in the hands of a sharply suited young man who escorts them to another section in this building, and it's hard to remember that it's shaped like an innocuous, ordinary barn on the outside. Most likely to prevent any suspicion on what it actually contains and its uses.

The young man stops outside a door guarded by two armed security personnel. 

“This is where you will rest. Inside, the back wall has doors leading to adjacent bathrooms, and night clothes have been arranged for your stay. I hope all of you enjoy a good night's rest and will wake up feeling much better!” He bows and waits for everyone to enter. “If you need anything at all, please feel free to tell your guards and they will be happy to fetch whatever it is for you.”

They go inside and find two rows of eight bunk beds in the centre and they're already made up for sleeping in. Their escort was correct in telling them about the bathrooms, too.

“Alright,” Wen Qing says, once they're alone. “Does everyone want to sleep first or talk first?”

The vote is unanimous for sleeping, so she sets an alarm and everyone gets ready for bed. Tomorrow will no doubt be another long day.

******************

As Luo QingYang walks away from the band members and Lan WangJi, feeling his gaze upon her back, she makes sure she's far away before placing the call to her boss.

“Sir, I've been informed that Mo XuanYu is awake. I'm going to see him now.”

From the other side, there's a few moments of silence that she's come to expect from the quiet man. In her opinion, he's brilliant. A strategist that knows the inner workings of his enemies, and his friends. That's what makes him stand out from all the rest - he never lets his guard down. It's a trait that has served him well, seeing as he's fighting a secret war with a nest of vipers.

“Have the others been notified?”

“No. They're tired. Logical thinking won't happen and if you want to pull this off successfully, then everyone must remain calm.”

“Good.”

“But Sir, I'm going to tell him everything now.”

“Are you sure that's the best way? What if he has another episode?”

“I can go slowly. Have the doctor on standby.” This is probably the first time she's making an independent decision but she knows it's the right thing to do. “From here on out, I'm going to do what is in his best interests only. I hope you understand that.”

Unexpectedly, there's a faint chuckle on the other side.

“In the coming days, he's going to need all the friends he can get. Do what you have to. I will start turning the screws on our other problem.”

The line clicks to an end and she reaches the medical bay. Luckily, Doctor Chan FengLi is just leaving, so she stops him.

“Doctor, I'm asking if you can remain close by,” she looks at her smart watch, “for a couple of hours? Just in case.”

He nods but he's not happy about it. “It's dangerous to push him.”

“And that's exactly what I'm not going to do. But he's an adult, he's also my friend, and we're going to walk this path together. All I need from you is support, and your medical expertise should things take a nosedive. I'm well aware of the risks, but I'm not going to treat him as if he's incapable of making his own decisions. It's time he learned the truth.” Shoulders back, head held high, Luo QingYang enters Wei WuXian's room.

******************

Mo XuanYu wakes up in a strange bed, in a strange room, hooked up to an IV feed and dressed in a hospital robe. He's not too cold and the blanket is soft and warm on his body. Thankfully, the echoes of pain recede as his eyes blink and adjust to the light. 

He's not alone and for a few minutes, he watches the unfamiliar doctor making notes on a clipboard that he hangs at the foot of his bed before looking up with a pleasant smile.

“Where am I?” Mo XuanYu asks him, his throat sore.

“Are you thirsty?” The doctor asks him instead, and when he nods, the doctor brings a sippy cup for him, pressing a button to raise the top half of the bed so Mo XuanYu can drink easily. “Small sips to begin with,” the doctor advises.

Mo XuanYu decides that he likes him. He's kind of chubby which is comforting though he can't explain why. It's like walking past a restaurant and seeing it full to bursting; seeing a health professional whose metabolism isn't up to scratch makes him seem more human as opposed to a perfect example of how to live. His round face is pleasant and smiling, and Mo XuanYu feels comforted anyway.

“Do you know if Mianmian–I mean, Luo QingYang is here?” He asks, after the doctor takes the cup back.

“I will go and fetch her,” the doctor replies, and he leaves.

Mo XuanYu hears muffled voices outside and hopes one of them is his best friend. Mianmian is tough on the outside but he has no doubts that she can kick-ass like a Kung Fu master just with her attitude. He trusts her because she was the first person he met after waking up in Koi Tower and she got him to a hospital. They spent time travelling from town to city, and while he got the impression that she was constantly looking over her proverbial shoulder, she stuck it out with him. Then she got him a job, and if all of that wasn't enough to buy her his undying friendship then he doesn't know what would.

His smile when she walks in is huge. “Mianmian!”

Luo QingYang comes to stand beside him, pulling him into a side hug. Mo XuanYu can already tell something's off though.

“A-Yu, how are you feeling? Any pain?” She flicks his forehead, and he grins back at her.

“Nope, which is weird, right? I definitely had a migraine…” Mo XuanYu thinks back as the last memory floods into his mind. “I was at the stadium– hey, do you think they're gonna fire me? I just kinda left, I guess, even though the concert was nearly done.”

“A-Yu,” she pauses as if thinking about what she wants to say.

“Mianmian,” Mo XuanYu whines, not liking this more serious version of his friend. He wants her to be normal. They usually have a great time together and she always indulges him like his big sister–There's a twinge at the side of his head, and years of Pavlovian behaviour make him stop thinking about siblings. It's probably not important anyway. “Mianmian! Can we go out for spicy noodles? I'm hungry!” It's a way to distract her but even as he says the words, his stomach rumbles and he realises how much it is true.

“Alright, let me sort out some food for you, but then we have to talk, okay?”

Mo XuanYu nods reluctantly, ignoring the way his belly flips inside. She sounds serious and he's a hundred percent sure that he's not going to like what she's going to say.

Mercifully, Mianmian waits until he finishes eating. She hands the tray to someone outside and pulls up a chair to sit by him.

“What about dessert?” Mo XuanYu quickly begs, trying to delay what's to come. His sixth sense is screaming at him now.

But Mianmian, ever prepared for him and his antics, pulls out a Snickers Ice cream bar. It's melted a little, just the way he likes it because then the caramel is soft and gooey. He chews slowly, procrastinating, and she sighs because she can see through all his tricks.

