Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian never stays in one place for long.
Over the past year he spent a few months up north, until it started getting too cold to sleep outside. Then some time in the outskirts of Lanling, where there's a higher going rate for wandering cultivators willing to pick up a night hunt or two. Then a pretty nice month wandering the Yueling coast, until he got sick of sleeping on beaches and waking up with sand in previously undiscovered crevices.
He came up to Gusu a few months ago. Settled in Caiyi because he likes the place and because he has intentionally been staying away from Yunmeng ever since the incident. Plus, Caiyi is better than freezing his ass off in Qinghe or getting stabbed by some random asshole in Qishan.
The food here largely sucks, but he is growing a tiny pepper plant in the back room he's renting at a local inn. Or, well. By renting, he means helping clean up after customers in exchange for room and board, and by room, he means a spare closet. But his pepper plant is thriving, so Wei Ying dumps homemade chili oil on his breakfast every morning and feels very self-sufficient about the whole thing.
He's sitting in the inn's main room, still nursing his one jar of wine for the night, because he can't afford a second but doesn't want to go to sleep just yet, when he overhears a nearby table gossiping about some juicy bit of news from the Cloud Recesses.
Wei Ying's ears perk up and he leans in their direction, trying to listen in on the specifics. It turns out, if the half-drunk man ranting to his rowdy friends is to be believed, Gusu Lan is trying to marry off Hanguang-Jun, their esteemed Second Jade. Everyone's going positively wild guessing who the lucky bride will be. The tipsy storyteller swears there's a princess coming from the far south. His friend has heard that Lanling is sending a whole cadre of suitors, in an attempt to overwhelm the process with sheer numbers.
Wei Ying laughs and drains his wine. He's had exactly one interaction with Lan Wangji of the Cloud Recesses, and from what he can tell the guy is a massive bitch. He hadn't even responded when Wei Ying apologized for running into him fully accidentally. Lan Wangji had just gotten to his feet, looking a bit like a cat who'd been pet the wrong way, ignored Wei Ying's offer of a hand up, and then stared imperiously until Wei Ying scrambled off for fear those golden eyes could actually stop his heart, like the local legends say.
Lan Wangji is pretty hot, though, Wei Ying has to admit. So he probably won't have any trouble finding a spouse. One of those Lanling douchebags would fit right in, gold robes matching Lan Wangji's terrifying eyes. Wei Ying tilts his head for a moment, remembering the eyes in question, then slaps his last piece of silver down on the table next to his empty bowl and hops to his feet to leave. He's gonna have to go night hunting tomorrow if he wants to afford dinner this week, and he should probably get an early start replenishing his talismans before heading out.
---
Lan Wangji is getting sick of suitors. At this point he doesn't actually care who he marries.
Well. Not a Jin.
And not that towering man from Quinghe who had come in holding what could only be described as a battleaxe* with what looked like dried blood crusted on it. Can't you clean your weapon, dear god. And absolutely not a Wen.
So perhaps he has some opinions. The bigger point is that this whole process feels so useless. There are so many better ways he could spend his time than politely sipping tea while the latest sect leader's niece or son or third-cousin-twice-removed bats their eyelashes at him and compliments his "firm gaze." (Lan Zhan hadn't glared at that turn of phrase specifically, but only because he'd been glaring since the beady-eyed Jin cousin in question first sat down. No one but his brother could ever tell the difference between his annoyed glare and his regular expression, anyway, so it's not like it mattered.)
Finally, mercifully, the Jin Cousin takes his leave and Lan Zhan is able to stand and stretch his legs for the first time in hours. This whole procedure is testing even his renowned ability to cultivate stillness.
He takes his leave of the ornate hall, hoping for a moment of solitude before he is scheduled to speak with a Sect Leader from Laoling and his eldest daughter who would, if Lan Zhan's uncle is to be believed, be a tolerably advantageous match, if not as beneficial as a Jiang or Jin.
As Lan Zhan sweeps out into the corridor that connects the ceremonial hall from his favorite (being that it is usually blissfully empty) garden, he passes a few of the visiting cultivators around his own age, apparently in the middle of a raucously entertaining conversation. Lan Zhan holds back a frown at the noise, before his brain catches up with what they're actually saying.
"Imagine sleeping with Wangji," the first boy says. A distant Jin cousin, by the looks of his robes.
"Like fucking a dead fish," a boy next to him says, laughing cruelly.
"Don't be mean," another boy in Nie blacks and grays. Nie Mingjue’s little brother, if Lan Zhan is remembering correctly, and his words should be kind but Lan Zhan is fairly sure he hears laughter in the Nie boy's voice, too.
"Maybe he'll marry another icicle and they can stare at each other in silence while they..." the Jin boy continues.
Lan Zhan hurries back the direction he came from, but can't avoid seeing the vulgar gesture the boy is making. Seeing Nie Huaisang startle as he sweeps away doesn't help, either. Lan Zhan doesn't particularly want anyone to know he'd overheard.
He's not hurt, is the thing. Lan Zhan isn't a stranger to people talking about him behind his back. He doesn't care. They'd never dare say it to his face, and that's good enough for him. But there's a reason he's sitting through these interminable meetings with an endless string of potential spouses. Gusu Lan needs to make political allies, especially with the worrying consolidation of power in the Wen Sect, and the Second Jade of Lan is the perfect candidate. An important figurehead for Gusu Lan without the political complications that come with Xichen's future role as sect leader.
Lan Wangji doesn't think a marriage would be annulled because he is insufficiently capable of his marital duties, but he's not completely certain. He doesn't want to cause political problems for his sect if his future spouse raises complaints about his performance.
"Don't you think, Lan er-gongzi?" the girl across from him asks.
"Mm," Lan Zhan replies, because he does not know what she just said. The girl smiles in response, but her mouth is tight.
That afternoon, Lan Zhan goes to his most valued - and really only - source for questions like this.
"Brother, what would happen if a spouse were... displeased with the ministrations of their husband?"
Lan Zhan had mulled over his question carefully, testing out different wording until he found what, he thought, was the perfect mix of decorum and clarity.
Lan Xichen's face looks so stricken at the question, though, that all Lan Zhan can do is mutter a harried "never mind, it’s nothing" and hurry away as quickly as decorum will allow.
He'll have to find a way to teach himself, Lan Zhan thinks with a firm mental nod. It must be like any other skill that one can practice dutifully until it is mastered.
Lan Zhan goes night hunting with some of the visiting disciples the next afternoon. For all he doesn't relish more time with his peers, he will gladly take the excuse to burn off extra energy from a day of sitting and clenching his jaw trying not to be rude to suitors.
They're several hours into the search for a nest of corpses that have been harassing a nearby village when they stop to rest and eat just outside of Caiyi. Lan Zhan is restraining himself from lecturing the group about speaking while eating - as much as the buzz of conversation is grating on his nerves, they’re not in the Cloud Recesses right now so technically breaking no rules - when the senior Lan disciple leading today’s hunt suddenly stands and turns toward the road.
There's a figure in the distance, approaching from the west, and from the look of the sword on his hip he's a cultivator as well.
"Ah, I have company tonight!" the figure says cheerfully, as he gets within earshot of the group. He's dressed nearly all in black, hair messy and clothes looking worn but well cared for. Lan Zhan doesn't recognize his sword. A rogue cultivator, then.
"State your business," Lan Jingze says, polite but firm as always.
"Same as you I presume. Out appreciating the beauty of nature. Might dispose of a few fierce corpses along the way."
The man gives a careless shrug of his shoulder, and something about him looks oddly familiar to Lan Zhan. Next to him, Nie Huaisang steps forward and asks, with a tentative flutter of his fan, "Have we met before?"
The man in black narrows his eyes before bursting into a wide grin. "Is that little Nie-xiong?"
There's a rumble of confusion from the group, and Lan Zhan feels his own face tighten at the man's rudeness, but Nie Huaisang lowers his hands and smiles widely in return.
"Wei-gongzi? What are you doing here? Ah, I mean…" Huaisang turns to the rest of the group, hiding behind his fan once again. "Everyone, this is Wei Wuxian. You may have met him before if you attended conferences in Yunmeng?"
It suddenly clicks into place where Lan Zhan has seen this man before. He’d been much younger when Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng barreled straight into him, just outside of the gates of the Cloud Recesses. It had been one of the first times Lan Zhan had been allowed the honor of welcoming a visiting retinue for diplomatic conferences. He'd had no idea how to handle the whirling ball of energy that swept the feet out from under him, then eagerly attempted to grab him by the wrist and pull him back upright.
At the time, Lan Zhan had only narrowly avoided reciting the dozen Cloud Recesses rules the young boy had broken, before realizing he did not know if official diplomatic visitors were also forbidden from running or laughing or knocking other cultivators into the dirt then acting like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
Lan Zhan schools his face into stillness and carefully does not let his eyes roam over the man in black in front of him. He's taller now, and while his face has lost some of the roundness of youth he seems to have kept the blazing smile that had been so disorienting to a twelve-year-old Lan Zhan.
Someone next to Lan Zhan coughs politely, and he realizes the group has been introducing themselves and is waiting for him to join in.
"Wait, I know you," Wei Wuxian says before Lan Zhan can collect himself and reply. "Lan Zhan! It's been a long time!"
Lan Zhan has to choke back an annoyed huff at the man's shameless familiarity. Another thing that clearly hasn't changed since he was a boy.
"Ah, my apologies," Wei Wuxian says with a distinct lilt of laughter in his voice. “I can see the Second Jade of Lan is just as upright as everyone says. Please excuse any offense, Lan er-gongzi, I'll leave you all to your hunting."
Up until now, Lan Zhan didn't know someone could bow sarcastically, but Wei Wuxian seems to be a man of many talents.
He heads off with a casual wave, away from the beaten path and into the surrounding forest like he doesn't have a care in the world about wandering through the woods alone. It takes Lan Zhan a long moment to pull himself together and rejoin his fellow cultivators as they sit back down to their food.
As he listens to the chatter grow around him again, it's clear Wei Wuxian is the new topic of choice.
"I can't believe that was him! The Yiling Rogue!" one of the younger Lans says, with something distressingly close to admiration in his voice. "I didn't know he was in Gusu!"
"I've run into him before," one of the seniors responds, which Lan Zhan finds more discomfiting than he likes to admit. "I think he's been in the area for a few months."
"He keeps swiping my hunts," Nie Xiuwei grumbles in response, but he's quickly cut off by one of the younger Jin's piping up with an excited "He's so talented. Did you all hear about the abyss he killed in Yiling all by himself?"
Lan Zhan finishes his meal quickly then readies himself to return to the hunt, pointedly ignoring the conversation behind him.
---
Wei Wuxian doesn't go very far when he leaves the group of cultivators. Why give up an eavesdropping opportunity this good? Instead, he parks himself in a nearby tree as soon as he's out of sight and pulls out half a pork bun he'd saved from dinner the night before. He laughs to himself at their conversation. It had been a water snake demon, not an abyss, and he very much had help killing it, but legends tended to spread around things like that and he had no real desire to correct people. Not when they made him sound so cool.
"The Yiling Rogue" was a new moniker though. He's heard The Demon of Yunmeng before from people less sympathetic to his story, and occasionally Brother Yiling from those in the north who were familiar with him after the year or so he spent in the area, but Yiling Rogue is new. Very dashing, Wei Ying thinks as he finishes his snack.
He wanders back down the same road to Caiyi later that night, just him and the familiar stars overhead. His money pouch jingles as he tosses it restlessly back and forth, filled for once with silver a local blacksmith gave him for the minor corpse infestation he just cleared out.
Okay, not so minor, but Wei Ying handled it just fine. Just a few cuts and bruises to show for the fight, alongside the handful of coins the blacksmith gave him in thanks. Other rogue cultivators would have demanded more, but the man had three children who’d looked loved and well fed but whose clothes were clearly more patch than original fabric at this point and... anyway, Wei Ying can always go night hunting again later this week, or pick up another shift at the inn serving booze to drunk travelers.
He idly wonders if the Lans are still out looking for the same corpse problem he just cleared out. If they'll be up all night for nothing, now that Wei Ying has flushed out the infestation on his own. Sometimes local sects get... annoyed at that. The Lans are some of the least likely to give him shit over swiping their prey, generally living up to their reputation as noble sticks-in-the-mud, but there’d been visiting disciples in the group as well. Wei Ying will keep an eye out for any pissed off gentry this week, just in case.
He's nearly home - so close he can practically feel his bed under him, taste the bottle of mediocre but effective wine he has stashed under his floorboards - when he hears an ear-shattering braying off in the distance, followed by a string of furious cursing.
Up ahead, a broad-shouldered man is screaming at a donkey that has stopped dead in the middle of the road.
Wei Ying considers ducking into the trees lining the road and avoiding the pair altogether, until he sees the man pull a whip from his belt and begin flailing away at the donkey so intensely that Wei Ying is worried he might not stop until the poor beast is dead.
He's jogging up before he stops to think about what he's doing.
"Hey, hey, I think he's had enough, yeah?"
Wei Ying realizes his mistake a split second after the man turns, arm now raised against him instead of the braying donkey.
"Who the hell are you?" the man yells, and then there's a crack of the whip. Wei Ying rips Suibian out of its sheath in a heartbeat, but he already knows he's going to be too late. He flinches away from the flying leather, but no strike comes.
"Sir."
Wei Ying slowly opens his eyes at the new, chilly voice. A familiar white figure is standing in front of him, sword drawn. The angry man's whip is lying next to him like a dead snake in the dirt.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying cries, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. And here he'd thought he was sharing the petulant donkey's punishment tonight. Instead he gets another chance to see the beautiful Second Jade of Lan up close and personal. What an eventful evening this is turning out to be.
"Are you hurt?" Lan Zhan asks, without breaking eye contact with the furious but clearly cowed donkey owner.
"Ah, I'm not the one you should be worried about," Wei Ying says before stepping past the man towards the donkey behind him. "It's this sweet baby who needs our concern."
The sweet baby in question attempts to bite Wei Ying's finger off as he reaches out to pat its head.
"You shouldn't treat your beloved donkey like this," Wei Ying says as he carefully keeps all his digits away from the animal's mouth.
"Beloved? This horrible ass?" The man growls and looks longingly at his whip where it lies on the ground, clearly too close to Lan Zhan and his still-drawn sword for the man to risk retrieving it.
"Ahh, if he's too much trouble, I can take him for you."
Wei Ying doesn't actually need a donkey. He really doesn't need a donkey, he thinks, as the donkey in question attempts to bite him again. He dodges the bite and smiles at the red-faced man. It's enough work keeping himself alive and fed. But he can't bring himself to let the man walk off with the poor animal still in his possession.
"Are you trying to steal my property?" the man asks, very angry for someone who was, quite recently, a few minutes away from his property being one very dead donkey.
"No, no!" Wei Ying says, because it's easier than arguing. "I'll pay?"
He takes the few pieces of newly earned silver out of his pouch and holds them out. The man looks at him for a long moment, eyebrows raised, before he snatches the money and huffs. "Fine. It's your problem now."
Wei Ying watches as the man tucks the silver in his own pocket, hesitates for a moment, then darts forward to grab his whip from Lan Zhan's feet before heading down the road at a quick pace. He's clearly worried Lan Zhan's going to strike him down, if not with his sword then possibly with his icy glare.
It'd be hilarious, if Wei Ying wasn't coming to terms with being the proud owner of a donkey who has just successfully bitten him on the shoulder.
"Ow," Wei Ying says.
"Hee haw," says the donkey.
Lan Zhan turns towards them both and looks mostly stone-faced, though Wei Ying thinks there might be a slight whiff of concern under that piercing stare.
"Ah ha ha," Wei Ying laughs, rubbing at the painful lump on his shoulder. "What are you doing here, Lan Zhan?"
The man's eyes flash at his name, but he doesn't say anything. Excellent. Wei Ying is wearing him down.
"I heard yelling," Lan Zhan says after a moment, by way of explanation.
"But where's the rest of your group?"
"They were... eager to keep moving."
Ah, so they weren't in a rush to find extra trouble, no matter how many yelling donkeys or distressed rogue cultivators they heard. Understandable, Wei Ying supposes, though it does raise the question of why Lan Zhan of the Cloud Recesses had been willing to waste his time coming to the rescue.
"Thank you for saving my precious new child," Wei Ying says with an overly formal bow. He has to dodge to the left halfway through to avoid another nip from the donkey in question. Lan Zhan looks at them both in what Wei Ying can only assume is confusion. Again, hilarious.
"I'll be off then," Wei Ying says, giving the donkey's reins a tug. The donkey does not move. "Ah ha ha, such a tease, this one."
Another tug, and the donkey still doesn't move. At least it's not trying to bite Wei Ying anymore. Wei Ying is starting to feel his exhaustion from the day return, though, now that the adrenaline of a near fight is wearing off. He'd really appreciate it if his precious new charge would move its, ahem, ass. He's not going to hit the animal, because Wei Ying isn't an asshole, but he's starting to suspect the donkey had not helped its own case with its old owner.
That's when Lan Zhan pulls a bright, round apple out of his own bag and holds it out in front of the animal.
The donkey moves immediately.
Wei Ying watches, fully bemused, as Lan Zhan takes up a slow pace down the road followed behind by a suddenly focused and apparently highly apple-motivated donkey.
"Oh good, now my donkey likes you more than me! How shameless. How rude," Wei Wuxian whines, taking a hop-skip to catch up with them.
Lan Zhan stops in response and shoves the apple into Wei Wuxian's hand before swiftly turning back in the direction of the former corpse infestation and presumably the other Lan night hunters.
"Ah, if you're looking for the corpses still, there's no need. I handled them all! Head home and get a good night's sleep, Lan Zhan!"
Wei Ying feels he is being very polite. He only has a bit of a shit-eating grin as he informs Lan Zhan of his impressive success. He's looking out for Lan Zhan's rest and well-being, really.
Lan Zhan stops short and glares at Wei Ying in response.
"Alone?"
"Don't you trust me? I can't believe you'd doubt my skills like this, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says.
Lan Wangji must think there's no way a lowly rogue cultivator could have handled the problem on his own. It’s an attitude Wei Wuxian has been brushing off with jokes and smirks since he was barely a teenager.
"Hm," Lan Wangji responds, and Wei Wuxian has no idea what he means by it. But the man bows again, and this time turns to follow the road back to the Cloud Recesses, so perhaps he believed Wei Ying after all.
“Okay, come on you horrible little apple fiend,” Wei Ying says and starts pulling his new charge towards Caiyi and bed. “Hey, that’s what I should call you. Horrible Little Apple. Maybe if you’re very good we can drop the horrible.”
The donkey brays again, but refrains from taking any more chunks out of Wei Ying’s body, so he thinks the night is looking up, all things considered.
---
Lan Zhan is distracted the next day. He tells himself it's because of the disruption to his schedule from night hunting. (He'd been back in the Cloud Recesses and asleep by 9 pm, as usual.) Reminds himself that it has been long weeks of meetings and lectures and endless walks through the gardens with potential marriage partners. Anyone would be feeling some level of exhaustion at this point. (The Second Jade of Lan is famously unflappable. Has always prided himself on that fact.)
After he trails off into a too-long silence in the middle of a conversation with a southern sect leader's daughter, leaving her staring at him in confusion, Lan Zhan is finally forced to admit he's been thrown off by seeing the strange boy from his childhood again.
Wei Wuxian had been off-putting and overwhelming when he was young, and he's apparently just as overwhelming now. Lan Zhan keeps flashing back to Wei Wuxian and his horrible donkey, his horrible grin when he'd casually mentioned disposing of an entire nest of corpses on his own. It’s a task big enough it should have required half a dozen cultivators to finish safely. He was lucky he got away with just a few scrapes for his trouble.
The good news is Lan Zhan is never going to see Wei Wuxian again, he thinks as he finally returns to the Jingshi that night, with its blessed silence and lack of outsiders trying to impress him.
(Lan Zhan slips an apple into his pocket the next morning, just in case.)
---
Now that Wei Ying has two mouths to feed, he really does need to go night hunting more frequently. The inn's owner has let him stable Little Apple out back with the rest of the horses, but the beast utterly refuses to eat the abundant (and free) grass that grows in the dry fields nearby, and Wei Wuxian can't bring himself to deny his new friend food until he eats the cheap stuff out of necessity. So he adds a line for oats and apples to his tragic weekly budget and, later that week, packs up supplies to hit the road looking for trouble and a nearby farmer or mayor or blacksmith willing to pay him to handle it.
