Anyone can tell that Lan Wangji absolutely dotes on his new son, Lan Yuan. The child barely has to cry before Lan Wangji is at his side with an offer of sweets or a new toy in hand to soothe him. The elders whisper behind his back about spoiling the child rotten and more than a few of them have visited him about handing the child off to some of the more capable attendants like all other children raised in the clan.

As far as Lan Wangji is concerned, they can take their concerns and shove it. Lan Wangji is adamant about raising Lan Yuan, Wei Ying's last gift to him, by himself. He refuses any and all attempts at meddling and protects the child with a paternal ferocity that has even Lan Xichen raising an eyebrow in apprehension.

Nearly two months after finding and adopting Lan Yuan, Lan Wangji begins to notice an odd quirk of his child. Lan Yuan is a sweet quiet independent thing, highly adept at playing games by himself for his own amusement. He is remarkably low-maintenance which is a blessing on Lan Wangji's part who only needs to bring a few toys and snacks with him into his office to keep Lan Yuan entertained for the entire day. It makes it easy to keep Lan Yuan by his side and to keep an eye on him while he handles the paperwork.

It also greatly restricts the amount of interaction Lan Yuan has with others his own age but the child seems unbothered by the lack of playmates so Lan Wangji sees no reason to change their behavior. The entire clan is wholly disapproving of the new child, mutterings about Lan Yuan being his "bastard child" float around him more often than not. Despite his cold, uncaring aura, even Lan Wangji can tell that his son would be unwelcome in the play groups they have set up for the children who are not yet of age to start cultivation training so he keeps his son close, almost to the point of smothering the small child.

Luckily, his son is also extremely attached to Lan Wangji, clutching tightly to his leg whenever they venture out of their rooms if Lan Wangji isn't already carrying the small boy in his arms. They are rarely seen apart from each other which only adds fuel to the rumor that the child is his secret blood-related son borne out of wedlock.

These nasty rumors aren't a cause for concern—he holds himself above these things and teaches Lan Yuan to do the same—though Lan Wangji can't help but wonder if perhaps the condemnation and isolation had triggered his son's unique… gift. During a rather uneventful day in Lan Wangji's office, he looks over to Lan Yuan playing with two grass butterflies. The boy is in the middle of arranging them in a particular pattern on the ground.

"No, that's not how you're supposed to play with them," Lan Yuan scolds a seemingly unseen entity, setting one of the butterflies a little further away. "It's supposed to go like this."

Lan Yuan goes quiet like he's listening closely to something. His gray eyes are focused intensely on the butterfly farther away from him. Then he lets out a peal of laughter, sweet and innocent. His moonlight silver eyes stare at the empty space in front of him with disconcerting concentration and occasionally his child nods in agreement—it's actually a bit unsettling from the point of view of an outsider.

It shouldn't worry him too much; plenty of children have imaginary friends but Lan Wangji can't help the small inkling of dread that curls in his stomach. Perhaps Lan Wangji should be more concerned considering what they do for a living but the Cloud Recesses have been warded up so tightly that Lan Wangji highly doubts anything malicious would be able to make it through the protective barrier. And even if it did, Lan Wangji would be the first person to sense anything malevolent lingering around his own child.

So he passes it off as a child's imagination and thinks nothing of it.

It only gets stranger from there though.

Besides playing imaginary games, Lan Yuan also enjoys painting and he is abnormally skilled for someone of his age. Lan Wangji can't help but wonder if Wei Wuxian had time to pass on his love of painting to their child before his death. The thought sends a sharp pang to his heart and he tries not to dwell on it for very long. Instead he decides to foster this talent, gifting Lan Yuan with as much high quality paper and ink to draw as he wants. It's enough to keep the child occupied for hours and Lan Wangji displays the child's masterpieces proudly in their room and in his office.

They're mostly depictions of his favorite foods or his favorite toys. Some of the more intricate ones display the landscape of Gusu Lan, the mountains, the waterfalls, the thousand-year-old architecture. They're so well done that even Lan Xichen has a couple of them hanging up in his office and makes a point to mention them to anyone who visits, boasting about his nephew's remarkable ability.

"Look!" Lan Yuan raises the sheet of paper up with undisguised pride. Curiously, Lan Wangji takes it and freezes when he realizes what he sees.

It's Wei Ying with his trademark mischievous smile and his sharp eyes. He's portrayed sitting next to Lan Yuan who is holding his grass butterflies in his hand and demonstrating how to play with them. Beside them is Lan Wangji who is staring at the two with a look of serene contentment. The facial features on each person is drawn with painstaking detail, it's almost like the characters will jump right off the page.

He looks so happy in the picture, Lan Wangji notes as something hard rises in his throat and threatens to strangle his chest. Wei Ying looks so happy watching over their beautiful child. Even more, Lan Wangji himself looks happy in the portrait, so much happier than he has actually felt in a long time.

