The Great Five, having sent off the children to their rooms, sprinted towards the Mingshi — the Lans' spirit-summoning watchtower. The Mo Long Hu's 'Devil's horns' were preserved here by the Chief Cultivator, who fully understood its potential of danger. Anxious, yet determined, the two Jades of Lan, the Prides of Yunmeng, Nie Huaisang and his fan, all burst through the iron doors and approached the horns.

Strings of black smoke wafted through the room, centred around each horn. The others watched, shock flooding their expressions, as Wei Wuxian, one arm around his husband's neck, clutched his left ear with his free hand, and buried his right ear into Lan Zhan's chest, mumbling, "No, shut up, stop wailing... laughing... SHUT UP!" He screamed, trying desperately to block out the screeching voices filling his head. They were the cries of the countless spirits here in the room: only the demonic cultivator could hear it all. Lan Wangji carefully laid Wei Wuxian down by a wall, summoned Wangji, and flew his fingers across the strings. A flash of piercing blue light sped across the Mingshi as all the shrieks and wails came to an abrupt end. For two minutes, everything was silent. But then...

"No, Lan Zhan, you're enraging it," a feeble whisper echoed through the watchtower.

The atmosphere around the horns grew darker. Suddenly, more threads of black floated into the Mingshi, before stopping for a second, then crashing at full speed towards the group of four standing in the middle of the room. Immediately, Liebing and Zidian were out. One's music wafted through the air, momentarily hypnotising the approaching spirits. The other used this short break to slash through them all. The aggravated horns, calmed by the music, stilled in mid-air, and a golden fan came flying at it, striking them down on the ground, finally lifeless.

"WOAH, Huaisang, you've improved!"

"Jiang-xiong," Huaisang began, summoning back his beloved fan, "I should live up to my friends' names, shouldn't I? Can't shame my Wei-xiong and Er-Ge after all!"

Jiang Cheng was about to ask 'What about me?' when a loud roar shook the Mingshi. The horns were shaking on the ground, like a fish brought out of the water, before shooting back up, and letting out another monstrous battle roar. With the roar, it sent its spirits flying at the four cultivators, sending the one standing at the front sliding a few steps back, his hand on his chest.

"LAN ZHAN! Are you alright?"

"Mn, I'm fine, it just pushed me a bit."

"Does your chest hurt?" Xichen asked.

"No, it can't harm me, just forced me back."

That was the last straw. He had laid on a side all this time. But not anymore. This was the last thing he could tolerate. "That's it, you are so dead," came the smirking words spoken by a terribly evil voice. The other four stared, terrified, as the Yiling Patriarch somehow got up, stumbled forth towards the horns, took out Chenqing, and played. The tune whistled through everyone's ears, eerie, bone-chilling. Huaisang was shivering. Jiang Cheng was half-smiling. Xichen was fascinated at his skill. But Lan Wangji... was worried. He had a bad feeling. After all, they weren't soul-bound for nothing!

But Wei Wuxian kept walking forward, the black smoke now circling around him and his Chenqing. After some time, he hit a shrill high-pitch note and the smoke exploded, disappearing on the spot. Another high note and the horns stilled, and dropped to the floor, clanging. Putting Chenqing back in his belt, Wei Wuxian drew a blood talisman and sealed the horns in a box-like structure made completely out of spiritual energy. He smirked at the now powerless, suppressed horns. He first spoke to the four staring at his back, "It's sealed forever. Nothing can break it. Absolutely nothing but myself." Then he turned to the monstrous horns. "THAT is what happens when you mess with my husband."

He rotated away from the horns and walked towards his husband. Lan Wangji, still feeling anxious for some reason, walked to him too. But the moment he touched his dearest, the younger coughed, spitting out blood all over Lan Wangji's pristine white robes.

"Oh no, I've ruined your dress again, just like back then... Sorry, Lan Zhan..." the last words were barely a whisper as he fell into Lan Zhan's arms, unconscious.

********** 

"JIN LING! You can't just barge in! The Jingshi is out of bounds, unless invited!" Jingyi was running behind Jin Ling, trying to stop him.

"I DON'T CARE! THAT'S THE MAN WHO'S CLOSEST TO MOTHER, AND HE'S DYING! You stay, I'm going!"

"Jingyi, Jin Ling, both of you stop shouting."

"Sizhui–"

"We'll all go." 

Jingyi stared open-mouthed at Sizhui, who replied, "That's my daddy. He's your father, too, don't deny it. Now come." Sizhui pulled the two shocked boys along with him to the Jingshi.

Inside the Jingshi, three teenagers and three youths huddled around a table, while one paced up and down, waiting. Right then, the Lan head physician walked out.

"Chief Cultivator."

Lan Wangji was immediately by Wei Ying's side. Taking his hand in both of his own, he asked the physician how his husband was doing.