It's nearing the middle of the night, and Wei Ying still has no real leads on the reports of monstrous water dwelling creatures plaguing local fishers, when he once again runs into the group of Lan cultivators and their various visiting hangers-on.
Wei Ying is torn between amusement at the perturbed look on Lan Zhan's face and happiness at seeing Nie Huaisang again. He was an odd kid, back in the day, but always a good time. They'd gotten on well, even if Wei Ying lost touch with Huaisang at the same time he lost touch with the rest of the formal cultivation world. So when Huaisang invites him to join them for a rest and a pastry, Wei Ying happily accepts the invitation.
It's... nice, getting to chat with Huaisang again, though he's apparently only gotten more flighty and weird about his fan in the intervening years. Some of the other cultivators in the group soon gather around, looking torn between starstruck and slightly terrified of Wei Ying. It's an attitude he's getting more and more used to these days.
Urban legend says Wei Wuxian murdered three people, fought his brother, then fled Lotus Pier, and has been night hunting around the country ever since as an attempt to make up for his sins. Depending on their sensibilities and thirst for the dramatic, people consider him either a delinquent who should return home to face punishment, or a justice-seeking vigilante just evil enough to be extremely cool.
(This is not true. Shortly after turning fourteen, Wei Ying accidentally broke his brother's arm, got in a screaming fight with Madam Yu that ended with her whipping him until he could barely walk, then ran away from Yunmeng in an attempt to keep Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng from having an irreparable falling out with their family on his behalf.)
"Perhaps Wei-gongzi could join us on our hunt? So he does not risk facing a dangerous monster alone this time?" Nie Huaisang asks as the hour grows late and Wei Ying has started contemplating where he should set up his own camp for the night.
It's pretty clear what he really means is "Actually, we'd rather not sleep rough tonight only to realize tomorrow you've dispatched the monster before we could even arrive," but Wei Ying has never minded company on a night hunt. Loves picking people's brains and bothering them for stories about their own hunts and travels, so he happily agrees.
It's too late to continue their search that night, so instead they spend a pleasant hour sitting around a fire, sharing stories about past exploits. It doesn't take long for an excitable looking younger Lan to start peppering Wei Ying for information about his most notorious night adventures. They've clearly all heard some deeply exaggerated stories, but Wei Ying runs with it, spinning wilder and wilder versions of his honestly usually pretty mundane hunts.
"And then it ran straight into the women's bathhouse," he says, to uproarious laughter from the group.
Most of the group, that is. Lan Wangji is looking pained as always. Wei Ying thinks he detects a downturn of displeasure in the straight line of the man's mouth. Probably scandalized by the thought of a naked human body. Wei Ying leans into his story, wanting to see if he can get more of a reaction out of the man.
"Not a stitch of clothing on them, just bubbles everywhere, and they're all screaming..." Wei Ying mimics a breathy noise, more groan than scream of terror, and the group collectively leans forward, hanging off his every word.
"So I pull it out..." He smirks. "My sword, I mean, and stab the mogwai right in the heart. I saved all their lives that day."
"Oh my god," one of the Lans murmurs, awestruck.
"Did you..." another one starts then catches himself.
The hulking Nie cultivator next to him finishes his question for him. "Did they thank you?" He gives a lascivious grin, and Wei Ying grins back and nods.
He had actually screamed and jumped to face the opposite direction, giving the women enough time to scramble to put their robes back on. They'd had a lovely tea after everyone got dressed and cleaned up the last of the dead monster, though, the women thanking Wei Ying for his help and Wei Ying happily eating as many lotus cakes as they'd give him while gossiping about local news. Mrs. Chao at the bakery down the street was marrying off her THIRD daughter this year alone! What blessings.
---
Lan Wangji listens to the stories, his heart going about a mile a minute when Wei Wuxian starts talking about naked women fawning over him. He refuses to think about why. Just attempts to clear his mind, like anything close to meditation would be possible with the cultivators around him laughing uproariously at Wei Wuxian's stories. Even his fellow Lans are smiling and urging him on. Shameless.
Except, then a thought pops into Lan Wangji's head, unbidden and unwanted at first until he stops and considers it more fully. He has a problem, and the man in front of him might have a solution. Lan Wangji carefully tucks the thought away to consider further as the stories wrap up and everyone pulls out tents and gets ready to sleep, with plans to resume their hunt in the morning.
---
They wake the next morning to a bright, cloud-free sky and the raucous chirping of birds. Even better, it only takes them a few hours after breaking camp to find the lake they are looking for, surface bubbling with demonic energy and unnatural-looking shadows darting around under the water.
They divide up and begin wading into the shallows. Wei Ying lets Suibian whistle through the air and water, slashing at monstrous carp while the sound of Lan Zhan's infamous guqin fills the air, and realizes this is perhaps the most fun he's had on a night hunt in years. (Wei Wuxian… working with the Honorable Second Stick Up His Butt of Lan and enjoying it. Who would have imagined.)
By the time they have found the cursed fishing trap that was transforming the lake’s carp into angry two-headed horrors, everyone is covered in mud and Wei Ying is laughing with the effort of keeping a particularly feisty fish in a headlock.
"Hey, it looks like you," he says once the fish has shrunk back to a somewhat manageable shape and standard number of heads. Wei Wuxian holds up the wriggling carp next to Lan Wangji and gives it a little shake as it whips around wildly.
He says it mostly because the fish is flashing gold, furious and oddly beautiful, in a way that reminds Wei Ying uncomfortably of Lan Wangji's eyes. Also a little bit because somehow Lan Wangji has come out of this fight completely free from muck, while the rest of them look like they have tried to wrestle a mudslide.
A flicker of something that is uncomfortably close to hurt crosses Lan Wangji's face (and since when did this guy start showing anything in the same neighborhood as emotion, Wei Ying wonders desperately) before Lan Wangji pulls the fish out of Wei Wuxian's hands and releases it back into the river.
"So, that was fun. Think the villagers have any gold for us for this one or..." Wei Ying says cheerfully.
"Gusu Lan does not accept payment for night hunting," Lan Wangji says, clearly reciting straight out of one of his sect's infamous rulebooks.
"Okay, but I'm not from Gusu Lan," Wei Ying says with a shrug, "and Little Apple needs food on his plate and a roof over his head."
"Your donkey needs a roof over its head?" one of the other Lans asks, as Wei Ying picks his way out of the half foot of mud he's slowly sinking into, collects the donkey in question, and starts heading back towards the fishing village.
"Children. So needy!" Wei Wuxian says cheerfully over his shoulder as the rest of the Lans struggle to free themselves as well and follow him.
---
He does end up taking money from a grateful fisherman, despite the Lans looking at him disapprovingly. Not as much as the man offers him, though, and not even because the weight of Lan Wangji's stare on his back makes him feel weirdly guilty as he takes a third of the offered silver and tucks the rest back in the man's pocket when he's not looking.
It's just that these folks are so nice, the fisherman's wife loading up his bag with fresh-cooked dumplings and his five daughters giggling as Wei Ying flirts outrageously with them, the youngest blushing and hiding behind her mother's skirts when Wei Ying says she has the prettiest ribbons he's ever seen in her two tiny braids.
Wei Ying parts ways with the Lans a short while later, when the road forks towards the Cloud Recesses on one side and the bustling lights of Caiyi on the other. He assumes he is alone again, just Little Apple's smelly but already familiar presence for company, until a few moments later he realizes there are quiet footsteps in his wake.
He turns, worried he has stumbled into the path of bandits just moments after leaving the security of other cultivators, only to see a familiar flash of white and blue and inhumanly upright posture.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying says, confused. "Are you here to take the silver back? Because I wouldn't have taken it, but some of us have donkeys to feed, you know."
And selves to feed, Wei Ying thinks, a little bitterly. Not everyone has the resources of an ancient and powerful sect to keep their bellies full. Not anymore.
"Wei Wuxian is not of Gusu Lan," Lan Zhan says by way of answer, and Wei Ying relaxes slightly. He still isn’t sure why Lan Zhan has followed him in the first place, though.
"May I... accompany you?" Lan Zhan finally spits out after Wei Ying stares at him curiously for what feels like several full, silent minutes.
"Uh, sure?" Wei Ying answers. He's still confused, but the Second Jade of Lan isn't going to shank him and leave him for dead halfway to Caiyi. Probably.
When Lan Zhan pulls an apple out of his pocket and feeds it to Little Apple, Wei Wuxian beams at him, almost not believing his own eyes. It must just be Lan Zhan's afternoon snack - there's no way he's been carrying around an apple on the off chance he ran into Wei Ying's disagreeable donkey again - but it's still surprisingly nice of the man.
They talk, and it's clear Lan Zhan has something he's building up to, but he can't bring himself to say it just yet. Wei Ying is dying with curiosity, but also oddly enjoying the conversation. He's not used to having someone to walk home with at night. Even Little Apple has been a welcome diversion from his usual habit of talking to himself and the open sky. An actual human who responds with words - even if about two thirds of those words are a soft "mn" of acknowledgement or interest or disagreement - is novel. Wei Ying finds he likes it a lot.
Also, from what words Lan Zhan does share, it's clear the man is a really, really good cultivator. Most of Wei Ying's knowledge is self taught - old wives’ tales and hard-fought experience layered on top of the few years of real instruction he got before leaving Yunmeng. Lan Zhan has been classically educated and it shows, but beyond that he's also just. Clever. Clever in a way, if Wei Ying lets himself indulge in ego for a moment, most other cultivators aren't.
They talk through a recent night hunt Wei Ying has gone on, where he'd used a combination of practical traps and spiritual arrays on a fierce corpse running wild through a desperate farmer's rice fields, slowing it long enough to trap and cleanse it of demonic energy. Lan Zhan doesn't ask why Wei Ying had bothered with something so mundane as the practical traps, just hms before saying he'd chosen the arrays smartly (a compliment? Wei Ying thinks with a heady rush, from Mr. Icy Glare himself?) then thoughtfully suggesting a few alternative options he could try next time.
They're debating if switching the radical sun for fire would work better on the revised light talismans Wei Ying has been fiddling with lately, or if it would just cause the user to burn their own fingerprints off, when they reach the front steps of the inn Wei Wuxian is staying at. He looks up, surprised, then over at Lan Zhan.
"Oh, uh. This is me? This is my..." he waves vaguely. "Where I'm staying."
"Oh," Lan Zhan says back, and looks oddly disappointed for all his face hasn't really moved much.
"Want to come in for a drink?" Wei Ying asks, impulsively. He doesn't expect Lan Zhan to take him up on it. Surely the man has important sect business to do. Robes to keep impossibly clean and the like. But Lan Zhan nods his head and then is ducking into the shittiest inn in Caiyi, like it isn't an affront to his entire, supernaturally-beautiful aura.
They sit at a tiny table in the corner of the main room and continue their conversation. Wei Ying is having such a good time that he splurges on a jar of wine for them before discovering Lan Zhan doesn't drink, which, damn. He makes fun of him, but this time there's no real fire behind his words, and soon they're back at their earlier conversation. Wei Ying sketches out his point about the brushstrokes in light with a finger on the tabletop, and Lan Zhan watches intently, as though there were actual writing in front of him.
They lapse into a friendly silence, eventually, Wei Ying finishing his wine and Lan Zhan taking too-elegant sips of his tea. Wei Ying suddenly remembers that Lan Zhan had clearly been itching to ask him something at the start of all this, and unless he was desperate for Wei Ying's opinion on the best type of polish for one's sword, he hasn't gotten around to mentioning it yet.
"So," Wei Ying says, leaning forward, getting as far into Lan Zhan's space as the table between them will allow. "Why did you come find me today. Something on Lan er-gonzi’s mind?"
Wei Ying is expecting Lan Zhan to look annoyed or angry. What he isn't expecting is the sudden blush that blooms over the man's face. Wei Ying would have bet good money that Lan Zhan wasn’t physically capable of such a thing. It's a good thing he banned himself from gambling years ago.
"It is..." Lan Zhan starts, then pauses. Wei Ying inches even closer, dying to know what has even the Second Jade of Lan stumbling over his words.
"The conversation would be better suited for a... private location."
Wei Ying blinks.
"I've got a room here?" he says. Lan Zhan nods.
"That would be sufficient."
Wei Ying leads him back to his room, hastily kicking some wayward notes and an empty bottle of liquor under his bed as they enter. He momentarily debates feeling ashamed of the tiny quarters, then decides fuck him, if he cares how small my room is and instead flops lazily on his bed.
Lan Zhan doesn't seem to have noticed the simplicity of the room he's standing in. He's too busy looking determinately at the talismans on Wei Ying’s tiny desk, spread out in a semi-coherent order next to the equally tiny chili plant.
"I have... a request for you," Lan Zhan says, finally, and Wei Ying is increasingly worried the man is going to ask him to kill someone on commission. For all they've had about one and three-quarters conversations in his lifetime, Wei Ying has never heard Lan Zhan sound this tentative before. It's an unsettling contrast to his stoic face and straight posture.
"I am unsure if you have heard, but I am to be married soon.”
"Oh yeah, congrats on that!" Wei Ying cuts in before he can stop himself. Lan Zhan nods in thanks, but doesn't say anything in response. He doesn't look overwhelmed with joy at the prospect, but what does Wei Ying know.
"I do not like to be unprepared for new situations," Lan Zhan continues, something Wei Ying does not find surprising at all from what little he knows of him. "I do not wish to leave my future spouse... dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge. I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."
Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.
"Do you mean workbooks? Essays?" Wei Ying finds himself asking before his brain can catch up with his mouth. "Or were you thinking more hands-on application."
"The latter," Lan Zhan says, still staring intently at the chili plant.
"Oh," Wei Wuxian says, and finds himself at an extremely rare loss of words.
Lan Zhan looks up, and Wei Ying is starting to wonder why he ever thought this guy was emotionless because his eyes have clearly gone wide with embarrassment now. "I see this was ill-thought out. Please ignore the request."
Wei Ying grabs him by the wrist before he can sweep out of the tiny room. His hand is burning up along with the rest of him, but he realizes he doesn't want to lose this sudden and fully-unexpected opportunity.
"You've come to the right place, then!" Wei Ying announces cheerfully, shoving his panic and horny confusion down to the bottom of his stomach.
"You're willing to teach me?" Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying has to dig his nails into his own palm to keep the cheerful smile on his face.
"Absolutely. Look no further for the mentor you need."
Wei Ying is not the mentor he needs.
At least, not if Lan Zhan is looking for someone to teach him who has, say, actually had sex before. Or kissed more than three (3) people in his entire life. But Wei Ying's brain is starting to catch up to his mouth, and he's finding they are in complete agreement. The scorchingly hot, surprisingly clever, possibly not as huge a stick-in-the-mud as previously assumed Second Jade of Lan has just offered up the opportunity to teach him the ways of love-making and all of Wei Ying is, he's realizing, fully on board with this plan.
"On the matter of compensation..." Lan Zhan says.
"No money," Wei Ying says firmly, mouth moving before his brain once again.
He realizes, as he thinks about it in Lan Zhan's surprised silence that follows, that he doesn't think he'd mind getting paid for this if it was someone else. Seems as good a way as any to keep a roof over his head. But... he looks at Lan Zhan again. At his sharp eyes and the long line of his nose and the way his hair flows like a river down his back. He'd be getting too much out of it himself to feel okay taking the man's money too. He already feels guilt welling up in his stomach at the mild deception he's pulling here.
But Wei Wuxian has always been good at picking up new skills quickly. Good with physicality and movement and coordination. Surely it can't be that hard to teach someone how to, uh. Tend to their future spouse proficiently.
And in the meantime he is, at minimum, gonna get to make out with the Second Jade of Lan's disturbingly perfect face. That's worth the risk, in Wei Ying's humble opinion.
"You don't want to be paid..." Lan Zhan starts, looking confused.
"Not money. Something else," Wei Ying interrupts again, realizing his mistake. If he isn't getting compensated, then why the hell is he doing this? He can't let Lan Zhan grok the desperate boner he got the second the man brought up this proposition. "You teach me cultivation."
Lan Zhan looks even more confused now. "But you are already an excellent cultivator."
Wei Ying feels himself blush at the compliment, but pushes forward. "Yeah, but I'm missing a lot of the basics still. Not so good at school..." he says by way of explanation, because he doesn't want to get into the real reason. "You give me private lessons, and I'll give you private lessons."
Wei Ying ends his proposal with a wink, which Lan Zhan ignores in favor of looking contemplative.
"Also you buy me one jar of Emperor's Smile a week?" Wei Ying adds in, hoping it'll count as enough monetary compensation that Lan Zhan will stop asking questions. He can live with being bought alcohol, even if he doesn't want Lan Zhan's money.
Lan Zhan's mouth curls slightly in displeasure, and Wei Ying worries he has miscalculated again, but then the man is bowing slightly and says, “Agreed."
Wei Ying feels his heart thump in his chest. He'd been smirking and laughing his way through the negotiations, but he realizes now some part of him had been expecting Lan Zhan to say he was kidding at any moment. Like this man, perfect robes and achingly upright posture, has ever kidded in his life. Suddenly Wei Ying is very aware of just how small his broom closet of a room is. Lan Zhan is right there. Lan Zhan's too-red lips are right there.
"Shall we start tomorrow?" Lan Zhan asks, and Wei Ying lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Yeah. Yeah that's perfect." That'll give him time to prepare. Maybe take a bath. Comb his hair properly for once. Jump off a cliff real quick if he decides this is actually a huge mistake. Normal things.
Lan Zhan stands. He looks serious and unfazed by the whole thing, but then Wei Ying catches his eyes and thinks he sees a hint of nerves mirrored back at him. Somehow, it calms him down, to think they might be in the same boat here. Even if Lan Zhan can't know that his… sex mentor is also wildly unsure what he's doing.
"Meet me after dinner?" Wei Ying asks. Lan Zhan had mentioned his clan's freakishly early curfew during their walk to Caiyi, but that should give them enough time before he needs to head back to the Cloud Recesses. "Uh, take this. So you can come through the back, if you want."
Wei Ying digs through the messy drawers near his bed until he finds an extra key to the inn's back entrance, then hands it to Lan Zhan. He'd made a copy for himself, in case he ever lost his first one, and what the owners don't know won't hurt them.
"Thank you, Wei Wuxian," Lan Zhan says with another perfect bow, then he turns and sweeps out of the room, leaving a thoroughly bemused Wei Ying sitting on his bed, wondering what the hell he's just gotten himself into.
---
Lan Zhan has barely finished his last bite of rice at that evening's meal when his uncle clears his throat meaningfully at the same time his brother turns towards him, an annoyingly kind look in his eyes.
"Wangji, how are you feeling these days?"
Lan Zhan blinks, and his uncle gives another, louder cough. Lan Xichen doesn't look away though, letting the silence after his question sit despite their uncle's prompting.
"I am well," Lan Zhan finally replies. He can feel Uncle's eyes on him still, and he fights against the urge to duck his head.
"I know the matchmaking process is difficult," his brother says, still so softly that it makes Lan Zhan want to stand up and leave the room. "If there is anything I can do to help..."
"You know how important this match will be for the sect," Uncle cuts in, and it must have been on his mind for some time for him to interrupt Xichen like this. "If there is anything holding you back from the process. Anything that might prevent a judicious match..."
Ah, Lan Zhan thinks, things finally clicking into place for him. They are worried he isn't going to be able to uphold his side of a future marriage. Lan Zhan nods seriously at his brother, then his uncle. "I will be more diligent."
He has a plan in place, after all, to make himself an acceptable spouse to whoever he ends up betrothed to. Uncle looks satisfied at the response, but his brother's face is still furrowed with familiar worry. They finish their post-meal tea in silence, though, and as Lan Zhan returns to his rooms that night he stiffens his resolve to be a star pupil for Wei Wuxian. He will be a dedicated and successful spouse.