"Who is this, A-Yuan?" Lan Wangji asks in a barely audible voice. Lan Yuan opens his mouth to reply before abruptly pausing, head tilted like he's listening to something or someone. Lan Wangji watches the exchange with something akin to morbid fascination and nearly startles when Lan Yuan's big silver eyes focus back on him.

"It's nothing," Lan Yuan mumbles, lowering the paper and shuffling his feet in front of him. "I'll draw something else."

Before the boy can dart back to his desk, Lan Wangji places a gentle hand on his child's shoulder.

"A-Yuan, can I have this?" Lan Wangji asks softly, gesturing to the paper clutched tight in Lan Yuan's fist. His son must see the sorrow in his golden eyes because the boy relinquishes the sheet without a single protest.

"I'm glad you like it, Father," A-Yuan responds shyly before going back to his paper and inks, blissfully unaware of the utter turmoil he has caused.

Lan Wangji remains holding onto that painting for a long time, eyes tracing the silhouette of a forgotten man over and over again as if he stares long enough, the figure will come to life in front of him.

The day Lan Yuan receives his disciple forehead ribbon and begins cultivation training, Lan Wangji takes his son to teach him how to play Inquiry. The lake is tranquil and the moon is bright, illuminating their white robes and the cloud print pattern on his son's new headband. Lan Wangji is reminded of all the other times he has come here to play the exact same melody and hoping, praying, yearning desperately for an answer that never comes. A part of him is hopeful that Wei Wuxian will be here today. Surely, he would answer for his son. Surely, he would appear for the child they had taken care of together.

"You can talk to spirits with this?" Lan Yuan asks with a doubtful frown. He pats the guqin with tiny dubious fingers. "How does that work?"

"You summon the spirits with a song and ask them questions," Lan Wangji explains, "Certain words correspond to notes on the guqin and when we play them, we can ask the spirits questions and they can answer."

"I don't get it," Lan Yuan pouts with the impatience of his young age. "It looks too hard. Why don't you just talk to them like normal?"

The question is delivered with such frankness that Lan Wangji can't help but stare at his child who stubbornly stares right back. His obstinacy reminds him so dearly of his Wei Ying that Lan Wangji can feel a tightness forming in the back of his throat. Look at our son, Wei Ying. Come back to me and see what we have raised together.

"Spirits don't talk with words that we can understand," Lan Wangji explains patiently to a Lan Yuan who looks more and more skeptical as the lesson progresses.

The frown on Lan Yuan's face deepens, "I don't get it."

"Let me show you," Lan Wangji strums a couple of notes, the beginning of Inquiry shimmering in the air. The lake in front of them begins to glow and the water levitates. As always, he asks the same question he has been asking for the past few years.

Where is Wei Ying?

The water turns into droplets that hover and dance around them as he continues to pluck the strings, weaving an intricate melody that glistens like starlight in the air. Lan Wangji searches every recess of his heart and pours all his longing, all of his love and pain into the song, calling forth the spirits to answer his query.

Where is Wei Ying?

"The spirit says they don't know anything," Lan Yuan pipes up even before an answering note can be strummed on his guqin by the spirit. Lan Wangji startles so badly that his concentration is shattered and the water falls back to the lake with a splash. "They don't know anyone named Wei Ying."

Lan Wangji stares at his child who blinks large fathomless silver eyes at him. He's never noticed it before but Lan Yuan's eyes remind him so much of Wei Ying's. The same pretty silver color, the same otherworldly aura.

He can't suppress the shiver that runs up his spine.

"How-?"

"This looks so hard," Lan Yuan interrupts with a wrinkle his nose in distaste and turns back to the lake. "I don't get why we have to do it like this."

"It's the best way to communicate with spirits," Lan Wangji helplessly tries to relay this to his child who scrunches his face further.

They spend a few more minutes inquiring the spirits with the guqin but Lan Wangji can tell that the boy in his lap is growing more and more restless with each and every question asked and answered. The spirits themselves know nothing.

"I still don't get it," Lan Yuan sighs in resignation when Lan Wangji concludes the song.

In the end, Lan Wangji is left with more questions than answers.

"A-Yuan," Lan Wangji calls out to his son.

"Yes, Father?" Lan Yuan turns from the corner he's situated himself in. He's playing with his toys again, but there is no mention of another imaginary friend anymore. In fact, if Lan Wangji takes a moment to ponder, it's been a long time since he has seen Lan Yuan staring off into space. Perhaps it had been just a phase. Lan Wangji doesn't know if he truly believes in that or if the alternative would crush him.

"Do you want a mother?"

Perhaps all this talk of spirits has made Lan Yuan yearn for an absent mother figure in his life. Lan Yuan has never inquired about having a mother but Lan Yuan is such a quiet, undemanding child, it's hard to truly discern he wants sometimes.

"What are you talking about?" Lan Yuan inquires innocently.

And then he says something that chills Lan Wangji to his very bones.

"Mother is right here."

"What?"

"Mother is right here," Lan Yuan repeats with the same eerie look before turning his eyes to something past Lan Wangji's shoulder, "He says his name is Wei Ying."

