Lan Wangji finished the final strokes of his protective array and circled back towards the gardens. Leaving Wei Wuxian alone with the juniors was a concern only for what they may accidentally reveal to him about their senior, and that was no real concern at all. He thought about Wei Wuxian's wrists and took a slow, careful breath. He couldn't ask, but still... he wondered. From their reactions, the juniors had drawn their own conclusions about the relationship between them.

Hope was a powerful addiction.

If Lan Sizhui was correct, Lan Wangji's brother had been night hunting somewhere in the area. Lan Wangji turned and strode in the opposite direction, where his compass indicated a strong source of malevolent energy. He was well outside the bounds of the town now, the night dark and quiet around him.

Lan Wangji had done this a thousand times, a decade of lonely night hunts in towns of all sizes, wherever he sensed he could be of help. Thousands upon thousands of corpses and restless spirits. Yet this time, he keenly felt how alone he was.

Had he so quickly become used to having a partner at his side?

Sensing attention on his back and that it lacked any killing intent, Lan Wangji turned around to face it.

"Wangji," said Lan Xichen, finishing the final few steps across the way to greet him. "You surprise me."

"Brother," acknowledged Lan Wangji. "I was looking for you."

"Where have you been?" asked Lan Xichen. His expression was tight with worry. "I heard you had left the Cloud Recesses to investigate the corpse's arm you brought back... and that you took Mo Xuanyu with you!"

The depth of his brother's concern, coupled with a faint hint of distaste, indicated that perhaps one of the Lan disciples had been bending the rule against talking behind another's back. Lan Wangji hoped Lan Jingyi had been punished appropriately.

"Not Mo Xuanyu," corrected Lan Wangji. "Wei Wuxian."

"Wei—"

Lan Wangji nodded.

Lan Xichen was silent.

Lan Wangji waited. He knew his face was perfect, that no hint of his feeling would break its blank visage, but he sensed his brother could read him anyway. His expression was neutral, but his heart was pounding with joy-hope-wonder-relief.

His brother's face moved through several different expressions of its own before settling on concern. "When you met Jiang Wanyin at Dafan Mountain, did he say something—"

"I'm not mistaken," said Lan Wangji. His brother still looked doubtful. "Do you think I could be mistaken about something like this?" He put the slightest emphasis on the I and wondered if that was impolite.

Lan Xichen slowly shook his head. "No. But how—"

"Irrelevant," said Lan Wangji. There was no use in admitting that he had yet to induce Wei Wuxian to elaborate on that topic. "Brother, there is much I need to tell you. This corpse is very powerful and we are not the only parties interested in its fate."

He caught Lan Xichen up with the events of the past weeks as succinctly as possible, watching as his brother's face grew more drawn with every new detail.

"This is very serious," said Lan Xichen.

Lan Wangji nodded.

"How could we have missed it? For this corpse to be so powerful as to escape its bindings, for Xue Yang to be in league with this gravedigger... I don't like the picture this is painting."

Lan Wangji said nothing. He wondered if the picture his brother saw was the same as the one that was slowly building in his own mind. At the moment it was vague, just indistinct washes and thick brush strokes, still too abstract to understand the artist's vision. But he had the sense that would he could make out was only the beginning, and that the whole would be steeped in blood red.

Lan Xichen tapped his finger on his crossed arms. "You're certain Wei Wuxian isn't involved? Resentful energy is his domain, and the arm first appeared in Mo Village, after all. For that matter, Xue Yang studied his works extensively."

Now who sounds as if he's been spending time with Jiang Wanyin? Lan Wangji thought, but didn't say. His brother had none of his own affection for the Yiling Patriarch of before. He bit back his anger and tried to look at the situation objectively. This Wei Wuxian had adapted to his new face and second chance with the same enthusiasm he applied to any new challenge. Now that nobody looked on him with fear he seized the chance to talk to strangers and children; he slipped into the role of teacher to bemused young disciples with ease; he laughed and teased as if two decades of pain were completely erased.

"He has been with me since we left Dafan Mountain," he pointed out, at last. More arguments sprang to mind. He had saved Jin Ling, taking his curse mark onto himself instead. He helped bring down Xue Yang. If it hadn't been for Wei Wuxian, the sects would now be mourning their junior disciples instead of scolding them.

But if Lan Xichen was unwilling to trust in Wei Wuxian's intentions, he could at least trust Lan Wangji's integrity and ability to control him.

Lan Xichen's eyes went wide. "But where is he now? Did you leave him with the juniors?"

Without acknowledging his brother's alarm, he said, "Yes. I left them in the Garden of Annual Blossoms. They should be safe there."

But as he thought about it, a deep sense of foreboding came over him. "The corpse," he breathed. "We were so distracted in Yi City... It must be growing restless by now. I need to go back."

As one, they turned and drew their swords. They flew silently through the night, listening, and the desperate cries of his name as they approached the garden confirmed Lan Wangji's worst fears. He retrieved his guqin and Lan Xichen joined him with Liebing. The distinctive tones of Lan cultivation would reach the garden long before its players could.

When they saw the reassembled form of their dear friend flickering in the firelight, Lan Wangji heard his brother gasp and knew that he had seen the same thing Lan Wangji had.

Every new stroke in this picture just made it more difficult to understand!