“You know, I hope you can forgive me,” she says, after he finishes eating. She takes the brown wrapper away from his fingers and chucks it in the bin by the door.

“I can't forgive you if I don't know what you've done,” he replies uneasily, unable to look away.

“Alright, let's make this about somebody else. That way, you get a choice. If you don't want to believe me, we can go with that. But if you choose to pick what I'm telling you as the truth, then you'll see why I've done what I've done, and I'm genuinely hoping you don't end up hating me.” She takes his hand and threads their fingers together. 

“Mianmian…I'm scared.”

“So am I.” This is so hard for her. 

Mo XuanYu can see how difficult it is, her wonderfully expressive eyes a little wild and wet with turmoil. But above all, he wants to make this easier for her. 

“We've gone through a lot together, right?” He says that softly. 

She nods, and the tears that were threatening the confines of her eyes finally spill over. With his free hand, Mo XuanYu wipes under them using his thumb. What he has to say is important and he wants to get the words out before his opinion of her changes. The thing is, he isn't sure it will change, but from the way her hand trembles in his, he can tell how she's terrified of that.

“And so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say thank you. I know it wasn't easy, I was there and we had some good times and some laughter too–”

“Kool and The Gang? Really?” She giggles. “I can't believe you're quoting Celebration lyrics right now.” She sniffs as he starts to sing. This is their song. It's just the chorus but they sing it together, quietly. 

“There's a party going on right here,

A celebration to last throughout the years

So bring your good times and your laughter too

We gon' celebrate your party with you, come on now

Celebration,

Let's all celebrate and have a good time

Celebration

We gon' celebrate and have a good time.”

Mianmian gets up to wash her face in the tiny basin by the door. She pulls a few paper towels from the dispenser and wipes under her eyes, the smile gradually fading from her lips. When she comes back, Mo XuanYu pulls her onto the bed and hugs her tight.

“We've been through too much shit to let it come between us. Now spill. Give me the tea. Give it to me straight, no sugar, no honey.” Mo XuanYu is determined not to let go of her. “I'm serious.”

“Hello, Serious, I'm Mianmian.” She says that automatically, and then they both chuckle. They're being silly, but no one knows her like Mo XuanYu does and if this is what they need to cope then it's okay. 

“You can do it,” Mo XuanYu gives her the last bit of a pep talk.

“Don't interrupt me, okay?”

“I won't.”

“No overly dramatic responses, either!”

“We'll see. I dunno what you're trying to sell me yet!” Mo XuanYu rubs her back in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. “You're procrastinating.”

“You did it too. But okay, here goes.” Luo QingYang gives herself a few moments of deep breathing, and then she goes for it. “Thirteen years ago, there was a young man called Wei WuXian, birth name Wei Ying. He had dreams of being in a rock band, writing songs and performing to the public, but in order to do that, his band would have to sign with a major music company. He knew he wouldn't be taken seriously unless he had an online following and in the meantime, he needed to show his future backers that he and his band had talent. What he didn't have was a band.”

“What did he do?” Mo XuanYu likes this. It's like listening to a bedtime story. 

“He told his family and they didn't take it well. They abandoned him, told him he was no longer welcome there. Luckily, he had some savings and it was the last year of his scholarship in uni, but he had great friends. He met a brother and sister, and when they learned what happened to him, they decided to join up and form a band. The brother could play the drums really well, the sister was great on a keyboard and they had an uncle who had a fantastic sense of rhythm so they got him to be the percussion guy. Wei WuXian also had a best friend, his roommate, Lan WangJi. At this point, I'm going to make you drink some water and tell you to be honest with me.” Luo QingYang leans back, staring into his eyes. “If you start feeling unwell or overwhelmed, please tell me. Promise?”

Mo XuanYu nods and accepts the water. He's feeling alright, great, even. “No headaches yet,” he confirms.

He sits cross-legged on the bed after that, inviting Luo QingYang to do the same. Their knees touch and she grabs his hand again before continuing.

“The band started busking at train stations and at night in public gathering spaces, and they recorded themselves. One day, they got a phone call from the son of a big company. The son ran the music part of it, and he offered a contract to Wei WuXian, but he had to come alone and his signature would be the agreement of the whole band. But Wei WuXian wasn't stupid. He did his research and he was worried, so he told his other friend everything before going to the meeting. His friend was scared too, and made him wear a wire, you know, a listening device, just in case things went downhill. His friend even tried to convince him not to go, but Wei WuXian seemed confident that he would be able to say no and that would be that.

“But what Wei WuXian didn't know was that it was a set up. He walked right into a trap.”

Mo XuanYu shivers unconsciously. Maybe it's better not to think about anything yet.

“We're not sure what exactly happened, but Wei WuXian was attacked by the son's problem solver. They hit him with a baseball bat, injuring his head and knocking him out. When he woke up, he couldn't remember anything but he knew he needed help. He must have dropped his ID on the floor, so he picked it up and got out of there. Luckily, he ran into someone who was able to get him to a hospital. While he was being checked by the doctors, his friend, the one that had told him not to go to the meeting, came to see his new friend, the one who had brought him to the hospital in the first place. This friend said that Mo XuanYu was still in danger unless we did what they said. They gave us cash so it couldn't be traced and made sure we left that night. He even gave us burner phones so we would still be able to contact him, but he said it would be better if we travelled around for a bit, until he was sure we could be safe.” Mianmian squeezes his hand. “With me so far?”

“I know the rest of this story,” Mo XuanYu whispers, and his throat is tight.

“Is it too much for you?”

He thinks about that question, how he's supposed to answer it. Maybe the truth is the easiest way.

“I don't know. It's hard to believe. I'm not saying you're lying,” he says that quickly, so she won't get the wrong idea. “But when I woke up, my ID was right there. Now you're telling me that I'm not Mo XuanYu. I'm someone called Wei WuXian. I can't process that. It feels fake. See, I've spent thirteen years being Mo XuanYu. I can't suddenly switch to Wei WuXian's identity.”