And then Lan Yuan turns to the presence that only he can see. It's the first time Lan Wangji has seen his son address the spirit right in front of him so blatantly and it's highly unnerving. Lan Wangji is tempted to snatch his child up into his arms and run out of the Jingshi to call for backup but before he can give into the impulse, Lan Yuan speaks.

"Mother's name is Wei Ying," Lan Yuan's voice is utterly enraptured, a child's adoration for his parent. "You've never told me your name before, Mother."

His son's little arms go around what is clearly someone, hugging them tightly.

Lan Wangji can feel the blood freeze in his veins even as his heart speeds up in his chest. Everything seems to slow down and stop all at once even as the room spins in his vision. It can't be. It's not possible. There is no possible way.

Immediately his eyes begin darting left and right as if he can see Wei Ying's ghost if he tries hard enough but all his efforts are futile. The only occupants in the room are him and Lan Yuan who watches him carefully from his place by the apparition.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji whispers as tears begin to form in his eyes. "Where is he, A-Yuan?"

Lan Yuan, startled by the sudden crystalline tears fall down his father's face, meekly takes his father's hand and moves it toward the empty space. "Mother is right here. He's holding your hand right now."

Lan Wangji tries to keep very still but his fingers tremble where Lan Yuan holds it in the air. He closes his eyes and allows himself to just feel. It must have been a trick of the mind, but Lan Wangji swears that he can feel the faintest brush of air across his palm. It's so slight that it must have been his imagination but he wants to believe otherwise.

"Mother wants to tell you something."

Lan Wangji can barely breathe.

"What is it?"

"Mother says he misses the taste of Emperor's Smile wine and that you should share the stash you have hidden under the floorboards," Lan Yuan relays and then frowns. "Father, isn't alcohol forbidden in the Cloud Recesses? Why do you have alcohol under the floorboards?"

There is no possible way anyone could have given Lan Yuan that information. No one, not even his own brother, knows about the secret stash of Emperor's Smile he's kept hidden in the Jingshi, one jar for each year of Wei Ying's death.

It truly is Wei Ying. Lan Wangji lets out a choked laugh of disbelief, his other hand coming up to cup over his mouth. Wei Ying is still here with them. Wei Ying is watching over their child. After all these years, all those nights playing Inquiry until his fingers bled carmine, Wei Ying has chosen to come back to him through their son.

It is only fitting that Wei Ying would be so contrary. Their interactions in life had been nothing but Lan Wangji fruitlessly chasing after Wei Ying's shadow, so close yet always a step behind. Even in death, Wei Ying still somehow found a way to ensnare him and tempt him to chase after his ghost. It is only fitting.

"Lan Yuan, can he hear me?"

Lan Yuan's face scrunches up in concentration before he shakes his head, "No, Mother's soul is very weak. Something bad happened to Mother when he died and he's so tired, so very small now."

How could Lan Wangji forget? He is the reason for this. He is the reason why Lan Yuan calls for a mother whom no one can see.

"Then can you tell your mother that I am sorry?" Lan Wangji whispers as his heart thrums in his chest, "I am sorry for not protecting him."

"Mother says you have nothing to apologize for," Lan Yuan relays with a soft smile.

Lan Wangji has a million questions he wants to ask Wei Ying and a million more things to say to him but all of them seem to desert him at this moment. In the end, there is only one thing Lan Wangji wants to know.

"Can you ask Wei Ying if he is happy?"

Lan Yuan's eyes are almost luminous as he speaks to Wei Ying.

"Mother is very happy," Lan Yuan says before his face blushes a pink hue and his face lights up, "And he wants to say thank you for raising me."

"Then I am glad," Lan Wangji smiles. He holds his arms out for Lan Yuan who runs into them and curls into his embrace. "I am so glad to call you my son, Lan Yuan."

Wei Wuxian has only been alive for a couple of hours but he's having the time of his life acting like a raving lunatic. He's always been a mischievous spirit and finds it fitting that his first act in this new body is play acting and messing people's shit up.

He's chased that worthless annoying brat back to his home and dismounts from his ride, weaving through the people trying to subdue him. The young master Mo is heading into a hall and Wei Wuxian is hot on his heels, ready to give that little impudent thing a piece of his mind.

As he stumbles in, he notices the guests in white robes and cloud printed headbands on the left. Two youths stare at him, one in incredulous shock and the other with disquieting tranquility.

They're Gusu Lan cultivators. Wei Wuxian thinks even as he dodges the hands of those rude servants and scrambles around the hall in a merry chase.

He dives behind the quieter looking Lan boy as the pesky young master tries to snatch him away. Luckily, Gusu Lan seems to still uphold their austere teachings even now and the Lan child protects him.

"Young… master Mo, please be assured that whatever transgressions you have with this person, this disciple's is much more important," the boy says in a calm tone. Wei Wuxian pauses at that and looks up.

The Lan disciple turns unearthly silver eyes toward him. There's something familiar about those eyes, something deep and disconcerting in their moonlight depths. Wei Wuxian knows those eyes.

The boy smiles serenely at him.

"Hello, Mother."