Speaking of Wei Wuxian... Lan Zhan lies in bed that night, mind racing uncharacteristically, and finds he is unable to force himself to sleep as he thinks about his upcoming lessons. Usually, on the rare nights sleep doesn't come immediately and naturally at 9pm, he would spend an hour or two playing guqin and meditating on what he has learned that day. But meditating on the events of today has left him with his pulse racing and an alarming heat in his belly.
It's the excitement of getting to learn a new skill, he tells himself, hours after he should have been asleep. Preparing in advance for new lessons is the sign of a dutiful student, he tries to convince his brain, as he takes himself in hand and lets himself find his pleasure to the memory of Wei Ying biting his lip and saying "Meet me after dinner?" Mercifully, he falls asleep quickly after that. He does not dream that night.
---
Wei Ying stays in bed until noon the next day.
Eventually, when he can no longer pretend he's still asleep, he drags himself up to feed Little Apple and bathe in the pond he's found tucked away just outside the border of Caiyi. It has cool, clear water, little in the way of foot traffic, and is cheaper than paying for hot water back at the inn. After spending too long soaking in the dappled sunlight on the water, he finally heads back and sits in his room, brain racing as he tries to figure out how to make the hours between now and dinnertime pass. Wei Ying hasn't felt this way since he was a child, waiting for a festival day to arrive in Lotus Pier. Teaching Lan Wangji of the Cloud Recesses how to make out isn't a fried tangyuan on the winter solstice, Wei Ying reminds himself, but it doesn't do much to stop his leg from bouncing in anticipation.
He ends up taking on an extra shift covering the late lunchtime traffic in the inn's front room, mostly to stop himself from accidentally picking the threads of his mattress fully apart. That means he's wiping down empty bowls when he sees a familiar white figure come in through the front entrance.
"Hey! Hey!" Wei Ying says, hastily putting away the damp cloth he's holding and darting out to take Lan Zhan by the elbow. "I thought I said to come in through the back?"
"I came this way yesterday?" Lan Zhan asks. His eyes dart towards the bar, where the innkeeper's husband has been left to manage the few remaining patrons. Lan Zhan looks annoyed for some reason, and Wei Ying hopes he hasn't already gotten this off to a bad start.
"It's fine!" he croons, but gives Lan Zhan a forceful tug by his arm towards the back rooms, "but people can see you out here! Don't get careless, Er-gongzi."
Wei Ying can't believe the man just walked off the street into the seedy inn Wei Ying calls home. Where anyone could see him! They'd done the exact same thing the night before, of course, but that had been before their arrangement! And Wei Ying isn't the one with a reputation to uphold. Lan Zhan really should be more cautious about being publicly associated with the notorious rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian.
Wei Ying tugs a still annoyed Lan Zhan into his room and shuts the door behind him, then turns and smiles brightly, hoping to save the mood at least a little bit. No good practicing kissing with a sour disposition. He also lets himself finally take a good look at Lan Zhan, now that they're alone. The man has shown up looking, as always, perfectly pressed and beautiful. Untouchable.
Wei Ying decides the goals of his first lesson are:
1. Kissing.
2. Mess Lan Zhan up, at least a little bit.
He doesn't tell Lan Zhan about goal number two. Students don't need the full rundown of their teacher's pedagogy, after all.
"So!" Wei Ying says cheerfully, clapping his hands together when it becomes clear Lan Zhan isn't going to be the first to speak. "Lesson time! Let's start with the basics. How much do you know about kissing?"
Lan Zhan opens his mouth, but then shuts it again without speaking. Wei Ying wonders why he is so committed to fucking this up before it even starts. Perhaps one day he will learn not to speak without thinking.
"Nevermind! Nevermind! Practical demonstrations are a better place to start. What was I thinking."
Wei Ying grabs at Lan Zhan's sleeve and pulls him to sit down on his bed, trying not to react when Lan Zhan's eyes go wide.
"Here, let's just..." Wei Ying sits down next to Lan Zhan, letting himself inch just close enough that his side is brushing up against the clean, soft white silks of Lan Zhan’s robes. He reaches over, slowly and as carefully as he can, and brushes a thumb over Lan Zhan's cheek. If this is Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan's first kiss - and Wei Ying suspects it is - it should probably be a good one.
"Ready?" Wei Ying asks, more quietly than comes naturally, like he is trying to avoid spooking a particularly timid rabbit.
"Of course," Lan Zhan says. His voice is firm, because he is not a small rabbit, after all. He is an exceptional young talent, renowned and feared throughout the cultivation world for his strength of character. And Wei Ying is gonna make out with his face.
"Here goes," Wei Ying says, mostly to himself, then leans forward and catches Lan Zhan's mouth with his own.
Wei Ying isn't sure why he expected Lan Zhan's lips to be cold. Or, well. His whole disposition radiates the sort of self containment that reminds one of an icy pool, waters still, dark, and deep. But the mouth beneath Wei Ying's is warm to the touch, soft, and apparently able to turn him into a poet with a single touch.
Because this is... nice. Better than nice. They're barely even moving, but Wei Ying wants to sink into the man. Has to firmly remind himself to take this slow. This is a learning opportunity, not a drunken fumble with some random cultivator in the middle of a night hunt.
Wei Ying has done this part before. Not often, but he'd shared a fun handful of kisses with the visiting daughter of a local nobleman back when he was still living in Lotus Pier. They'd bumped noses for a few awkward minutes before darting out of the archery equipment shed they'd hidden in, giggling wildly as the adults supervising the day's activities had called for their missing charges.
Wei Ying had gotten a bit farther after leaving Yunmeng, once spending a pleasant half hour or so with his tongue down the throat of a fellow rogue cultivator he met at a seedy roadside inn outside of Moling, before both boys went their separate ways. He’d even once gotten satisfyingly handsy with an elk hunter while travelling across Qinghe. She'd dragged him into her tent when they got caught in a snowstorm and it became clear Wei Ying hadn't prepared well enough for the cold. It had been a fun few hours. Neither of them were particularly interested in anything beyond a bit of hand stuff, wouldn't have gone further even if they'd been willing to undress enough to do so. But it had been a nice way to share body heat and forget the howling wind and the cold leeching in through every crack in the tent.
Which is to say, Wei Ying suspects he has a bit more experience than Lan Zhan, but not by much. They're doing a pretty good job of improvising, though, if he does say so himself. After a few chaste moments of contact, Wei Ying darts out his tongue, runs it across the rim of Lan Zhan's lips. Lan Zhan sucks in a breath in response, lets his mouth fall open in permission, and Wei Ying sinks in further.
He loses track of time like that, exploring Lan Zhan's mouth, letting him tentatively explore back. He carefully corrects course when they bump noses a bit too hard, sucks in a gasp when Lan Zhan snakes a hand behind Wei Ying's head and pulls him in closer. Prodigies, Wei Ying thinks with exasperation as he shivers under the firm hold Lan Zhan has on the nape of his neck.
Wei Ying pulls back when he can feel them both starting to gasp for air, runs a thumb across Lan Zhan's flushed mouth and hushes, "Easy. Breathe." and then they are back at it.
"Lesson one complete," Wei Ying says finally, forcing himself to separate when he can hear the crowds of nighttime revelers getting louder beyond the confines of his room. It must be getting late. "As expected, Lan Zhan is a star pupil."
Lan Zhan blinks at him (adorable Wei Ying croons internally, and just barely stops himself from bopping the man on his beautiful little nose) then reaches down to straighten out his robes. A few strands of hair have come loose from his normally impeccable topknot, and Wei Ying gleefully checks item number two off his lesson plan for the day.
"Thank you for your tutelage," Lan Zhan says with a polite bow, once they've both gotten up from the bed and rearranged their mussed clothing.
Wei Ying has to bodily hold back a laugh. For all he loves getting a reaction out of Lan Zhan, he doesn't think it's the time to laugh at the man's too-stoic expression. It takes a monumental amount of self-control though. Wei Ying mentally pats himself on the back for being such a considerate teacher.
"If you are available, I will return in four days for a cultivation lesson," Lan Zhan continues, and Wei Ying's mirth turns to excitement. It's been years since he's had anything close to formal lessons, and for all he used to bristle at sitting in a classroom, lately he's been thinking fondly of the vast resources his few precious years in Yunmeng had afforded him.
"Have your sword with you," Lan Zhan finishes, and ooh they're going to have practical lessons. Even better, Wei Ying thinks with glee.
Notes:
Listen. There's gonna be. Just a whole lot of banging in this fic. Too much to tag everything. Everything is at least 10 degrees less wild than what's actually in the MDZS novel, but if you want to know if there's anything particular in here feel free to comment and ask.
Next chapter coming Thursday! It's all written, just needs a final edit/bit of html wrangling.
Chapter Text
The first lesson had been... interesting, Lan Zhan thinks as he leaves the inn, through the back entrance this time per Wei Ying’s preference, and heads towards a shop down the street that sells high-end alcohol. The alcohol-buying experience is new to Lan Zhan, but surely it can't be difficult to purchase a bottle of Emperor's Smile. Judging by the increasingly rowdy crowds in the streets of Caiyi, the townspeople manage to do it all the time.
Lan Zhan had meant to see if he could purchase a bottle of the requested drink at the inn before meeting for their lesson. But, annoyingly for Lan Zhan's well-crafted plan, Wei Ying had hurried him away from the front room so quickly he hadn't had the chance. He'll bring the bottle when they meet again later this week, for Lan Zhan's side of the tutelage. The sword drills he has planned don't particularly mix well with alcohol, but he can wait until after the lesson to give it to Wei Ying.
He'll have to find somewhere to practice where they're unlikely to be interrupted, though. It's clear Wei Ying doesn't want people to see them together. Lan Zhan ignores the tightness in his chest at that thought. Wei Ying has a reputation he must want to uphold, after all, and perhaps he would lose night hunting opportunities, if people associated him with the cold and distant Lan Wangji of the Cloud Recesses.
At the end of the week, Lan Zhan returns to Caiyi. This time he meets Wei Ying at the edge of town, and instead of heading towards the tiny inn he leads the way to an abandoned field a few miles outside Caiyi’s borders. It will be enough space for the swordsmanship drills he has in mind, and they should not be seen by anyone here, since the nearby farmhouses have all been abandoned for years.
They run through drills for hours. Lan Zhan is even more impressed with Wei Ying's skill than he'd been during their previous night hunt, though he can tell Wei Ying wasn't lying about having little formal training. He'll move brilliantly, hands quick and deft, and then not know a simple parry that most cultivators have mastered by the time they hit sixteen. In some ways, it's made Wei Ying an even better fighter. He's inventive, his movements unexpected in ways that more than once leave Lan Zhan struggling to react quickly enough, something he hasn't done in a long time. Not since he was regularly practicing with his uncle, who never went easy on Wangji or Xichen, even when they were children.
Lan Zhan also finds himself struggling not to get... distracted. Wei Ying has a tendency to let his mouth fall open as he fights, lips a soft ring of exertion as he dances around Lan Zhan's blows.
I've kissed that mouth, Lan Zhan thinks, my tongue has been in that mouth, and he nearly takes a slash to the arm before he can collect himself and dodge away.
Wei Ying lights up the air with laughter at that, stepping back himself and letting Suibian fall casually to his side.
"Almost got you there, Lan Zhan. Getting tired?"
"Perhaps a rest would be advisable," Lan Zhan says. He's anything but tired, actually, blood pumping furiously as he fights to keep from flushing. He's never had to worry about that before. He hopes marriage doesn't leave him fighting for control like this for the rest of his life.
Wei Ying flops down under a nearby apple tree, grabs a stray fruit from the ground, inspects it briefly, then gives it a quick wipe on his clothes before taking a bite. There is juice running down Wei Ying's chin. Lan Zhan sits as well, fanning his robes behind himself carefully, and tries not to stare.
"So tell me about those core exercises you mentioned?" Wei Ying asks. The excuse to think about something other than the bob of Wei Ying's throat as he eats feels like a gift.
They talk through standard cultivation drills, the ones most disciples learn as part and parcel of sect training, but Wei Ying only has a spotty recollection of. Then they talk through the ridiculous ideas Wei Ying comes up with seemingly on a whim to improve those drills. Then they more seriously discuss those ideas, Lan Zhan's brain suddenly going into overdrive because, actually, some of Wei Ying's proposals aren't that ridiculous after all, and if he tweaked them a bit and ran the current crop of juniors through a revised...
Lan Zhan is startled out of his train of thought when a solid weight lands in his lap. He looks down to see Wei Ying staring up at him.
"Ayah, I'm thirsty, Lan Zhan," he whines. "Do you have anything to drink?"
Lan Zhan suppresses a smile as he reaches into his qiankun bag and pulls out the bottle of Emperor's Smile he'd purchased last night from a clearly surprised but deferential salesman.
Wei Ying looks shocked at first, too, like he hadn't expected Lan Zhan to fulfill that part of the bargain. Lan Zhan is ready to take offense when Wei Ying snatches the jar and pulls the stopper out with his teeth. He downs half of it in one pull, Adam's apple bobbing on the long line of his exposed neck, and Lan Zhan finds himself distracted again. He has a perfect view here, with Wei Ying's head still in his lap, a few stray drops of wine spilling down his lips and onto Lan Zhan's robes.
"Oh god, that's so much better than the swill I usually drink," Wei Ying says, wiping a stray drop from his mouth. Lan Zhan has to force himself to stop staring. "Ah, but how rude of me. Do you want some, Lan Zhan?"
"No," Lan Zhan replies, thankfully sounding mostly normal.
"Oh, right. Yes,” Wei Ying says. “I forgot. You don’t drink.”
He looks so sad about it Lan Zhan almost breaks the precept right then and there. But then Wei Ying is pushing himself out of Lan Zhan's lap and scooting over to sit next to him, close enough his shoulder is pressed firmly against Lan Zhan's side.
"More for me, then! I can bring you some tea next time, maybe. Do you have a favorite?"
Wei Ying starts chattering away again, so brightly that Lan Zhan can't seem to tear his eyes away from him. From the animated way he talks with his hands and his whole body.
Wei Ying probes further about Lan Zhan's favorite tea. (Jasmine. And he's never thought that hard about it, but he supposes the delicate buds from the southern coast, specifically.) Lan Zhan's favorite foods. (Steamed tofu, which Wei Ying makes a face at.) Lan Zhan's musical skills. (His talent at the guqin is well known around Gusu, but he has also practiced xiao and dizi, though he finds they come less naturally to him.)
"I don't believe it," Wei Ying says at that. Lan Zhan suspects he is being teased, though he's never been that skilled at knowing the difference. "Surely everything comes easily to the genius Second Jade of Lan. You were such a natural at kissing, even."
Lan Zhan tries to control his reaction, but Wei Ying clearly feels him go tense against his shoulder, because he looks over inquisitively. Lan Zhan's eyes dip to Wei Ying's lips again, fully against his will, and he's briefly horrified by his lack of self control. Then Wei Ying is laughing and moving in closer, and suddenly Lan Zhan isn't thinking about much of anything. He closes the distance, wrapping a hand around the back of Wei Ying's neck to hold him close as he puts his newly acquired skills to work.
Lan Zhan cannot believe he is kissing someone in the middle of an empty field outside Caiyi. He can't bring himself to think about it beyond a low hum of intrigue at his own shamelessness, though, too busy overheating as Wei Ying bites at his lip, explores his mouth comprehensively.
Then suddenly the kissing stops. Lan Zhan makes a disgruntled noise, before a second later Wei Ying's mouth is hot on his neck and. Oh. He hadn't thought about that possibility. Why hadn't he thought of that possibility. What were necks for, if not letting Wei Ying bite at them, mouth hot, leaving Lan Zhan trembling under him.
---
Wei Ying cannot believe he is allowed to do this. Lan Wangji, Second Young Master of Lan, is currently extending his neck under Wei Ying's mouth, skin smooth and perfect, small huffs of breath coming from his perfect throat.
He bites at the juncture of Lan Zhan's throat and collarbone, wanting to leave a mark somehow. Some record that he was there. He pulls back to look at the bloom of red where his mouth has just been, then laughs as Lan Zhan makes a tragic whine and grabs for his arm. Wei Ying goes willingly, letting himself be pulled back to Lan Zhan, taking his face in his hands before he returns to kissing his mouth. He could do this for hours, he thinks, as Lan Zhan wraps his hand around his neck again, grip tight on the nape of his hair. Lan Zhan really is a genius at picking up new skills.
Wei Ying pushes himself forward, trying to close the remaining distance between them, until he finally huffs in annoyance and just slings a leg over Lan Zhan, straddling his lap and pulling them both chest to chest. Lan Zhan goes still at that, a deer caught in the glow of a light talisman under Wei Ying's hands, and then slowly lifts his hips up to meet Wei Ying's. And oh, isn't that interesting.
Wei Ying sucks Lan Zhan's lower lip into his mouth, lets a hand trail down the man's chest, lower, lower, until he can press down gently on his lap. He can feel the outline of Lan Zhan's cock, clearly half-hard already, and Wei Ying hadn't meant to move on to this part of their lessons so quickly, but the pleased gasp Lan Zhan gives at the pressure spurs him into further action.
"Is this…"
"Mn," Lan Zhan says in assent, and then Wei Ying is fumbling at his robes. He doesn't bother to pull them off, can't justify the time it would take even if, in the very far reaches of his mind, he didn't remember they are out in the open air. Instead, he finds a tie, pulls it just enough to snake his hand inside past several infuriating layers of fabric until he can feel skin and heat, wraps his fingers around Lan Zhan's length, and gives a tentative stroke.
Lan Zhan writhes under him, and Wei Ying feels like maybe they're both geniuses at this sex thing.
He feels like less of a genius after Lan Zhan has come under his hand, and Wei Ying has, horrifyingly, messed up his own robes rubbing off against Lan Zhan's thigh as they made out sloppily, their swords abandoned next to them.
"I, uh... we could clean off in the pond, maybe?" Wei Ying suggests, plucking at his own uncomfortably sticky robes.
Lan Zhan looks down as well, then up at the sun, which is rapidly falling in the west.
"I should... return home," he says, looking annoyed at the prospect.
"Here, if you..." Wei Ying says, then reaches out and hastily rearranges Lan Zhan's clothes, hiding the worst of the mess under the still-clean outer layers. "That should be enough until you can change, I think."
"...Thank you," Lan Zhan says, and pulls Wei Ying in for one final, chaste kiss when he tries to shrug off the gratitude. "I am free again two days from now. Shall I come to you?"
"Oh, uh. Yes," Wei Ying says, and smiles at the serious nod Lan Zhan gives in return. "I want to hear more about those forms you told me about, too!"
Lan Zhan nods again, then pushes himself to his feet and begins gathering up his belongings. Wei Ying waits until he has disappeared down the road to the Cloud Recesses to strip out of his own soiled robes and dive into the nearby pond. If nothing else, the cold water will do him good tonight.
---
Lan Zhan returns on Monday with an armful of books.
Wei Ying is pretty sure the Gusu library doesn't have a lending program, but when he asks about it Lan Zhan carefully doesn't meet his eyes and says something about it not technically being against the rules, as long as they are returned. Wei Ying is going to needle him more — he's discovering, lately, that needling Lan Zhan is one of his favorite new hobbies — but then Lan Zhan is carefully setting the books on Wei Ying's desk and turning toward him with a look in his eyes that steals the words from his mouth.
"Did you, uh, want to study?" Wei Ying finally chokes out.
"Mn," Lan Zhan says. He reaches out and takes Wei Ying by the wrist. "First, your turn."
"My turn?" Wei Ying asks. Lan Zhan's fingers are on his wrist still, delicate but shockingly strong.
"Mn," Lan Zhan says again in assent, then he is moving toward Wei Ying, kneeling over him and reaching for his thigh, and Wei Ying has to gulp back a yelp.
"You really don't need to…"
"I wasn't able to last time. I need to learn," Lan Zhan says seriously, all the while working at Wei Ying's clothes, pushing fabric aside carefully. He stops when only Wei Ying's trousers remain, looking up at him with what Wei Ying could swear is nervousness, if Lan Wangji of Gusu were the type of person to ever look nervous.
"May I?"
His voice is quiet but firm, and Wei Ying suspects he'd agree to just about anything Lan Zhan asked him right now.
