A sword under poor control flew erratically and entered the precincts of Cloud Recesses. No ordinary intruder would be able to trespass the wards that protected the Gusu Lan sect and enclave. Barely remaining in flight, the sparkling, near transparent blade came to a rocky stop at the entrance to the Hanshi. Lan XiChen had just stepped out his door and he drew back in shock at the sudden apparition. A battered and unkempt man fell from the sword and landed at Lan XiChen's feet, sheltering a small child in his arms as he crashed to the ground. Gold eyes sought Lan XiChen's own dark amber and a barely audible plea, "save him, XiongZhang!" was heard before the intruder collapsed in a dead faint.

Lan XiChen was frozen in shock only a moment, before calling for assistance, and kneeling to turn the unconscious body over. He was horrified to realize this shattered piece of humanity on his doorstep was his own younger brother. WangJi! he cried in his heart. How? He knew his brother was still bed-bound, seldom opening his eyes even momentarily. Even the Healers refused to say when or if he would awaken. How can this be you? Lan WangJi lay a dirty, tangled mess before him, with a strange toddler cradled in his arms, desperately ill. Faced with the impossible and the unexpected, Lan XiChen did what he did best. He organized.

Within minutes, Lan WangJi was carried carefully to the Jingshi, and the boy swiftly taken to the Healing Hall. Healers were called for both, clothes removed for washing, battered bodies cleaned and wounds dressed.

Lan XiChen had hovered over his younger brother while the Healers worked desperately, trying to keep life in a body tortured almost beyond enduring. He refused to leave the Jingshi for any reason until the Healers finally assured him that Lan WangJi would live. Lan WangJi had greatly overdrawn on his spiritual power to return to Cloud Recesses and his recovery had been set back significantly. He would probably live, however, and possibly eventually recover. With that scant reassurance, Lan XiChen looked at his brother, unconscious in his bed, paler than he had ever been. What drove you to leave in your condition? he wondered sadly. Xiong-di, where were you?

If not for the whispered "XiongZhang", he would never have believed the intruder to be his own brother. The immaculate HanGuang-Jun was unrecognizable. The robes removed from Lan WangJi had been irretrievable, liberally saturated in blood, grime and ash, all soaked into the fabric until it could never be removed. His hair had been a matted mess, well-dusted with the same dirt, as if he'd been sleeping on the ground or in a cave - a cave! Burial Mounds! Sudden insight struck Lan XiChen and he knew without a doubt where his brother had gone. Oh, Xiong-di, he mourned. There's nothing there. I'd have spared you that sight if I'd know you would go.

Lan XiChen grieved for his younger brother. He had not yet shown signs of awareness, nor left his bed, crippled as he was by the Discipline Whip, and yet the first time he roused to consciousness he had taken Bichen and gone to Burial Mounds. Lan XiChen bowed his head and thanked the gods for his brother's survival and left to see to the child.

In the Healing Hall the little boy was in good hands. Gentle fingers peeled clothes away from the tiny, hot body. Soothing, fragranced water cleaned and cooled. Healers checked his pulse and eyes. Diagnostics were done and tonics prepared.

"How is he?" asked Lan XiChen, when one Healer stepped back from the cot.

"He'll be fine," said the Healer. "He has a very high fever and an infection. It looks like exposure and possibly malnutrition. He may not have eaten, or eaten very little, for several days or longer. A good rest and good food, and he'll recover. Who is he?"

"I have no idea," answered Lan XiChen. "Was there anything in his clothes to identify him?"

"Only this." The Healer handed over a small folded butterfly and a long scarlet ribbon.

Lan XiChen caught his breathe. How? Why did this little one have the ribbon from Wei WuXian's hair? What was their connection? Who was this child?

"Thank you, Healer." He said, turning to go. "Please care for him well."

It was a long few days for Lan XiChen. The child's fever broke early on the second day and although weak, the Healers felt he would recover with time. His tiny face was unnaturally quiet, and his eyes turned with hope every time someone entered his room, only to turn away in disappointment time and again.

A full three days were touch and go for Lan WangJi. He'd done himself great harm by forcing his tortured body out to Burial Mounds. He didn't open his eyes until late on the third day but by the time a message reached Lan XiChen, he was unconscious once more. The fourth day Lan XiChen decided he would stay with his brother, in the hope he might awaken again. Sitting at his side, helping the Healer change the dressings, wiping his brother's face with a cool, wet cloth, Lan XiChen prayed for his recovery. They had never really known their father, shut away in secluded contemplation their entire lives, and their mother had passed when Lan WangJi was only six years old, only a few years older than the child in the Healer's Hall. With their irritable, strict Uncle QiRen responsible for raising the boys, they only really had each other. Xiong-di, Xiong-di, wake up, he prayed.

