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Lan Wangji is going to die. 

He is going to die. 

He is going to lie down, separate from his body, and simply leave this world. And when he meets his ancestors and they ask him what in Heaven's name caused his early demise, he will gesture at Wei Wuxian and that infuriatingly captivating smile of his. Then—upon seeing the source of Lan Wangji's torment—his ancestors will nod empathetically and reassure him that, of course, nobody could possibly expect him to survive such an ordeal with such a person. It is entirely reasonable that his mortal self could not handle the extreme pressure he has been subjected to, and they are not disappointed in him at all.

Honestly, Lan Wangji is surprised he's still breathing. 

"Ooh, this is fascinating." Wei Wuxian lifts his hand and—Heavens help him—Lan Wangji's hand follows. Because they're stuck. They're stuck. Their fingers are interlaced, and they can't pull them apart. "You know, I wasn't expecting this, but isn't it odd? It's obviously a curse, but so far, it's not harmful."

Oh, it is harmful, Lan Wangji thinks through a spinning head as he feels Wei Wuxian twist their hands this way and that, testing the limits of the curse. His entire body feels hyper-aware, almost electrified. Wei Wuxian is much closer than Lan Wangji has ever allowed him to be before. It is most certainly harmful.

Wei Wuxian giggles as he swings their hands a little. "Lan Zhan! Look at your face! You look like you're about to pass out!" 

Pass out. Yes. Good idea. Excellent idea. If Wei Wuxian keeps talking, it just might happen, and then Lan Wangji can at least gain a few precious seconds of blissful denial before full-blown panic sets in. 

True to form, Wei Wuxian is still talking. "So which one of us do you think the husband and wife cursed?" He hums as he inspects the two coffins in the crypt; that was what they'd come for—to figure out if the couple buried here were behind the recent string of curses. "Like, is it combined? Or did they individually curse us and the curses reacted with each other? The locals call it a lovers' curse, so it probably—"

Wei Wuxian's voice fades to a faint buzz in Lan Wangji's head. A lovers' curse. 

Lan Wangji's eyes roll back into his head, and everything fades to black.

Lan Wangji had set a brutal pace: long, quick strides that bordered on outrageously rude as he tugged Wei Wuxian along the road and through small villages. Wei Wuxian, whose stamina and speed were ordinarily to be feared, complained about the haste the entire way, often trying to stop Lan Wangji just because he smelled something nice from a streetside vendor's stall or saw something pretty in a shop. And when Lan Wangji would inevitably walk past, Wei Wuxian would wail and moan about how cruel Gusu Lan's Second Young Master was to him. 

How the villagers had watched with bewilderment, curiosity, and—to Lan Wangji's mild horror—amusement. How must the two of them appear in their eyes? It is obvious that they are not brothers; there is nothing similar about them. If they are friends, then Lan Wangji must look like a bad friend to so relentlessly refuse Wei Wuxian even a moment's rest on their way back. And friends do not hold hands. 

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian stumbles on the steps leading up to the Cloud Recesses. "Slow down! Don't be so angry!" 

Lan Wangji is not angry; he is stressed. He has never been particularly good at expressing emotion, which is useful in situations when he would rather show as little of a reaction as possible—such as when he has to drag the most infuriating disciple the Cloud Recesses has ever had back home. 

They are late. Despite Wei Wuxian enthusiastically begging to try, Lan Wangji refused to attempt flying back on their swords while their hands are still joined. Then, when Wei Wuxian suggested that they both stand on Bichen, Lan Wangji didn't let him finish his sentence before cutting it off with a brisk, "Out of the question." 

So that left walking as the only option. 

Lan Wangji shoves that thought away before he can give it more attention that it deserves. They have to report as soon as possible to his uncle so that the Gusu Lan Sect can send out more disciples to pick up the investigation where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian left it. Then, hopefully, they can set about figuring out how to quickly remove this curse, because Lan Wangji has previously never been in a situation where he could not walk away from Wei Wuxian, and he is certain he will suffer a heart attack if this lasts for much longer. 

He barely stops to flash his jade entry pass at the sentry before he's in the Cloud Recesses. The rules say that each person must have and present their own pass, but even if Wei Wuxian hadn't had his pass, they would have no choice but to let them both in. Wei Wuxian knows this too; he grins cheekily at the sentry, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth. 

"Behave," Lan Wangji doesn't hiss, but he comes very close to it as he slows down. Running is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses. 

Unfortunately, it is the middle of the day, and the Cloud Recesses paths are as busy as they get. Disciples bow to Lan Wangji as he walks by, but he can feel their shocked gazes linger after him.

Wei Wuxian—infuriating, shameless, bold-faced Wei Wuxian who has never cared for subtlety—grins and raises their hands up. Proudly, he points at their interlaced fingers. "Jealous?" he calls out. 

The disciples, understandably, take advantage of Lan Wangji's hindered state and break the no-running rule in their hurry to get away.

Lan Wangji's lower eyelid almost twitches, and he yanks their hands down so hard that Wei Wuxian nearly loses his balance. "Move. We must see shufu."

Wei Wuxian whines his protest, but he goes along. He still waves at passing disciples, but he no longer tries to draw attention to their connected hands. It does little good, Lan Wangji is sure; he's never walked so close to someone who isn't family before, and Wei Wuxian's Yunmeng Jiang robes stand out against Lan Wangji's family robes. 

Too soon, and yet not soon enough, they arrive at the lanshi. Lan Wangji has his brother's and uncle's exact schedules memorized, and as expected, Lan Qiren is still inside the classroom, going through students' scrolls. 

"Shufu," Lan Wangji calls and, out of sheer habit, tries to clasp his hands together to bow. Instead, he succeeds only in bringing his and Wei Wuxian's hands forward, as if presenting them.

Lan Qiren is a man of rules and decorum. He does not let his temper loose without reason. Lan Wangji knows his uncle cares deeply for both him and his brother, and that he shows his love by doing everything in his power to make sure Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen grow up well-mannered and successful. 

Right now, however, Lan Qiren's anger is not directed towards Lan Wangji; it is directed at Wei Wuxian, who—upon realizing that neither of them could properly pay respects to their elder—smacked his left palm against Lan Wangji's half-formed fist in a poor attempt to recreate the hand-over-fist necessary for a proper greeting. 

The scroll Lan Qiren was reading slams down on the table. "Wei Wuxian!" Lan Qiren stands up so quickly that Lan Wangji worries about the blood pressure in his head. "Why did you—what is this?!" He jabs a finger at their joined hands. "Wangji, explain yourself this instant!" 

"Shufu, it's a curse," Lan Wangji explains quickly before the vein at his uncle's temple can grow any larger. "Wangji was not careful and failed to resolve the assigned haunting issue." He bows low.

Wei Wuxian bows too, but not as low. "Lan-xiansheng, it's not Lan Zhan's fault. The curse hit us quickly. I barely sensed any resentful energy before it happened." He strokes his chin with his free hand. "We have heard rumors about other such cases, but the locals aren't being helpful. At least so far it's not detrimental."

Not detrimental? Not detrimental? On the way back, Lan Wangji already imagined at least five of the worst possible scenarios that could happen as a result of this, and none of them are in the realm of impossibility. He and Wei Wuxian are so different. Aside from a quick and prompt separation, there is no way that this can end well. 

Lan Qiren looks like he wants to step over his desk, grab Lan Wangji, and separate him from Wei Wuxian by any means possible. Lan Wangji desperately wishes he could. "Have you found the cause of the hauntings in Danyang?" 

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. "No, we didn't. But we did manage to trace it back to a couple's tomb. That's when this happened." He wiggles their hands. Lan Wangji forces them to still.

The fury in Lan Qiren's expression doesn't abate one bit. "You two are to report to the mingshi right this instant. I will send Xichen to deal with both of you there." His glare could drill holes through Wei Wuxian's skull. "And you. Behave, or Sect Leader Jiang will hear about this. I will not have you dragging Wangji into trouble."

Lan Wangji makes a mental note to buy his uncle some jasmine tea after this is all over. Finally, a voice of reason amidst this whole madness. 

"I'm sorry, Wangji," Lan Xichen sighs as he lowers liebing from his lips, "but this is the best I can do."

Lan Wangji stares at the shimmering blue array that has settled over his and Wei Wuxian's hands. "Is it really, though?" is not what he says. Instead, he says, "Wangji is grateful for xiong-zhang's efforts," which is basically the same thing. 

Lan Xichen's apologetic smile turns a little more apologetic, which just means he's trying not to laugh. "I've stopped any possible progression of the curse, but it is likely that the skin on your fingers will tear if I try to separate the two of you. Since you and Young Master Wei appear unharmed by this curse, it may be safer to wait until the situation in Danyang is resolved. Then the curse should naturally lift."

That could take anywhere from a day to a week, depending on how severe the haunting turns out to be. Lan Wangji wants to cry, just a little. "Yes, xiong-zhang." He bows. 

As soon as they step outside of the mingshi, Wei Wuxian tries to tug him in the direction away from the lanshi. Lan Wangji resists. "Wei Ying, what are you doing?"

Wei Wuxian turns to him with the most exaggerated pout he has ever seen. "Lan Zhan," his eyes are wide and soulful, "surely we don't have to attend class today, right? We've been cursed! We should be excused! I'm sure Lan-xiansheng would understand."

Lan Wangji digs his heels into the ground. The thought of having to sit in a classroom full of people who will undoubtedly stare at their hands and make their own assumptions is terrifying, but not nearly as terrifying as letting Wei Wuxian take them to heavens-know-where. Together. Alone. 

"And where would we go if not to class?" he asks. 

Wei Wuxian thinks for far too long for someone who confidently tried to take them in a different direction just a moment ago. "The library pavilion?" he tries. 

"No." Lan Wangji absolutely does not start marching in the direction of the lanshi. He is merely walking with purpose.

"Nooo-ooo," Wei Wuxian sobs loudly as he leans back, resisting. "Lan Zhan, please! Just this once! Do you want the whole class to see us like this? Wouldn't it be so embarrassing?"

Now, it would be entirely expected—and appropriate—of Lan Wangji to simply ignore him and haul him to class no matter what nonsense comes out of his mouth. Lan Wangji is the Second Young Master of the Gusu Lan Sect. He's supposed to be the example, follow the rules, and rule number one hundred forty-three says: do not speak without thinking. 

"Is it truly so detestable to be seen with me?" is what he absolutely, certainly, shouldn't have said. 

Wei Wuxian stops struggling, and only because he's staring at Lan Wangji like he's grown two heads. When he finds his voice again, all he manages is a one-noted, "Uhhhhh—"

Lan Wangji turns around, the sides of his neck and his ears burning with shame. "Another word, and you will be silenced." Then he takes advantage of Wei Wuxian's shock and drags him to their class. 

Class is somehow simultaneously not as painful and just as painful as Lan Wangji expected it to be. 

It is not very painful, because it turns out that a single warning look from Lan Wangji is enough to silence many of his classmates, and they are too intimidated by him to openly stare at Wei Wuxian's hand clasped in his. Jiang Cheng is the only one to approach them, his face twisted in a scowl, but Nie Huaisang quickly steers him back to their seats. 

Class is painful, however, because Wei Wuxian must share a desk with Lan Wangji, and he is sitting very close. 

Wei Wuxian is currently doodling on a sheet of paper with his left hand. He previously swore up and down that he couldn't write with his left hand and therefore Lan Wangji must take notes for the both of them—yet here he is, drawing what is obviously stick figures of the two of them chasing fierce corpses. 

At least he isn't watching Lan Wangji write anymore. Earlier, he placed his chin on Lan Wangji's shoulder as he read through their notes, and Lan Wangji nearly drew a line across the entire paper. 

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whispers for what must be the hundredth time. 

Lan Wangji looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He tried silencing him earlier, but silencing spells are useless if the person can just tug insistently on your hand and you can't move away. 

Wei Wuxian grins at him in a way that means he's up to no good. "Do you want to go to Caiyi Town with me later? I bet the locals still remember us. We can ask them where to get the best snacks."

The suggestion makes Lan Wangji hesitate, which is shameful. He quickly shoves it aside. They have music practice later, and while neither of them can play their respective instruments with just one hand, Lan Wangji intends to use the time to analyze one of Lan An's compositions. "No."

Wei Wuxian's smile quickly turns sulky. "But, Lan Zhan, I promised that nice jiejie that I would be back to buy her loquats! Would you have me break my promise to a pretty young lady?"

Now Lan Wangji is absolutely sure he does not want to go to Caiyi Town. "Be silent. Focus on class. Stop flirting without intention. Do not make promises you cannot keep."

With a light thunk, Wei Wuxian drops his head onto the table. "Lan er-ge is so cruel!" he sighs. "He does not understand the passions of youth. He only knows to play the guqin, copy rules, and be boring. How tragic, how—"

Lan Qiren smacks the table with a ruler hard enough to make Wei Wuxian flinch. "Wei Ying! It is one thing for you to not pay attention; now you're disrupting Wangji's education! Do not drag others down with you!" 