"Yeah, okay," Wei Ying answers. Then Lan Zhan's hand is working its way down his stomach, reaching between his legs. And either Lan Zhan is a savant in this, too, or Wei Ying is way more on edge than he'd have anticipated, because the feeling of Lan Zhan's long fingers wrapping around him nearly sends him over the edge. Wei Ying tries to regulate his breathing, closes his eyes to regain a bit of control.
"Is this..."
"Yeah, it's great..." Wei Ying chokes out. "Uh, actually..."
His brain screams at him to keep that pressure on his dick, no matter what, but Lan Zhan is here to learn, after all. So Wei Ying pulls Lan Zhan’s wrist out of his robes and up to his mouth, then spits into his palm.
And, oh my god, did he just spit on the Second Jade of Lan?
Lan Zhan looks inquisitively down at his own hand, but before Wei Ying can run from the room in mortification he has reached back towards Wei Ying's lap, wrapped a now wet palm around his dick and, yeah. That's better. The slightly uncomfortable friction of earlier morphing into a pleasurable slide of skin on skin.
Wei Ying struggles to keep himself from groaning at the tight grip of Lan Zhan's fingers. He starts mentally running through the sword drills they'd done the last time they were together, anything to keep himself from falling apart embarrassingly quickly. Possibly he takes it too far, though, because suddenly Lan Zhan's hand stops. Wei Ying thrusts up before he can stop himself, trying to get the movement back, but he stops short when Lan Zhan gives him a firm squeeze.
"How is my technique?"
"Uh, you're doing great! Perfect!"
Lan Zhan gives him a look that, if Wei Ying had to guess, means "You're the teacher here. So teach."
Wei Ying huffs out a half groan and tries to drag his brain back into the land of the living.
"Maybe, uh... faster?"
Lan Zhan nods and then his hand is moving again, thank god, pace a bit quicker and yeah. Okay. Maybe feedback is a good idea.
"And uh..." Wei Ying puts his hand over Lan Zhan's, guides him over his own prick, into a half twist at the end of each stroke and fuck.
Lan Zhan speeds up again, staring intently down at their tangled hands until Wei Ying has to close his eyes out of self preservation. His hips stutter off the bed moments later as Lan Zhan wrings an orgasm out of him, continuing his quick strokes until Wei Ying bats his hand away and buries his face in Lan Zhan's shoulder, shaking from overstimulation.
"Good job," Wei Ying says, voice muffled against the soft silk of Lan Zhan's robes. "Top marks."
There's a contemplative "hm" from above him and he drags his head up to see Lan Zhan staring at his own hand, still messy with Wei Ying's come and oh god he has to bury his head again.
He finally works up the willpower to drag himself out of Lan Zhan's lap and clean up, handing a damp cloth to Lan Zhan before self consciously turning away and attempting to clean his own messy clothes. Wei Ying's pretty sure there's no smooth way to get come off your own pants, and he really hopes Lan Zhan doesn't expect that to be part of their lessons.
It feels like things should be awkward after that, sitting in Wei Ying's tiny room, air still humid with sweat and Wei Ying only mostly cleaned up. But then he notices one of the books Lan Zhan has smuggled in is about arrays, and Wei Ying has been dying for more information on higher level sealing spells. Before he can help himself, he's flipping through the book, flopping down on his bed and grabbing for parchment and ink to take notes. Lan Zhan joins him after a moment. He starts working through one of the books himself, but seems more interested in watching Wei Ying, answering quickly any time Wei Ying needs to clarify something from the text.
It's comfortable, studying on his tiny bed, body pressed against Lan Zhan's solid thigh. Wei Ying suspects he might have gotten in trouble less often during the few years of lessons he had back in Yunmeng if he could have studied like this. Though possibly the pre-lesson hand jobs might have been a bit much at thirteen.
Wei Ying is most of the way through a particularly interesting but dense chapter on stasis arrays when he realizes Lan Zhan has set his own book aside and is staring at him rather intensely. He finishes his current paragraph, scribbles one last note to himself in the margins of his parchment, then looks up.
"Something up, Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan pauses for a moment, then says in a crisp voice, "Should we try oral sex next?"
Wei Ying hears a page rip under his fingers. Fuck. Destroying Gusu Lan library material is probably punishable by death, Wei Ying thinks, because he cannot think about Lan Zhan's question just yet. He shoots a flicker of spiritual energy through the paper to seal up the rip, then sets the book carefully aside.
"I assumed that was the next logical step?" Lan Zhan asks. It's more tentative than Wei Ying is used to him sounding, which rattles Wei Ying's brain free long enough for him to smile and nod.
"Yes, definitely! We can do that! Did you want, uh... now?"
Lan Zhan nods, and well. No time like the present, Wei Ying supposes. He pushes himself off the bed, moves towards Lan Zhan before letting himself sink to the floor in front of the man.
"Oh, I..." Lan Zhan pauses, blinks once as he looks down at Wei Ying. "Yes, this will allow me to learn from you before trying myself."
Wei Ying swallows hard at the image of Lan Zhan trying himself.
"Okay, I'm gonna..."
Lan Zhan wears too many clothes, is the thing. Wei Ying is sliding his hands under a third layer of silk and embroidery when the ridiculousness of the situation hits him hard and he has to choke back a laugh. Lan Zhan stiffens under Wei Ying's hands, and he looks up quickly to reassure him.
"You're fine, I'm just... do all you Lans wear this many layers?"
Lan Zhan doesn't exactly unclench, but he does look less nervous at that. "It is traditional."
"It's very beautiful. Your virtue is well protected under all this — ah, okay there we go."
He finally has the fabric rucked up and to the side, can drag down Lan Zhan's trousers underneath, and Wei Ying is suddenly glad he broke the tension a bit. Digging through a village worth of silk and brocade feels absurd enough that he's less nervous now and more able to appreciate... everything here. Lan Zhan's smooth thighs, finally free from fabric and solid under Wei Ying's hands, a light dusting of hair coalescing around Lan Zhan's cock and...
Wei Ying had felt it before, knew Lan Zhan wasn't exactly lacking in the area, but seeing him exposed like this, on Wei Ying's tiny bed, eye level and overwhelming. It's a lot. Literally and figuratively.
"Okay, I'm gonna..."
Wei Ying is working without a playbook here.
He knows what's supposed to happen, in theory, but he wants to get this right. They're barely a week into this agreement and Wei Ying doesn't want to be discovered a fraud quite so soon.
He wraps a hand around the base of Lan Zhan's cock, feels Lan Zhan shudder under him, then carefully, so carefully, leans forward and takes him into his mouth.
He doesn't get far before he has to pull back or risk choking himself, and Wei Ying thinks there must be a better way of doing this — some technique he isn't privy to — but he doesn't think Lan Zhan is complaining. Not if the sharp intake of breath from above is any indication. He gives a tentative bit of suction, warmth curling in his chest as Lan Zhan huffs in another ragged breath, then he lets himself start moving. Working down as far as he can and letting his own hand meet his lips when he can't go any further. He's getting into a rhythm, he thinks, when Lan Zhan shudders under him, hips bucking just enough that he hits the back of Wei Ying's throat, and suddenly Wei Ying is coughing. Has to pull back to catch his breath.
"Are you..."
"I'm fine!" Wei Ying says between choked coughs. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and, wow. That's a lot of spit, actually. Gross.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"You're fine!" Wei Ying repeats, and looks up to catch Lan Zhan's eyes, a jolt of heat running through his belly when he sees how blown out Lan Zhan's pupils are, the gold of his eyes almost invisible.
Wei Ying can't stop himself then, moving back down and taking Lan Zhan into his mouth again, holding him in place with a firmer grip on the base of his cock as he risks speeding up his pace. Lan Zhan's breath gets quicker, more ragged, until Wei Ying feels a hand on the back of his head. Lan Zhan's long fingers work their way into his hair, gripping just tightly enough to send a shiver down Wei Ying's spine.
"Wei Ying, I think I'm..." Lan Zhan starts to speak, but Wei Ying pushes himself down further, hollows his cheeks as Lan Zhan's voice stutters to a stop and then there’s a hot rush on his tongue, down his throat.
He pulls off too soon, winds up with a mess down his chin that only gets worse when he can't decide if he should spit or not and ends up sloppily splitting the difference.
He hopes Lan Zhan hasn't noticed the awkwardness. Idly wonders if there's a Lan precept that dictates what to do with a mouthful of come. It would be their first helpful rule, if so.
He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and looks up at the long line of Lan Zhan's neck, the bob of his Adam's apple as his breathing starts to even out. Wei Ying idly notes that he's hard again already, despite the mess he already made of his clothes and the uncomfortable twinge in his knees from the hard floor.
Which turns out to be good, because a moment later Lan Zhan rises, reaches for Wei Ying, and pulls him onto the bed before sinking to his own knees between Wei Ying's thighs. He looks up at Wei Ying, eyes flashing gold behind his long lashes and hands tentative on Wei Ying’s thighs, and says quietly, “May I?”
Wei Ying thinks it's very polite how he's wearing a lot fewer layers than the standard issue Lan wardrobe. Really, Lan Zhan should be thanking him for his simple and easily accessible attire. And then Lan Zhan is thanking him for it, and it's all Wei Ying can do to keep himself from pushing up into Lan Zhan's mouth.
It's over embarrassingly quickly. Lan Zhan also doesn't seem to know what to do with the mess, but he looks less serious than usual when Wei Ying laughs, only slightly hysterically, and starts rummaging around for the cloth from earlier to clean them both up.
By the time they're relatively clean, the sun is rapidly setting outside Wei Ying's tiny window, and he realizes with a start Lan Zhan has definitely missed Cloud Recesses dinner time at this point. So Wei Ying ducks out and buys some food for them while Lan Zhan is re-doing his hair, coming back with arms too full of buns, skewers of grilled vegetables (because he'd learned last time that along with not drinking alcohol, Lan Zhan also doesn’t eat meat, which Wei Ying doesn't understand but is willing to work with), and a bottle of lychee juice for Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan is in the hallway when he returns, and Wei Ying sags momentarily, thinking the man is heading home after all, but then Lan Zhan holds up a white bottle and Wei Ying realizes he must have been buying Emperor's smile from the front of the inn. Even with the horrible markup they have on it here. Wei Ying could kiss him.
Actually, Wei Ying could kiss him, he thinks as they go back into his room. So he does, setting the food down and dragging Lan Zhan back onto the bed where they get thoroughly distracted for another few minutes of tutelage before Wei Ying's stomach grumbles loud enough that they can both hear it, and Lan Zhan pulls back and forces him to eat.
---
Lan Zhan can't come to Caiyi too frequently, which is probably for the best because they’ve gotten through Wei Ying's entire body of hands-on knowledge in the first two lessons alone. He'd really intended to stretch that out a bit longer, but Lan Zhan's quiet "May I?" had fully destroyed his remaining will power.
He thinks he has a handle on the next few segments of his syllabus. And yes, he has written it out. It's tucked in the back of his bedside table and includes a very comprehensive ten part plan to teach Lan Zhan to be a proficient and sensitive lover. Unfortunately, at the rate they're going, he's going to hit the end of it within three more lessons, if that.
Wei Ying imagines Lan Zhan realizing he has nothing more to teach him after just a few weeks of time together, and then has to roll over so he can muffle an annoyed groan into his mattress.
It's time, he thinks, to admit he might need some help.
---
"Nie-xiong! Is it a bad time?"
Wei Ying looks down where Nie Huaisang has fallen to the ground. Admittedly, Wei Ying had been looking to make something of an entrance when he'd dropped from a tree branch onto the road in front of Nie Huaisang. But he hadn't expected the man to be quite that excitable. Wei Ying wonders if he should recalibrate his memories of their time together, and hopes he isn't looking in the wrong place for help with his current dilemma.
To be fair, the last time they'd really talked they'd been thirteen, just starting to face the ominous prospect of cracking voices and uncomfortably sweaty dreams. Even then, though, Huaisang had access to some off-color material he claimed he'd stolen from his older brother's personal collection. It had been a hot commodity among the young disciples any time they were gathered in one place.
"Wei-gongzi," Huaisang says, picking himself carefully from the ground, then flipping open his fan and inspecting it carefully. It doesn't look damaged to Wei Ying, and Huaisang seems to agree because he snaps it shut again after a moment and smiles. "Were you looking for me?"
"Absolutely," Wei Ying says and throws an arm over Huaisang's shoulder, pulling him close. Huaisang curls in on himself, but doesn't shrug away from the contact. Excellent.
"How's your time at Cloud Recesses going, anyway? Still five thousand rules about how to fold your sleeves and drink your tea?"
"I think it's three thousand?"
"Adding more every day, the last I heard. They'll be up to ten thousand by the time you head home. So hey, I have a question for you."
Nie Huaisang flips his fan open again, flutters it nervously but still doesn't pull away from Wei Ying.
"Yes, Wei-gongzi?"
"So back in the day you had a... collection of books. If someone were looking for, eh, some interesting reading material along those lines, would you know where he might acquire it? Hypothetically speaking?”
"Hypothetically speaking?" Huaisang asks, and his fan stops fluttering.
"Let's say it's for research purposes."
Huaisang does pull away at that, but when Wei Ying finally catches his eyes he has a familiar grin on his face.
"If someone, hypothetically speaking, were looking to further their understanding of the subject, then this disciple might be able to help."
Wei Ying grins back. It really has been too long.
"Come with me? I have some good options in my room."
Nie Huaisang nods in the direction of the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Ying briefly wonders if heading to the heart of Gusu Lan to bum pornography from a childhood friend is a bad idea. But then Huaisang is making his way happily down the road, fanning himself and humming softly under his breath, and Wei Ying can't help but smile and follow.
The guards at the gate look deeply suspicious as they approach, but Huaisang steps in front of Wei Ying, taking up their attention and fluttering his fan nervously.
"I forgot to bring my friend's book back to him. It's in my room, and I promised him. I said I'd bring it a week ago, even, and he's been so patient. I can't make him wait any longer! We just need to duck in, it won't be more than a moment and then he'll be back to his night hunting duties, protecting the local villages..."
The guards move from looking annoyed at Huaisang's nervous ramblings to intrigued by the thought of a mysterious rogue cultivator stopping by.
"Surely you've heard of the Yiling Rog… ah, I mean, Wei Wuxian?"
Nie Huising flips his fan out, quickly hiding behind it as the guards turn and look excitedly at Wei Ying. Wei Ying shrugs, pretty sure he isn't going to live up to whatever the Lan Cultivators have heard of him. They still both go a bit wide-eyed, which for a Lan is practically jumping with excitement, so Wei Ying cocks his most roguish smile before saying "We'll just be inside for a bit."
"After we retrieve his book, maybe he can tell you a few stories of his hunts? The flood dragon of Yiling is an especially enlightening tale, I’ve heard..."
"He does have a pass," the first guard says, nodding toward Nie Huaisang who flutters his fan again, looking unthreatening.
The second guard gives a small shrug and then waves them through.
"I knew I missed you for a reason," Wei Ying says once they're far enough away that the guards won't be able to hear. "You always were the best at getting us out of trouble." He grins at his old friend, and Nie Huaisang grins back, the exchange making something warm blossom in his chest.
“Now what’s this about a flood dragon?” Wei Ying asks, because that’s a new one.
“Oh, I’m sure I heard that somewhere, Wei-gonzi,” Huaisang says with an innocent look. “You know how gossip travels.”
Huaisang seems as happy to see Wei Ying as Wei Ying is to spend time with him. They fall back into old habits easily, Wei Ying laughing as Huaisang shows him his collection of scandalous books — which has grown considerably since they were thirteen, both in size and diversity of subject matter. Wei Ying pockets a few texts that Huaisang promises him will be a thorough starting point, feeling intensely grateful he isn't going to be stumbling quite so alone in the dark in his next tutoring sessions with Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying is about to make a hasty retreat before the guards who let them in get concerned and come after him, but Huaisang cuts him off before he can make his excuses.
"Ah, they'll be off their shift by now anyway. They're probably getting lunch. Even Lans get hungry, right? Come on, I want to show you my newest fan."
So Wei Ying shrugs and then displays appropriate awe at the delicate paintwork Huaisang seems so proud of. It's partially gratitude, partially genuine interest. Not just the artistry of the fan (though Wei Ying, perhaps more than most, can appreciate the craftsmanship Huaisang is so smitten with) but the way the boy's face lights up as he realizes he isn't going to be cut off halfway through a treatise about ink choice and brush strokes.
It's been years since Wei Ying has spent any length of time with a friend. He occasionally will run into people he knew once upon a time, stopping by a friendly household in between night hunts or being invited in for dinner as he moves from town to town. But never for long. He's careful these days, about not wearing out his welcome. He's felt the consequences of doing so first hand, and isn't willing to repeat his mistakes so soon.
For now, though, he lets himself enjoy the company, chattering away happily until the sun starts sinking low enough that he really does have to head back to Caiyi if he wants to avoid getting bitten by a grumpy Little Apple forced to wait too long for dinner.
---
Lan Zhan occasionally gets a few glorious days away from endless matchmaking, because for all these people have travelled quite a distance specifically to see him, there are still lectures to hold and sect business to attend to.
For the first time in his life, he is desperate to sit in on meetings with his uncle and the Lan elders. Both as an escape from awkward conversations with suitors, and because he knows there are undercurrents of tension growing every day between the sects in and around Gusu and major clans elsewhere. Lan Zhan suspects the Wens are making movements even now to consolidate their territories and strengthen their military power beyond their borders.
Infuriatingly, he doesn't know that, though, because his uncle and brother refuse to let him in on the most important discussions. Lan Zhan is, occasionally, allowed to join conversations about planning night hunts and archery competitions for their visiting disciples, or what dates upcoming banquets should be held and whether they should bring musicians or dancers in for the entertainment. (It's always musicians, their playing stoic and staid as is befitting Gusu Lan. Lan Zhan does not know why they even ask at this point.) Lan Zhan doesn't fight with his brother — has never fought with his brother — so he can't even push back beyond an annoyed scowl and pointed silence.
So while Xichen discusses matters of actual political importance, Lan Zhan is stuck having another endless round of tea with a boy from Lanling who looks like he is at least thirty-two years old, even though he claims he is twenty-two. Lan Zhan thinks he is either lying, or has cultivated his golden core so poorly that he is actually speeding up the aging process, rather than slowing it.
So far the elderly Jin boy has complained about the Cloud Recesses’ early schedule, its lack of alcohol, and how the women here are all "like walking icicles! I don't know how you stand it, Lan Zhan."
"Wangji," Lan Zhan corrects. The boy startles, then sneers at him.
"Excuse me, honorable Lan Wangji," he says, then finishes his cup of tea in one swallow.
Lan Zhan isn't sure why he's so annoyed by this boy. He probably isn't actually lying about his age, or aging faster than the average cultivator. And, Lan Zhan begrudgingly admits to himself, Wei Ying had made fun of the Cloud Recesses for exactly the same things just the other day. Well, not the women. Lan Zhan has yet to see Wei Ying meet a woman he didn't instantly get along with. He doesn't know how anyone can feel that at ease meeting new people, and it leaves Lan Zhan feeling oddly wrong-footed every time he witnesses Wei Ying smile and joke his way into yet another girl's good graces.
But somehow Lan Zhan has never found Wei Ying as grating as the parade of gentry presenting themselves as marriage prospects. Perhaps his brother is right, and he needs to refocus on being a gracious and desirable prospect. What use is training to be a good spouse if the marriage never happens in the first place.
"More tea?" Lan Zhan asks, because he realizes he doesn't know what the boy in front of him has been saying for the last few minutes.
"It's better than nothing," the boy answers, putting an elbow on the table gracelessly, and Lan Zhan carefully schools his face into a polite expression and pours a fresh cup.
Xichen finds him later, when Lan Zhan is in the library copying pages for Wei Ying so he doesn't have to return the most foundational texts after every lesson.
"Principles of core development, Wangji?" Xichen asks curiously when he sees what his brother is working on.
"A new disciple requested his own copy," Lan Zhan responds, because it isn't technically a lie. If Xichen assumes the text is for the newest visiting Ouyang disciple, that is not Lan Zhan's fault, really.
Lan Zhan expects his brother to move to his own work. They've spent many afternoons together in the library, focused on their separate studies in pleasant silence. So it's surprising when Xichen pulls a cushion over and lowers himself at Lan Zhan's side.