The hours passed slowly, aiding in his brother's care, and Lan XiChen had almost given up hope Lan WangJi would awaken that day, when those still lids slowly rose to reveal dull golden eyes sunk deeply into the pallid face.

"Xiong-di," said Lan XiChen softly, "Xiong-di, talk to me."

Lan WangJi had felt something drawing him away from the velvet dark and resisted. He didn't want to awaken. He didn't want to see anything, feel anything. What use was the world when his Wei Ying wasn't in it? He fought the pull toward consciousness, but it was relentless and eventually his eyes opened. Jingshi, he thought. I'm in the Jingshi. He heard a soft sound beside him and, too weak to turn his head, cast his eyes in that direction to see his brother. Tears? he wondered, as his brother spoke gently to him. XiongZhang. He's here. His mind cleared slightly. Hurts. Why does it hurt so badly again? His mind called forth a scattered series of memories, vague and disturbed, shards of moments, sharp in recall. Pain, falling, stumbling, seeking.

Finding!

Lan WangJi's eyes opened wide. If he'd had a voice, he would have shouted.

"Child?" came out as a whisper, all the voice he could manage.

"He's alright, WangJi. He's going to be fine." Lan XiChen reassured his brother, frightened at the intensity that sparked to life in those golden eyes.

"Where?" another painful effort issued from lips that hadn't spoken in too long.

"He's at the Healing Hall. He had an infection and was seriously ill with fever, but they've treated him and he's going to be alright," soothed Lan XiChen.

"Want."

"When you're better, I'll take you to see him," said Lan XiChen.

"Now."

"You can't!" cried Lan XiChen, "You'll die for sure if you get up again now!"

"Need!" pleaded that desperate whisper.

"I'll talk with the Healers. Maybe I can bring him here, since he's doing better than you are, right now," offered Lan XiChen.

"Please," and that pale shadow of a voice trailed off as golden eyes closed once more.

Lan XiChen was alarmed. It seemed his brother had used all his energy, just to ask for the child. Who is this boy? he wondered, even as he rose from the bedside. "Please look after my brother," he asked the Healer standing ready across the room. "I need to go to the Healing Hall for a bit."

"Certainly, Sect Leader," came the quick response and Lan XiChen made his way out the door.

At the Healing Hall, Lan XiChen spoke with the Healer caring for the mysterious child.

"My brother has started to wake up."

"Wonderful news," replied the Healer. "He should start to improve slowly, now he's awake. He can take his medicine more easily as well and the tonics should aid in his recovery, too."

"Thank you," said Lan XiChen. "He seems very disturbed about the boy and begged me to bring him to see him. Is the child well enough to be taken over to the Jingshi?"

"Yes, he should be fine," replied the Healer. "The past day or more he just looks sadly at his visitors then looks away. He won't speak to anyone. If he knows HanGuang-Jun, perhaps this will help the child as much your brother."

"Perhaps," said Lan XiChen. "At any rate, I hope so. I can take the boy there myself right now if it's acceptable."

"Certainly," said the Healer, and he led the way to the child's room.

"Hello, little one." Lan XiChen greeted the child, but got no response. "What's your name?" Silence. Hmmm, tough nut, thought Lan XiChen. Suddenly he had a flash of inspiration. "I think I have something of yours," he said. Lan XiChen reached into his sleeve and drew forth the folded butterfly and placed it in front of the boy. Yes! That's better! he thought as the child's eyes sparked with interest, one tiny hand reaching for the toy.

"Does it have a name?" He tried to draw the boy to speak, but there was no answer. The child's eyes were brighter, however, and he had reached for the toy. One more shot, thought Lan XiChen as he reached into his sleeve once more. This time the red ribbon, now washed and neatly folded, was revealed when he opened his hand in front of the little boy.

"Xian-Ge!" caroled the child, reaching for it. A pretty little smile now sat on the child's face. He looks a lot better now with some expression, thought Lan XiChen. And the child had responded to having his possessions returned.

"Would you like to visit someone?" he asked gently.