Wei Wuxian makes a soft harrumph sound, but responds with, "Yes, Lan-xiansheng," and goes back to doodling on his paper. 

The good behavior doesn't last ten minutes. While Lan Qiren is in the middle of explaining how a haunting case from a few centuries back was handled poorly, Lan Wangji feels something hard and thin press into his arm. 

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whispers as he pokes him again with the looped end of his brush, "I have to pee."

For a sweet, sweet, blissful second, Lan Wangji has no idea why Wei Wuxian feels the need to let him know. Then Wei Wuxian wiggles his eyebrows, and Lan Wangji wants very much to draw Bichen and separate the two of them himself, since his brother is too much of a coward to do so. "No."

Wei Wuxian nods, a devious grin stretching across his face. "Yes. And you have to come with me, Lan Zhan."

"No," Lan Wangji repeats, although he knows it is useless. 

"Aiya, Second Young Master Lan, always saying 'no'." Wei Wuxian stands up. "You know, girls won't like you if you say 'no' too much. Now we gotta go, or I'm going to go." 

He pulls hard enough on that last word to force Lan Wangji to his feet. Then they're out the door before Lan Wangji can so much as bow to Lan Qiren and excuse the both of them. 

They end up taking over an hour, because Wei Wuxian is insistent that Lan Wangji use the chamber pots too, which Lan Wangji very much doesn't want to do and doesn't want to think about. 

"Come on, Lan Zhan." Wei Wuxian drags a palm down his face in exasperation. A guest disciple passing by gives them both a weird look. "You have to at some point. You might as well go whenever I go. Then we can at least halve the amount of time we spend here."

Eventually, Lan Wangji gives in. Of course he gives in, and it is undoubtedly one of the worst experiences in his life. There are so many other things he would rather be afflicted by than the horrifying ordeal of trying to make Wei Wuxian understand that if he so much as peeks, Lan Wangji is going to imprison him in the Library Pavilion to copy rules for the rest of his life. 

By the time they can finally return to their classroom, they have been gone for a conspicuously long time. Nie Huaisang, in particular, peers with obvious curiosity at the both of them from behind his fan.

Lan Wangji puts a silencing spell on him as a precaution—and a warning. Do not say a word.

Their next class goes about as smoothly as can be expected, which—since Wei Wuxian is involved—is not smooth at all.

Their music class is nothing short of a failure. Since he can't play his dizi, Wei Wuxian has resorted to singing, and while Lan Wangji doesn't think his singing is bad, their instructor clearly disagrees. Then, after just ten minutes of sight-reading one of Lan An's compositions, Wei Wuxian decides to doodle again. When the instructor catches him and demands that he hand over his paper and brush, Wei Wuxian looks him straight in the eye and stuffs the wadded-up doodles into his mouth. 

So Lan Wangji spends the entirety of that class trying to convince a very stubborn yet entertained Wei Wuxian to spit out the paper. Originally, he was content to let Wei Wuxian suffer the consequences of his actions, but then Wei Wuxian started to gag a little, so Lan Wangji abandons his analysis task in favor of making sure Wei Wuxian won't require a physician's attention. 

The next class is on swordsmanship, and Wei Wuxian makes a fuss when Lan Wangji decides to meditate instead of practicing. 

"What if we have to fight while joined together?" Wei Wuxian is on the ground, kicking his legs like a child after failing to persuade Lan Wangji. "Aren't you curious as to how we would do that? Lan Zhan, don't you have any sense of self-preservation?"

Lan Wangji does have a sense of self-preservation, and it's telling him that he never should have gotten out of bed that morning. "The curse should be resolved soon, and we will not be permitted on night-hunts until then. There is no need."

Wei Wuxian makes a choking noise. "Not permitted on—which rule is that?"

"One thousand, one hundred fifty-three," Lan Wangji answers without hesitation. "'No one suffering debilitating effects of a curse may be permitted—'"

"I can't believe you just remembered that off the top of your head," Wei Wuxian groans as he starts rolling on the ground. He doesn't get very far, because Lan Wangji refuses to move. "Just put me out of my misery, Lan Zhan. Have mercy on me. I can't take this."

That is easily the fifth time Wei Wuxian has complained about their situation, and they have been cursed for less than a day. The more Wei Wuxian talks like that, the more Lan Wangji suspects that Wei Wuxian wishes he had been cursed with anyone else. Wei Wuxian gets along with many people—Lan Wangji sees it all the time, in the company he keeps, in the way his eyes scrunch up in laughter whenever he's around others—but this is different. 

Lan Wangji can't just walk away and not look at him, as he usually could. Because he is stuck. They are stuck, and the disciples Lan Qiren sent out earlier are taking their sweet time with the Danyang case. 

There isn't much Lan Wangji can do, so he pretends he's too busy meditating to hear Wei Wuxian. 

Swordsmanship class, alas, also turns out to be a failure when Lan Wangji does not manage to quiet the turmoil roiling just beneath his ribs. 

The time Lan Wangji has been dreading all day arrives: nighttime. With the fading sunlight goes all hope he has that this can be resolved within a day. 

Normally, Lan Wangji appreciates the night. It is quiet, and although the Cloud Recesses is always quiet, the night brings with it a different sort of peace. The air cools, the world slows down, and Lan Wangji ends the day with a meal, a bath, and a bit of composition time on his guqin. 

At least that's what he would have done if he weren't stuck to the most disruptive person in the world. 

They are in his jingshi, which makes Lan Wangji feel a certain way that he will not be examining in detail. Since Wei Wuxian rooms with Jiang Cheng in the student dorms, which only have single-person beds, it only makes sense that he temporarily stay with Lan Wangji until their curse is resolved. 

They didn't discuss it beforehand; after their final class, Lan Wangji wordlessly took Wei Wuxian down the path that led to his room, and Wei Wuxian followed without a sign of protest. That felt unreal—the sound of their footsteps along the stone path, the warmth of their intertwined fingers, the undeniable knowledge that Wei Wuxian is going to be the first non-family member to see Lan Wangji's private quarters. 

Lan Wangji will not be examining that feeling either. He needs to eat, bathe, and sleep so that he has enough energy to survive what could possibly be another day of this torture. 

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian gazes pleadingly up at him with his head on the table. "We are already suffering enough as it is. Couldn't you ask the kitchen to prepare something a little more hearty?" 

Their dinner is the usual Gusu Lan fare—light soup, rice, and vegetable dishes. Lan Wangji sees no reason to change that. "A sudden change in diet will upset your stomach. Eat, Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian rolls his head so that his chin is on the table. He stares dolefully at the dishes in front of him. "I can't use chopsticks with my left hand," he complains. "Lan Zhan, can you feed me?"

Lan Wangji is so relieved that he wasn't right in the middle of taking a bite, because he would have definitely choked. "You have a spoon."

"A soup spoon," Wei Wuxian points out. "Designed for soup. Do you want me to starve, Lan er-ge?"

That is definitely not what Lan Wangji wants, but he utterly refuses to directly feed Wei Wuxian. He is already far too tense for what should be part of a winding-down process for the night. 

But. 

He cannot deny that not being able to use chopsticks is a hassle. Just because Wei Wuxian is ambidextrous doesn't automatically mean he is equally skilled with both hands, and if he struggles to eat well, then it could hinder the both of them. Should the upcoming days prove to be as exhausting as today was, then it will be even more important that they keep their strength up. 

Lan Wangji rolls his rice into a small ball and places it in Wei Wuxian's spoon along with a piece of steamed eggplant. He does not look at Wei Wuxian as he does so. 

Nonetheless, he can somehow hear Wei Wuxian's grin through his voice. "Such a gentleman, Lan Zhan! If only everyone else can see you right now!"

Lan Wangji goes back to his own bowl of rice in what he hopes is an obvious indication that he's not going to play this game. "No talking during mealtimes."

It goes on like this; Lan Wangji puts food in Wei Wuxian's spoon and they eat. It is a slow process, but Wei Wuxian oddly does not try to get food himself. The pair of chopsticks that Lan Wangji brought him lies off to the side, ignored. He seems determined to go the difficult way, to wait for Lan Wangji to give him food instead of getting it himself. 

Then, when Lan Wangji is putting more rice in Wei Wuxian's spoon, Wei Wuxian suddenly darts forward, faster than a snapping turtle, and clamps his mouth down on the rice still held in Lan Wangji's chopsticks. 

Lan Wangji lets go of his chopsticks. They clatter onto the table. "Wei Ying!"

Wei Wuxian smiles smugly at him as he chews. "Thanks for feeding me, Lan er-ge!" he cackles. 

Supper ends up taking far too long, and by the time they finish with their meal, it is almost nine. There isn't time for a bath—which is good, because Lan Wangji is not at all emotionally prepared to undress for a bath with Wei Wuxian right there—but it is now time to prepare for bed. 

Bed.

Oh Heavens, Lan Wangji is going to have to share a bed with Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian, oddly, has quieted down since supper, but Lan Wangji knows better than to hope that it is because he finally understands the gravity of their whole situation. He actually looks more alert, staring at the bed with a sort of pensiveness that would have been more appreciated during class and not when Lan Wangji can feel himself growing drowsier by the minute. Their sleep schedules differ greatly, and the thought of Wei Wuxian being wide awake while Lan Wangji is asleep is… disconcerting.

A disciple has dropped off extra blankets and pillows, which is a relief, because Lan Wangji owns only one pillow and if he has to share with Wei Wuxian, he very well might not survive the night. Without looking at Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji takes the blankets and pillows and places them on his bed, arranging them out over the mattress. 

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Lan Zhan?" 

Lan Wangji pauses with his hand on one of the silk pillows. That question didn't sound like Wei Wuxian. He has never asked Lan Wangji if he was alright with something, and now that he has, Lan Wangji finds that he doesn't like it. 

Wei Wuxian shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. "I remember Huaisang told me once that you live alone," he says, "and almost no one is permitted inside your room. If you want, I can sleep on the floor. You really don't have to make accommodations for me." 

Lan Wangji finally looks at him for the first time since he took a bite from Lan Wangji's chopsticks. Wei Wuxian's usual smile is still on his face, but something that is either unease or exhaustion is starting to wear down its edges. Lan Wangji huffs a little. "It is no trouble."

Wei Wuxian's eyes widen. "Lan Zhan, sleeping with me is a lot of trouble. What if I sleepwalk? Or try to hug you in my sleep? Or what if I drool—I definitely drool, by the way, I really can't help it. But it will inconvenience you so much. Just let me sleep on the floor."

After an entire day of Wei Wuxian invading Lan Wangji's personal space and being so much more of a nuisance that Lan Wangji could have ever imagined, it is strange to see him like this. Maybe the bed is not to his liking? Lan Wangji should have asked for extra bedding.

"The bed is big enough," Lan Wangji smooths out one of the blankets. "If you sleepwalk, I won't let you get far. Put a towel on your pillow if you think you're going to drool." He really, really hopes Wei Wuxian doesn't notice that he didn't say anything about the hugs part, because Lan Wangji honestly can't answer that.

Wei Wuxian falls silent, his brows pulled together in a small, contemplative frown—but only briefly. Before Lan Wangji can begin to contemplate whether or not he said too much, Wei Wuxian perks back up. "If you say so, Lan Zhan! Then you can't blame me if you don't sleep well tonight."

Heat blooms in Lan Wangji's cheeks, and he is all-too grateful to hear the gongs marking the start of bedtime. "It's hai shi. We need to rest."

"Alright, alright, we'll follow the rules," Wei Wuxian sighs dramatically as he begins removing his outer layers. Whatever he can't take off completely, he pushes down his left arm onto their conjoined hands. "I bet you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Lan Wangji feels brittle—made out of frost, and on the verge of melting. "Shameless!"

"Is pointing out your tyranny shameless?" Wei Wuxian kicks off his boots and nudges them into some semblance of orderliness at the edge of the bed. "Lan Zhan, don't think that just because you can make me go to bed on time means that I'll keep that habit. There's a bit of fun in staying up late!"

That… is not what Lan Wangji thought his comment meant. Turning away, he inclines his head so that his hair hides his ears. "Ridiculous."

"Aiya, Lan er-ge, still so mean—and so close to your bedtime, too." Wei Wuxian shucks his socks off and stuffs them inside his shoes. "Alright, your turn."

Lan Wangji is much slower to undress. He has many more layers than Wei Wuxian, and all of them have sleeves. Undoing the ties on his robes is torture, like peeling skin off and exposing the soft, delicate parts of himself to Wei Wuxian's eyes, even though he is far from being naked. 

"Don't look," he says. 

"What's to hide? I already know what you look like." Despite his words, Wei Wuxian covers his eyes anyways with his other hand. "You're so shy, and for what? If I had your body, I would be showing it off to everyone."