“That might still be a good thing,” Luo QingYang tells him.

“Are you going to tell me more unbelievable stuff?”

She gives him half-hearted finger guns. “That night, someone tried to kill Mo XuanYu, the real one. They succeeded. It was a bizarre coincidence that both of you were taken to the same place, but as a result, because you look like him, whoever wanted Wei WuXian dead thinks he still is and that, my friend, is the only thing keeping you alive. It is a priceless case of mistaken identity. So if it's possible, we need you to keep believing you are Mo XuanYu on the outside for now.”

“More secrets.”

They're quiet as he thinks about everything he's been told. “So you know when I get headaches, you know I see things, right?”

“I knew there were triggers. I thought your mind was trying to fix the holes in your memory. I didn't know you were seeing things, real things that had actually happened.”

“Yeah. I never meant to keep it from you. I didn't really understand it until now because it makes more sense that I'm seeing bits and pieces of something that's happened already, right? Nobody can have this much deja vu!” he laughs, but it's more because he's trying to make light of the situation. For both of them.

“Do you think you can handle something like pictures maybe? Of the people you used to know? I'm asking because, not to put any pressure on you but they're sleeping right now, and they'll want to come and see you in about six hours. That's a rough time table.” She pats his hand sympathetically. “I know it's a lot to ask of you in such a short period of time. But they're here and I don't have it in me to say no. I will, though, if you can't deal with them.” Luo QingYang looks thoughtful. “You know, A-Yu, on my way here, I was thinking about how to tell you everything. And I decided then and there, you are my top priority. I reckon that's the best way to get through any of this with integrity.”

“I have a lot of questions,” Mo XuanYu replies, giving her a small smile. “But I do have a headache now. Not one of those ones, just an information overload one. So…can you show me some of their videos? What were they called, Wei WuXian's band?”

“The Burial Mounds.”

Mo XuanYu gapes at her, jaw dropping as low as it can get. “Fucking hell!”

“Exactly.”

“Any way you can smuggle something stronger than water in here?” he jokes as she pulls out her phone.

“Keep thinking this is all happening to someone else and you'll be fine.”

“Yep, on it like a car bonnet,” Mo XuanYu replies, refusing to think about it at all. But this is the same band that played before he passed out.

“So this is one of their earlier videos, that explains the bad quality,” Luo QingYang says, before she hands over her phone. “But A-Yu, things are serious now. If you even suspect any hint of a migraine, we are stopping. Doctor Chan is nearby but I refuse to take any risks.”

Mo XuanYu snatches the phone out of her unprepared hands, cackling. He presses play on Douyin and immediately the drums begin playing. The person filming on their phone looks like a music fan as opposed to specifically a Burial Mounds fan, because they take lots of close ups of the instruments and in a way, it's a gentler introduction to, well, himself. 

It's so strange to see a carbon copy of himself prancing around in front of other people with a mic in his hands, but even Mo XuanYu can admit that he has a lovely voice. It's different from when their current lead singer sang on stage in front of thousands of fans. Wei WuXian is naturally charming, effortlessly engaging those who stopped by to watch them. He's a flirt, and he probably means nothing by it, because the best celebrities do it like breathing. It's a persona. A mask to hide behind to protect themselves. 

Different…but neither good or bad. 

The lyrics could do with a polish, he thinks, and maybe there should be a slightly longer gap between the last verse and the final chorus just to give the tall, incredibly good-looking guitarist a bit of time to showcase his skills. He's definitely talented, and Mo XuanYu finds himself appreciating the way his long pale fingers pluck at the strings and glide over the stem of his instrument. He's seen him somewhere before…but the person filming doesn't linger on his face long enough for Mo XuanYu to make any kind of connection. He recognises the two siblings, Wen Qing on the cheap synthesiser and Wen Ning on his simple set of drums. Uncle Four isn't featured in this video but…a little kid waddles into the midst of the performers and immediately, as soon as he latches onto Wei WuXian's leg hugging it, a chorus of “awww"s ring out across the spectators. Wei WuXian is incredible with him, picking him up and pretending to sing together and the little guy gets all shy when he realises he's the centre of attention and there are a LOT of people now watching him.

The child wiggles in Wei WuXian's grasp and so he puts him down, and the boy rushes to the guitar player instead, hugging his leg now. It's comical how the tall man suddenly stills and remains that way because he doesn't want the child to get hurt or trip up over the many wires plugged into their mini generator. 

“That child is their current lead singer,” Luo QingYang informs him as the song ends. 

Mo XuanYu presses play once more. 

It's honestly not as bad as he feared. These people are familiar, but not because he knows them on a personal level. They're familiar because he's watched and listened to them, or a slightly different version of them minus himself and Eye-Candy-Guitarist, for the past ten nights. He has walked past blown up picture posters of them, and life sized cardboard cutouts on the way to the stadium grounds. It's like knowing who the latest celebrities are without actually knowing them at all.

That one video is watched a further six times and Mo XuanYu knows he's going to be responsible for the added extra viewing numbers far more than this paltry sum, but his eyes are starting to hurt now and he needs to sleep. Losing consciousness and actually resting are two different things and he's well aware of that.

When the phone barely misses hitting his face, Luo QingYang plucks it out of his grasp and helps him lie down more comfortably. She tucks the blanket around his neck and plants a chaste kiss on his hair, stroking it to soothe him.

“Try not to worry, A-Yu. You don't have to decide anything if you don't want to. Tomorrow's problems are just that, they belong to tomorrow. Rest well, Didi.” She smiles warmly at Mo XuanYu before making her way to the exit. “I'll see you later,” she promises.

“See you later,” he whispers back, and then he's asleep before she even closes the door behind herself. 

********************

A/N

Are you guys excited for tomorrow? And the next chapter? I'm so pumped about this story!!

Got a bit of a busy day tomorrow but fingers crossed I can still update! Next chapter, WangXian will definitely meet up!

Chapter Text

Wen Qing's alarm goes off five hours later. They all freshen up, and then they find labelled bags with designer clothes waiting for them, all in the correct sizes and colour/style preferences of each band member. Another thing to notice about whoever is running this operation. Their attention to detail is unprecedented. 