"If I may interrupt your work for a moment, Wangji?" Xichen asks politely, and Lan Zhan sets down his brush, brief annoyance at being pulled from his task leaving him when he sees the concerned look on his brother's face.
"How are your meetings with suitors faring? I realized we have not really spoken about it recently."
Lan Zhan wonders why his brother is bringing this up. Worries that perhaps he has been more transparent about his frustration than he realized. For all the task of finding a suitable political partnership is grating on him, he does not wish to be lax in his duties.
"It is going..." he bites back the word well because lying is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses. "I am grateful for the opportunity to help our sect."
That much, at least, is true.
"Wangji, if you find this too high an ask for you..."
Lan Zhan does not cut his brother off, because that would be rude, but he does take the brief lapse into silence as a chance to interject.
"It is not a burden to support our family and sect."
His brother looks worried. As if, perhaps, he doesn't think Lan Zhan capable of securing a good marriage.
"Is Uncle worried about my progress?" Lan Zhan asks, because he can't bring himself to ask if Xichen himself is worried. His brother is just as bound to the truth as he is, and Lan Zhan is not sure he could withstand the answer.
Xichen pauses contemplatively before responding. "Not about you, Wangji. There are some outside considerations that make things difficult."
Lan Zhan just barely holds himself back from rolling his eyes. Of course he would not be filled in on the trouble. He's just there to look pretty while serving tea to rude Jins.
His brother gives himself a too-knowing look. Lan Zhan's ability to hide his emotions is really slipping of late.
"It's Yunmeng Jiang," Xichen finally says, and Lan Zhan's annoyance at his own slip disappears in the face of actual information. "A marriage with a high ranking Jiang cultivator would be an ideal choice for retaining stability between sects. Do you remember their eldest daughter?"
Lan Zhan nods in ascent, the vague image of a kind-faced but not particularly memorable girl coming to mind.
"Her engagement into the Jin sect was only just dissolved last month."
That Lan Zhan does remember. The fight and subsequent dissolution of the engagement had strained even the Cloud Recesses’ strictures against gossip.
"It is far too soon for them to present her here without it causing scandal, even if Jiang Fengmian was inclined toward another political engagement after such a... notable ending to the last. None of the other young Jiang disciples are of high enough stature for the political alignment we need, though."
Lan Zhan nods again, feels the knot of annoyance that has taken up residence in his chest as of late unclench somewhat. It isn't him putting the pinched look on his uncle's face these days, and for all he still rankles at being left out of important discussions, at least none of that information was completely new to him.
"I will continue to do my best," Lan Zhan says with a sharp nod. Xichen sighs, and Lan Zhan briefly wonders if he is still missing something, but then his brother smiles and goes back to his work. Lan Zhan returns to copying the text in front of him, and stiffens his own resolve to make the most of Wei Ying's tutelage.
---
Lan Zhan attempts to teach Wei Ying history next. It is, perhaps, a mistake.
He realizes this the third time he looks up from the hefty book he is reading aloud from to see Wei Ying has, yet again, fallen asleep sitting up. It could almost be mistaken for meditation, if Wei Ying wasn't drooling slightly.
Lan Zhan lets the book shut with a crack and watches, unamused, as Wei Ying flails and tips over.
"I'm listening!"
Lan Zhan looks on as Wei Ying picks himself up, a wayward strand of hair plastered over his forehead and down his nose. He puffs out his lips and attempts to blow the hair out of his face, which does not work particularly well.
"If you were listening, what did I just read?" Lan Zhan asks.
"Something about Lan An?"
He at least has the topic correct, Lan Zhan thinks with another sigh.
"Do you not wish to continue the lesson, Wei Ying?"
"No no! I love it! Very interesting the way he… fell off a mountain, then started a sect?"
"Entered the mortal world and founded the Lan sect," Lan Zhan corrects.
"Yeah, that!" Wei Ying laughs, then flops over on his back. "Just, maybe we could do some more sword drills instead? I promise I'll study the history stuff on my own."
"Proper cultivation is not just swords and talismans," Lan Zhan says, repeating the words his uncle had drilled into his head from the day he started cultivating his own golden core. "A cultivator who does not study our history will never reach his true potential."
Wei Ying whines wordlessly at that and rolls back over, propping his face in his hands and looking up at Lan Zhan.
"Next up is the historical development of sword forms."
"Hey Lan Zhan," Wei Ying whines again, and there's an unholy glint in his eyes that makes something in Lan Zhan's stomach flip. "What if it's my turn to teach a lesson."
"Your turn?"
Wei Ying gives a pointed look at Lan Zhan's lap. Lan Zhan swallows hard.
"This is important, Wei Ying." Lan Zhan holds the book up again.
"This is important too, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying replies, and purses his lips sternly before he breaks into laughter. "Hey hey, how about this. I'll give you a practical lesson, and you can read about history to me while I do it. I'll learn to reach my true cultivation potential and you can learn stamina."
"Stamina?" Lan Zhan asks, because it's all the reply he can manage right now.
"It's very important."
Wei Ying gives Lan Zhan's lap a pat, and grins wider when he seems to realize Lan Zhan is already reacting to his suggestion.
"How about it?"
"Mn," Lan Zhan replies.
Wei Ying seems to realize it's not a no, because the next thing Lan Zhan knows his clothes have been pushed up and Wei Ying has a hand on him.
"C'mon. Read to me, Lan-laoshi."
Lan Zhan swallows and opens the book again.
---
Wei Ying has been taking notes from Nie Huaisang's reading material. He thinks at least one of the maneuvers they describe isn't physically possible unless your neck is way more flexible than a normal human’s, but the rest he's eager to take for a test drive.
He carefully trails his tongue up the underside of Lan Zhan's cock as Lan Zhan begins reading out loud again. Delicately sucks in the head and Lan Zhan's voice hitches, almost imperceptibly, as he recites a horrifyingly long list of sword masters of the last century. Takes him in as far as he can and presses a finger firmly behind his balls and, ah ha, there we go, listens as Lan Zhan's voice finally stutters into silence.
Wei Ying pulls off with a slurp and looks up at Lan Zhan. "You stopped! How am I supposed to learn if you won't read to me."
Lan Zhan adjusts the book so he is holding it one handed, effortlessly, and it shouldn't be so hot but that is a big book, Wei Ying idly thinks before Lan Zhan's other hand is tight in his hair and pushing him back down, and oh my god.
Wei Ying relaxes his throat as Lan Zhan resumes reading, voice low and gravelly, but remarkably steady. And cultivator Yang was succeeded by cultivator…
Wei Ying has practiced this a few times on his own after seeing it in Huaisang's books and finding himself very intrigued by the challenge. He's not sure how well the assorted root vegetables he used as a stand-in will translate, but Wei Ying's always been eager to test out new skills.
He nearly chokes himself at first, has to stop and breathe deeply through his nose a few times before trying again, but then he relaxes his jaw, lets the sound of Lan Zhan's voice wash over him, and lets Lan Zhan's weight slide into the back of his throat.
"Wei Ying."
Wei Ying's pretty sure he did not personally succeed cultivator Yang, actually, but before he can laugh at the slip-up, Lan Zhan is shaking under him, the hot slide of his release down Wei Ying's throat, and he has to pull off before he actually chokes.
Lan Zhan is panting almost as hard as Wei Ying when they separate, his face as flushed as Wei Ying has ever seen it and wow. He's gonna have to try that again if this is the reaction he gets. Even if his robes are quickly heading towards 'unsalvageably messy' at this point.
"Thank you, Lan-laoshi. That was a memorable lesson." Wei Ying surprises himself with how raspy his voice is.
"Memorable?" Lan Zhan says after a moment. Apparently even coming his brains out down Wei Ying's throat can't fully remove the skepticism from his voice.
The thing is, Wei Ying is terrible at memorization, unless he's doing it for petty reasons. So he happily licks his lips, wipes his chin with his sleeve, then recites the entire paragraph Lan Zhan had read to him.
"…And cultivator Liu was succeeded by cultivator Yang, who was succeeded by… and at that point you got kind of hard to understand, Lan Zhan, so you'll have to forgive your dedicated student for not knowing the rest."
Suddenly Wei Ying is flat on the floor looking up at Lan Zhan's flushed face. He has a single moment to realize he's just been pinned by the Second Young Master of Gusu Lan before Lan Zhan is moving down Wei Ying's chest, dragging his robes aside and taking his cock in his mouth with a ferocity that sends electricity straight up Wei Ying's spine.
Lan Zhan repeats Wei Ying's tricks motion for motion, and fuck. Wei Ying knows he was asking for this, but how the hell had Lan Zhan picked this up from one demonstration, while he was reading from the world's most boring historical treatise?
Wei Ying doesn't even have the book to distract himself, so he only gets as far as Lan Zhan pressing one finger delicately behind his balls while hollowing his cheeks before he is gone.
"Not fair, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying groans. He blinks up to see Lan Zhan delicately wiping his mouth with a spare cloth, before he kneels down and carefully cleans Wei Ying up as well. Wei Ying has to bury his face in his arm at the attention.
"Do I have to teach you history this way every time?" Lan Zhan asks as he arranges Wei Ying's robes back around him.
"Oh my god, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying cries, but he opens his eyes again and could swear Lan Zhan is smiling.
"It is important, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, when Wei Ying has pulled himself up from the floor and they've settled back on the bed. "It is important to… respect history. To learn from our elders' successes. And from their failures."
It sounds less like Lan Zhan is reciting from a textbook or stone wall of rules now. Wei Ying wonders who taught him this particular lesson, or if he came to it himself, perhaps. He pulls the book forward and flips to the page they left off on.
"I will be a dutiful student, Lan-laoshi."
Wei Ying is only half-joking now. Gives Lan Zhan a sincere smile and hopes he knows Wei Ying is willing to try here.
"Was whoever wrote this book trying to put us to sleep though? I remember Gusu history being a lot more interesting when they were forcing it into our heads before my first trip to the Cloud Recesses."
Lan Zhan looks like he wants to defend Lan Ruchang, who wrote the book they’re reading and Wei Ying knows perfectly well is a preeminent scholar of cultivation history, but who writes like he is trying to invent a cure for insomnia. Lan Zhan holds himself back from the lecture (truly admirable self control, Wei Ying thinks) and instead asks, "Trip to Cloud Recesses?"
"Oh, yeah. I don't know if you remember this, but I visited once when I was a kid," Wei Ying says.
Lan Zhan gives a non-committal hum, but Wei Ying supposes it would be a bit much for Lan er-gongzi to remember a random kid he bumped into half a decade ago. Wei Ying thinks back to that trip, can feel himself breaking into a helpless half-smile at the memory.
"It was supposed to be a full week of lectures and classes in Gusu, so the Yunmeng tutors drilled us all with endless Lan Sect history before we left. Didn't want us to embarrass ourselves, I guess, which. Joke was on them. We got sent home after two days when Jiang Cheng shoved me in the river and I dragged him in after me. Ha! He looked like a wet, angry kitten."
"It sounds... not pleasant?" Lan Zhan says, looking confused.
"Oh, it was hilarious. Jiang Cheng was always doing stuff like that, before I..."
Wei Ying cuts himself off abruptly, clamping his mouth shut before he can say anything he can't take back. Can't wipe from Lan Zhan's opinion of him.
"You can talk to me about it, if you want," Lan Zhan says, as Wei Ying sits there, frozen. Unable to even laugh and change the subject, like he usually does. "But you don't have to," Lan Zhan continues, after a pause.
His voice is surprisingly gentle, and that's what finally lets Wei Ying unclench. Take a small breath and continue.
"No it's…" Wei Ying shakes himself, cocks a half grin. "I miss him sometimes, is all. He was a little shit basically all the time — you know how brothers are — but he's my brother."
"Mn," Lan Zhan responds, looking at Wei Ying questioningly.
Wei Ying ducks his head, flops down on the bed, burying his face in the scratchy blankets so he doesn't have to think about what exactly Lan Zhan is asking.
---
As Lan Zhan slowly walks up the road from Caiyi to the Cloud Recesses that afternoon, he thinks about how he does not, in fact, know how brothers are. Or, he thought he had, but hearing the pride in Wei Ying’s voice when he calls his younger brother little shit makes him suspect he and Xichen have a very different kind of relationship.
Lan Zhan almost feels like he's manifested the man, then, when he crests a final hill on the road to the Cloud Recesses and sees his brother's familiar figure just outside the gates. Lan Zhan nods in greeting, before his mind decides now is the perfect time to remind him exactly what he was doing earlier this afternoon, and he has to fight a sudden blush as he checks that his clothes are straight and not... visibly stained.
Lan Zhan feels alarmingly certain his brother can read exactly what he was up earlier today on his face, but Xichen just walks in silence alongside him as they enter the Cloud Recesses. He looks worried, and Lan Zhan can feel himself getting defensive despite not knowing exactly what his brother is worried about. Xichen might not know the specifics (gods willing) but perhaps he thinks Lan Zhan is spending too much time away from home and his studies, or...
"If you do not wish to get married, I can look into finding my own match, Wangji. Or we can find another way to create political alliances. You do not have to bear this burden, if you do not want. My last wish is for you to be unhappy for the sake of duty."
Lan Zhan startles at the words. Wonders if, perhaps, he has been misreading the source of his brother's concern. "These things do not come... naturally to me. But I am working on doing better. It will, perhaps, be good for my own education," Lan Zhan replies. He finds he means it, too.
Xichen hums in response, but Lan Zhan can tell from years of practice interpreting his brother's body language that he has relaxed somewhat, if not as much as Lan Zhan would prefer.
"Perhaps you can marry Nie Yue," Xichen says after they walk in silence for a few moments. "She was quite proficient at carrying a conversation. It might take her days to notice you haven't added anything to the discussion."
Lan Zhan watches his brother's eyes flash with laughter at him, and thinks idly to himself little shit, testing the words and finding them not wholly inappropriate. Perhaps their relationship isn't quite as different as he thought.
---
They're working on binding spells in the late afternoon sun, out near Wei Ying's favorite pond, because he'd announced several hours ago that if he had to stare at the walls of his tiny room any longer he was going to go into qi deviation.
Lan Zhan had given him a scolding look — probably "thou shalt not speak in hyperbole" is Lan sect rule number two thousand and forty-three or something — but then he had carefully gathered up his own stack of brushes and scrolls and gestured for Wei Ying to lead the way out of the room.
Wei Ying has never brought anyone else to this pond. He likes having the place to himself, quiet and away from the eager eyes of local townspeople, wondering what sort of dangerous machinations he was up to now. Lan Zhan doesn’t feel like a violation of the space's privacy, though. His perfect posture and steady expression fit in seamlessly with the still water and graceful arch of tree branches overhead. Not that Wei Ying would say that out loud. Instead, he had flopped down on an empty stretch of grass and started sorting through half finished talismans again, grinning when Lan Zhan lowered himself gracefully nearby.
"Hey, what if I tweaked it like this," Wei Ying says, adding a quick few strokes of his brush before waving the paper at Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan furrows his brow — he is always especially dubious whenever Wei Ying starts messing with the classics — but then carefully responds “It wouldn't break the spell."
In Lan-speak, Wei Wuxian is pretty sure that translates to "Clever A-Xian. You've revolutionized the fundamentals of cultivation yet again with this remarkable new invention." and he grins brightly.
They continue in relative silence for a while longer, Wei Ying muttering ideas under his breath as he's long been in the habit of doing, and Lan Zhan largely ignoring him, as he's quickly learned to do in return. It takes Wei Ying a few moments to realize his companion's brush has gone still. When he finally looks up from his work to see Lan Zhan's eyes on him, Wei Ying realizes the man must have something he wants to say. He waits with bated breath for whatever is important enough to compel Lan Zhan to speech.
"I think I am ready for penetration."
"Oh," Wei Ying says, and immediately the talisman he is working on goes up in flames.
"Did you miss the radical for water again?" Lan Zhan asks, curious.
"Uh, probably," Wei Ying says, wiping ash off his hand. Lan Zhan looks askance at his now soot-streaked robes, but Wei Ying has more pressing matters than Lan Zhan's opinion of his general laundry care.
"You're ready for..."
"Penetration."
"Oh," Wei Ying says again, wondering if he has, perhaps, been hit in the head without realizing it and forgotten how language works.
"Is that not a reasonable next step?" Lan Zhan asks, sounding confused.
"Reasonable! Sure!" Wei Ying says, because this is all perfectly fine! He is absolutely fine with this! "Not... out here...?"
"Of course," Lan Zhan says, looking at Wei Ying in confusion. "I was under the impression there are preparations involved."
"Preparations," Wei Ying responds, and gulps down another yelp. "Yes. You're right. I need some, uh, time. To Prepare."
"I am available again three days from now," Lan Zhan says with finality.
"Great!" Wei Ying says, then hurries to smother his stack of talismans, which has begun smoking ominously again. "I'll... get prepared then."
Wei Ying spends the next 72 hours cramming for an exam he never anticipated, and cares more about acing than any bit of schooling he's had in his entire life.
Lan Zhan is big, is the thing. Wei Ying doesn't have a ton of people to compare him to, but from what he's seen when changing with fellow cultivators or in the rare bathhouse he treats himself to, Wei Ying isn't deficient in that department. But Lan Zhan is. Bigger than him. Like, a lot bigger.
Nie Huaisang's books mention the importance of oil, and fingers, which they've done, in a very enlightening tutoring session a few days ago, and stretching, which Wei Ying thinks makes a lot of sense. He practices on himself, and finds the whole thing very pleasurable, once he gets over the oddness of it all.
Beyond the physical concerns, Wei Ying finds he also just. Wants this to be good for Lan Zhan. It's practice, but it's still gonna be his first time. And that should be nice. Special.
Wei Wuxian is being stupid. He knows he is being stupid. But when the day in question arrives, that knowledge doesn't stop him from setting up some candles around his tiny room. And then, to even his own horror, scattering lotus petals over his tiny bed. But to care for the body one must care for the soul.
Wei Ying briefly thinks he really was wasted, not becoming a poet, but he'd miss night hunting too much to switch careers. Maybe he could do both, one day. He makes a mental note to invest in good calligraphy brushes the next time he has some spare silver.
It's probably a good addition to the lesson, anyway. Lan Zhan's future spouse might be the type who demands such things, and Wei Ying can't leave his student unprepared!
By the time Lan Zhan appears in the door to Wei Ying's room, looking stoic as always, Wei Ying has brought his anxiety under enough control that he can effectively mask it with a wide smile.
"What are those," Lan Zhan asks, looking at the flower petals strewn on his bed. The effect is somewhat tragic, given how worn the mattress is.
"Romance, Lan Zhan! Romance is very important."
"Mn," Lan Zhan says in assent. He looks like he's taking mental notes.
Then Wei Ying distracts them both by closing the door behind him and pulling Lan Zhan in for a long, long, stretch of making out.
"Oh," Lan Zhan says, mouth red and looking a bit disoriented once they finally break apart. "And what was that for?"
"Preparation!" Wei Ying says, brightly. "Preparation is a very important first step!"
"Mn," Lan Zhan says again, face schooled into his dedicated scholar look. It's so cute.
Wei Ying pulls Lan Zhan down to the bed, until they're seated side by side and an awkward silence fills the room. He's debating how quickly is too quickly to start pulling Lan Zhan's clothes off him, when the man in question breaks the silence.
"Will you be penetrating me?"
"What?" Wei Ying definitely doesn't yelp, but it is a close call. Yelp adjacent, perhaps, if he's being fully honest with himself.
"For the first time, will you be penetrating me, or will I be penetrating you," Lan Zhan asks again, as though the issue were clarity and not the fundamental premise of the question. Wei Ying hadn't even considered this might involve him... doing the penetrating. He wonders why he hadn't considered that. Lan Zhan is a dedicated scholar, after all, and naturally wouldn't want to miss out learning new skills from every angle. And the image, sudden and new in Wei Ying's mind, is... compelling. Overwhelming.
"Let's start with you?" Wei Ying makes a vague hand gesture that even he's not sure he understands, but Lan Zhan appears to get some sort of meaning out of it. He nods, then moves toward Wei Ying.
"Oh, okay. Down to business," Wei Ying huffs as Lan Zhan starts efficiently undressing him.