Lan Wangji does not know how to fully express how much he doesn't like the idea of Wei Wuxian flaunting himself in front of the entire world. "Promiscuity is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses." Off another layer goes, pushed down to Lan Wangji's left wrist. "You will expose yourself to no one."

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue. "A bit late for that, don't you think? Considering that we both bathed in the Cold Springs."

As if Lan Wangji could ever forget the way Wei Wuxian barged into the Cold Springs that night, delight in his eyes and a smile on his lips even as his teeth chattered and goosebumps rose on his arms. Beautiful is not a thought Lan Wangji had back then, and it is definitely not a thought he has now as he watches Wei Wuxian yawn and rub at his eyes. 

Lan Wangji decides to leave two layers on, both for modesty and convenience; the bundle of half-shed clothes hanging off of their wrists is beginning to look ridiculous. "I have to extinguish the candles." He says it almost as an apology. If Lan Wangji could have his way, Wei Wuxian would already be in bed and wouldn't have to stumble after him in increasing darkness. Wei Wuxian could just stay under the covers, where it is warm, and safe, and—

The thought of it sends an odd pang through Lan Wangji's chest, and he picks up the candle snuffer with a little more aggression than necessary. 

One by one, the candles go out, and little by little, light fades from the room. By the time they make their way to the bed, there's only a sliver of moonlight from the window to guide them. Lan Wangji presses their joined hands to the mattress to warn Wei Wuxian not to take another step, lest he hit his shins. The bed creaks softly as Wei Wuxian climbs on. He tugs at Lan Wangji's hand encouragingly. 

"Wait." Lan Wangji reaches up and tugs his forehead ribbon free. Holding one end of it in his mouth, he folds it up as best as he can and sets it on the bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.

For Lan Wangji, getting in bed is nothing more than lying down and pulling the covers over himself. For Wei Wuxian, it involves an extensive ritual where he cocoons himself in the covers, rolls around to find a comfortable position, rearranges his hair so that it's out of his face, then hugs his pillow as close as possible before letting out a content, happy sigh that Lan Wangji doesn't find as annoying as he should. 

"Goodnight, Lan Zhan." His voice is muffled from the covers as he reaches out and pulls Lan Wangji's blanket up from its usual place over his chest to under his chin. "Gusu's nights get so cold." His fingers fumble, but he manages to tuck the blanket around Lan Wangji's neck before patting his cheek. "If you get sick, old man Lan Qiren is going to blame me. So stay warm, okay?"

Lan Wangji stares at his ceiling, his heartbeat in his ears and a lingering warmth on his face. Only when Wei Wuxian's breathing deepened with sleep does Lan Wangji realize that he forgot to say goodnight back. 

The curse, which is starting to feel less like a simple slip-up made by two young men and more like divine karmic retribution—continues on to the next day.

Lan Wangji wakes up that morning, bleary from a poor night's rest, to Wei Wuxian asleep and drooling on his chest. If that were all, he would be fine with it—except that Wei Wuxian is hugging his torso, his leg is thrown across Lan Wangji's hips, and his inner robes have loosened to the point where half his chest is pressed against Lan Wangji's chest. He is also snoring lightly, which—oh, no—makes Lan Wangji want to pull their blankets around him tighter and let him continue sleeping. 

When Lan Wangji finally works up the nerve to move, Wei Wuxian proves frustratingly difficult to wake. When Lan Wangji calls his name the first time, Wei Wuxian blearily lifts his head, glances at the window, groans, and lies back down on Lan Wangji. 

"Wei Ying." Lan Wangji shakes his shoulder. "It is time to get up."

Wei Wuxian makes a disgruntled noise and buries himself further against him—which just means he's pressing his face against Lan Wangji's neck. 

Lan Wangji freezes, suddenly terrified for his life. Wei Wuxian's face is warm, and each of his exhales burns across Lan Wangji's skin. It makes Lan Wangji want to panic and fling him across the room—which, considering Wei Wuxian's barely-conscious state, would be rather inconsiderate.

So he does not throw Wei Wuxian. Instead, he shakes him a little harder. "Wei Ying, if you do not get up, I will make us copy the rules after class—and I know you can write with your left hand."

That earns him an extended groan that vibrates against his neck and sends goosebumps across his entire body. "Lan er-gege is so cruel," Wei Wuxian laments, "making this pitiful one rise before even the sun is up."

Alright, they definitely need to get up now. Lan Wangji isn't sure how much more of this he can take. With a small grunt of effort, he sits up with Wei Wuxian still on his chest. 

"Nooo-ooo." Wei Wuxian hooks his free arm around Lan Wangji's neck. "Come baaack, you're so warm."

"Get. Up," Lan Wangji orders. 

Wei Wuxian opens one grey eye at him, squinting and peeking from under long lashes. "Fine," he sighs, pulling himself away from Lan Wangji and yawning. 

Unfortunately, it's not that easy—things are never easy whenever Wei Wuxian is involved—and Lan Wangji ends up having to wake him no less than four times, because apparently Wei Wuxian can fall asleep just about anywhere. It would almost be impressive if it weren't so worrying. 

At least he's quiet—which is good, because it allows Lan Wangji to draw a bath with minimal commentary, and bad, because Lan Wangji has no distractions from the little voice in his head that is currently freaking out that he's going to have to bathe in front of Wei Wuxian, and vice-versa. 

Then Lan Wangji's opinion of Wei Wuxian not speaking moves firmly into the 'good' section when Wei Wuxian, now fully awake and ready to wreak havoc on Lan Wangji's sanity, opens his mouth and says, "I think we should cut our sleeves."

It is nothing short of a miracle that Lan Wangji doesn't immediately drown himself in the bathtub. "No. Absolutely not."

Wei Wuxian raises his other hand. "Hear me out. We need to be able to change into and out of clothes, because I'm fine with wearing the same thing for a few days but you probably aren't, and changing back into soiled clothes after a bath kind of sucks." He pauses. "Also I drooled on you, so I don't think you'll want to wear that inner robe anymore."

Drowning is still definitely an option, and Lan Wangji hasn't stopped considering it. "Mn," is the only answer he can manage at this point. 

"So anyhow, I was thinking." Wei Wuxian shakes the bundle of their outer robes on their joined hands. "We can just cut open the seams of our sleeves all the way to the neckline and sew string into them to tie them closed. It'll look kinda bad—at least on me, because I don't have your long sleeves—but we'll be able to at least get out of these clothes and wash them. What do you say?"

Lan Wangji still thinks it's a bad idea. The Gusu Lan Sect demands the highest attention to appearance, and he just knows that if his brother sees that one sleeve of his robe has been deliberately cut apart, Lan Xichen's eyebrows are going to shoot up so high that they disappear behind his forehead ribbon.

He hears the whisper of Suibian being drawn from its sheath too late. Wei Wuxian has turned his sleeve as inside-out as much as he can, and directs the sword directly at the fabric, where only a thin layer separates the delicate skin of Wei Wuxian's wrist from divine, sharp blade. 

Lan Wangji inhales. "No—"

The rip of fabric is agonizing, and Lan Wangji holds his breath, searching for any sign of blood among the greys of Wei Wuxian's robes. Spiritual energy thrums through his hand, ready to be passed to Wei Wuxian if he's hurt, if he's bleeding, if he's—

Wei Wuxian gives a triumphant little laugh as he tears his robes free. "Ah, much better! It was getting heavy, wasn't it, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji doesn't say anything—can't say anything—because underneath Wei Wuxian's robes is bare, smooth skin. 

The revelation is ridiculous. Humans have skin, and clothes go on top of skin, so once clothes are removed, underneath is skin. Lan Wangji knows this. Everyone knows this. He has zero reason to be so shocked that Wei Wuxian, who is human, has skin under his clothes. Frankly, he should be grateful that Wei Wuxian has skin, because if he had scales, then it would mean something has gone very wrong with the curse, and they need to rush to the mingshi immediately. 

Yet gratitude is not what Lan Wangji feels. He feels—overwhelmed, too hot, frazzled, like he has run a hundred laps around the Cloud Recesses in the middle of summer. Wei Wuxian is right there, and there is—skin. A lot of it. And there's more being revealed, the more layers Wei Wuxian peels off. 

"Okay!" Wei Wuxian declares once his robes are lying in a pile at his feet and Lan Wangji can no longer bear to look at him. "Your turn, now!"

It would be great if the floorboards beneath Lan Wangji's feet gave away right about now. "What?" 

"We're bathing together, aren't we?" Oh Heavens help him, Wei Wuxian is trying to untie his robes. "Your bathtub is big enough to fit two people, and neither of us can properly wash with just one hand. It'll be fun!"

Fun? Fun? Lan Wangji wants no part of whatever Wei Wuxian thinks is fun. "Let go of me!"

"Aiya, Lan Zhan, don't be so stubborn." Wei Wuxian pulls open Lan Wangji's innermost robe, and Lan Wangji almost—almost—whimpers. "We're both men! What is there to be nervous about?"

Lan Wangji knows Wei Wuxian is not stupid. Lan Qiren may abhor his work ethics, but Wei Wuxian is one of the most intelligent people Lan Wangji knows. He is observant, creative, quick on his feet, and eloquent when he wants to be. But sometimes he doesn't hear himself; he doesn't hear how his words could be interpreted, and right now, the only word Lan Wangji can think of to describe Wei Wuxian is: stupid. 

"I'll do it myself," he says as he snatches his sleeve out of Wei Wuxian's hand. He's not about to let Wei Wuxian cut his robes with Suibian, and using Bichen for such a menial task feels like disrespect, so Lan Wangji digs out a spare guqin string from one of the drawers and strings it along his arm, against his skin. A tug, a rush of spiritual energy along the string, and the robes fall off of Lan Wangji's left arm, the sleeve sliced neatly from wrist to chest. 

Wei Wuxian let out a low whistle. "Not how I thought I'd see the chord assassination technique for the first time, but that works."

Lan Wangji's ears are undoubtedly scarlet. "Turn around. Close your eyes. Don't speak."

"So modest," Wei Wuxian snickers, but he obediently turns his face away. 

The disciple who brought them extra supplies yesterday had the forethought to bring extra towels. It is a blessing that there are more than they need; Lan Wangji grabs one to cover himself with after he steps out of his pants. "Here." He successfully bounces another towel off of his knee towards Wei Wuxian without staring at his bare shoulders for too long.

"Who knew Second Young Master Lan was so shy?" Wei Wuxian laughs as he ties the given towel around his waist. He uses their joined hands to pin one end of the towel in place as he tucks the other end into it, and Lan Wangji manages to only think a little about how close his hand is to Wei Wuxian's hip.

The water is still hot when they enter, and Wei Wuxian lets out a trill of delight as he sinks up to his ears. "Oh, this is so nice," he moans—moans, merciful Heavens, how in the world is Lan Wangji going to survive this—with his eyes closed. "I could fall asleep like this." 

"Don't," Lan Wangji warns. If Wei Wuxian falls asleep, then Lan Wangji will have to hold him up, and that requires far more skin-on-skin contact than Lan Wangji is ready to handle. "Wash. We'll be late."

"We are already late." With a sigh, Wei Wuxian turns his head to the side and begins combing through his hair with his fingers in the water. "Face it, Lan Zhan. We're not going to be on time for anything today. The sooner you accept it, the less grumpy you'll be."

Lan Wangji wants to argue that he's not grumpy. He's just… lost. In unfamiliar territory. The last person he'd held hands with is Lan Xichen, and that had been a decade ago, when Lan Wangji was little and grieving over a mother whose disappearance he didn't understand. He has no idea what to do with this sudden, forced proximity—and with Wei Wuxian, the only person who can get under his skin and frustrate him beyond belief. 

He is almost jealous of Wei Wuxian's nonchalance regarding this whole situation. He is almost envious of how comfortable Wei Wuxian is around another human being.

He does not know how to tell Wei Wuxian this, especially since Wei Wuxian is humming with contentment as he scrubs soap into his hair, so Lan Wangji says nothing. He usually says nothing, anyways. 

Until Wei Wuxian adds soap to his hair. 

Lan Wangji ducks away from his hand. "What are you doing?"

"Washing your hair." Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes, although his lips are still upturned in a bemused smile. "Don't tell me you were planning on washing all this—" he runs his hand down a lock of Lan Wangji's long hair, "—by yourself, with one hand."

Lan Wangji was, in fact, planning on doing exactly that. He huffs and turns away, pulling his hair out of Wei Wuxian's hand. 

Laughing, Wei Wuxian grabs another handful of his hair and tugs gently. "Alright, alright, it's all my fault, I'm the bad one, okay? Let me wash your hair, Lan er-gege. I'll stop teasing."

Liar, Lan Wangji thinks morosely as he submits to letting Wei Wuxian add more soap to his hair. Asking Wei Wuxian to stop teasing is to ask a fish to fly. It is impossible. 