Once they're presentable, the band picks a bunk to sit on, one sheltered from the ceiling and away from any cameras. Wen Qing types out messages on her phone and encourages them all to do the same; if they're being monitored, this is a way for them all to communicate without giving the game away.

WEN QING: We can't send messages because I bet none of us have a signal, but if we have a typed conversation, there's no way anyone will know what we are talking about.

LAN ZHAN: Agreed. I am not sure how far we can trust Luo QingYang. We don't know who she's working for, and it's best to remain cautious for now.

SIZHUI: I like her, but I get it. When can we go meet dad?

LAN ZHAN: As soon as possible. 

His hands hover over his phone, thumbs anxious to convey more. He wants to see Wei Ying now, like, yesterday. As soon as possible doesn't seem urgent enough. SiZhui sitting next to him, wraps an arm around his waist and leans his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. 

He's so much older now than the last time Wei Ying saw him. A toddler, a baby really, to the eighteen year old of now. So much lost time. That's another thing making Lan Zhan angry at Luo QingYang, but at the back of his mind is also the lurking fear that it was more important to keep Wei Ying safe and alive than his own peace of mind about that fact. The truth of it is that there is nobody to blame right in front of him. Luo QingYang would be the obvious target but Lan Zhan knows he can't - she is not responsible for what happened to Wei Ying. That crime and fault lies with Wen Ruohan, Wen Chao and Zhao Zhuliu. If anything, and as much as Lan Zhan hates to admit it, Luo QingYang and her boss have to be thanked for keeping Wei Ying alive.

Wen Qing nudges him with her elbow because he's distracted and not paying attention to the messages.

WEN QING: The real question is how much Wei Ying knows. Have they told him anything about who he really is? But what's seriously bugging me is why now? She said it's because she met us in the hospital, and she implied that she was always going to contact us about him…but can we trust that?

WEN NING: Xian-Gege should know. 

LAN ZHAN: What if it hurts him?

WEN QING: You'll never know unless you try. It's like walking across an iced over pond - gently and with full awareness. If the ice cracks, turn back.

UNCLE FOUR: He can't remain in this no man's land forever. Living between two lives must be extremely confusing and disorienting for him. I can't believe that both of his lives exist separately in his mind. Especially after all this time.

LAN ZHAN: We need to see Wei Ying before we can correctly ascertain his condition. Whether or not he would be willing to spend time with us again. He should be given a choice.

WEN NING: Ms. Luo said his life was in danger and continuing to pretend he's Mo XuanYu is the best thing for now.

WEN QING: Outside our bubble, yes. When it's just us, we can be normal about him.

Lan Zhan sees her fingers tremble as she types, and it reinforces the realisation that this situation is tough for all of them. He knew that already, but seeing the evidence of it brings it home. He might have lost his best friend, his lover, his confidant, his zhiji, but all the people here lost someone dear to them. Wen Qing lost a younger brother, Wen Ning lost an older brother, Uncle Four lost a nephew, and SiZhui lost a father. To think about that makes his vision blur.

There's a knock on the door and Uncle Four goes to open it while everyone else scrambles to separate, to pretend that they weren't doing anything suspicious. 

Luo QingYang arrives, smiling pleasantly at all of them.

“Good afternoon. I'm here to collect you for lunch. Did you sleep well?”

“When can we see Dad?” SiZhui asks and then blushes, stepping behind Lan Zhan when Luo QingYang looks at him.

“That's also something I need to talk to you about.” Her smile falters but she carries on. “I thought I should prepare him to see you. I want to look at this from all angles, including yours, but you should know that if I have to choose, it's going to be him. That part is non-negotiable.”

SiZhui entwines his fingers with Lan Zhan’s. No one says anything straight away, and then Lan Zhan nods at her. He bows first before speaking.

“I believe we must thank you for keeping him alive and safe.”

Luo QingYang bows back, first flustered before she recovers fast and gives him a playful grin. “Trust me, it wasn't easy. He's hard maintenance.” She cackles when they all throw dirty looks at her. “Too soon?”

Lan Zhan ignores her teasing and gets straight to the point. “Did you tell him about us?”

“He knows about you. And bits and pieces about himself in your lives, where he used to fit in. It's tricky though, right? Imagine how hard it is for you to accept that Wei WuXian has another name, that he's used to being called Mo XuanYu, and that he has a whole other life where he's busy living it, and it's totally separate from yours. Well, in that scenario, all of that,” she brings all of her digits together to make a pointer out of her hand and draws an imaginary circle in the air, “is happening to him right now, and he's suddenly got to cope with the information, all of it new, that he is not who he thought he was. He had a whole other life separate from THIS one, and it's so wildly different, so creative, so parallel to the one he has right now. Imagine how hard it is for him to accept it. So in order to make it easier, I told him to imagine that all of this is happening to someone else.” She waits for them to process what she's saying. “We don't want to hurt him any more than necessary, at all if I can help it. The last thing we need is for all of this to trigger another migraine.”

The fact that she tried at all is a huge step in Lan Zhan wanting to trust her. It proves that she's got Wei Ying’s best interests at heart. 

“Does he–Is he willing to meet with us?” Wen Qing asks her.

“Yes. He rested again last night, and so did you, so I'm hoping that we are all going to be patient with each other. I'm not going to lie. This is a delicate situation for everyone involved. But let's not complicate the issue with angry or hurt feelings when that'll be the last thing Wei WuXian wants you to feel. You absolutely must remember that he's Mo XuanYu up here. Not your Wei WuXian.” She taps the side of her own head.

With her words, harsh though they are, it's like she's taking a sledgehammer to Lan Zhan’s heart. His own pain at this horrible scenario, one he never could've imagined happening, is reflected on the faces of all of his family. She's warning them to be gentle. Again, it reinforces in Lan Zhan’s mind that she is a good person, if she's thinking about the impact of their presence on Wei Ying first.

“You don't know us, so I'm going to forgive you for thinking that we're going to go in there with guns blazing,” Wen Qing replies, with a quivering angry brow.