"Is this okay?" Lan Zhan asks, hands stilling, and Wei Ying rushes to nod and start returning the favor, pulling Lan Zhan's own robes apart and off his shoulders before there's any more confusion about just how okay Wei Ying is with this.
Wei Ying tries to get clinical about the thing, walking himself through the steps he'd carefully studied, in an attempt to not lose it before any penetration at all has occurred. He's narrating the process to Lan Zhan as he pours oil over his fingers, accidentally drips some on the floor and bed before he can get his hand to stop shaking, then ignores the mess in favor of leaning forward and starting to finger himself open.
He has two fingers in, stretch still odd but good, when he hears Lan Zhan suck in a deep breath and then there is a firm hand on his wrist.
"Can I..." Lan Zhan starts, voice low and soft.
Wei Ying stops, feels his heart give a firm thump in his chest, then nods yes. He moves his own hand away and bites back a moan when he feels Lan Zhan's fingers replace his own.
"Good, good," Wei Ying huffs out, trying to drag oxygen in as he shakes around three of Lan Zhan's fingers. "You should do this for everyone. It's a good...,” another stuttered breath, "a good lesson to learn."
"Even women?" Lan Zhan asks, pausing with his fingers crooked inside Wei Ying which, oh god he's going to die. Right here, on this scratchy mattress in the middle of a broom closet. "I was under the impression women are able to provide their own lubrication."
And Wei Ying has to laugh somewhat hysterically at that. He can tell from the man's expression that Lan Zhan is confused, but he just waits patiently until Wei Ying responds.
"They do, yeah, but you still, uh," He looks at Lan Zhan's cock, stiff and imposing. "Yeah, you should make sure to do it with women too. Want to make sure they're ready for you. So no one gets hurt."
Lan Zhan nods seriously at that, and Wei Ying can tell he's committed the lesson to heart at the mention of possible hurt. Then, finally, his fingers are moving again, even more insistent, and Wei Ying realizes he probably brought this on himself.
Wei Ying knows he should commit to stretching himself. This is his first time, too, and even three fingers still feel overwhelming. But there's a balance between being prepared and losing himself before the real lesson can start. So after a few more moments of cautious exploration Wei Ying pulls away, grabs more oil and slicks Lan Zhan up with a firm grip.
"Now?" Lan Zhan asks.
"Yeah," Wei Ying answers, before pulling Lan Zhan in for a quick kiss. "I think you're ready."
Wei Ying moves to turn his back toward Lan Zhan, but is stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Can we..." Lan Zhan pauses, purses his lips. "Is there a way to see you during? See your face..."
"Oh. Yes!" Wei Ying answers, because he's pretty sure he saw an option like that in Huaisang's books. He suspects it's a bit more advanced, but what's the point of being a genius if you can't try out more advanced sex positions on your first try, right?
"Here, I'll..." Wei Ying rolls over to his back, pulls a cushion toward himself and props it under his hips. "I think this should work?"
"Mm," Lan Zhan nods.
"Okay... wanna try?" Wei Ying grins, and then Lan Zhan is over him, holding himself up with one hand while he guides his cock toward Wei Ying with the other.
And fuck, Wei Ying thinks, even as he grimaces at the stretch. It's a lot. Even with the oil and the stretching. Lan Zhan feels immeasurably bigger than three fingers as he begins to press in, stretch overwhelming and laced with pain. Wei Ying tries to school his face, worried that at this rate Lan Zhan's going to think he's bad at this when it's just that Wei Ying hasn't done this part before and Lan Zhan has, he strongly suspects, a statistical outlier in his pants.
"I'm hurting you," Lan Zhan says after only a few moments. He pulls out a bit too quickly, making Wei Ying wince again at the sudden lack of stretch. "What am I doing incorrectly?"
"No! I'm fine! You're just... you're very big," Wei Ying says, and then, powering through before Lan Zhan can respond, "That's not a compliment. Or, it is, I'm enjoying it very much, but it's also just a fact. We might need... more stretching first?"
"I can do that," Lan Zhan says, and then he is back between Wei Ying's legs, working with his usual intense dedication and thoroughness. Wei Ying is going to sink into the bed until he becomes the first mattress-human hybrid, at this rate.
Wei Ying forces himself to let Lan Zhan work for interminable minutes, three fingers then four inside him. Until the discomfort from earlier has long since given away to overwhelming pleasure. He breathes deeply, attempts to think about unsexy things — fierce corpses, cleaning up after drunk inn patrons, Lan sect rules number 703-724 (pertaining to the care and cleaning of footwear) — until he thinks he really can't take it anymore.
"Okay, okay. Let's try again?"
Lan Zhan looks skeptical, scissors his fingers in Wei Ying for another full minute at least, until he nods in agreement and pulls out again.
There's still a stretch, verging on painful, but either the additional attention worked or Wei Ying is just worked up enough at this point to care less, because he's overwhelmed more with pleasure than pain now. And then something gives way and oh. It's a lot. It's so much. Wei Ying never wants to not feel this full ever again. Lan Zhan is hovering over him, careful and so, so still, and it's all Wei Ying can do not to writhe, pull the hesitant expression off the man's face, regardless of his own comfort.
"Are you..."
"It's great," Wei Ying cuts him off. "Give me a moment."
Wei Ying finally lets himself move, just a bit, and the discomfort is still there but so is the overwhelming sense of right. Of having Lan Zhan in him and over him and overwhelming him. Everywhere at once. Wei Ying pulls him down, one hand behind Lan Zhan's neck, and draws their mouths together.
Lan Zhan bites at his lip, arms still holding the rest of his body over Wei Ying's, steady and still.
"Move?" Wei Ying urges. "Please?"
He sees a flash of fire in Lan Zhan's eyes, before he has captured Wei Ying's mouth again, giving a slow thrust as well and oh. Yes. That's even better. Wei Ying's hands scramble over the long stretch of Lan Zhan's back, urging him onward. This is going to be good.
After, Wei Ying lies tucked into Lan Zhan's side, too hot in the muggy air of his room but unwilling to move enough to open the window. He might never move again. Let himself slowly turn to stone here, tucked into Lan Zhan's all-encompassing warmth.
He's interrupted by a sudden cool breeze playing with the strands of hair that have fallen out of their tie and down the nape of his neck. He looks up to see Lan Zhan has opened the window from across the room with a careless flick of spiritual energy. So wasteful. So shameless. Wei Ying grins helplessly into Lan Zhan's smooth skin.
They'll need to try this way a few more times, to make sure Lan Zhan's perfectionist streak is satisfied. And then they can try... the other way. And Wei Ying has to bury his face in his pillow at that image. But that means there's at least a few more weeks of this arrangement before Wei Ying has to worry about their lessons coming to an end.
---
When they've finally gathered the energy to clean up and re-dress, Lan Zhan finds himself feeling restless. Wanting to do... something in gratitude.
Wei Ying has given him a gift, even if he's just doing this as part of their arrangement. Lan Zhan will keep dutifully teaching him cultivation techniques, but he doesn't want tonight to have been all transactional, somehow. Wants to take care of Wei Ying the way Wei Ying has taken care of him.
Wei Ying has fallen into a half-sleep again, sprawled bonelessly on the bed. Lan Zhan lets himself watch the steady rise and fall of his chest for an indulgent moment, before he takes his qiankun bag and heads out to buy food and something for them to drink. He finds one of the nicer food stands nearby, wants to be sure he can get all of Wei Ying's favorites. He also requests two jars of Emperor's Smile tonight. When he ducks back into the room a short while later he finds Wei Ying still dozing. Lan Zhan watches him for a moment, before waking him with a gentle hand through his hair where it’s spread out messily over the bed.
They eat, and it's the quietest he thinks Wei Ying has ever been around him, blinking sleepily as he goes back and forth between comfortable silence and easy stories about the customers who've come through the inn lately. Eventually, Wei Ying falls asleep for real, still curled up on Lan Zhan's lap. Lan Zhan means to leave, he really does, but despite the rickety bed beneath them he's too comfortable. He feels himself starting to flag as it gets closer to nine, and finally lets himself curl around Wei Ying and fall asleep as well.
He wakes up the next morning, wrapped around Wei Ying, limbs tangled together and Wei Ying's hand clinging to his robes. Lan Zhan realizes with a start that this is, as far as he can remember, the first time he's woken up next to another person since he was six and Xichen would crawl into bed with him when he woke panting with nightmares. Even on night hunts as a junior, the other disciples would keep their distance, too intimidated or just uninterested in getting close to the uptight Second Young Master of Gusu Lan.
It's... nice. Which he finds surprising. If he'd had to imagine before now, Lan Zhan would have thought this too much contact. Too intimate for someone who isn't his own flesh and blood. But Wei Ying is warm and solid in his arms, and Lan Zhan finds he is loath to extract himself.
He has to, though. The sun is peeking through the slatted windows of Wei Ying's room, which means someone might have already noticed Lan Zhan never returned to the Cloud Recesses the night before. He can imply there was a sudden demand on his time outside their confines — technically true, if too close to deception for Lan Zhan not to feel guilty about it — but he doesn't want his brother or uncle asking too many questions.
Lan Zhan carefully extracts himself from the bed, shoves down a sudden feeling of... something distressing... when Wei Ying makes a sleepy grab as he pulls away.
"Nooo," Wei Ying whines without opening his eyes.
Lan Zhan forces down a smile, then leans over and, carefully, brushes a kiss over Wei Ying's forehead. "Go back to sleep."
Lan Zhan allows himself one indulgent moment in the doorway, watching Wei Ying curl back into himself and return to sleep, before he sweeps out of the room and back home.
Notes:
Next chapter up on Saturday, featuring: romance? wens?? gay caves????
Chapter Text
Lan Zhan is not particularly skilled at reading people. Or, to be more accurate, he's very skilled at reading people in a fight, has a nearly preternatural ability to predict the next swing of a sword or flash of a talisman. He's not skilled at reading people's emotions, though, and up until recently has felt no real need to change that.
He's starting to get a bit annoyed, though, by how frequently his suitors leave their endless afternoons of tea and walks in the garden and stilted conversation looking, by turns, bored, awkward, or outright annoyed. He never seems to have this problem when spending time with Wei Ying, and not for the first time he wishes the gentry who have descended on Cloud Recesses looking for a good political marriage had the man's conversational skill.
"Oh, Wangji," Lan Zhan's brother says when he raises the topic. They've been playing guqin together for an hour or so now, trying out a new melody Xichen has been perfecting in recent weeks. Today, though, Lan Zhan is finding it harder than normal to concentrate. He keeps remembering the woman from an offshoot of the Ouyang sect he'd shared an uncomfortable hour of conversation with that morning. He's pretty sure she'd been crying by the time they parted ways, and he still can't actually figure out why.
Xichen sets his instrument to the side and gives Lan Zhan a long look, the kind that is usually followed by something uncomfortably kind and insightful.
"You're not much of a romantic, are you."
That, Lan Zhan was not expecting.
"I have met her older sister before, and if they're anything alike, she had probably built up a whole story in her head about being swept off her feet by the dashing Lan Wangji," Xichen says. He looks like he's about to laugh, and Lan Zhan can't fathom why his brother finds this so funny, or how he knows it in the first place.
"How..." he starts, but his brother mercifully cuts him off.
"They're a romantic family. Ouyang Meiling tells fantastic stories, if you ever have a chance to spend time with her, though I don't know that you'd find them as diverting as I did. Some people want to feel like they are a character in a story, when it comes to marriage. They want romance."
Lan Zhan nods and tucks that note away in his mind to contemplate later. He doesn't want to take up more of their limited practice time now, even if the idea of pressing Xichen on the basics of romance wasn't deeply horrifying.
He has a better suited teacher available to him, anyway. Wei Ying has, as far as Lan Zhan can tell, never met a person he couldn't seduce into at least a casual friendship, if not more. Surely he will be able to explain what his suitors are looking for when it comes to romance.
Lan Zhan brings up his concerns over not being sufficiently romantic with Wei Ying later, after a second round of penetration practice has gone exceedingly well, if he does say so himself. Perhaps next time they can try reversing roles.
They're lounging on the bed, idly working through a book of arrays, when he finally convinces himself to ask the question. Lan Zhan doesn't want to question Wei Ying's methods, especially since they're clearly working so well when it comes to actual intercourse, but the conversation with his brother has left him worried they've either missed an important lesson on romance, or he is not being graded strictly enough.
Wei Ying looks confused at his question. "But you're extremely romantic?" he says, and then Lan Zhan is also confused.
Apparently, Wei Ying informs him, having Emperor's Smile at the ready, bringing Wei Ying snacks constantly, and insisting on cleaning up after all their lessons, practically forcing Wei Ying to stay in bed and relax, all count as "romantic."
"You opened three doors for me this morning alone," Wei Ying says with a laugh, “like I'm not capable of doing it myself. It was hilarious."
"Wei Ying is capable," Lan Zhan says, avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, exactly. That's what makes it romantic. Are you doing all that with your dates? I mean, not the cleaning up after sex thing, I assume, but the opening doors? Bringing them wine? That kind of stuff."
"Alcohol is not allowed in the Cloud Recesses," Lan Zhan says, mostly on reflex, but then he thinks about it.
He realizes he really hasn't been doing that. Isn't sure why it comes naturally when he's with Yei Ying but seems so unnatural and difficult with the various suitors who've been in and out of Gusu Lan.
It must be a lack of practice, he decides firmly. His lessons have focused entirely on the aspects of marriage that happen in the bedroom. And, to be fair, that had been Lan Zhan's primary concern at the start of this arrangement. But he's realizing he may need help outside of private marital duties. He has never romanced anyone before — has never wanted to — and it clearly is more important than he realized.
"Would you teach me?"
Wei Ying looks up from his parchment, quizzically.
"Arrays? I don't think the student has quite become the master yet, Lan Zhan."
Lan Zhan gives a quick look to the complicated cleansing array Wei Ying is currently practicing, one that even seasoned cultivators often struggle with, and thinks he's not that far off. But that hadn't been his point.
"Not arrays. Romance."
Wei Ying sets his brush down, oddly careful for the man, then turns to look at Lan Zhan. He is full on grinning, smile wide and eyes flashing with laughter. Lan Zhan swallows before he can say something he will regret.
"Do you want to practice dating, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying asks. He's teasing, but a moment later he leans over and bumps Lan Zhan's shoulder familiarly, bringing him in on the joke instead of leaving him the target of it.
"Mn," Lan Zhan responds, hoping Wei Ying will fill in the blanks for him. Mercifully, he does.
"You can take me to the Five Rivers Festival. It's a week from now, if you have that evening free?"
"I am free," Lan Zhan says, and then Wei Ying is grinning again, smile bright as always and cutting straight through Lan Zhan's defenses.
---
Wei Ying still regularly goes night hunting on his own. It's not really a choice, if he wants to keep food on the table and a roof over Little Apple's head, but he also just enjoys it. Likes the sense of accomplishment of helping nearby towns stay safe and whole.
He heads out again the day before the festival, hoping to return with enough silver in his pockets that he doesn't have to make Lan Zhan pay for all the pastries they eat tomorrow. (Just most of them. Where's the joy in life if you can't impose on the people around you for free dinner, after all?)
He's heard reports of fierce corpses tormenting traveling merchants up north, and has high hopes a shop owner or two in one of the nearby towns will be willing to pay him to keep their flow of new merchandise uninterrupted.
Wei Ying isn't sure if the problem is actually more severe than the reports he'd heard around Caiyi, or if he just gets very unlucky today, but only a few hours into his hunt he finds himself set upon by not one but three ferocious corpses. They're larger and faster than normal as well, and while he definitely does have the situation fully in hand, thank you very much, he may be limping slightly from where one took a chunk out of his left leg while he was avoiding a blow to the head from another of the group.
Wei Ying whips Suibian through the air, finally decapitating one, it's body dropping bonelessly to the ground. He can feel blood oozing from the wound on his leg as he lifts his sword again, the two remaining corpses converging on him in a slightly worrying tag team.
Then there's a sudden hiss of displaced air, and Wei Ying blinks as the second corpse falls to the ground. Another hiss and the third drops as well, and Wei Ying is left standing with his sword raised and no corpses left to strike.
"Is the young master okay?" a tentative voice says in the distance. Wei Ying looks up to see a young man standing about a hundred paces away, bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows on his back. That explains the defeated corpses, he supposes. There's a woman next to the young man, wearing matching red and black that Wei Ying recognizes as sect colors of the Wens of Qishan. Which… usually Wei Ying would prefer to face down a cadre of fierce corpses, if he's honest with himself, but he's having trouble finding the douchebaggery typical of the Wen Sect in the young man with the bow and arrow's open face.
"Are you injured?" the woman asks, her voice soft but firm. She begins striding toward him, and Wei Ying actively stops himself from brandishing Suibian. He doesn't take his hand off the hilt though. Kind-faced or not, he doesn't trust a Wen as far as he could throw them.
"I'm fine! Had it totally under control, really. Thanks for the assist, though. I’ll never say no to help knocking out a few fierce corpses."
Wei Ying laughs, and shifts his weight away from his injured leg, mostly disguising his wince at the movement. He doesn't think he got away with it, though, because the next thing he knows the woman is up in his space, eyes trained on the slow spread of blood over his robes.
"Ha ha, what?" Wei Ying asks, somewhat hysterically.
"Young master, my sister is a doctor. If you'll allow it, she can treat your injury?"
Wei Ying wants to protest more, but he's feeling kind of helpless in the face of the woman's firm stare and the kid's upsettingly kind eyes. Instead, he just flops down on the ground and hikes his own robes up, propriety be damned.
She doesn't seem shocked at all by the sight of his bare leg, which Wei Ying thinks probably speaks well of her skills as a doctor. She pulls a roll of crisp, white bandages from her bag and starts efficiently cleaning and wrapping his wound. Wei Ying whines dramatically at the sting, but just a few minutes later his leg has been neatly bandaged and is already starting to feel less painful thanks to whatever herbs she used as a poultice.
"Ahh, first you save my life, now you save my leg," Wei Ying says as he pushes himself to his feet.
"I thought you said you had it under control," the woman replies. Her voice is still soft, but Wei Ying thinks he sees a hint of a spark in her eyes. He laughs loudly, letting his head tilt back with it, before he smiles and flaps a hand at them both.
"Come on, we're still pretty near Caiyi. Let this humble cultivator treat his noble saviors to dinner, as a thank you."
The woman looks like she wants to say no, but the boy seems delighted by the prospect and it's clear she can't bring herself to deny him. The next thing Wei Ying knows he has dragged them both back to his shitty little inn and ordered the best food they have available, plus a bottle of chili oil to hopefully drag the meal from "mediocre" to "decent."
Wei Ying goes from casually optimistic that these Wens aren't the worst to fully on board with the friendship when he watches the woman — who introduces herself as Wen Qing — pour half the bottle of chili oil over her meal. Her brother doesn't indulge in the extra spice, which is tragic for him, but he's so adorable Wei Ying can't bring himself to do anything but beam at him delightedly from across the table.
"And Wei-gongzi usually goes night hunting by himself?" Wen Ning asks, looking awed and worried. "You must be so talented!"
"Oh my god," Wei Ying croons and pushes more of the best tofu toward Wen Ning. "I want to adopt you."
Wen Qing snorts a disbelieving laugh at that, but Wei Ying's pretty sure she agrees with his approval of her brother.
Wei Ying drifts from exaggerating stories of his wildest night hunts to badgering Wen Qing about the weirdest injuries she's ever treated to teasing out the depth of Wen Ning's archery skills. (They're impressive, from what he can get the boy to admit to, combined with the look of pride in Wen Qing's face as she watches her brother speak.)
Between all of that and the food and wine, Wei Ying entirely forgets to ask the Wen siblings what business they have in the area. It doesn't occur to him until they politely excuse themselves late that night, and he walks them out of the inn and away from Caiyi. Watches their retreating backs as they take the fork in the road toward the Cloud Recesses.
Well, fuck. He supposes that explains why a woman of marriageable age and her brother were traveling all the way from Qinghe. And, well. Wei Ying had half wanted to kiss both of them after tonight. They might be perfect for Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying is going to leave Lan Zhan's future spouse with the world's most capable lover, he tells himself in lieu of letting his brain wander in directions he cannot afford to go. He hopes that future spouse will appreciate the gift they've been given. Meanwhile, Wei Ying will go back to his usual life of night hunts and serving drinks and making ends meet from one day to the next.