Wei Wuxian continues humming as he works his fingers against Lan Wangji's scalp, scrubbing in soothing circles. Lan Wangji tries to join with his free hand, but Wei Wuxian bats it away with an insistent, "This is much faster."

At least with his head bent over and a curtain of soapy hair covering his face, Lan Wangji doesn't have to worry whether Wei Wuxian can tell that he doesn't find this disagreeable. It feels rather nice, actually. Wei Wuxian is thorough, even if he's a bit rough, and Lan Wangji is having to work to suppress small spine-length shudders as his fingers press into his scalp. His humming is also a good addition; really, Lan Wangji is going to have to speak with their music instructor about his criticism of Wei Wuxian's voice. 

Every single one of Lan Wangji's pleasant musings comes to a screeching stop when Wei Wuxian murmurs, low and soft and next to his ear, "Does that feel good?" 

The sound freezes him, and he bites down hard on his tongue to avoid shivering and giving himself away. Oh, no. They are absolutely not going down this path, nope. Lan Wangji will not allow it—will not allow himself to be pulled into the yawning chasm that always seems to creep up behind him whenever Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up as his lips smile too brightly around Lan Wangji’s name.

He sits up abruptly enough to make the water in the bathtub slosh around. Wei Wuxian yelps, then bursts into laughter. "You look like a water ghoul!" 

Lan Wangji pushes his soaking wet hair out of his face. "Thank you for your help." He doesn't mean to sound so clipped, but his heart is racing and Wei Wuxian is smiling that way, and his heels are over the edge of the chasm. 

"No need to thank me." Wei Wuxian grins as he begins to scrub his own hair. 

Lan Wangji watches him with guilt creeping into his stomach. He should help; Wei Wuxian helped him wash his hair. He reaches out. 

Wei Wuxian leans away. "Nah, I can do it, Lan Zhan. I'm almost done."

Lan Wangji blinks, and lets his hand fall. He doesn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. 

The conflict must have shown on his face; Wei Wuxian's smile is framed with soap bubbles as he says, "But you can help me wash my shoulders in just a bit. Would that make you feel better?"

That—that—no, that would not make Lan Wangji feel better. Shoulders are different from hair. Lan Wangji does not trust himself to be in a position where he can see each individual freckle on Wei Wuxian's shoulder and not—he doesn't know what he would do. His lips tingle. Count them, perhaps? If he does, then his mind will forever randomly remind him of the exact number of freckles that decorate Wei Wuxian's back and how no one else in the world has that unique constellation on their skin. 

Ears aflame, Lan Wangji scrubs at his skin to keep his mind off of freckles and warm laughter. He can wash himself just fine except for his right arm and the backs of his shoulders, but he can't bring himself to ask Wei Wuxian for help—that would be asking Wei Wuxian to touch him. Lan Wangji has never asked to be touched before, and he doesn't intend to start today. 

In the end, he doesn't need to. He jumps a little when Wei Wuxian presses his hand against Lan Wangji's back, his ring finger resting on the bump of Lan Wangji's spine. 

"Sorry, did I startle you?" Wei Wuxian apologizes in the way a child might apologize for eating the last cookie—devoid of any real remorse. He pats Lan Wangji's back. "May I?"

Asking for forgiveness before permission. So very typical of Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji doesn't say a word, but he doesn't move away from Wei Wuxian's hand. Let Wei Wuxian interpret that however he will. 

Wei Wuxian applies soap to Lan Wangji's back and starts washing him, rubbing briskly along his skin. "You have such nice skin," he says, as if he weren't already walking straight through each of Lan Wangji's personal walls. "I'm jealous." 

Lan Wangji thinks of Wei Wuxian's sun-kissed skin, with light scars scattered about from a childhood of mischief and adventure before his core strengthened enough to heal most of his wounds. Then he thinks about how he's going to touch that skin very soon. His hands. On Wei Wuxian's skin. Touching him.

He swallows. The amount of effort that simple action takes is embarrassing. 

Wei Wuxian is done before Lan Wangji knows it; there wasn't much to wash—only his arm and his back. "There you go." Wei Wuxian smacks Lan Wangji's shoulder. Lan Wangji will never see the appeal of hitting one's companions for fun. "All clean! You can step out now, if you want."

Lan Wangji hesitates, and that alone makes Wei Wuxian grin. "Oh? What's this?" Wei Wuxian's low, knowing snicker instantly puts Lan Wangji into fight-or-flight mode. "What are you waiting for? Unless… you want to help me wash?"

Flight it is. Lan Wangji stands up with the full intention of stepping out of the bathtub.

Wei Wuxian laughs harder and pulls him back down. "No, wait! Sorry, sorry, Lan Zhan. Ah, look at you. I barely even tease you and you're already so mad! Come here, come here. Don't be mad anymore, okay? I still need you to wash me!"

"I'm not mad," Lan Wangji says, despite the annoyance simmering just beneath his skin, in his blood. Wei Wuxian is always like this, never meaning what he says and never saying what he means. It is infuriating.

Lan Wangji takes a bit of soap and begins vigorously rubbing it into Wei Wuxian's back. Fifteen seconds, he promises himself. Fifteen seconds to wash Wei Wuxian's back and arm, and he's done. If he focuses solely on getting the task done, then he should be able to get this over with quickly, and with minimal embarrassment. He will have no time to think about how warm Wei Wuxian's skin is under his hand, or listen to the soft content sounds Wei Wuxian makes, or count the freckles on his shoulders. 

Fifteen seconds.

There are eight freckles in total on Wei Wuxian's shoulders. 

Lan Wangji really wants to swear. 

It is by pure luck that the disciple sent by Lan Xichen to check on their wellbeing arrives outside the jingshi at that moment. Lan Wangji sends them away with a request to modify the sleeves of two standard Gusu Lan uniforms in his and Wei Wuxian's sizes, then sets about the difficult task of getting out of the bathtub without either him or Wei Wuxian slipping and falling. Eventually they're both out and sitting on Lan Wangji's bed, wearing the remains of yesterday's clothes as they wait for new ones. Lan Wangji had asked for the alterations to be done as soon as possible, but even with the tailors' considerable skill, it could take hours. 

Wei Wuxian is right, Lan Wangji thinks grudgingly. It is already eight. They are not going to be on time for anything today. 

Wei Wuxian seems thrilled that they are stuck in the jingshi. He stretches out as much as he can on the bed and settles happily among the blankets. "Lan Zhan, we should take a nap."

Oh, not a chance. It is entirely one thing to sleep in one bed at night, when the dark concealed them both. Sleeping in daytime, when Lan Wangji can see Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian can see him, is just asking for trouble. "No."

Pouting, Wei Wuxian grabs his pillow with his other hand and shoves it under his head, his still-damp hair spilling everywhere. "Well, I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when the clothes arrive, okay?"

Lan Wangji debates insisting that Wei Wuxian stay awake. He was difficult enough to wake in the morning and Lan Wangji is not keen to repeat the experience again, but a napping Wei Wuxian is a quiet Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji could sorely use some peace and quiet right about now. 

Wei Wuxian makes the decision for him by falling asleep, eyes closed in blissful slumber and Lan Wangji's hand tugged close to his chest. 

The clothes arrive just over two hours later, along with their breakfast. Lan Wangji suspects his uncle may be behind the tailors' expedited work, and makes a mental note to thank them later for what surely had to have been a stressful situation with the de facto clan leader breathing down their necks. 

Now, to wake up Wei Wuxian. 

"Let me help," Wei Wuxian insists, once they're both dressed. The robes' alterations are imperfect—clearly not up to the usual standard of Gusu Lan clothing—but they work, and at nearly noon, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are ready to leave the jingshi. 

Once Lan Wangji gets his forehead ribbon tied back on, that is.

Lan Wangji ducks out of Wei Wuxian's reach. "No."

Wei Wuxian tilts his head back and groans, "Why not?" 

"No."

"Lan Zhan, that's not an answer." 

It is an answer, Lan Wangji wants to argue. This is his forehead ribbon; Wei Wuxian can't just touch it. And Lan Wangji needs to wear it, but he's having difficulties getting it around his forehead with just one hand. 

Wei Wuxian has completely forgone his usual ponytail in favor of tying his red hair ribbon in a big bow at the end of his hair, and doesn't seem to understand why Lan Wangji cannot afford similar shortcuts when it comes to his forehead ribbon. "Why are you so protective over it? It's just a ribbon."

"It is not." Lan Wangji holds the ribbon protectively against his chest. "It is important." 

Wei Wuxian groans again, loudly. "Are you the only one who can touch it? Is there no one else who can help you?"

Lan Xichen can, Lan Wangji considers. As his brother, Lan Xichen is permitted to touch his forehead ribbon, but the last time he'd done so was when Lan Wangji was four and couldn't tie it properly. It is humiliating to go to him again, at age fifteen, for the same reason. 

"My brother," Lan Wangji admits. 

Wei Wuxian nods. "Alright, then. Let's go pay Zewu-Jun a visit."

Lan Xichen is far too kind to laugh at Lan Wangji's predicament, but he is not too kind to not smile, which is so much worse. He ties the forehead ribbon around Lan Wangji's bowed head and pats his shoulder. "There we are." 

"Thank you, xiong-zhang." Lan Wangji steps back. As a tiny act of rebellion, he adjusts his forehead ribbon right then and there, just to make sure Lan Xichen still knows that he can do it himself. 

"Thank you, Zewu-Jun." Wei Wuxian gives Lan Xichen a small bow. "And sorry for the disturbance, but someone doesn't think I'm worthy of touching his precious forehead ribbon, so we had to come bother you."

Lan Wangji knew he should have silenced Wei Wuxian with a spell before coming here. 

Lan Xichen gives them both a look that Lan Wangji doesn't like one bit. "It is no trouble." And then he brings his sleeve up to his mouth and politely coughs, which means he's barely restraining his laughter. "Be patient, Young Master Wei. There is always the possibility of Wangji changing his mind." 

Wei Wuxian blinks twice. "Ah?"

Alright, time to go. Lan Wangji bows stiffly. "We must leave. I hear shufu calling us. Wangji thanks xiong-zhang again for his help."

"Ah?" Wei Wuxian glances back and forth between Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen. "Did you? Because I didn't hear anyth—"

Lan Wangji doesn't let him finish; he sets a brisk pace away from the hanshi, and Wei Wuxian can do nothing but stumble after him. 

At a little past noon, at Wei Wuxian's insistence, they join Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng for lunch. 

"So it's a curse." Nie Huaisang flutters his fan as he peers at them from over its edge. "I am so happy my core is not strong enough for me to be assigned to any night-hunts. I can't imagine going through what you two are going through." 

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes as he stabs the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks. "Thank Heavens. I was wondering if Second Young Master Lan had lost his mind, holding hands with the likes of you." 

"Hey!" Wei Wuxian protests. "I'm fun to hold hands with! And Lan Zhan and I are having a great time bonding over this. This is definitely something we'll laugh about in the future."

With a mouth half-full with rice, Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a look of extreme doubt. "Yeah, right. He doesn't even like you."

Somehow, for some reason, that comment sits poorly with Lan Wangji. He squeezes Wei Wuxian's hand without thinking and says, "No talking during meals." 

Jiang Cheng almost glares at Lan Wangji before deciding it isn't worth it. Nie Huaisang just watches them from behind his fan, his eyes darting back and forth between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji with a smile and squeezes his hand back. The action is gentle, but the way it makes Lan Wangji's heart rate skyrocket is not. 

At two in the afternoon, Wei Wuxian discovers that if he doesn't want to go somewhere, he can just lie down on the ground and refuse to move. His reasoning is that Lan Wangji won't dare pick him up out of aversion to physical contact, and he won't drag Wei Wuxian out of fear of injuring him.

Lan Wangji is frustrated, because Wei Wuxian is correct, so now they're stuck in the middle of the path to their next class with Wei Wuxian on the ground, whining that being cursed should automatically excuse them from any and all responsibilities. 

Is this how parents with toddlers often feel? If so, then Lan Wangji has the highest respect for them, because he can't even handle a fifteen-year-old who should know better.

In the end, he is saved by none other than Jiang Cheng, who was sent out to look for them by Lan Qiren and has no such qualms against picking Wei Wuxian up and carrying him in as uncomfortable a position as possible to class. 

At five in the evening, Lan Wangji finally decides that enough is enough. The next time Wei Wuxian decides to lie down—this time because he wants to go see Caiyi Town at sunset—Lan Wangji rolls him over and picks him up around his waist.

It is an awkward position. Since Lan Wangji's left hand is stuck to Wei Wuxian's right, Lan Wangji had to bring Wei Wuxian's right arm across his torso in order for Lan Wangji to pick him up properly. Even so, it is clearly uncomfortable; both of them are roughly the same height, and Wei Wuxian's legs dangle just above the ground with each step Lan Wangji takes. It feels a bit like carrying a cat, although Lan Wangji would never carry a cat like this.