“Gee, thanks for that,” Luo QingYang replies, just as scornfully. “Maybe you missed the part where I said I'm Team Mo XuanYu.”

Wen Qing steps forward angrily, and Lan Zhan has never moved so fast. He steps in front of her and bows. 

“Thank you for reminding us of that, and we will be sure to take your words seriously.”

SiZhui steps past Wen Qing too, to stand next to his Dad. He also bows and hopefully asks, “Can we see him now?”

Luo QingYang softens immediately, and Lan Zhan realises that his son is their secret weapon. SiZhui has always been cute, but what people are never prepared for is his goodness, his unfailing sincerity. He is the best of Wei Ying and himself, and that's a fact. But in truth, the whole band is responsible for the way this beautiful child has turned out.

He turns to address all of them. “When we meet with Mo XuanYu, it is best if we leave any expectations here, behind us. I know it's hard, but we should treat him like he's a stranger for now.”

“Alright, who's hungry?” Luo QingYang calls out, leading them from the room. Apparently, she's decided that's enough talking.

Lan Zhan places a hand on SiZhui's back as they follow her. Behind him, he hears Wen Ning ask his sister, “Jie-Jie, why don't you like Ms. Luo? She's trying to help us. Help everyone.”

“She's so fucking annoying,” he hears Wen Qing reply, and her hesitation is obvious. “So condescending to us, as if she's the only one allowed near A-Xian.”

“Is that really it?” Wen Ning says, “because it sounds like that's not why at all. And as for Ms. Luo, I don't think she's annoying, or being condescending to us at all. I like that she's looking out for Xian-Gege. He's only got her…but we all still have each other. I think manners don't cost money, and there's no excuse to be rude.” 

When Lan Zhan turns his head so he can see them both, he finds Wen Ning walking a little bit faster than his sister, who isn't the most levelheaded person right now, and she's lost in thought. Wen Ning makes eye contact and then he actually winks at Lan Zhan. 

So…maybe something else is going on back there.

But there's no time to dwell on that because they're back at the dining hall and about to go in. They're going to meet Wei Ying. 

Finally, it's happening. 

***************

(TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack, difficulty breathing) - starts at “How is he related to me?”

*****************

Luo QingYang is all business when Mo XuanYu wakes up. The doctor has already released him from the IV feed and now there's a white plaster covering the shallow wound on his hand. She helps him up and pushes him towards the bathroom, wrinkling her nose and calling him stinky with a fond exasperation when he protests at too early a time.

He feels much better after a hot shower, and okay, he might've spent longer than the cleanliness dictated in there, but it felt nice and comforting. 

The thing is, he is aware of how challenging today is going to be for him. And just thinking about all the questions still buzzing around in his head like a bunch of bees with a smoke machine, makes him feel exhausted before he's even asked any of them.

Being able to change out of the backless and frankly humiliating hospital gown is a godsend, and the clothes she's picked out for him are extra soft and ease his body if not his mind. Nothing stands out in the black super soft cotton t-shirt, or the slightly ripped black jeans, or the scarlet blanket-like cardigan he throws over the whole look, but it certainly helps when Mo XuanYu hugs himself. 

“You're too skinny,” Luo QingYang tells him, bumping into his shoulder playfully.

“You always say that,” he replies, looking around. “Where are we? This doesn't look like a hospital.”

“That's because it's not one. I'll go get the others. We're all going to eat lunch together.” She stops outside a pair of doors. “A-Yu, you can tell me if you've changed your mind. I can make them go away.” She puts her hands on his shoulders and even though she's so much shorter than him, it makes Mo XuanYu feel like he's the smaller one of the two.. 

“Jie-Jie, I'm okay,” he reassures her. “I'm…kind of curious. That's new because I wasn't expecting that.”

He's surprised her, he can tell. Yes, he's full of trepidation at having to meet strangers that supposedly know him, but after watching the videos last night, and again early this morning, he's excited, too. The way he sees this new challenge is that he can either give in to the negative feelings brewing in his mind, or he can create a blank space like a new piece of paper and make something he likes. From here onwards, he can put aside the past and write a new story for himself so long as everyone understands that he probably can't ever go back to being the Wei WuXian they knew. It's time for a fresh start and he isn't going to put any pressure on himself to remember how he was and his old life. Either it will happen or it won't, and both of those outcomes are literally out of his control.

So now his bright smile feels real and authentic, because it genuinely reflects his mood.

“I bet they're as hungry as I am, so go on, bring them here so we can eat. Then we can talk.” With a confidence similar to the surface of a creme brulee, Mo XuanYu turns her around and gently shoves her in what he hopes is the right direction. 

It isn't. 

“Fine, idiot.” It's affectionately fond.

Mo XuanYu watches her leave and then he nods to the two security guards outside the dining hall and goes inside.

He doesn't have long to wait; less than ten minutes later, the double doors swing open and Luo QingYang walks in with a bounce to her steps. That more than any words of encouragement reassures Mo XuanYu that everything is going to be okay.

The next person he sees is the current lead singer, Lan SiZhui. Mo XuanYu has admired his confidence from afar, always tinged with a little protectiveness because the kid is so young to be thrust into the fame that accompanies his place in the band. And yet, Lan SiZhui is so professional all of the time that it's hard not to be proud of him. His silver eyes are bright with excitement and his smile widens when he catches sight of Mo XuanYu. 

It's kind of strange because this person, a child really, knows who he used to be. And Mo XuanYu has no idea of their relationship, what it must have been like. But he can certainly make the connection between the little toddler he saw in the busking video with the Burial Mounds, when this child had given everyone, including himself, a dose of ‘cuteness’ aggression. A spontaneous wave of affection spreads warmth inside his chest, and Mo XuanYu waves back, smiling.

As the young man steps away and out of his line of sight, another taller man fills his vision. It's the guitarist, Lan WangJi. 

Golden eyes, sharp, assessing, intense, pierce his silver ones with a brutal curiosity…and something else, something Mo XuanYu can't put a name to yet. 

It's like standing beneath a gold stained glass window being warmed by the full strength of the midday sun shining through it, or staring inside a multifaceted golden diamond trying to count all the glimmering flecks. 