"Well... Master Wei has used up so much spiritual energy, we must be happy he didn't bleed from all seven orifices! I will send a herbal potion for his internal wounds, and an ointment for his leg wound — it has worsened. Sect Leader Jin, and Young Masters Lan, I leave it up to you three, his sons, to somehow feed him the potion: it can get extremely bitter for Master Wei. Zewu-Jun, could you apply the ointment? Sect Leader Nie, please come with me to help. Chief Cultivator, while the treatment is being done, you and someone else, two people, should give him spiritual energy for a full two hours." The cunning physician avoided addressing Sect Leader Jiang, but clearly left only him for the someone else. Huaisang teasingly waved his fan at Jiang Cheng, bowed to the half-conscious Wei-xiong, and walked out with the physician.

Jiang Cheng, without uttering a single word, sat on the other edge of the bed, beside his brother and brother-in-law, and they all together waited for the medicine.

Huaisang came in a few moments later, each hand cradling a bottle. He gave the smaller one to Zewu-Jun and the larger to Jin Ling. The group set to work. Huaisang held the bottle of ointment while Xichen slowly applied the ointment, caressing the leg when Wei Wuxian groaned in pain. Up front, the three sons set to work, cautiously dripping drops of potion down the Yiling Patriarch's throat.

He spit it out a few times; despite being unconscious and asleep, he was still picky!

Somehow, in the end, the trio succeeded, having sent down the potion drop by drop into his stomach.

On the other hand, two anxious brothers-in-law sat on either side of Wei Ying, their spiritual energy gushing out though their palms and into the weak man's core, where Mo Xuanyu's weaker core was celebrating the entrance of such powerful energy, some of it strands of blue, some sparks of purple, both being eagerly accepted by the Jiang-Lan-by-marriage disciple's body. After two hours, the two reluctantly stopped: it was best to stick strictly to the physician's advice, no matter how much they were willing to give — both were ready to give their cores to him. One's core belonged to the man in the first place, while the other's heart was his.

After some time, Wei Wuxian woke up, smiled at Lan Zhan and thanked them all. He had heard all the physician had said, but fallen unconscious afterwards.

"Gege, Nie-xiong, thank you, the leg feels a lot better. You three," he laughed weakly, "I don't care if you're my sons, I'll get my vengeance once I am up and walking again, you wait and see." He wiggled a pale finger at the trio, who laughed in return. "Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng, I have a question."

"Mn?"

"What now?"

He placed Lan Zhan's hand on his heart. "Lan Zhan..."

He started pointing at each person in the room. "He's Gege, he's Nie-xiong, they are my sons A-Ling, A-Yuan and Yiyi. You? Can I call you... A-Zhan?"

Lan Zhan gasped. To Wei Wuxian's horror, tears slowly emerged from the depths of those gorgeous eyes.

"Lan Zhan, if you don't like it, then I won't..."

"No, Didi, it's just our mother was the only one who called him that." Xichen was smiling through the tears.

"Mn. Please, A-Ying, please do. I like it."

It was Wei Wuxian's turn to gasp. "What did you call me?"

Lan Zhan reddened, making everyone present laugh.

"A-...A-Ying—" he choked as Wei Wuxian pull him into a tight hug, crashing their chests together. The elders smirked, the children saw nothing but the walls and their shoes.

Someone cleared his throat. "I thought someone wanted to ask me something?"

"Jiang Cheng, such a spoiler..."

"Wei Wuxian, you can kiss him all you like later, now speak."

"Fine!... Jiang Cheng, can I call you... A-Cheng?"

Silence. No response. Everyone worried the Angry Lotus had fainted, but he just sat there, tears streaming down his cheeks. Xichen gaped at the rare, strangely beautiful sight of a crying Sandu Shengshou, itching to walk over.

"Jiang Cheng..." Wei Wuxian began, regret filling every inch of his voice.

"Don't regret it. It's just... only my family used to call me that..."

Now Wei Wuxian understood; his sight began to blur. "Madam Yu... Jiang Shushu... Sh-Shijie..."

"Yes. A-Jie always called me that. I'd love to hear it again!" He said through his sobs.

Wei Wuxian smiled. "Alright then, A-Cheng!"

"Thank you, A-Xian!"

Wei Wuxian, in spite of calling everyone around him soft-hearted names, had not expected that.

A-Xian...A-Xian... The words echoed from when she woke him up from his nap on the boat at Caiyi Town...

When she called him to have lotus root and pork ribs soup...

When she asked him to name Jin Ling...

When she saw him at Jin Zixuan's funeral...

When she gave her life for him...

His tears poured out, as Lan Zhan put his arms around his waist and rocked him. "Shijie...Shijie... it's all my fault... it's all my fault..." He was mumbling, as tears rushed out, endlessly.

"A-Ying..."

"A-Xian? Please don't cry."

"Shishu!"

"Daddy!"

"Wei-gege!"

"Didi? Didi, please, it's not your fault!"

And amidst all their cries, Wei Wuxian suddenly heard one voice, soft as a feather, harmonious as a nightingale, calling, "A-Xian!"

He looked up.

Light marshmallow purple robes, violet scarf wrapped around both arms, tinkling Clarity Bell hanging on the side, long dark hair cascading like a waterfall to the knees, beneath two side-buns, golden eyes gleaming, face beaming — and through it all, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

"SHIJIE!" Wei Wuxian leapt up, and gave a bright, teary, toothy, three-year-old's smile.

"Xianxian." Jiang Yanli smiled.