Wei Wuxian is oddly quiet as he's carried, perhaps trying to come to terms with Lan Wangji's change in tolerance of him, or maybe scheming up another way to hinder both of them. Lan Wangji hopes it's the former. Progress has been made on the Danyang case, but the locals are being unforthcoming with parts of the investigation. It looks like he and Wei Wuxian might be stuck together for another day or two, and Lan Wangji already feels exhausted beyond belief. 

At least Wei Wuxian is cooperative during supper, eating whatever Lan Wangji gives him and not trying to snatch food directly off of his chopsticks. 

When Wei Wuxian gets ready for bed without protest at nine o’clock sharp, Lan Wangji seriously considers performing an exorcism on him. 

"What? I'm tired! Can't a man be tired, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian unties his right arm's sleeve and pulls it back to get his robe off. 

"Being tired has never stopped you from wanting to stay up." Lan Wangji watches him with narrowed eyes. "Why the change of heart?"

"Maybe it's because I pity you for having to put up with me all day." Wei Wuxian tosses his robe onto a nearby chair. "Can't I be good for once? For you?"

For you. Lan Wangji wants to scream into a pillow. He has never done so before, but he has heard that it's cathartic. "Doubtful."

Wei Wuxian makes a face. "What do you want me to do, Lan Zhan? When I'm breaking the rules, you punish me. When I'm not breaking the rules, you think I'm up to no good. Am I really that pathetic in your eyes, Second Young Master Lan?"

Lan Wangji does not think he's pathetic—has never thought him pathetic—but doesn't know how to say this without the inevitable teasing that would follow. "Be mindful of possible side effects of the curse, including changes in behavior."

"I don't think there will be any side effects." Wei Wuxian nudges his boots off with his toes. "The array Zewu-Jun cast on our hands will activate if the curse progresses, and so far, it hasn't.

That is true, Lan Wangji has to admit. Still, Wei Wuxian's sudden obedience necessitates caution. Lan Wangji will just have to keep a closer eye on him. 

Wei Wuxian follows him around the room as he extinguishes the candles. Right after Lan Wangji puts out the last one, Wei Wuxian tugs them over to the bed, climbs on, pulls Lan Wangji's blanket back, and enthusiastically pats the mattress. Lan Wangji sighs, but lies down and feels the covers being tucked around him again. 

"Goodnight, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian chirps as he sidles up against Lan Wangji, his cheek pressed against Lan Wangji's shoulder and his right arm tossed across Lan Wangji's torso. He doesn't even try to maintain the facade of staying on his side of the bed. 

Lan Wangji sighs all his day's weariness out, and replies, "Goodnight, Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian's good behavior continues into the next day. He was only mildly difficult to wake up in the morning, and ate his breakfast without a word. They even made it to their first class on time, which rang all sorts of alarm bells in Lan Wangji's mind. 

The only, only, reason Lan Wangji hasn't utterly lost his mind is because, while they were on their way to their next class, he slipped an exorcism talisman out from his sleeve and stuck it to Wei Wuxian's forehead. Then Wei Wuxian, in classic Wei Wuxian fashion, took the talisman off of his forehead, and—without blinking or looking away from Lan Wangji—crammed it into his own mouth. 

The cinnabar drawings on talismans aren't safe for ingestion. It took five whole minutes, but Lan Wangji managed to fish the talisman out of a giggling Wei Wuxian's mouth.

So. 

Wei Wuxian is fine. 

He's just… well-behaved now. He's even taking his own notes in class with his left hand. 

Lan Wangji isn't sure how to feel about this. Wei Wuxian is a rule-breaker, a force of nature, but he isn't bad, despite how many times Lan Wangji has scolded him for his improper behavior. Now that Wei Wuxian has seemingly decided to abide by the rules, it feels like a bit of him has been lost, a touch of spark faded away. He still smiles and tugs on Lan Wangji's hand whenever he wants attention, but he's quieter now. 

A sense of dread crawls across Lan Wangji. Perhaps he has been too harsh in his reprimand of Wei Wuxian, or maybe Lan Wangji's chilly disposition discouraged him too much. Whatever the reason, Lan Wangji is not alright with it. Wei Wuxian does not need to change. 

Their music instructor is away from the Cloud Recesses to visit family members, so music class has been dismissed and they have the rest of the day free. Lan Wangji originally had planned to go to the Library Pavilion to get some reading done, but clearing things up with Wei Wuxian takes precedence. In the most infuriating of ironies, Lan Wangji doesn't want to sit through another silent mealtime with him, despite having told him to be quiet so many times. 

Wei Wuxian must have the same idea; after their class, he leads Lan Wangji towards one of the outer courtyards of the Cloud Recesses, where there is less foot traffic and more privacy. Lan Wangji follows without resistance. 

They reach a quiet, secluded area near a magnolia tree. Lan Wangji leans back a little to pull them to a stop. "Wei Ying," he starts. He should start, especially if he is to blame for all this. "I'd like to apolo—"

He stops. Oh, no. 

Oh, no. 

Wei Wuxian is giving him a look. He knows that look. That look has haunted his dreams ever since he saw it right before he unintentionally picked up a book of erotic art months ago back at the Library Pavilion. The raised eyebrows. The anticipation in Wei Wuxian's eyes. The little 'gotcha' quirk of his lips.

See, one thing Lan Wangji knows he needs to stop doing is underestimating Wei Wuxian. He keeps doing that, and it always comes back to bite him. What was he thinking, assuming that he means enough to Wei Wuxian that his opinions could deeply affect Wei Wuxian's behavior? What was he thinking, so obliviously following Wei Wuxian to a place where no one could see them? 

Wei Wuxian spins, ducking under their connected hands and bringing them down over his shoulder. At the same time, his free hand slips between Lan Wangji's legs and grips his thigh. With a grunt, Wei Wuxian stands up, with an incredibly flustered Lan Wangji draped across his shoulders. 

Lan Wangji gasps, then gives an oof when Wei Wuxian bounces to adjust his carry. "Wei Ying! What are you doing?!"

"Kidnapping you!" Wei Wuxian laughs as he jogs over to the side door leading to outside of the Cloud Recesses—the door that Lan Wangji didn't once think about, because he thought that Wei Wuxian wanted to talk. "Ah, Lan Zhan! You have no idea how much effort I had to put into all this! You know, this would be much easier if you didn't always refuse me all the time."

For a split second, Lan Wangji fully believes that Wei Wuxian intends to take him away from his home forever. Then he remembers that Wei Wuxian is almost always joking. "My uncle will send out search parties if I'm not where I'm supposed to be."

"Nah, I think he knows by now." Wei Wuxian kicks the door open and steps through; Lan Wangji wilts at the sound. "I left notes saying we'll be back by bedtime."

Notes. Lan Wangji wants to smack himself. He has been so preoccupied with how oddly Wei Wuxian was acting that he forgot to check what, exactly, Wei Wuxian was writing down in all those notes. 

"Put. Me. Down." His fingers grab at Wei Wuxian's arm.

"Nope." Wei Wuxian trots past the Cloud Recesses' stone border marker. "We're no longer in the Cloud Recesses, which means I don't have to listen to you!"

That's not how this works. That's not how this works at all. "Where are you taking me?"

"To Caiyi Town!" Wei Wuxian slides down a part of the path, sending a small slide of rocks tumbling between tangled roots. "I've been trying to hint at wanting to go for the past two days, and you refused me every time. Now that we have no classes, we should go!"

Lan Wangji thinks about the Library Pavilion, and how his brother is going to smile his hidden-behind-his-sleeve smile once he realizes that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian aren't there. How mortifying. "We should be focusing on our cultivation."

"We have the rest of our lives to spend cultivating! Have a little fun every now and then!" Wei Wuxian stumbles a little, but regains his footing with no issue. "Whoops! Sorry about that. I won't drop you, I promise."

While Lan Wangji believes him, he is less sure about the off-path route Wei Wuxian has taken. "Put me down."

"No can do, Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian hops over a dip on the mountainside. "We're not there yet."

Lan Wangji does not want to be carried into Caiyi Town as if he were a wayward sheep being brought home. "I will go with you."

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue. "You kind of don't have a choice there."

"I will go with you willingly," Lan Wangji clarifies. 

That stops Wei Wuxian in his tracks. "Really?" He sounds unconvinced, which is… a bit insulting. Lan Wangji wouldn't lie, especially not to Wei Wuxian. 

"Being kidnapped was not on my schedule today," Lan Wangji says, ignoring Wei Wuxian's amused snort. "But if it must be, I prefer to walk on my own."

Wei Wuxian makes a thoughtful sound. "I don't know. I kind of like carrying you around. I should do this more often."

Lan Wangji never begs, but Wei Wuxian has a way of pushing him to his limits. "Please put me down."

"'Please,' he says!" Wei Wuxian laughs, his shoulders shaking. "Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan! You suffer too much at my hands!" Still chuckling, he slowly bends down and slides Lan Wangji off of his shoulders. 

Firm earth has never felt better beneath his feet. Lan Wangji adjusts his robes and smooths out his forehead ribbon. He has no idea how he is going to explain any of this to his uncle, but technically going with Wei Wuxian is not breaking any rules. Lan Wangji indeed has no other responsibilities for the rest of the day, and neither does Wei Wuxian. So long as they're back before bedtime, Lan Wangji does not have a good reason as to why he shouldn't go to Caiyi Town. 

"We will be quick," Lan Wangji tells him firmly. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back."

Wei Wuxian beams at him with the force of a summer sun at noon. "Okay!" 

Lan Wangji has been to Caiyi Town with Wei Wuxian before, although that was to investigate the appearance of water ghouls. The discovery of a waterborne abyss tends to dampen moods, and Lan Wangji recalls little else from that day aside from Wei Wuxian splashing him, Wei Wuxian nearly drowning, and Wei Wuxian pointing to him as he asked a girl selling loquats if she thought Lan Wangji was good-looking. 

Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian. It concerns Lan Wangji how deeply-rooted his thoughts of Wei Wuxian are. Almost against his will, his mind seems to take every interaction they have, analyze it to incomprehension, and bury it so far into his psyche that sometimes Lan Wangji wakes up from dreams of memories relived, always with Wei Wuxian's smiling face looking at him. 

The fact that Lan Wangji has gotten to witness the actual Wei Wuxian greeting him with a sleepy smile for the past two mornings is very bad for his health—and very bad for the restless turmoil within his chest. 

He does not understand—might never understand—what pulls him so much to Wei Wuxian. He hasn't a single idea why he is drawn to someone who has repeatedly intruded on his personal boundaries and teased him until he felt ready to explode from outrage. The teasing in particular is sometimes difficult to bear. It makes Lan Wangji feel vulnerable, exposed, like Wei Wuxian can see the softest parts of him and isn't afraid to drive a nail straight into them. 

Exposed is definitely how Lan Wangji feels right now, being led by the hand directly into the heart of Caiyi Town's bustling streets. It is almost a little past midday, and there are many people out and about—which means many pairs of eyes looking in their direction as Wei Wuxian eagerly weaves through the crowd. 

These are common people, non-cultivators. They do not know of the various types of curses that exist, and therefore Lan Wangji cannot expect them to look at Wei Wuxian holding his hand and come to any conclusion other than that they are—

Wei Wuxian stops and pulls them to the side of the street just in time to let a mule cart pass. "Wow! There are so many people here!" He grins at Lan Wangji. "Have you been here before for fun?" 

Lan Wangji tries to swallow. Fails. Wei Wuxian's free hand is on Lan Wangji's other arm, pulling him close—as if it was even possible for them to get separated and lost among the crowd. "No," he manages to answer. 

Wei Wuxian gives a sympathetic hum and pats Lan Wangji's shoulder. "Poor, poor Lan Zhan. Ah, what a tragedy! Good thing you have me here to take you everywhere. We can explore Caiyi Town together, alright?" 

Together. A dangerous word. It makes Lan Wangji want too much. "Alright."

With a pleased little heh, Wei Wuxian takes them back onto the street. Despite having only come to Caiyi Town once before, he looks completely at ease. He takes them from stall to stall, chatting with the vendors and marvelling over their goods. "Lan Zhan! Smell this!" he says as he shoves a handful of dark spice in front of Lan Wangji's face. 

The scent is overpoweringly strong, earthy, and makes his nose itch. Lan Wangji turns away and sneezes into his sleeve. 

Wei Wuxian stares at him in silence for a beat or two before hurriedly putting the spices down. "I'm sorry, pretty miss, but I think my friend's allergic, so sadly we will not be buying your goods," he tells the clearly bemused lady. 

"It is alright," she giggles, her gaze flitting down to their hands. "Take good care of your 'friend' here, and make sure he doesn't eat any northern peppercorns." 

Lan Wangji doesn't know what's so unique about northern peppercorns, and he doesn't like how the woman said 'friend' in that way. Wei Wuxian doesn't give him time to think, and they're off to the next stall, which is selling fried scallion pancakes.