His pale skin is as smooth as jade and just as immaculately perfect, flawlessly beautiful, as if he has been carved from the precious rock by an expert hand. Something aches in Mo XuanYu's chest as he watches the stunning man suddenly stop to stare back at him. His expression is devastatingly hopeful.

“You called me Wei Ying!” Mo XuanYu blurts out, and the memory of that night bursts into life in his head. His hand unconsciously lifts to his head and he has to wave off a concerned Mianmian. “It's not hurting,” he reassures her, and when he looks up, he sees the guitarist so much closer, arms raised as if to help him. “Ah…maybe I shouldn't think about it just yet.” He can't look away, his eyes fixed upon him.

He's so fascinating. Mo XuanYu can't believe he knows him somehow, a being who seems closer to an ethereal God than a normal human person. 

“Dad, come and sit,” the lead singer says, pulling the guitarist even closer.

Mo XuanYu still can't force his eyes away from him. What the heck is wrong with him?

“You probably don't care, but I'm Wen Qing and this is my Didi, Wen Ning,” a sharp featured woman says, pushing the so much taller ex-guitarist forward and out of her way.

Her interruption is like ice being poured down his neck, and Mo XuanYu blinks, dragging his eyes away from the intensity of the moment. He smiles politely at her, and her younger brother gives Mo XuanYu an enthusiastic wave by wiggling his fingers. Mo XuanYu likes him already, he seems like a good-natured, friendly person. Easy to get along with.

“Tell me something,” he says, grinning at both of them, “which one of you is adopted? Just because there's no way someone as sweet as him can be biologically related to someone like you,” he adds. And then his exact words replay in his mind and he's standing up to bow to both of them. “I'm so sorry! You must think I'm the rudest person ever!” This is especially because Wen Qing lets out a choked sob, barely swallowing it.

“Oh, gods, I really am sorry,” Mo XuanYu rushes towards them. “Sometimes my mouth runs away and my brain is left trying to catch up. It's the knock on the head, and I hope you can forgive me. I'm probably one of the few people to be able to claim brain damage and not be joking!”

“Mo-Gongzi, it's alright,” Wen Ning, sweetest soul that he is, hastens to stop the word vomit that Mo XuanYu is spewing out right now. But then he adds, “It's just that it's exactly what you said the first time you met us together. Jie-Jie just didn't think you would repeat yourself. That's all.”

Everyone freezes.

Wow, Mo XuanYu thinks, feeling weirdly disorientated. What are the chances of that happening twice? Isn't it–shouldn't it be extremely rare?

“This is Uncle Four,” Luo QingYang brings the oldest member of the group forward, and somehow the normalness of the introduction lets all of them behave a bit regularly. 

Maybe Mo XuanYu should put away the weirdness of all this in a box inside his head and think about it later. Good plan.

Mo XuanYu nods at him after bowing, and then they're all lining up to get their lunch. It's an unspoken rule to let Uncle Four go first, followed by Wen Qing and Wen Ning. Mo XuanYu is pushed forward by Lan SiZhui, who once they reach the condiments section, picks up extra packets of hot sauce, his silver eyes twinkling merrily as he watches Mo XuanYu do the same. Luo QingYang is last after the guitarist. 

They sit down in the same formation as the queue for getting their food, and Luo QingYang tells them all to concentrate on eating first before they start talking, which will happen in another room because she has news. 

Her announcement makes everyone subconsciously eat faster and in no time at all, trays have been returned and the waste disposed of. Luo QingYang brings them all to the conference room where she had first shown the band the footage of when Wei WuXian had gone missing. Today, there's a large table in the centre of the room and twelve nicely upholstered chairs waiting for them. They match the royal blue carpet under their feet, contrasting well with the golden wooden furniture in the room.

Luo QingYang guides them all to their places, keeping Mo XuanYu close by her side.

“Let's not waste any time. Mo XuanYu isn't on the Witness Protection Scheme. We needed him not to be a threat to those who wished him harm back then, simply because of a lack of evidence.” She says that calmly, expecting a reaction, and she gets one. Several, in fact, and they're loud. But she's louder. “As I explained to you before, lots of things were and are happening simultaneously with Mo XuanYu's situation. Was it a gamble? Yes, but it paid off. See, at the time, corruption spread deeply and like a rot, worked its way up the legal system. A well known cop, on the cusp of promotion, exposed what he knew and it led to his death, something that could definitely have been avoided if certain facts had come to light. But as always, the real criminals are one step ahead of those who would bring them to justice. My boss was concerned that if he put Wei WuXian, or Mo XuanYu, into Witness Protection, someone would have found a way to get to him. There were many variables to consider but he really didn't want another casualty on his hands disguised to look like an accident.” Luo QingYang waits for them to absorb her words, giving them time to actually understand and process them. Then she continues. “Mo XuanYu's best chance of survival, then and now, is maintaining his amnesia and making sure nobody sees him as a threat. Hiding in plain sight.

“To that end, whatever we discuss must stay inside this room. We can't take the chance that unfriendly ears will overhear something to our disadvantage. Now, having said that, something happened last night. You may recall me mentioning that my boss suspected a power play move to take place. Well, he was right because Jin ZiXun passed away yesterday.”

“Passed away? Didn't you say he was one of your suspects?” Wen Qing sounds angry.

“I did. Also, not only the timing of his passing, but his actual death are suspicious. The cops are taking it as an accidental death but we believe it happened now, at this time, because of a ground-breaking new deal signed between Lotus Pier Productions and the Jin Conglomerate. Word is, Jin ZiXun was against the deal.” Luo QingYang looks grim.

“How did he die?” Mo XuanYu asks her cautiously. He doesn't know who Jin ZiXun is, and only because Wen Qing mentioned him does he understand that the unfamiliar person is important to Luo QingYang and whoever she's working for now.

There's so much he doesn't know or understand, and thinking too much about it is definitely going to make his head hurt.

“Apparently, he got drunk and choked on his own vomit.”