He'll be fine, he tells himself firmly. He's been fine so far, and he'll be fine after Lan Zhan leaves. At least there are still a few things he can find in Huiasang’s porn stash to keep Lan Zhan interested, for the moment, so Wei Ying can wait for another day to think about being on the road again with just Little Apple and the stars for company.
---
Wei Ying loves festivals. Has for as long as he can remember, even during the years when he didn't have a piece of silver to his name to buy himself the dumplings or firecrackers he watched other children enjoy with envy.
Before the Jiangs, a festival meant strangers in high spirits were more likely to slip him a spare bit of candy, or at the very least not kick him out of the way when he scavenged through their discarded food.
The best were the years in Yunmeng, when Jiang Yanli would press noodles into his hands at the summer solstice and dumplings covered in chili oil at New Years. When Jiang Cheng would buy too many pastries at every excuse Lotus Pier found for a celebration in between, and shove the extra at Wei Ying with a huff to cover a smile.
After the Jiangs, when Wei Ying was barely scraping by, night hunting for money from people who were gullible enough to believe him when he lied about his age, or at least didn't care enough to question it, he made a point to stop by every celebration he could find. He’s soaked in good cheer and the smell of cooking food everywhere from Qinghe to the southern Coast over the years.
Wei Ying tells Lan Zhan this, as they wander through the first few stalls lining the streets of Caiyi. The Five Rivers Festival is meant to celebrate the fortuitous meeting of the five main Gusu waterways, which have made Caiyi a hub of transportation and commerce. These days, it's mostly an excuse for peddlers from near and far to hawk their wares while the townspeople drink to excess and stuff themselves with pastries and dumplings, glistening with oil from the fryer.
As they walk, Wei Ying skims over the details of the lean years. Lan Zhan gets an odd sort of look on his face, whenever Wei Ying casually mentions his time on the street or some of the fights he'd barely scraped his way out of when he first left Yunmeng, a half-trained thirteen year old scrounging for work. Instead, Wei Ying waxes poetic about the long life noodles Shijie had given him his first summer in Lotus Pier.
Lan Zhan hums along with the story, indulging Wei Ying's elaborate descriptions of exactly how long his longest noodle had been (He measured. Shijie's muffled laughter was well worth the punishment he got for playing with his food.) and what the ideal ratio of soy to sesame should be. (Shijie's noodles were perfect, obviously, but he's found a few restaurants during his travels that come reasonably close in quality.)
As he rambles, they meander through the growing crowds, the noise of vendors selling snacks and musicians setting up on street corners mingling with the shouts of over-excited children trailed by indulgent parents.
When they reach the first food stand, Wei Ying stops in the middle of a monologue about spring onions to point out the delicious-looking red bean buns on display. A moment later, Lan Zhan has pressed money into the baker's hand and is passing one of the buns in question to a delighted Wei Ying.
"Ah, Lan Zhan, look at my star pupil," he coos at Lan Zhan's retreating back. "Already started on the romance practice! How smooth of you!"
Lan Zhan doesn't reply, but Wei Ying thinks he detects a hint of a blush on his face when he catches up to him.
It takes Wei Ying an embarrassingly long time to realize what's happening. Every time he pauses, distracted by a tasty looking pastry or a carefully painted fan that catches his eye, he finds himself holding it moments later, Lan Zhan's purse that much lighter for the effort.
He only fully catches on when he tries to thank Lan Zhan for the stick of tanghulu he has just handed over, and realizes he can't speak around the bag of sesame balls clenched in his mouth, which Lan Zhan bought him three stalls ago.
He'd take the bag out of his mouth, but his other hand is occupied with a small paper lantern Lan Zhan bought him earlier. He also has two sugar rabbits, a jar of plum wine, and an illustrated guide to Gusu marine life in his bag. This is starting to get out of control.
Wei Ying pushes the tanghulu back into Lan Zhan's hand and pulls the sesame balls out of his mouth.
"What are you doing?"
"Does Wei Ying not like hawthorn?" Lan Zhan asks, looking at the stick of candy, glistening bright and red in the lantern-lit dusk.
"Love it. I also love soup dumplings and pork buns and egg tarts and fried mantou and..." Wei Ying grins and raises his voice a bit, because Lan Zhan has gotten a look on his face like he is about to head resolutely toward the nearest mantou peddler "…I only have two hands. And one mouth."
"Mn," Lan Zhan replies, sounding unconvinced by Wei Ying's reasoning.
"Ah, Lan Zhan spoils me so much. No one would believe me if I told them the notoriously principled Lan Wangji bought me more presents than I can..."
Wei Ying is cut off, because Lan Zhan has shoved the stick of candied hawthorn into his mouth. Probably to shut him up, Wei Ying thinks after a shocked moment of silence. It's one of the more effective methods people have used to get him to be quiet, he must admit, but Wei Ying doesn't need words to torment his friends.
He leans forward further, enough to pull two of the shiny red berries into his mouth. Flicks his tongue over the sweet sugar shell, then carefully wraps his lips around the fruit and scraps them off the stick with his teeth, all while holding steady eye contact with Lan Zhan.
As he pulls back, bites through the crunch of sugar and tart juice of the hawthorn, he watches Lan Zhan swallow around nothing. Fantastic.
"Mm, Lan Zhan is such a considerate date," Wei Ying says, licking at the last bits of sugar on his lips. He watches Lan Zhan track the movement, feels electricity flicker down his own spine at the heat of the look. Then realizes he might have pushed it too far.
"But you don't need to buy me so much. This is just practice, right?"
Wei Ying grins, trying to defuse the tension. This is meant to be romantic, to help Lan Zhan practice what happens outside the bedroom, which won't mean much if they end up back on Wei Ying's bed after half an hour of wandering the festival.
"Wei Ying should have... nice things," Lan Zhan says. He's looking away now, like it would be hard for him to say this otherwise.
Something in Wei Ying's chest clenches. He tries to ignore it by shoving the tanghulu back at Lan Zhan, then realizes his mistake when Lan Zhan gives it a considering look and leans forward to take it into his mouth. He pulls a berry off the stick and chews carefully.
"Sweet."
"Too sweet?" Wei Ying asks. He can't quite keep a hitch out of his voice.
"No. Good."
"Ah ha ha," Wei Ying laughs half-hysterically. "You act like you've never had tanghulu before."
Lan Zhan doesn't respond, but the no, I haven't is clear in the way he looks anywhere but directly at Wei Ying.
What started as a chance to practice romance quickly devolves into Wei Ying dragging Lan Zhan past every variety of festival food, game, and performance he can find and asking if Lan Zhan's experienced it before. (Dragon’s beard candy: no. Kite shooting: yes, but those bow and arrows don't look of a very high quality, Wei Ying. Dancers: yes, but none quite as colorful or... flexible as these.)
Wei Ying watches in delight as Lan Zhan flushes at the dancers contorting themselves into artfully inhuman shapes to noisy cheers in the center of town. He hands Lan Zhan candy after candy, then takes them back and pops them in his own mouth when Lan Zhan deems most of them too sweet. He swipes a cup of wine out of Lan Zhan's hand after a cheerful drunk forces it on him with an indecipherable yell of celebration.
"Wei Ying, should you..." Lan Zhan starts, but Wei Ying has already tossed the drink back. (Tolerable, but not Emperor's Smile, more’s the pity.)
"Lighten up, Lan Zhan. It wasn't poison," Wei Ying says with a grin. Then, without thinking about it, he reaches down and grabs Lan Zhan's hand, tugging him away toward a stall he saw selling hair ornaments.
They're halfway down the street before Wei Ying realizes what he's doing. He stops in his tracks, looks down where he has Lan Zhan's hand clenched in his own.
"Ah ha, uh..."
"Did Wei Ying want to look at the instruments?" Lan Zhan asks, looking confused. He does not pull his hand away.
"What?" Wei Ying asks, before he realizes they are next to a shop stocked with intricately carved wooden instruments. "Uh, yeah... let's look at the instruments."
He means it as a distraction, but the craftsmanship really is impressive, at least to Wei Ying's untrained eye.
Lan Zhan's presumably trained eye seems to agree, because he pulls his hand away from Wei Ying's after a few moments to get a closer look at a lavishly decorated pipa. Wei Ying pouts at the loss of contact for a moment, but the image of Lan Zhan running his fingers over the narrow neck of the instrument is a pleasure all it's own. One Wei Ying doesn't want to interrogate too closely.
He distracts himself by browsing the table, strokes a finger delicately down the strings of a guqin before picking up a simple black dizi, the wood so polished he can see his own reflection in it.
He's always been drawn to the dizi. The sound of it, no matter the situation, pulling up half-forgotten memories of a simple, happy melody and the rough gait of a donkey beneath him.
He must get more lost in thought than he realizes, though, because the next thing he knows the salesman has moved over and coughed loudly. Wei Ying looks up to see the man clearly waiting for an answer of some sort.
"Uh, sorry, what was that?"
Wei Ying sets the flute down and scruffs at the back of his neck, flashing a grin of apology at the man.
"Does sir play the dizi?" The man repeats.
“I just like the sound of it,” Wei Ying answers.
The salesman gives a look over to Lan Zhan, then back to Wei Ying, clearly sizing up the size of their purses. He must like what he sees, because he gives a sickly sweet smile and pushes the dizi closer toward Wei Ying.
“I can think of no finer an instrument than this for the young master to learn with.” He then quotes a price at Wei Ying that makes his eyebrows try to leap off his face. It’s more than he made the past month. The past three months.
"It's pretty simple for that price," Wei Ying says, running a finger over the sleek wood again.
"Ah, the simplicity is what makes it worth the cost, young master!" the salesman wheedles. "Only the finest, most practiced of craftsmen can make something so... elegant."
It might be a persuasive argument if everything else on this table weren't shining with gilt and eye-wateringly complicated designs. But Wei Ying is no stranger to the sound of a salesman who thinks he's found an easy mark. The instrument seller must be from out of town. By now everyone in Caiyi knows the rogue cultivator who wears all black barely has two pieces of silver to rub together.
"I'm sure its future owner will appreciate the craftsmanship," Wei Ying says with a laugh. "Come on, Lan Zhan. I want to look at hair pieces!"
Lan Zhan turns towards him, glances down at the dizi in question, then gives Wei Ying a pointed look.
"You don't have anything in your hands."
"No?" Wei Ying replies, with a confused quirk of his head.
"Mn."
Lan Zhan turns to the pushy salesman.
"I will take the dizi."
Wei Ying tries to protest, hisses at Lan Zhan about how overpriced the damn thing is even as Lan Zhan is handing over an absurd handful of gold while resolutely ignoring him. The salesman looks torn between delight at getting his asking price and annoyance at Wei Ying's increasing insistence that the dumb flute isn't worth that much, Lan Zhan, please.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, taking the dizi from off the table and handing it over patiently.
Wei Ying rolls his eyes, but he knows that determined look in Lan Zhan's eyes.
He takes the instrument, runs the pad of his thumb over the dark black wood, then smiles weakly at Lan Zhan.
"I don't know how to play this."
Lan Zhan hums contemplatively as he turns and heads away from the stall, tucking one hand austerely behind his back.
"I will teach you."
Wai Ying stops in his tracks. The Lan Sect's musical cultivation techniques are a closely guarded secret. A form of cultivation Wei Ying has only had the opportunity to witness once, a few years ago when he stumbled across a group of Lan cultivators during a night hunt gone wrong. At the time his fingers had itched with the desire to learn to dispel hungry ghosts with an elegant thrum of music, but it wasn't like they'd be willing to teach a wandering cultivator, barely fifteen and filthy with mud after being dragged through the forest by a group of furious spirits.
Lan Zhan probably doesn't mean musical cultivation, Wei Ying reminds himself, and hops to catch up with the man. Maybe he'll teach Wei Ying how to pick out some local folk songs, though. If he's really lucky, maybe he can convince Lan Zhan to play with him some night. It seems like it would be a nice way to pass an evening.
As the sun sinks into a fiery display of reds and oranges across the sky, they go and sit by the river. It’s far enough away from the heart of the festival that things are quiet, the muffled sounds of distant revelry mixed with the hum of evening cicadas and the occasional giggle of couples looking for privacy.
Wei Ying's leg is starting to act up again, mostly healed from his night hunt incident the day before, but still bruised and sore after walking on it for hours today. He pulls Lan Zhan down to a rocky outcropping on the bank of the river, glad for the chance to let his legs dangle aimlessly over the edge while Lan Zhan sits, polite and upright, next to him.
There'll be fireworks soon, once the sun has set a bit more. Wei Ying is about to turn and ask if Lan Zhan has seen fireworks before &mash; surely he must have, even off in the quiet confines of the Cloud Recesses — but before he can open his mouth to ask there's a sudden warmth on his hand. Wei Ying feels the words leave him, looks down to see Lan Zhan has set his hand over his. Watches as Lan Zhan laces their fingers together carefully.
Wei Ying looks up to see Lan Zhan eyeing him tentatively, a question in his gaze. He feels himself smile back, helpless and real. Wants nothing more than to let Lan Zhan know this is okay. He can have this, today.
There's a flash in the distance, a hiss of air and the crackle of a firework exploding overhead. Wei Ying lets himself lean over, rest his head on Lan Zhan's shoulder, their fingers still tangled together on the warm stone beneath them. He breathes in the faint smell of sulfur from the fireworks mixing with fresh summer night and the now familiar hint of sandalwood and parchment that follows Lan Zhan everywhere he goes.
Tomorrow he'll remind himself about their arrangement. Tonight, he lets himself enjoy the flash of fireworks lighting up the night sky and the warmth of Lan Zhan's fingers tangled with his.
---
Wei Ying is sweeping the front entrance of the inn when he sees a familiar figure walking down the street, looking lost.
"Nie-xiong?"
The man in question looks up, the child-who's-lost-his-mother look on his face quickly replaced by a bright smile.
"Wei-gongzi! I found you!"
"You were looking for me?" Wei Ying asks, raising an eyebrow. Nie Huaisang looks a bit frazzled and very out of place amidst the steady stream of half-drunk patrons coming and going from the inn.
"Can we talk? I have a favor to ask you, Wei-gongzi," Huaisang continues, "and I have, uh... more reading material for you."
Wei Ying looks at the half swept front steps and thinks about the pile of books Lan Zhan asked him to read before they meet for another lesson. But Huaisang is smiling up at him hopefully, and looks so proud of having navigated Caiyi to find Wei Ying in the first place.
"I have to finish sweeping, but if you want to take a table I can find you when I'm done?" Wei Ying says, gesturing toward the front room of the inn. Huaisang nods cheerfully, then heads inside.
Nie Huaisang has already broken open a jar of wine by the time Wei Ying finishes his sweeping and heads in himself, waving to the inn’s owner to let her know he’s going on break before sitting down.
“Wei-gongzi,” Huaisang says with a nervous smile, before he pours a cup of wine for him. Wei Ying takes a sip and sighs happily. Huaisang clearly sprung for the good stuff today.
“So what favor has you getting me drunk, Nie-xiong,” Wei Ying asks, laughing when Huaisang goes red and stammers out a protest.
“I just wanted to treat an old friend! I’m not... not bribing you! It’s just...”
There’s a long pause, and Wei Ying finishes off his cup and pushes it forward for Huaisang to refill.
“We’re going night hunting tomorrow night.”
“Good for you?” Wei Ying says, not sure where this is going.
“They’ve planned a big night hunt and they’re making me go on it,” Huaisang continues, looking morosely at his own cup as Wei Ying fills it in turn. “I hate night hunting."
"So don't go?"
"They're making me!" Huaisang says, voice going high and huffy. "They always make me! Then everyone gets so mad when I’m terrible at it, even though they all know it going in! They know it, Wei-gongzi!!"
Wei Ying bites back a laugh. He thinks he knows where this is going now, and he's not opposed to it, honestly.
"Would you come with me?"
Ah, there it is.
He's busy. Probably too busy for it to be a good idea to swan off with a bunch of Lans and their collected visiting disciples. Plus, he's still nursing the lingering remnants of his earlier injury. But the last time he ended up on a hunt with the group had been so fun.
"What's in it for me?"
Wei Ying is only half serious with his question. Knows he's gonna go whatever Huaisang offers up but...
"I'll pay you!"
Huaisang plops a bag on the table with a loud enough rattle that Wei Ying knows it has enough coin in it to keep him and Little Apple in house and home for a month at least. That probably pushes this far enough into 'good idea' territory that he can say yes without guilt.
"Hmm..." Wei Ying hums with a dramatic pause.
"Please, Wei-gongzi," Huaisang whines. "My life depends on it."
Wei Ying swipes the bag off the table with a laugh. "Well, I wouldn't want to risk your life, Nie-xiong."
He catches Huaisang's eyes with a grin, sees the man grin back at him with a mixture of relief and delight.
"This is gonna be fun! Now... I think you have some reading material for me. How about we get another drink and go take a closer look in my room?"
Huaisang's grin turns wicked at that, and he flags down a server to bring them more wine.
They're pleasantly drunk a short while later, sprawled on Wei Ying's bed surrounded by half a library's worth of dirty books.
"Do you think this one is even possible?" Wei Ying asks. He takes another swig of the wine and tries not to cough at the burn. They've long since moved on to the cheap stuff.
Huaisang leans over the page and traces the outline of twisted bodies with a finger, face flushed either with alcohol or embarrassment. Probably both.
"I don't think..." Huaisang pulls back and holds his arm up above his head, attempting to twist it behind his back like the drawing illustrates. "I don't think arms do that?"
Wei Ying holds his own arm up, tries to rearrange his limbs to match the drawing before getting tangled up in himself and tipping over off the bed. There's a loud rattle as he knocks several hopefully empty bottles over. Wei Ying starts laughing, and soon Huaisang joins him, until both of them are breathless on the floor and okay, maybe he's more drunk than he realized.
He looks around and realizes the room is littered with at least half a dozen empty wine jars. That might explain things. This stuff is cheap but strong. Wei Ying vaguely thinks he should send Huaisang home before they get any more drunk. Or at least put away the rest of the wine. But, speaking of, there's a jar being thrust into his face and Huaisang is giggling as he waggles it and who is Wei Ying to refuse.
He grabs the jar, takes a long swig, then passes it back to Huaisang to finish off before flopping back on the floor and falling into helpless laughter again.
---
Wei Ying doesn't get hangovers. Hasn't in years. Not since he was twelve and he and Jiang Cheng found a bottle of ancient grain alcohol in the far recesses of the Lotus Pier kitchens and decided it was high time they experienced drinking.
The pounding headache and rolling stomach Wei Ying had woken up with then was worryingly familiar to the one he has now, but that doesn't mean this is a hangover because, as he said, Wei Ying doesn't get hangovers.
He's just... under the weather.
"Oh my god, I'm so hungover."
Apparently Huaisang does get hangovers, though. Which is tragic for him.
"Wei-gongzi, please help. I'm dying."
Wei Ying drags himself to his feet, trying half-heartedly to straighten out his robes before stumbling over to the water pitcher and pouring half of it directly down his throat. After a moment he pulls himself together enough to pour more water into an actual cup and shove it into Huaisang's hands where he is lying on the floor emitting a long, low moan.
They stumble out into the main room of the inn eventually. Wei Ying feels remarkably like he has been turned into a fierce corpse during the night. He tries to shovel a bowl of congee into his face in the vague hope it'll help, and remarkably it seems to, settling his pounding head and roiling stomach enough that he can see straight in the midday sun. Hmm.
"Hey, Nie-xiong, when were we supposed to meet for the hunt today?"
Huaisang looks up blearily from his own breakfast and around the room, where everyone else seems to be in the middle of lunch.
"...Fuck."
Wei Ying narrowly manages to avoid falling off his sword as they fly as fast as they can toward the outskirts of the Cloud Recesses. By the time they've hastily dismounted and scrambled to join the group of gathered cultivators, Nie Huaisang's hulking older brother is glaring at them pointedly. Apparently he's the one in charge of today's outing. Wei Ying hopes tardiness isn't punishable by his terrifying beast of a saber.