"See, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian nudges him with his elbow as the vendor adds chili sauce, eggs, and pork to the pancakes. "Doesn't that look tasty? You should give the Cloud Recesses' kitchen staff some tips once we get back. You could revolutionize your family's cuisine!" 

The sizzle of oil is loud, and the vendor is not shy with the sauces. Lan Wangji doubts his uncle would allow it. "Do you want one?" 

"Hm?" Wei Wuxian hasn't stopped watching the pancake being folded. "What, are you going to buy me one? Did you bring money?" 

Lan Wangji… did not bring money. But Caiyi Town is frequently visited by Gusu Lan disciples, and word has surely spread about their handling of the water ghouls. Lan Xichen once mentioned using his jade pendant to purchase items from local shops that recognize the Gusu Lan seal. 

Perhaps…

The person in front of them receives their pancake and walks away. Stepping forward, Lan Wangji meets the vendor's eyes. "Pardon me, honored sir. I am a disciple of the Gusu Lan Sect. Is it possible for me to use my jade pendant to make purchases?" 

The vendor gives a start when he sees Lan Wangji. "Oh! The Gusu Lan Sect? Are you a cultivator?" 

Lan Wangji nods. "If the reimbursement process is tedious or unfamiliar to you, I am willing to draw protection talismans in exchange for a pancake."

The man scratches his chin with the handle end of his spatula. "Hm, well, you're definitely handsome enough to be a cultivator, and that sword of yours looks like the real deal, but I actually moved here just last week. I don't know about the reimbursement process with the Gusu Lan Sect." He leans a little forward and peers down at Lan Wangji's side. Then, surprisingly, he gives a small chuckle. "Ah, tell you what—how about I just give you one? It looks like you two are having a special day. What's your name?"

Oh, Lan Wangji thinks, a little hazily. He wasn't looking at Bichen. 

Good thing Wei Wuxian is always quick on his feet. While Lan Wangji is struggling to find words, he hops forward. "His name is Lan Wangji!" he answers with a blinding smile. "The Second Young Master Lan, one of Gusu Lan's Twin Jades, the most handsome man of our generation—"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji wheezes. 

The vendor gives a loud belly laugh. "Lan Wangji and Wei Ying, what would you like on your pancake?"

As Wei Wuxian happily picks out ingredients, Lan Wangji is still trying to wrangle his thoughts around what just happened. The vendor is new and unfamiliar with the payment process that Lan disciples use, but he has decided to make them a pancake for free because he saw their hands. Their hands. And he must have jumped to the conclusion that they—that Lan Wangji—and Wei Wuxian—

A squeeze around his hand brought him back. "Here you go, Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian hands him half of a still-steaming pancake, rolled up and stuffed into a paper wrap. Lan Wangji can smell scallions, eggs, onions, chicken, and way too many sauces. He takes it without protest. 

Wei Wuxian takes the other half and waves at the vendor with it. "Thank you, kind sir! I'll be sure to tell everyone about how wonderful your pancakes are!" 

The vendor laughs again and waves back. "Enjoy your day in Caiyi Town together!"

Together. That word, again. Lan Wangji's brain is going to fry. 

Completely oblivious as usual, Wei Wuxian skips as they head down the street. "Lan Zhan got us a free pancake!" he cheers. "Lan Zhan got us a free pancake!" He pauses to crush Lan Wangji in a tight hug.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji wheezes, again—this time because air is being squeezed out of his lungs, and this much body contact is not helping him breathe.

"Free pancake!" Wei Wuxian warbles as he lets Lan Wangji go. "Let's go sit by the river and watch the boats!"

Lan Wangji isn't sure what the appeal of that is, but sitting and watching sound like quiet activities—and a good opportunity for him to parse through the events of the past five minutes. He nods. 

Wei Wuxian is only too happy to lead the way.

The scallion pancake is very good, Lan Wangji discovers, and so is the dragon's beard candy that catches Wei Wuxian's eye as they make their way to a boat rental area. As Lan Wangji carefully chews through a piece of dragon's beard candy wrapped around nuts, Wei Wuxian tears into one and munches on it without a thought of decorum. With half of it hanging out of his mouth, it does somewhat resemble a beard. 

Upon noticing Lan Wangji's gaze, Wei Wuxian crosses his eyes and comically wiggles his lips, making the candy strands bounce. 

Lan Wangji doesn't laugh, but his mouth must have done something, because Wei Wuxian bursts out laughing and covers both of them in candy. 

Once they're both clean again, they get sidetracked again by a stall selling oil-paper umbrellas. Wei Wuxian picks out one depicting magnolia blossoms at the edge of a lake with a pavilion. 

"Lan Qiren will kill me if I bring you back sunburned," he explains as he gives the umbrella to Lan Wangji. "Even though I think it would be hilarious if your forehead ribbon left a white line on your head."

"It would make it easier to position my forehead ribbon correctly," Lan Wangji says, as if he doesn't already adjust his ribbon perfectly everyday. 

Wei Wuxian laughs for so long and so hard that Lan Wangji has to pay for the umbrella and drag them away before the vendor gets annoyed with them. 

When they finally arrive at the boat rentals, Wei Wuxian sets his eye on one of the smaller riverboats with a sculling oar and a single thwart to sit on. After the dockmaster checks Lan Wangji's jade pendant, he leads them down the dock, sets the oarlock pin, and tells them to have fun. 

"Watch your step." Wei Wuxian braces himself as he helps Lan Wangji onto the boat.

Lan Wangji does not need the help, but he accepts it anyway. Gingerly, he sits down on the thwart, so that their joined hands are not awkwardly in the way. He adjusts his hold on the umbrella and sways a little when Wei Wuxian pushes them off. 

As Wei Wuxian takes the oar and begins to scull them out into the center of the canal, Lan Wangji’s eyes catch on his shoulder, his wrist, the practiced back-and-forth motion. He’s leaning forward, one elbow on his knee to keep his other hand within reach, like he does this every day. When they are out from between the tied-up boats at the dock, he looks at Lan Wangji. After a moment, he smiles, and his shoulders shake a little with his chuckle. 

"What is it?" Lan Wangji can't help asking. 

"Oh, nothing, nothing." Wei Wuxian's rowing steadies in pace and rhythm. "I just think you look very pretty."

Oddly enough, Lan Wangji doesn't feel like throwing himself off the boat or smacking Wei Wuxian with the top of the umbrella. It must be the serene scenery or the bustle of a lively town. "Shameless," he says, without any bite. 

"You do!" Wei Wuxian laughs, the wind teasing his hair. "You kind of remind me of one of those maidens from famous paintings—you know, the ones with flowing robes and delicate fingers who are always holding a fan or an umbrella or some instrument."

Despite the umbrella keeping the sun's heat off of Lan Wangji's back, he can feel his ears warm. "Ridiculous."

"Yes, yes, ridiculous. I'm the most ridiculous." Wei Wuxian pauses in his rowing as they glide under a bridge. He cocks his head. "You know, the first time I've ever seen you with an umbrella was shortly after the waterborne abyss incident."

Lan Wangji remembers it well. It was raining that night, and Wei Wuxian snuck in wine again. Their ensuing fight led to both of them tumbling outside of the Cloud Recesses' walls and resulted in their shared punishment in the morning. "You were breaking the rules."

"You were so mean, Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian heaves a dramatic sigh. "Now look at you, spending the day with me, paying for food, and holding my hand." 

Now Lan Wangji is certain his ears are red. "The curse," he says.

"I know." Wei Wuxian steers them past another boat coming from the opposite direction. "Without it, I bet you wouldn't come here with me at all." 

Perhaps, Lan Wangji must admit. Wei Wuxian has invited him to Yunmeng before, and Lan Wangji staunchly refused to go. He regrets it, especially since he can’t remember ever feeling lighter than he does right now, in this boat, sitting next to Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian't doesn't seem to notice that Lan Wangji didn't respond. "Well, I'm happy you're here with me now," he says with another one of his radiant smiles. This one feels true, like it originated from the very depths of his soul, and shines through in his eyes. 

Lan Wangji—cannot bring himself to say it back, to hear in his own voice, "I'm happy I'm with you, too." It feels—too much, like a confession of sorts. Like looking back into the chasm that has followed him everywhere and choosing to jump into it, and falling, and falling. At this point, Lan Wangji can't even say for certain that he hasn't already slipped past its edge, isn’t plummeting towards inevitable anguish.

He should be afraid—is a little afraid, if he's being truthful. Wei Wuxian could crush him so easily, could tear every bit of him apart with so little effort. But he doesn't feel scared. He feels. Happy. 

He gives Wei Wuxian's hand a light squeeze, and is pleased to feel one in return. Wei Wuxian smiles, and it is only for him. There is nowhere else Lan Wangji would rather be. 

Then Wei Wuxian spots a riverside vintner selling jars of Emperor's Smile. With a frighteningly-eager squeal, he jams the oar into the water and spins the boat around, leaving turbulent water as they slide sideways into reach of the display.

If Wei Wuxian was joyful before, he is absolutely elated to have found some Emperor's Smile. He buys two jars before Lan Wangji can show the vintner his jade pendant, and sets them down in the boat. "There!" he grins as he pats the tops of both jars. "A little something for later in the evening!" 

It is still afternoon. Something in Lan Wangji sings at the thought of more hours with Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian eyes him curiously. "Aren't you going to scold me for drinking, Lan er-ge?" 

If they were in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji would. But they are not. Caiyi Town is just at the foot of the Cloud Recesses' mountain, yet somehow it feels an entire world away from the life Lan Wangji grew up with. "There are no rules forbidding drinking outside of the Cloud Recesses."

It is the truth, but it is enough to make Wei Wuxian's eyes light up. "I will keep that in mind," he says with a gleeful little cackle. Lan Wangji has no doubt that he is going to find Wei Wuxian drinking just outside of the Cloud Recesses' border soon. 

He should also mention that it is forbidden to be drunk inside the Cloud Recesses, but Wei Wuxian should know that already. And if he doesn't know, then certainly he must copy the rule until he knows, and he should do so in the Library Pavilion, with Lan Wangji supervising him. 

Lan Wangji has heard that Caiyi Town’s waterways are its heart and life, and they certainly are busy this afternoon, full of the boats of both locals and travelers. Wei Wuxian has no trouble slipping their small riverboat into the closing gaps between the larger ones and loudly greeting the passengers on them. He gets stories from them, tales and anecdotes from people with homes near and far. 

There is a family on vacation—a happily-married couple bouncing a gurgling baby in their laps. The husband is highly amused by the name of Wei Wuxian's sword, and the wife coos over how handsome she thinks Lan Wangji is. When she teasingly says that she should have been born a decade later and preferably in Gusu, her husband sputters indignantly and she laughs against his shoulder.

"I'm joking. I'm joking." She kisses her husband on the cheek; Lan Wangji feels the need to look away, to give them their privacy. "I have you, and these two have each other. Heaven is kind, and fate is good."

"Yep, he's stuck with me," Wei Wuxian announces cheerfully as he lifts their hands, which earns him another laugh from the wife and an amusingly-exasperated look from the husband. 

Lan Wangji doesn't know what Wei Wuxian means—that they are literally stuck, or that he doesn't plan to let Lan Wangji go. The implications of the latter are too much to bear.

Another boat they pass by carries a less happy couple, both middle-aged. The husband glances at them and says to his wife, "Remember when we used to look like that?" 

"Yes," she snaps at him. "I remember you pushing me off the boat in front of all your friends. I caught a cold the next day. My father was furious!"

Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji and repeats the woman's words in a quiet but high-pitched voice. Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow in reprimand—'do not mock or ridicule' is one of the basic Gusu Lan rules—and Wei Wuxian breaks off with a acquiescing smile as he rows them away from the now-arguing couple. 

Vendors line the edges of the canals, calling out to potential customers to come and buy their wares. Oftentimes the boats don't even stop; the passengers toss their coins, and the vendors toss back their goods.

Wei Wuxian is no different, and soon their little boat is filling up with various items, ranging from fragrant paper birds to fried rice balls to salted eggs. At this rate, Lan Wangji doubts they will need a proper supper; there is just so much food. 

There are two girls selling baskets of fresh flowers at an intersection point with high traffic in both the waterways and the roads. When one spots Wei Wuxian, she calls out in the Gusu dialect, "Young Master! Handsome Young Master! Over here! Would your sweetheart like some flowers?" 

Lan Wangji ducks his head, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. 

Wei Wuxian looks at him curiously. "What is she saying?" 

So far, Wei Wuxian hasn't had any difficulties interacting with any of the vendors, even if they speak in the Gusu dialect. Transactions are simple, and numbers are universal. Name a price, haggle over it, exchange money for goods, and all parties part ways without much need to fully understand one another. 

This was different. Wei Wuxian is directly asking him for a translation.

Lan Wangji swallows. "She's asking if you want to buy flowers," he answers.