“How is he related to me? I don't know him,” Mo XuanYu rubs his temple anxiously. “How am I supposed to know who's got it in for me when I can't remember anything? Any stranger could want to hurt me and I'd never see them coming.” His breath is short, coming out of him in tiny gasps that are getting smaller by the second as the weight of his situation crashes down on him.

Coloured spots start dancing in front of him and pain erupts in his chest when suddenly a cold hand holds the back of his neck and pushes his head down between his knees. The shock of the position kick starts his lungs and finally Mo XuanYu takes a longer breath.

“Breathe with me,” a deep, melodious voice says. “In…that's right, and out…”

He knows this voice. He's heard it before. It makes him feel safe. It sounds as if the person knows what they're doing, and shocker! It feels like it's working. As Mo XuanYu concentrates on the sound of him, and letting go of his control to do exactly what he's being told to do, breathing in and out in a timely manner becomes so much easier. He taps the back of the hand holding him down and it immediately releases him.

When Mo XuanYu looks up again, he does it slowly but still, he is mesmerised by those beautiful golden eyes staring back at him. Worry and heartache are reflected back and Mo XuanYu just wants him to feel better.

“I'm okay,” he says shakily.

“Drink this,” Luo QingYang offers him a bottle of water which he takes and only after chugging down half of it, realises how thirsty he was.

Mo XuanYu blushes when he gives the bottle back and sees everyone looking at him. “Sorry…”

“No need.” Lan WangJi insists, and he glares at everyone else so hard, they immediately look away. “You are doing so well, Mo XuanYu. Better than I would be doing if I was in your position.”

“Really?” Mo XuanYu can't help asking and his voice sounds small even to his own ears.

“Mn. I do not lie.” Lan WangJi doesn't blink, staring at him so intensely that Mo XuanYu, while he's starting to like this particular form of attention, finds it embarrassing as well.

His cheeks are too hot and he makes grabby hands at the bottle of water. He drinks the rest of it, and when another is offered to him, he presses it against his cheeks instead, trying to cool off.

“We can stop if you want to rest,” Luo QingYang says, but she glances at her watch and that small action tells Mo XuanYu that they don't actually have as much time as she's offering. 

In fact, all the people in this room have put their lives on hold for him and that's a humbling realisation. He doesn't really know them…but they knew him before. And they must have liked him even a little bit to make this sacrifice of their time. The least he can do is try to make things easier for everyone. 

“No, I'm alright now.” Mo XuanYu looks directly at Lan WangJi. “Thank you. What you did really helped.”

“No need for thanks.” Lan WangJi gives him the tiniest, teeniest smile. All just for him.

Mo XuanYu thinks that if he were ever as energetic as a cheerleader, he would have done a hundred cartwheels out of jubilation for that reward. It feels like an accomplishment, a real achievement to make this man smile. Like he doesn't usually. 

Lan WangJi stands up and returns to his seat. Mo XuanYu immediately misses him, wishing he could have found a way to keep him close. 

Luo QingYang begins talking again.

“A-Yu, remember, you're not alone.”

The warm floating bubble bursts like a water balloon over his head, and Mo XuanYu pouts at her.

“I mean it,” she insists, fighting back a smile of her own. “You have me, and you have all of these people. All of us have your back unconditionally.” 

There's a hum of approval among the group, and it really does make him feel better. Mo XuanYu stands up and bows towards all of them. He's pushed back into his seat unceremoniously and that makes him giggle. After that, it's really a chain reaction because there's not a dry eye left in that room.

Once everyone calms down, Wen Qing asks a few questions. 

“Why is it such a big deal, this thing between Lotus Pier Productions and the Jin Conglomerate? Aren't they, like, two separate companies with different interests? How does it affect anyone, especially Mo XuanYu?”

“At the moment, our only connection is the Jins. Investigating them is like tracing along a spider's web of deceit and corruption, but understanding what it all means, who is involved and the ins and outs of how big the rabbit hole goes is what takes the most time. We must do everything by the book and find a judge with clean hands to make them pay. And all the while, we have to keep an eye on the bad guys waiting for their next move. Which brings me to the next thing on our agenda.” Luo QingYang gazes at Mo XuanYu for a long time. “I'm going to give you a choice,” she says softly, like dandelion seedlings floating on a thin breeze.

“A choice?” Mo XuanYu's mouth is suddenly dry, and as he takes a deep swallow from his water bottle, his eyes catch upon golden ones staring back intently. He yanks his attention back to Luo QingYang with burning cheeks. What is going on with this Lan WangJi? But he hasn't got time to think about it because Luo QingYang is still harping on about something important. Probably. 

“Ahuh. Please bear in mind that you still need to be Mo XuanYu.”

“Okay. Mianmian, it'll be okay.” He's always been able to tell when she's nervous and if it was a currency, she would be a gazillionaire. The need to reassure her, to make her feel better even at the cost of his own comfort, it's something he would do no matter what. Family means more than just hanging out together to him.

“I'm going to be needed by my boss. There are certain things that lie in my expertise and we're only gonna get one shot at this. I won't be able to keep an eye on you twenty-four seven, and that's the part that makes me uneasy. If you don't mind being on your own for the most part, then you're welcome to stay with me.” She searches his eyes but he's too busy thinking.

“In the same apartment?”

“Yeah. It's our cover story and a few of our neighbours aren't normal civilians.”

“Oh.” That's definitely new. Mo XuanYu didn't know that. It does make him feel better, that if he were to go back to his old apartment, he wouldn't be completely alone. “Would I still be working?”

Mo XuanYu feels waves of distrust and anger rolling off Lan WangJi even before he's finished speaking.

“Look, it's a legit question,” he defends himself. 

“I am not annoyed with you. I am furious at the situation that demands your time when really, you should be resting.” Lan WangJi speaks in controlled tones, his fury ripe and obvious. 

“Well, that's how us ordinary folk survive,” Mo XuanYu tries to laugh it off.

“I have something to tell you about Wei WuXian, but I do not know if it is appropriate to divulge now.” Lan WangJi says, the words bitten out with frustration. 

