[ open post: Lan Wangji, training ]

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji is upside-down.

This is not unusual for him, although he is more used to practicing this in the company of students, his brother, or his husband.¹ Recently, however, his mind has come up against more turmoil than he would prefer, and turmoil of a variety that is unusual for him. It can't go amiss to return himself to the basics of his training.

He is in a small enough room, largely bare aside from the stick of sandalwood incense² he has set burning on a side table. Its scent drifts into the hallway, and anyone who follows it to the source may see a white-clad cultivator standing on his hands.

Well: standing on his hand. Lan Wangji needs one only to keep himself aloft, his body straight as an arrow. His hair is pulled into a ponytail so that it may pool off to one side over his neck and onto the floor rather than spilling in all directions, the long ends of his forehead ribbon tucked into the same tie and falling in the same way. He is in trousers and an undershirt of a decent heft, in deference to the fact that he is arguably in public.³

With the hand that is not currently holding him up, Lan Wangji is holding an ink brush. He is copying, from memory, the lines of a sutra.

¹Wei Ying is not good at it. Particularly not in his second body.
²This may explain it to anyone who has been wondering why he always smells faintly of sandalwood himself.
³If he does this in their quarters, Wei Ying insists it must be done with nothing on his torso at all. Lan Wangji invariably becomes distracted. Now anyone else is welcome to distract him (in a different way, ideally).

Comments

[agula]

"I am poorly educated in medicine," Qi Yan admits. She hesitates, wondering if it is safe to admit the details of her health. If he is not a doctor, he may not recognize the discrepancy in her story—that surviving a plague would cause a "fire condition," whereas what she has is a "water condition." "The condition I have is aggravated by cold and damp. If any of your medicines encourage heat or dryness within the body, they should be suitable." And she will have to think of something else for when those herbs run out.

[lightbearinglord]

The Cloud Recesses itself tends toward the cold and the damp, and so the Lan doctors are well-equipped for such ailments. Lan Wangji nods, makes a quick gesture to snuff his stick of incense, and says, "Come with me."

They are not far from Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's shared bedchamber, and the journey is quick, even allowing for the need to slow down for Qi Yuanjun.

Lan Wangji opens the door to reveal the room -- it's odd to look at, sometimes, still, a mash of the unfamiliar architectural style of the mansion and the more familiar style of the jingshi in its furniture and decor. Wei Ying has not made the bed properly; Lan Wangji will correct him later. There is a crimson inner robe strewn across the floor. Lan Wangji picks it up and folds it as he goes. "My husband," he says by way of explanation.

[agula]

A ghost of a smile flickers across Qi Yan's face; Nangong Jingnu is also quite messy. So young master Lan is a cutsleeve. Qi Yan is hardly shocked by that, but it surprises her how easily he reveals it. Perhaps it is more acceptable in his country. She will not comment on his personal business. "The style of your rooms is indeed more similar to my own world, as you suggested on our first meeting," she says instead. "It's somewhat comforting. I would be interested to discover where the differences lie."

[lightbearinglord]

"Mn. I had presumed we came from the same world until late in that meeting." Lan Wangji finds the qiankun pouch he is seeking quickly enough. Wei Ying knows better than to meddle with Lan Wangji's organizational system for his own belongings.

Within it, he rummages until he finds what he is looking for: another packet of herbs, a handful of pills in a tightly-wrapped cloth, and a small container of medicinal tea. These he offers to Qi Yuanjun without comment.

[agula]

She takes them and bows again in thanks. "Qi Yuanjun is indebted to you." She is about to again offer her assistance if he needs anything, but what could he need that she could provide? She has no practical skills, such as medicine, cooking or combat—besides archery, which she hasn't practiced in years. Her skills are all useless here, unless Lan Wangji wishes to take over a country. "It's not anything exceptional¹, but I have some minor skill at calligraphy. If you have ink and a brush, I would like to inscribe something in exchange for such kindness."

¹It is.

[lightbearinglord]

Perhaps it goes without saying, but Lan Wangji could hardly be less interested in taking over a country. Not that such things matter here.

He does, however, have a sincere interest in calligraphy. From his waist he draws another qiankun pouch, the one he typically carries¹ at all times. Out of it he pulls xuan paper, an inkstone, an inkstick, and a brush. There is a low table in the room, with two cushioned stools, at which he and Wei Ying typically take meals. It's only a moment's work (and would be less, if Wei Ying were more diligent about tidiness) to clear that, array the supplies, and nod toward Qi Yuanjun. A brief touch of his qi fills the well of the inkstone with water for grinding the ink.

¹This one contains Nina's jurda parem, which he promised to keep safe, and so it does not leave his person.

[agula]

Qi Yan startles a little at Lan Wangji making water appear with a touch, but her reaction is hardly noticeable. She was told already that people here have unusual abilities. It only serves to confirm that their worlds are different indeed. It is almost stranger that he seems so thoroughly Wei. She does not like not knowing where the differences are, where she might step wrongly in ignorance.

She returns his nod, and takes her seat. It's soothing, after such a strange week, to sit and grind ink as she might have done back in the Guanquan Palace. She thinks about the inscription as she grinds. Lan Wangji appears reserved; he would probably like something classical. Perhaps her own melancholy influences the choice as well. Once prepared, she dips the brush and writes: "After rain, the forest is sleek / Between the pines, the moon startles my heart. / I smile and think of home / A foreign guest in a foreign land."¹

¹"After Rain" by Yue Fu.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji observes this with quiet focus, availing himself of the second seat and tugging the tie from his hair so that it, and his forehead ribbon, are free. He devotes some energy to straightening said ribbon, but this is a familiar enough action that it doesn't pull his attention from Qi Yuanjun. There's a meditative pleasure to watching someone very skilled at their work. Lan Wangji is quite good at calligraphy; Qi Yuanjun is better.

The choice of poem, too, tugs at his interest and his sympathies. He won't comment on that, but he watches Qi Yuanjun's face for a moment before he says, calmly, "You're talented." This is an extremely sincere compliment coming from him.

[agula]

Qi Yan is not naturally talented, but she has worked very hard for this skill. The simplicity of this statement touches her; he is not saying it to flatter her. She finishes her work, then stands, cups her hands and bows in acknowledgment. "A meager skill in exchange for aid I could not do without. May it bring you some enjoyment."

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji nods; it will. He will keep it and treasure it, as with nearly everything he has been gifted throughout his life. Most of those belongings are left behind in Gusu, and he's pleased for something with which to start the new collection.

He stands in turn to mirror Qi Yuanjun's bow. "I have no more medicine, but once that is depleted, I may still be able to assist with my spiritual power."

[agula]

She's surprised by how grateful she feels for the offer. Qi Yan does not typically seek out care. She only feels she must keep herself alive for Nangong Jingnu, and for Nangong Jingnu, there are many things she would do that do not come easily. She did not realize how isolated she felt in that endeavor. "Many thanks. I hope that is not our only opportunity to meet again."

[lightbearinglord]

"Find me anytime you have need of me." Lan Wangji has said this, or some variation on this, to several people at the mansion, and he always means it, but there's a certain additional meaning to saying it to someone whose company he has just sincerely enjoyed.