The child studied Lan XiChen's face. There must have been something familiar or reassuring to be seen, as the boy nodded and held out his arms to be picked up.

"Alright, then," said Lan XiChen. "Let's go!" and he carefully carried the little boy away.

Carrying the child, Lan XiChen returned to the Jingshi. Hoping his brother had awakened again, he looked questions at the Healer when he entered, who just shook his head. Carefully, gently, he settled the little boy on the bed to one side of Lan WangJi, safely buffered on three sides by the bed, and on the other by Lan WangJi's still body.

Lan WangJi lay silently in his bed, unable to move. His body and Core had been pushed very nearly past their limits and he was as helpless as a newborn. The Healers had cleaned his body and dressed his wounds as he lay passive, accepting the pain that every motion, every touch, sent coursing through his nerves. He slipped lightly in and out of consciousness, the passage of time meaningless in his tortured state, although he could not have said if his body, mind or soul was the most damaged.

Soft sounds, a quiet tone, and Lan WangJi felt something placed gently to his side on the bed. Something small and soft poked gently at his cheek. He struggled and finally managed to open his eyes. He could see the ceiling of the Jingshi and found himself still unable to turn his head. Moving his eyes over, he saw a small topknot, then a little brown face came into view. Gold eyes opened wider as he fought to take in with his eyes what his arms ached to hold.

The little boy stopped poking Lan WangJi's pale cheek and leaned over to see his eyes more clearly.

"Gege!" he proudly announced.

Lan XiChen and the Healer stood watching, not understanding the connection between Lan WangJi and the waif, but they hoped this little boy might be the medicine that would make all the difference and encourage Lan WangJi's recovery.

Lan WangJi looked at the child, as best he could in his immobile state. The round face and plump baby pout. He was here. He was alright. His Wei Ying's little A-Yuan lived.

A tear slid free and ran down his face. A-Yuan's little face looked sad to see it, then brightened. He could help his Gege! A tiny hand reached out and used a folded scarlet ribbon to dry the tear.

Lan WangJi froze. His eyes shot wide and an agonized groan drawn from his very soul escaped his lips, as paralyzed lungs forgot to breathe and his heart stood still in agony. A long moment hung suspended in time as Lan WangJi stared at the ribbon as if to draw it to him by sheer force of will.

Finally, the air-starved lungs gasped for breath and the walls Lan WangJi had so carefully constructed to stand between himself and devastation were entirely destroyed. A cataract of tears poured from his eyes as a gale of heartbreak swept through him, dragging his wounded soul back to the land of the living. He wept violently, struggling to breathe, unable to stop.

Lan XiChen was alarmed, watching his brother melt and break apart before his eyes. He looked quickly to the Healer. "What's wrong? What should we do?" he asked urgently.

"Nothing," reassured the Healer. "Sometimes tears are needed to heal the things we cannot see. Let him cry for now."

"But WangJi doesn't cry!" insisted Lan XiChen.

"Perhaps it's time," replied the Healer.

Lan WangJi wept for a long time, all the tortures of his soul sweeping through his broken heart. The child did not seem frightened by the storm coursing through Lan WangJi and never stopped dabbing his tears, folding and re-folding the scarlet ribbon to find dry cloth for his self-appointed task. He used his little fingers to pat Lan WangJi's tear-stained face, as if to reassure him. Gradually Lan WangJi quieted, never looking away from the child and the ribbon, the symbols of life lost and regained.

At long last, Lan WangJi was quiet once more. He wouldn't take his eyes off the boy, until the little one had finally curled himself up beside him in the bed and drifted away to nap.

When Lan XiChen reached to take the child, Lan WangJi met his eyes.

"No." The voice was hoarse, long unused, and then abused. With his throat on fire, Lan WangJi forced the word quietly from his mouth.

"He's asleep," said Lan XiChen. "I'm just going to take him back to the Healing Hall so he won't disturb you."

"Stays."

"Xiong-di, you're not up to this. You have a long recovery ahead of you. I'll bring the little one to see you every day if you want, but you both need your rest to heal."

"Stays."

Lan WangJi put as much iron into his voice as he could muster, and it still came out as a scant whisper. One look at his golden eyes, however, and Lan XiChen knew that whoever this child was, however he came to be rescued by Lan WangJi, this was a line that could not be crossed. Not without harm to his own beloved brother.

And so, A-Yuan came to stay at the Jingshi with Lan WangJi.