Wei Wuxian's eyes light up. "Oh! Is she, now?" He turns the oar so that the boat drifts towards the girls. "Hello, pretty miss! How much for the flowers?" 

The girl giggles. "Five coins for a basket! Your sweetheart is handsome, but he'll look even better with flowers in his hair!" 

Lan Wangji is shocked that he manages to say, "Five coins," somewhat coherently. 

Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes teasingly. "Are you sure that's what she said? She talked for quite a bit. I doubt she just said, 'Five coins'."

Caught. Lan Wangji frowns at Wei Wuxian. "I am summarizing." 

"Really?" Wei Wuxian's gaze gains a mischievous glint. "And you're not at all intentionally leaving out anything nice she may be saying about me or you?"

Caught again. Lan Wangji turns away and adjusts his hold on the umbrella so that its canopy shields him from Wei Wuxian's line of sight. He hears Wei Wuxian laugh and compliment the girl as coins clink in his hands. 

A while later, the boat rocks slightly as Wei Wuxian sits back down and resumes rowing. "Lan Zhan," he calls gently. "Look what I got you."

Lan Wangji already knows what it is; the girl is only selling flowers. Nonetheless, the sight of magnolias, peonies, and plum blossoms in a basket at his feet is still a surprise. He has no free hands to pick the basket up, so he stares at the flowers, quietly marvelling at the soft pinks and whites. 

Then Wei Wuxian is bending down and taking a pink peony out of the bouquet. "She didn't have any blue flowers," he tucks the flower into Lan Wangji's hair, pushing the stem into place among neatly-styled locks, "but I think you look good in any color." 

Lan Wangji truly doesn't know what to say. He can only stare at Wei Wuxian with his heart in his throat, muffling his vocal chords. The petals of the peony are soft against his temple, and a few must be pressed against his forehead ribbon. 

"Now you look just like my drawing of you," Wei Wuxian laughs. 

The setting sun brings with it a sort of melancholy, a reminder that the day is beginning to draw to a close. They spend it lounging in their moored boat, eating the snacks they bought as they watch the sky turn shades of red and pink. 

Wei Wuxian takes another swig of Emperor's Smile; Lan Wangji has forbidden him from directly pouring it into his mouth like he usually does. "It's a shame you don't drink, Lan Zhan," he sighs as he puts the top back on the jar, "You have the world's best wine practically at your doorstep. If I lived here, I would have a jar of Emperor's Smile every day."

If Wei Wuxian lived here. The thought makes Lan Wangji warm inside. He briefly entertains the fantasy of Wei Wuxian living in Caiyi Town when he's older, where Lan Wangji can visit him whenever he wants. Before night-hunts, he can stop by Wei Wuxian's house and wait for him to get ready, and afterwards, they can have snacks by the canals. 

Lan Wangji doesn't dare imagine more than that. Anything more is dangerous, and Wei Wuxian already looks so soft lying down the length of the boat with sunset warming his cheeks. It makes Lan Wangji feel reckless, just a hair's breadth away from losing control and doing—or saying—something irreversible.

He doesn't want to ruin this. Any of this. It already feels so impossibly fragile to him. He wants to preserve it. Greed will not get him anything. 

A gentle tug on his hair brings him back. Wei Wuxian looks up at him with eyes that reflect the sky. "Don't look so down, Lan Zhan. I promised I would bring us back before bedtime." He grins; there are sesame seeds stuck around his mouth. "Just another hour or so and we can start heading back, alright?" 

Just another hour or two of this. Lan Wangji uses his handkerchief to wipe away the sesame seeds from Wei Wuxian's face. What he wouldn't give for just a bit more time. 

Wei Wuxian passively lets Lan Wangji clean his face before trying to bite the handkerchief. Lan Wangji, who knows more than he ever thought he would about the hassle of prying inedible objects from Wei Wuxian's mouth, snatches his handkerchief away in time. 

Wei Wuxian laughs, then pushes himself up into a sitting position. "Do you want to find a restaurant for supper? I know we just spent the whole day eating, but it's all snacks, and maybe you'd like to finish the day with some light soup or something."

The sun dips below the horizon, and stars are beginning to crawl their way across the sky. Calm blues and purples start to replace hazy reds and oranges, but Wei Wuxian's eyes are still as bright as ever. 

Lan Wangji doesn't dare look away, not with night so rapidly approaching. "Alright."

By the time they return the boat, night has already fallen and Wei Wuxian has acquired a paper lantern with lotuses painted on it. After they put their souvenirs into a qiankun bag, they head towards one of the busier streets. 

Caiyi Town quiets down a little at night, with most of its people at home or gathered in restaurants and wine shops. Whenever they pass by such places, Lan Wangji can hear laughter and shouting coming from inside. There are still stalls open on the streets, as well as performances. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian stop to watch a man sing a ballad. 

"Would be better with some guqin accompaniment," Wei Wuxian ponders out loud, before they move on to watch some dancers. 

Lan Wangji is far more comfortable now that there are fewer people in the streets. Hardly anyone spares them a glance, much less look at their joined hands, and Lan Wangji is free to simply enjoy their stroll.

Wei Wuxian is no less eager than he was during the day, excitedly flitting from attraction to attraction, chatting with the people there and shouting his approval after every successful act or trick. Lan Wangji is content to observe quietly, and goes wherever Wei Wuxian takes them without a word of protest. 

They stop by a crowded restaurant that is promoting their fish soup dish. There is a line for seating inside the restaurant, so Wei Wuxian asks to be seated outside. The serving girl leading them to their table looks at their hands, clicks her tongue, and tells Lan Wangji that he'd better hold onto Wei Wuxian tightly; otherwise, she may try to steal Wei Wuxian away from him. 

Their table seats two people on opposite ends, but Lan Wangji deliberately kicks his chair closer to Wei Wuxian's and sits down before the serving girl can move it back. Wei Wuxian gives him a funny look about it, but lets the issue go when Lan Wangji explains that being seated facing each other would force them to keep their hands on the table, which could get in the way of the dishes. 

Later, after ordering the fish soup with some light vegetables and rice, Lan Wangji is still silently berating himself for losing control over a simple comment. Wei Wuxian entertaining every strangers' assumptions about them doesn't mean anything. Lan Wangji has neither right nor reason to do what he did, as if he and Wei Wuxian actually were—

A pair of chopsticks setting vegetables down in his rice bowl startles him out of thought. He watches disbelievingly as Wei Wuxian gives him a piece of fish. He's holding the chopsticks.

In his left hand. 

Lan Wangji should have known. Really. He isn't even sure why he's surprised. 

"So you can feed yourself," he accuses. 

Wei Wuxian freezes with a chunk of white fish meat en route from the soup dish to Lan Wangji's bowl. "Erhm, uh, I mean—" He quickly sets the meat down and drops his chopstick back onto the table. Then he puts his chin on Lan Wangji's shoulder and whines, "Lan Zhaa-aan, I can't use chopsticks with you holding my hand, please fee-eed me."

"Shameless," Lan Wangji hisses through his teeth. Wei Wuxian's face is too close, and Lan Wangji can feel each of his exhales. "Wei Ying, we're not alone."

"Ooh, you want us alone?" Wei Wuxian gazes at him through half-lidded eyes. The group of people seated behind him are trying their best not to be obvious about listening in. "How salacious of you, Lan Zhan. Who's the truly shameless one here?"

If this had happened yesterday, in the privacy of the jingshi, Lan Wangji would have had no issue silencing Wei Wuxian with a spell. But they are in public, resting after a long day that feels more like a dream than reality. And there are people watching. 

Lan Wangji doesn't know why he does it. Maybe he is more tired than he thinks he is—or maybe he's too relaxed, drunk off of a day they spent not as cultivators, but as two boys sightseeing and enjoying each other's company. 

"You are still the shameless one," he says—then, almost as if his mind has a failsafe, he switches to Gusu dialect at the last possible moment, "sweetheart."

Wei Wuxian blinks at him once, then twice. He is silent. 

Ah.

Lan Wangji has made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. Wei Wuxian may not understand Gusu dialect, but he is devastatingly good at retaining information. He can play a song he's heard only once with exact precision; if he recognizes a similarity between the flower vendor's and Lan Wangji's words and makes the reasonable assumption that both of them must be saying nice things, then Lan Wangji is done for.

He waits, his heart beating so frantically it feels like a drum in his chest. 

After what feels like forever, Wei Wuxian opens his mouth and says, "Did you just call me 'asshole' in the Gusu dialect?"

Aaand the feeling is gone. Lan Wangji frowns. "I did not."

"Sweetheart?" Wei Wuxian repeats. Oh no, Lan Wangji fully regrets this. "Sweetheart? Lan Zhan, are you a sweetheart?"

Just when Lan Wangji's heart was starting to calming down, too. "Stop saying that," he chokes out. 

"Why? Is it bad, sweetheart?" Wei Wuxian grins and leans closer. Lan Wangji considers knocking himself out. "If you want me to stop saying it, then I want to hear you say it again. Call me sweetheart."

Lan Wangji is so grateful that he likely won't encounter any of the customers at the nearby tables ever again. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to look at Wei Wuxian. "Sweetheart," he says. It comes out softer and quieter than he intended.

Something changes in Wei Wuxian's expression, a flicker where his smile fails and his eyes grow wide. Then it's gone, and Wei Wuxian is giggling. "Ah, I should stop teasing you." He sits back down in his seat. "You've endured a great deal today. We should finish our visit on a good note!" He picks up his chopsticks, and starts getting food for himself from the dishes. 

Lan Wangji watches him with a sort of speechlessness. He is certain Wei Wuxian doesn't know what the word means, but he reacted a bit differently that time. And he isn't begging Lan Wangji to feed him. 

They should, indeed, end their visit on a good note. Right now, Lan Wangji isn't certain that's the case. Perhaps he went too far. 

Wordlessly, Lan Wangji puts fish in Wei Wuxian's bowl, along with a healthy helping of eggplant and tofu. He also spoons some of the soup into a separate smaller bowl and places it in front of Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian looks at him and smiles. Lan Wangji is relieved beyond description to see that it's genuine. "Lan er-gege takes such good care of me." He beams. "You're so good, Lan Zhan."

One of Gusu Lan's most important and difficult rules is: accept defeat with humility. 

Lan Wangji thought he understood it. He knows to yield to his elders and heed his uncle's criticism whenever he underperforms. Whenever he loses, be it in sparring or a game of weiqi with his brother, he accepts it without protest and bears no grudge in his heart. He always thought defeat involved the actions of others, and that it required at least one other person to know of it. 

He never thought he would have to admit defeat to himself. 

The realization comes once they land back at the Cloud Recesses—although the realization has been brewing ever since supper. After much needling from Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji acquiesced to flying home on Bichen together, since his cultivation is higher than Wei Wuxian's and he can comfortably handle the weight of another person on his sword. The warmth of Wei Wuxian standing so close to him while they are so high up in the air and surrounded by stars is what finally drives Lan Wangji to admit what he has been avoiding for a long, long time. 

Wei Wuxian is alert while flying, but the moment they land on solid earth, he starts yawning. Lan Wangji leads him to the jingshi and wipes Wei Wuxian's face with a wet washcloth. "Wei Ying," he whispers. "You need to get ready for bed. Stay awake just a little longer."

"Mrphurpgh," Wei Wuxian says, which Lan Wangji supposes is the most he'll get out of him. He must be more tired than he lets on. 

So Lan Wangji picks him up right where they stand and carries him to bed. He can only use one arm, so the position is not the most effective, but it allows Wei Wuxian's head to drop onto Lan Wangji's shoulder, where Wei Wuxian's sleepy mumblings continue, slightly muffled. 

As gently as possible, Lan Wangji sets him down on the mattress. The shock of cold bedsheets makes Wei Wuxian whine, but he settles as Lan Wangji pulls his boots off. 

With an exhale, Lan Wangji joins him in bed and pulls the covers over both of them. He finds Wei Wuxian's hair ribbon and tugs it free. "Goodnight, Wei Ying," he says, running his fingers along Wei Wuxian's scalp and listening to his content sigh.

"G'nnugh," Wei Wuxian manages, before scooting in close and pressing his face against Lan Wangji's neck. Within seconds, he's asleep. 

Lan Wangji lies awake just a moment longer, memorizing as many details as he can. The press of Wei Wuxian's body against his. The soft warmth of skin against skin. Wei Wuxian's quiet snoring. The irrefutable proof of trust in how easily and quickly Wei Wuxian fell asleep on him.

How difficult it had been to deny himself this. And how futile. 

With the briefest press of his cheek against the top of Wei Wuxian's head, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and lets sleep take him.

Even before Lan Wangji is fully awake, he knows something is wrong. 

He is in bed, as he should be, and asleep, as he should be. His coursework is complete, and nothing urgent needs to be tended to. There are no changes to his classes, except music class is still out since the instructor hasn't returned yet, which means he and Wei Wuxian—

Wei Wuxian. 