There's a lot going on in there, Mo XuanYu sees. It's like Lan WangJi goes around showing everyone an icy-capped mountain on the outside, his external mask when hidden inside him, he's chock full of seething emotions ready to blow them up into the air.

“Why can't you say it? What's inappropriate about him?” Mo XuanYu giggles again. “Is it something kinky?” And then he can't elaborate because his guesses aren't informed enough to make in-depth quips, plus his whole face is hot and resembles the chilli sauce he loves so much. What a day!

“No! I simply do not wish for whatever I say to trigger another attack!” Lan WangJi insists, and his ears go red.

Oh…jeez, he looks really upset about that.

“I think I'm okay,” Mo XuanYu stops laughing immediately and brings out his serious side. He hadn't thought about that. He's trying to put a lighthearted spin on his trauma and make everyone feel better about his situation, but these people are his family even if he can't remember them. They're going to be upset no matter what. 

“What does Ms. Luo think?” Lan WangJi immediately defers to her.

“Is it traumatic?” She asks that right off the bat.

“It's to do with money.”

“Mo XuanYu could do with some of that,” she says, amused. “Go ahead.”

“When we first started writing songs, it was predominantly Wei WuXian who had a knack of putting words and music together, specifically the songs he wrote which we still use now and again. But he made sure to put all of our names on them, as a band.” Lan WangJi shrugs now, looking straight at Mo XuanYu. “Everything the songs bring in is split six ways. We've done that from the beginning and Wei WuXian has his own account. All of us went with an independent bank that keeps the core amount but pays us the interest, and it's a significant amount. If Mo XuanYu doesn't want to work, he won't have to. That's all I want to say.” He calls out a number that makes Mo XuanYu's jaw drop in astonishment. 

But Luo QingYang is shaking her head.

“He can't touch a penny of it, not yet. If there's even a hint that Mo XuanYu is really Wei WuXian, through a stupid completely avoidable paper trail, you'll be putting his life on the line. Remaining as he is and working a low paid job, staying out of the limelight is the best cover. He's got to look genuinely down and in the gutter. Sorry,” she tells Mo XuanYu. 

“You said I had a choice. If I don't go with you, what are my options?” Mo XuanYu isn't a lazy person, but he just wants a break from the craziness that his life has become at the moment. Just some time away from real life so he can understand his situation that much better.

“You could stay here,” Luo QingYang replies, but she glances at Lan WangJi. 

“I have a better idea,” Lan WangJi says, clearly getting in the middle of this situation. “If Mo XuanYu agrees.”

“I'm listening,” Mo XuanYu replies, not even wasting the time it would take to glance at his friend.

“I am willing to fund a holiday for him, unlimited time until he feels better. We could relocate to the Cloud Recesses, and it's high up in the mountains. Not only would the fresh air aid in his health, but the area is secure. Nobody goes in or out without the main family's knowledge so he will be safe. I can remove anything that belongs to Wei WuXian so that Mo XuanYu can properly relax and recover. That is, if he doesn't mind my company.” Lan WangJi's ears deepen to a lovely shade of pink.

Mo XuanYu is immediately endeared.

“So what do you think?” Wen Qing asks him.

“I want to talk to Mianmian first.” Mo XuanYu stands up.

*****************

“I don't see anything wrong with his offer,” Luo QingYang admits when they're locked inside the bathroom. 

She's leaning back against a reasonably clean wall watching Mo XuanYu pace backwards and forwards, lost in thought.

“Pros?”

She lists them off her fingers one by one. “Security, mountain air, no working, paid holiday, delicious eye candy. What's not to like?”

“Cons?”

“You don't know them, things that were part of Wei WuXian's life will definitely be there, and so it stands to reason that the possibility of migraine attacks might increase…that's all I can come up with.” She grins back at him. “Would it be so bad to be his sugar baby?”

That's so cringe to him…but Mo XuanYu secretly admits to himself that it sounds nice. Not to have to worry about bills, electricity, water, the lot, or where his next meal is coming from. 

“A-Yu, you can say things too.” Luo QingYang tells him sympathetically. 

“Uh, like what?”

“Things that would make you feel safe, too. Like being there as a roommate, a no-strings-attached arrangement.”

“No strings attached?” His curiosity is piqued. 

“Ah, so…before Wei WuXian disappeared…he and Lan WangJi were in a committed relationship. They were boyfriends.”

“Really?” He squeaks, not budging from his spot. His wide eyes find Luo QingYang staring back at him.

“Really.”

“Lan WangJi…he's gay?”

“Very. He doesn't mind people knowing it, either.”

Mo XuanYu's wide eyes find a stain on the tile under his sneaker and tries to scrape it off. It is suddenly very interesting to look at.

“A-Yu, this is what I meant. You can talk about what makes you comfortable or uncomfortable, about the things that you think might set you off or have you deal with things that you don't particularly want to. And A-Yu, you will have my number. You can call me anytime and I'll be there. Nothing is permanent. If you wanna leave, just say the word.”

She comes closer and then Mo XuanYu is in her arms and they're hugging as tightly as possible. 

“A-Yu, you'll always, always be my little brother. It doesn't make a blind bit of difference to me who you are, whether you're Mo XuanYu today and Wei WuXian tomorrow, all that matters is you. Even if you never remember anything, I'm ready to tell my boss to fuck off. I mean that,” she insists firmly, laughing when Mo XuanYu looks up and around to make sure they're not being observed. 

“You give the best hugs,” Mo XuanYu tells her.

“Only for you.”

“I've decided.”

“Go on.”

“I choose Lan WangJi. No offence, but we both know you work better if you don't have to babysit me.”

“That's not the only reason, is it?” As always, Luo QingYang sees too much.

Mo XuanYu shakes his head. “I can't hide from the truth all my life. If I don't try to reconcile both the different aspects of myself, I think I would regret being a coward about it. And I'm curious, honestly. I want to know who Wei WuXian was.” Mo XuanYu bites down on his bottom lip because it's trembling. 

With shining eyes wet and full of emotion, Luo QingYang kisses his forehead. “I'm proud of you.”

He beams back at her. “Then I guess I'm going back to Gusu.”