Lan Wangji jolts awake too fast, too suddenly. It sends his head spinning. In horror, he stares at his left hand. 

His completely intact, unharmed, empty left hand.

The curse is gone, and so is Wei Wuxian. 

"Wei Ying?" Lan Wangji calls, throwing aside the covers and standing up. Maybe Wei Wuxian merely got up to get some water, and Lan Wangji woke at a bad time. "Wei Ying, are you there?" 

No answer. The room is silent, devoid of another life, another breath besides Lan Wangji's. 

For a crazed, delusional second, Lan Wangji thinks he may have dreamed Wei Wuxian up. It wouldn't surprise him if he did. Wei Wuxian has always been larger than life, too much for any one person. 

But, no—Lan Wangji's left sleeve has been modified to allow for removal without passing over his hand, and Lan Wangji's shoes have been knocked over by, presumably, someone crawling out of bed who is not completely familiar with their surroundings. 

Wei Wuxian exists. And he left without a single word. He didn't even wake Lan Wangji up to let him know their curse wore off. 

Lan Wangji sinks back down on his bed. It is too early for him to go running around, calling out Wei Wuxian's name. If Wei Wuxian went back to the student dorms, then Lan Wangji has no right to go there and demand his company. If Wei Wuxian left because… because he is relieved to finally be free of Lan Wangji, then there is nothing Lan Wangji can do about it. 

He wouldn't blame Wei Wuxian for getting bored with him. After all, in Wei Wuxian's own words, Lan Wangji only knows to play the guqin, copy rules, and be boring.

When he finally decides to lie down, he does so on the edge of the bed, facing out so that he doesn't have to look at the unoccupied space beside him. 

He waits, but Wei Wuxian doesn't return, and Lan Wangji doesn't fall back asleep. 

When it's finally time to get out of bed, Lan Wangji bathes, changes into his own clothes, ties on his forehead ribbon by himself, and eats breakfast alone. It's the same routine he has always had, and the familiarity of his actions are what gets him through it without too much thought. 

He will need to go see Lan Xichen and a clan physician to make sure that the curse is well and truly resolved with no lingering side effects. Then he will have to report to Lan Qiren to document the curse and get the latest update on the Danyang case. After that, he has class, which he will attend, and he will pay attention in, because he no longer has someone distracting him at his side. 

"Where's Wei Wuxian?" Lan Xichen asks right before Lan Wangji follows a physician into the medical ward for examination. 

Lan Wangji doesn't look at him and doesn't stop to speak to him properly. Lan Xichen has always been able to read too much on his face. "I do not know." 

He walks away before Lan Xichen can ask more questions. 

It turns out that the Danyang ghosts were a pair of lovers who were hunted down and killed by their respective families for eloping. Supposedly, they died hoping that no one else would need to struggle as much as they did to be with their beloved, but their violent deaths corrupted their wish into a curse that would slowly, but surely, meld their victims' bodies together. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's golden cores along with Lan Xichen's array were enough to prevent the curse's advancement. 

With that resolved, Lan Wangji thanks the disciple in charge of the case and promises to give his documentation on the curse later for a comprehensive report. 

The sentries report that Wei Wuxian left the Cloud Recesses early in the morning and has yet to come back. "He seemed fine enough." The disciple on sentry duty frowns, deep in thought, when Lan Wangji asks. "He was in a bit of a hurry, but he said he would return soon." 

It has been three hours, and still no sign of Wei Wuxian. When class starts, his seat is empty, and Lan Wangji sits at his usual place at the front. The students whisper curiously amongst each other, and Lan Wangji hears Wei Wuxian's name on their lips multiple times. One student even goes over to Lan Wangji to congratulate him on finally being free of Wei Wuxian. 

Lan Wangji stares unblinkingly at the student until he shrinks away and sits back down. 

"Hey, Lan Wangji," Jiang Cheng asks after the midday meal. "Where's Wei Wuxian?" 

Lan Wangji looks up from his guqin. He hasn't touched it in three days, and he's doing some maintenance on it. He looks back down. "He's outside the Cloud Recesses."

"Obviously." Jiang Cheng scowls. He's always scowling. "If he were here, you would have dragged him to class with you. My question is: where outside the Cloud Recesses? And when is he going to come back?" 

Lan Wangji runs a cloth across the guqin's body. "I do not know." 

"You don't know?" Jiang Cheng crosses his arms. "He's always with you. How can you not know where he is?" 

He is starting to test Lan Wangji's patience. "As you can see," Lan Wangji replies, "Wei Ying is not with me. I do not know where he is. My answer will not change no matter how many times you ask."

Jiang Cheng takes a step back, affronted. Lan Wangji is rarely ever this rude, but he is tired. It feels like every other person he meets asks where Wei Wuxian is, and Lan Wangji doesn't know. He doesn't know. 

With a snort, Jiang Cheng turns around. "I've bothered Second Young Master Lan for too long. Have a good day." And he walks away without a second glance. 

"Wangji? Did you make purchases in Caiyi Town yesterday?" Lan Xichen asks him in the hallway after class. "We have several vendors requesting reimbursement. I just want to confirm with you."

Lan Wangji blinks. Oh. Right. He used his family's money without permission, and he failed to notify either his uncle or his brother afterwards. Of course Lan Xichen would need to confirm it. It is not like Lan Wangji at all. 

"Yes," he answers. 

Lan Xichen's gaze turns soft, and his sigh is deep. "Oh, Wangji."

Unexpectedly, Lan Wangji's throat starts to close up. He dislikes it when his brother does this, somehow reading every one of his emotions. "I apologize. I will pay for it myself."

"No, that's not what I meant." Lan Xichen pats him comfortingly on the shoulder. "You're allowed to spend it. You don't need permission to be happy, Wangji."

It takes Lan Wangji three tries to swallow the lump in his throat. "Thank you, xiong-zhang."

"Wangji-xiong!" Nie Huaisang calls, waving his sleeve. "Wangji-xiong, I have a question!"

Lan Wangji stifles a sigh and repeats the answer he has been giving the entire day. "I do not know where Wei Wuxian is or when he will be back."

Nie Huaisang visibly falters, lowering his hand. "Ah-h, well, see, I was going to ask if you think Lan-xiansheng will give us a test tomorrow…"

Oh. Lan Wangji feels foolish. "Keep up with your studies and you will not need to worry about any test."

The sound Nie Huaisang makes is of complete and utter defeat. "Oh, I'm doomed. I'm doomed," he wails. "Da-ge is going to kill me if I fail another test, and Wei-xiong isn't here to help me study!"

'Study' is not how Lan Wangji would describe the machinations Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang get up to during a test. He mutters a, "Ridiculous," and turns to leave.

"Wait, Wangji-xiong!"

Lan Wangji looks over his shoulder. 

Nie Huaisang fiddles with the tassel of his fan nervously. "Forgive me for asking, and you really do not have to answer if you do not want to, but… where did you and Wei-xiong go yesterday? Everyone wondered where the two of you went off to."

Now is not the time or place to dwell on yesterday's events. Those were experienced by him and Wei Wuxian alone; they are not for others to know about. 

"Mind your own business," he tells Nie Huaisang, before walking away. 

Since he has no more classes and doesn't have the energy to interact with anyone for the time being, Lan Wangji returns to the jingshi. The silence is suffocating, but he does not play his guqin out of fear that the wisp of a melody in his mind would make its way to his fingers and out into a room that Wei Wuxian isn't in. 

Instead, he cleans, which he needed to do anyway. His modified robe gets folded and placed among the other clothes that require washing. He takes the pillows that Wei Wuxian slept on and piles them neatly on a chair to be taken away later, now that there is no need for them anymore. 

When he moves to reorganize his ink-brushes, he spots the qiankun bag that contains souvenirs from yesterday. Wei Wuxian must have pulled it out of his sleeve and set it on the table on his way out. 

Lan Wangji could just take the bag and shove it into the box underneath his floorboards, but there are flowers in there—flowers that Wei Wuxian bought for him—and Lan Wangji is far, far too sentimental for his own good. 

With great care, Lan Wangji opens the bag and begins pulling items out. The oil-paper umbrella with its painted magnolias. The fragrant paper birds. A small figurine of a rabbit that caught Lan Wangji's eye. Wei Wuxian's paper lantern, folded up. And, with their petals slightly drooping, the flowers—still in their accompanying basket. 

Lan Wangji gets some water in a pitcher and places the flowers in it. Once they have revived a little, he will press them and turn them into bookmarks. 

He individually inspects the rest of the items, memorizing as many details about them as possible. He can vividly recall the scenarios in which each one was acquired, and how Wei Wuxian was involved in every single one of them—from his light teasing as he shoved the rabbit figurine into Lan Wangji's hand to his consideration for Lan Wangji's comfort when he picked out an umbrella.

The ache that has been in Lan Wangji's chest since that morning intensified. There is no telling how many days Wei Wuxian might have had just like the one they spent. For Wei Wuxian, it may even be a forgettable day, and here Lan Wangji is—pathetically trying to preserve everything like a child gluing back a broken vase. No matter what he does, he will never gain the original back, and he will never relive those moments again. 

Even if he has another chance, it wouldn't be anywhere near the same; he wouldn't have Wei Wuxian's hand in his, and he wouldn't be oblivious to how much he wants Wei Wuxian to stay. 

He thinks of sitting in a boat at sunset with a flower in his hair and a content Wei Wuxian by his side. 

He thinks maybe he should have kissed him then. 

It is shameful, how much he wants. Wei Wuxian is not his. Wei Wuxian is not responsible for how he feels. Lan Wangji can yearn until his soul gives out, and still Wei Wuxian wouldn't owe him anything. 

Lan Wangji arranges the souvenirs on a shelf above his books, where he can see them. When Wei Wuxian returns to the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji will apologize to him for being such poor company during their time spent cursed together. Then, he hopes, Wei Wuxian will still be willing to spend time with him.

He is right in the middle of trying to figure out where to put the umbrella when he distinctly hears someone running outside. Lan Wangji frowns. How very audacious some of the disciples are, inspired by Wei Wuxian's rowdiness to flaunt the Cloud Recesses' rules, as if they could ever—

The door to the jingshi flies open, and in leaps Wei Wuxian. "Hello, Lan Zhan! I'm back!" 

Lan Wangji drops the umbrella. 

Wei Wuxian has clearly been running for a while. His hair is windswept, he's panting, and sweat gleams on his face and neck. He shuts the door behind him with far more force than Lan Wangji has ever used on it, and gives a joyful laugh. "Lan Zhan! I got you something!"

Did he? It seems he did. There are bags and packs hanging off of Wei Wuxian's arms. Lan Wangji tries to remember how to breathe, and fails. 

Wei Wuxian bounces over to him; he's still wearing the modified robe, with its altered right sleeve. "Okay, first off, I am so, so, so sorry I forgot about this. I didn't mean to, I swear! It slipped my mind yesterday, but I promise I didn't do it intentionally, okay?"

Seeing as his brain has evidently given up on basic body functions, Lan Wangji forces himself to suck in a breath in order to ask, "What did you forget?"

Grinning, Wei Wuxian shrugs the bags off and opens one up. "Ta-da! It's loquats! Your favorite!" 

Lan Wangji stares. Indeed, those are loquats, and there are so many of them that they reach the bag's brim. 

Then Wei Wuxian opens another bag, and another, and—oh—that is a lot of loquats. "I remember your brother saying that you looked like you wanted some loquats, so I decided to buy you some the next time I saw any. Ah, but we had so much fun yesterday that I forgot! So when I woke up, I decided to go get you some. Then I realized I forgot my qiankun pouch, and then I saw this stall selling koi fish kites so of course I had to get you one." He pulls out a series of small koi kites tied to each other and proudly presents them to Lan Wangji. 

Lan Wangji takes them with shaking hands.

"I got a bunch of other things for you too!" Wei Wuxian walks over to the bed and dumps out the contents of the largest bag onto it. "There's this face cream that I traded a few talismans for that the nice jiejie said is good for dry skin. And here's an inkbrush with a little rabbit on it! Oh, and this pretty blue ribbon that reminded me of you! Ah, although," he gives a laugh that is too tense to be natural, "in hindsight, I suppose you have no shortage of blue ribbons here, in the Gusu Lan Sect, where your colors are white and… blue. Ahaha."

Lan Wangji looks at the small mountain of items on his bed. Then he looks at Wei Wuxian. Then back. And forth. "Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian's smile turns into a pout. "Aw, Lan Zhan, it's my fault, alright? I know you were most likely looking forward to getting loquats yesterday, but I genuinely forgot! How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't say something? From now on, just say it! What do you want?"

Lan Wangji feels so light that he thinks he might float out of his body. The scent of loquats permeates the air, warm and fresh and tart. "Wei Ying," he answers. 

Wei Wuxian tilts his head, alert. "Yes? What is it?"

He is here, and he remembered Lan Wangji's favorite fruit, and Lan Wangji can't find it in his heart to be the least bit exasperated.