"Wei Ying? Why are you..."
Wei Ying turns to see Lan Zhan looking at him with a mix of surprise and worry. He breaks into a grin, feeling the last of his not-a-hangover leave him.
"Lan Zhan! I'm here to help!" When Lan Zhan doesn't look any less confused, Wei Ying continues, "Nie-xiong invited me."
Lan Zhan looks over at Huaisang, who still looks slightly green and shaky on his feet, then back to Wei Ying.
"You have rice on your face."
Wei Ying scruffs a hand over his mouth and, sure enough, comes away with sticky white remnants of his breakfast.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’re always looking out for me.”
Lan Zhan gives him a complicated look, then turns away from him as Nie Mingjue begins addressing the whole group.
According to Nie Migjue, local farmers have been harassed by wailing spirits the last few weeks. At first, the nightly echoes of ghostly sobbing were just annoying, but recently they've been accompanied by flooded fields come morning. It's gotten bad enough the villagers banded together and called on nearby cultivation sects for help handling the problem.
From the excited muttering as they make their way towards the most recently flooded field, Wei Ying suspects half the reason Gusu Lan agreed to deploy cultivators to handle the problem was just how antsy everyone is getting cooped up in diplomatic meetings all day. It doesn't seem like a big enough issue to merit attention from a main sect, usually.
The Lans would never complain about boredom, of course, but several of the visiting Jin disciples are doing more than enough complaining to make up for them. Even Nie Mingjue gets a dazed look in his eyes when someone mentions how interminably long the latest rounds of debate over when to host upcoming discussion conferences lasted.
Wei Ying thinks that, for all wandering the world as a rogue cultivator isn't exactly easy, at least he doesn't have to sit through diplomatic meetings. He suspects half an hour of bickering sect leaders would leave him ready to jump off a cliff out of boredom.
Instead he gets to be here, watching a still-woozy Nie Huaisang stumble through the woods while he gamely tries to keep up a conversation about his latest exotic bird acquisition. Wei Ying doesn't have any particular interest in birds, exotic or otherwise, but Nie-xiong is so cute when he's excited about things, especially when he keeps having to stop to catch his breath and take a big swig of water, trying to fend off his lingering hangover.
As they walk, Lan Zhan keeps glancing over at them with an oddly intense look on his face. Wei Ying has no idea what that's about. He thinks he probably startled the man showing up this morning, but it's not like Wei Ying hasn't been night hunting with them before.
That was before the arrangement, though. Maybe Lan Zhan doesn't want to mix their lessons and his regular life? Wei Ying will have to keep that mind in the future, though he feels a flicker or regret at the thought of not getting to go night hunting with Lan Zhan again. He'd had such a good time the last time around, even before he knew the man well enough to fully appreciate his company.
"Wei-gongzi, is Lan Wangji mad at you?" Huaisang whispers to him, an hour or so into the hike. He's gotten some color back in his face, and is apparently feeling well enough to notice the odd looks Lan Zhan keeps shooting them.
"I don't think so?" Wei Ying replies.
"Do you two even know each other? Beyond our last hunt, I mean," Huaisang continues, and Wei Ying nearly chokes on the water he's just taken a drink of.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Wei Ying says, a bit too loud, when half the group turns to look at him. "Just swallowed funny!"
Wei Ying smiles brightly until everyone turns their attention back to the path in front of them.
"We've uh. We've spent a bit of time together," Wei Ying finally answers, tripping over his own words. "We ran into each other the night I got Little Apple. He helped me out!"
"Your horrible donkey? Did it bite him?" Huaisang asks, and Wei Ying squawks, taking offense on Little Apple's behalf. And a little bit on Lan Zhan's behalf, too. Lan Zhan is perfectly capable of dodging Little Apple's love bites whenever he's within range. Wei Ying has seen him do it many times!
Huaisang gives Wei Ying a long look, but drops the subject in favor of taking another long swig of water himself.
At least, Wei Ying thinks the subject's been dropped. But by the time evening has started to creep over the horizon, he realizes he and Huaisang have migrated further toward the front of the group, where Lan Zhan is walking next to Nie Mingjue, occasionally nodding in assent as Mingjue keeps up what looks like an amiably one-sided conversation.
Wei Ying tries to slow them down, give Lan Zhan a bit more space, since he clearly seems to want to keep some distance between his official cultivator duties and his time with Wei Ying. Huaisang doesn't get the hint, though, dragging Wei Ying by the wrist when he starts lagging behind and pulling him up next to Lan Zhan. He looks anxiously back and forth between his brother and Lan Zhan for a moment, then says in slightly too loud a whisper, "Ahh, I don't want to interrupt them but I have a question for my brother. Wei Ying, what should I do?"
Wei Ying doesn't get a chance to answer, as Nie Mingjue asks in a booming voice, "What is it, Huaisang?"
Lan Zhan looks over as well, staring for a long moment at the grip Huaisang has on Wei Ying's wrist. He really does look angry now. Wei Ying hunches his shoulders and tries to telegraph don't worry, I won't bother you at work vibes as hard as he can.
The next thing he knows, though, Huaisang has shoved him at Lan Zhan and instructed him to "keep Lan er-gongzi company while I steal my brother for a second!"
Wei Ying shrugs an apology and tries to figure out a professional topic of conversation for them. He's just about to ask if Lan Zhan has any thoughts on the proper techniques for disposal of wailing ghosts, when Lan Zhan says "I did not realize you and Nie Huaisang were friends."
"Oh. Yeah!" Wei Ying replies. "We knew each other when we were younger. I hadn't seen him in forever, though. Not until I ran into you all on the road that time."
"Mn," Lan Zhan says. He still sounds annoyed, and Wei Ying is starting to get annoyed in response, unsure what exactly has brought this on. He gets wanting to separate business and personal matters, but aside from showing up late and a little hungover, he's been nothing but professional this whole time.
"Lan Zhan, if you want me to go, I can..."
"We're here," Lan Zhan says, cutting Wei Ying off. In front of them Nie Mingjue and Nie Husiang have also come to a stop, and sure enough Wei Ying can see what looks like a lake in the near distance. On closer inspection, a row of sagging fencing and bedraggled plants makes it clear this was, until recently, a fertile field.
"Pair up and start searching for disturbed graves," Mingjue says firmly. "Huaisang, you can come with me."
Wei Ying gives Nie Huaisang a desperate look, but Nie Mingjue has already pulled his brother off down the road toward the east end of the flooded field. Wei Ying looks around, wondering if there's anyone else he might attach himself to, but quickly realizes everyone but he and Lan Zhan have already divided up and gotten to work.
"Ah ha, well Lan Zhan, I guess you're stuck with me."
"Mn," Lan Zhan says, and for once Wei Ying has no clue what it actually means.
"So," Wei Ying says as they squelch through nearly knee deep mud on the banks of the nearby river that has unseasonably overflowed. "How come Nie Mingjue is leading this hunt?"
He's trying to defuse the weird tension, mostly, but flinches as he realizes a moment too late this might be an uncomfortable topic of conversation. Wei Ying doesn't know enough about sect politics to know if it's a knock against Lan Zhan that a visiting disciple is leading this hunt instead of him, no matter how important (and terrifyingly large) that visiting disciple might be.
"A favor from my brother," Lan Zhan replies, and he thankfully doesn't seem offended by the question. Wei Ying lets out the breath he was holding. He doesn't particularly like being this on edge around Lan Zhan.
"A favor?"
"I... don't enjoy leading visiting disciples on hunts. My brother is close with Nie Mingjue. He knew he would enjoy taking charge."
"Ha, I bet," Wei Ying says. "He seems like the type to enjoy being in charge."
Wei Ying laces his voice with as much of a leer as he can, and congratulates himself when he sees Lan Zhan flush, his lips twitching with just a touch of amusement.
They're stomping calf deep in mud and dead millet plants, searching for the disturbed graves indicative of wailing ghosts, when Wei Ying first feels like something odd is going on here. Even as waterlogged as this field is, it shouldn't be this tiring to walk through it, but Wei Ying can already feel himself breathing heavily after an hour or so of searching.
And that's the second thing that feels off.
"Lan Zhan, don't you think someone should have found something by now?"
Wei Ying turns to scan the dark field, sees the dim shapes of their fellow pairs of cultivators lit by moonlight in the distance. No one has sent off a flare indicating they've found any graves yet, and they're running out of field to search at this point.
Lan Zhan murmurs in assent, then cuts left toward the bank of the river. That's when the wailing starts.
It's an ear splitting sound, ripping the night air and pounding through Wei Ying's head as he spins to see a ghastly figure flying at them from down the river. And that's odd as well. No one would bury a corpse this close to the shoreline. It would be washed away too quickly. Wei Ying doesn't have time to think it through any further, though, as beside him Lan Zhan goes steely-eyed and pulls his guqin out.
"Wei Ying," he says, nodding toward the field behind him. Wei Ying nods back in agreement, sends up a quick flash of spiritual energy to call for backup from the other cultivators, then pulls Suibian out of its sheath and moves to Lan Zhan's side.
They fight in tandem, Lan Zhan sending waves of musical energy out any time the ghost gets too close, and Wei Ying darting in to strike at it with Suibian. Usually a monster like this would require half a dozen cultivators to deal with safely, but even as the rest of the group arrives to join the fight, Wei Ying is starting to think they might not need it.
Maybe he and Lan Zhan are just that good. They do work together remarkably well. Wei Ying can read Lan Zhan's movements almost like they are his own, Suibian flashing in a delicate dance with the musical thrum of power coming from Lan Zhan's guqin.
At one point Wei Ying looks up to see Nie Huaisang staring at them, eyes wide, next to an equally awed young Lan cultivator.
"Ah, you two fight so well!" Huaisang cheers at them, like he's watching a particularly exciting concert and not a fight in the middle of a muddy field at midnight. Wei Ying swears he sees the young Lan disciple applaud before he turns back to the fight.
It isn't until he feels river water lapping at the bottom of his robes that Wei Ying stops to question if it's going too easily. He hadn't meant to take the fight this close to the water, and Lan Zhan wouldn't have done so either. It's not a strategically sound position.
Suibian is moving slower too, he notices with a jerk of surprise, every slash of the sword causing his arm to burn with exertion. He sees Lan Zhan stumble next to him, just slightly, but enough to make Wei Ying realize something really isn't right here.
And that's when everything goes to shit.
One moment, Wei Ying is standing side by side with Lan Zhan, about to finish off a wailing ghost in record time. The next, he feels an icy grip on his ankle, hears an ominous croaking noise bubbling up from water he's found himself standing in, and then there's a horrible squelch as he's pulled into the water.
Wei Ying can't see much under the murky surface of the river, but there's something amphibian and supernaturally large clinging to his leg, sending sharp pains up his calf as it pulls him under the rushing current. His lungs scream for air and, more horrifying still, Wei Ying thinks he sees the solid form of Lan Zhan pulled down next him.
The grip on his ankle goes tighter still, and then everything is a blur as Wei Ying is pulled downstream with alarming speed.
What feels like hours but must be only a few moments later, Wei Ying is finally, mercifully, spit out onto a rocky shore. He's so grateful for the burn of oxygen hitting his lungs that it takes a long moment to realize there's still a tight, clammy grip on his leg. Then a ghastly wail pierces the air again, just as Wei Ying looks to his left and sees a dripping wet Lan Zhan on the ground next to him.
Wei Ying tries to scramble away from the spirit clinging to his leg, but it feels like he's trying to move through quicksand. He watches as the spirit shivers, its form shifting as moonlight hits it, away from the white image of a wailing spirit into something much... slimier.
"Lan Zhan, are you..." Wei Ying starts, and watches in relief as Lan Zhan pushes himself up from the ground. He's moving slowly, too, but he's awake at least. Small victories.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan yells as he strains to draw Bichen. Wei Ying kicks up and scrambles back with as much force as he can muster, just as Lan Zhan brings his sword down on the creature.
There's a sick squelch, and the illusion drops completely, leaving the writhing, half dead corpse of a bug-eyed creature, a mess of slime and grasping, toad-like limbs.
"Knew it," Wei Ying says. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but his ankle is free now at least. He pushes himself to his feet and drives Suibian into the collapsed form of the yaoguai lying half dead at his feet. Watches as it spasms, then goes still.
"That must have been running free for a long time, to get this powerful," Wei Ying says. He scrunches his nose at the smell as he wipes slime and blood off Suibian's blade.
He'd thought something was wrong when the wailing ghost had first attacked. The toad yaoguai lying dead in front of them makes much more sense. Wei Ying has seen this before, shape-shifting demons that feed off spiritual energy. They can get clever about finding new ways to feed, but they're usually pretty harmless as long as you take care of them quickly.
This one must have been running unchecked for months to absorb enough spiritual energy to flood entire fields. It's a dangerous oversight, and Wei Ying wonders how it had gone under the radar of the nearby major sects for so long.
From the annoyed look on Lan Zhan's face next to him, he's wondering the same thing.
"Ah well, it's dead now. Lan Zhan, want to get out of here and see how far we got knocked downstream?"
Wei Ying walks toward the entrance to the cove they've washed up in, and is promptly knocked to his butt by a wall of spiritual energy.
"Ah ha ha, that was weird," Wei Ying laughs, a bit too loudly. He tries to push himself to his feet, but almost immediately falls down a second time, this time thanks to the shooting pain lancing up his right leg.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says and turns on him with fierce eyes.
"I'm fine! There's just something..." this time Wei Ying forces himself to ignore the flare of pain and gets to his feet, inching forward slowly until something invisible but very solid stops his progress. "There's something blocking the way."
Lan Zhan continues to stare at him for a moment, then turns toward the invisible wall. He uses a finger to outline a quick, complicated character in the air, then there is a shower of blue sparks lighting up the entrance to the cave.
"What's that?" Wei Ying asks, hiding a wince as another jolt of pain shoots up his side. Possibly he should check that out at some point. Maybe he can get away from Lan Zhan long enough to take a look without getting fussed over.
"Shielding ward," Lan Zhan says, and dispels the sparks with a wave of his hand.
"To… keep us in?"
"To keep us out," Lan Zhan replies.
"Pretty shitty shielding ward," Wei Ying says, waiving to indicate just how not out they are being kept. "Why is it here?"
"Local sects will ward caves like this," Lan Zhan says, turning back to Wei Ying finally, "to keep civilians from wandering in and getting trapped at high tide."
"And we get out by..."
"It takes a concentrated burst of spiritual energy to get through," Lan Zhan says, and that explains a lot. They both would have been sending off more than enough spiritual energy trying to fight off the yaoguai when they were dragged in here.
"So we just need another burst of spiritual energy to get out, right?" Wei Ying asks, and turns to blast the barrier apart so he can get out of here and tend to whatever happened to his leg in peace.
"Wei Ying, lift your sword," Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying frowns in confusion at the non-sequitur, then goes to lift Suibian.
It feels like he is trying to lift a bag of wet sand. A big bag.
"Fuck. Why is it so heavy?" Wei Ying asks, mostly to himself.
"Trickster demons sap spiritual energy."
And, right. Wei Ying knew that. He just hadn't thought through the part where it would be sapping his energy. That explains why searching the field had felt like walking through quicksand, and why he'd been dragged underwater so easily tonight. Wei Ying feels his leg shake under him again and has to catch himself before he falls on his ass a third time.
"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan is there, one arm around his waist. "Show me your leg."
"Lan Zhan, it's hardly the place!" Wei Ying says, aiming for lecherous but mostly ending up at exhausted. He can feel it now. The sluggish churn of his golden core. The pulse of spiritual energy in him more of a trickle than a flow. He lets Lan Zhan guide him to the ground, then pull back his robes and, gently, take off his right boot.
There's a curling line of unearthly green that definitely wasn't there this morning. It snakes down from where Wei Ying's robes are bunched up around his thighs, circling his knee and continuing down his calf to where they end in the greenish bruise outlining where the yaoguai had gripped his ankle.
Wei Ying winces as Lan Zhan reaches out to touch the hand print. Even his carefully light touch sends pain shooting up his leg, well past the bruising he's still nursing from his last night hunt.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says sharply. Wei Ying tries to smile and avoid eye contact, but he suspects he isn't acting particularly well today, because the next moment Lan Zhan is kneeling in front of him, pulling Wei Ying's robes up higher and his ripped trousers aside to get a closer look at the injury.
"Want me to take them off for you?" Wei Ying asks, because if he's stuck being mother henned by Lan Zhan, he might as well get it done quickly. And his over-robes are only getting in the way at this point.
Wei Ying bites back a yelp of pain when Lan Zhan's hands clench on his leg at the question.
"C'mon Lan Zhan, it's nothing you haven't seen before, right?" Wei Ying teases, but it's more than a little bit to remind himself of that fact as well. "We might have to cut it though. Not sure I can get out of all this without hurting myself more."
Lan Zhan straightens his spine, then gives the damp fabric of Wei Ying's robes a sharp jerk, cloth ripping easily in his hands.
Wei Ying shivers under Lan Zhan's surprisingly gentle touch. Tries to convince himself it's the cold cave air, his damp robes, anything but the lump that's settling in his stomach at being such a singular focus of Lan Zhan's attention.
"Wei Ying, this bruising is older."
Wei Ying looks down and realizes Lan Zhan has reached his old injury, from the night he ran into the Wens.
"It's nothing," Wei Ying says. Usually it would have healed by now, but Wei Ying had been busy in the days since. Hadn't, if he is honest with himself, given his core a real chance to patch him up. He can sleep when he’s dead, right?
"Another night hunt?" Lan Zhan asks, but Wei Ying doesn't think it's really a question. He shrugs in response.
"Gotta pay the bills somehow, right?"
"Is it necessary to go so often?" Lan zhan asks, voice careful. Controlled in a way that raises Wei Ying's hackles.
"There's not a lot of money in night hunting," he says, trying to keep himself from sounding petulant and not particularly succeeding.
"I could..." Lan Zhan starts, but Wei Ying cuts him off before he can make an offer they'll both regret.
"No." Lan Zhan looks like he's going to argue, so Wei Ying continues. "I don't want your money. You're teaching me, that's a fair deal. Lay off it, Lan Zhan."
Wei Ying hadn’t wanted his money before, when he only felt guilty about getting some good sex out of their bargain. Now that he's, well, that he’s trying to forget all the other things he feels about Lan Zhan, the thought of taking the man's money makes it feel like Wei Ying’s golden core is trying to crawl out of his chest.
Lan Zhan looks like he's fighting the urge to continue the argument. He must lose, because a moment later he looks up with annoyance and says "You're being difficult, Wei Ying."
Wei Ying narrows his eyes. Because god, Lan Zhan has been blowing hot and cold all night, no matter how hard Wei Ying tried to smooth things over, and suddenly he's just sick of it. Sick of getting scolded. Condescended to. Reminded that he's never going to be good enough for Lan Zhan. Not well born or well connected or well behaved enough to be worthy of Lan Wangji, the Second Jade of Lan.
"It’s not like you proper cultivators care that much about handling things like this. Would you all have even bothered with this if you weren’t feeling bored this week?"
Wei Ying waves toward the remnants of the toad demon. He sees Lan Zhan flinch, just slightly, and knows he’s landed a hit.
Wei Ying stands up, ignores the hot jolt of pain up his side, and stomps toward the invisible barrier again. Flicks as big a blast of energy as he can muster at it, then scowls when it bounces off harmlessly.
"Wei Ying."
He tries again, this time the flash of energy even more pathetically small.
"Wei Ying!"
His third attempt doesn't even make it to the barrier. Fizzles out on the tip of his fingers.
"Wei Ying. Stop."
"I'm fine," Wei Ying shouts back, just as his vision swims, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. He quits trying to break the barrier. Because he wants to. Not because his legs are about to give out under him. On the other side of the cove, Lan Zhan goes silent.
“So we’re just going to die here, then?” Wei Ying spits out after a long moment, staring furiously at the invisible wall keeping him trapped in here.
“No.”
“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t reached immortality yet, and even if I had I wouldn’t want to spend it in a shitty cave next to a rotting frog corpse.”
“Wei Ying. We are going to rest and resume our attempts in the morning, once our spiritual energy has replenished.”
“Oh.”
Wei Ying suspects he would have made that connection if he weren’t quite so tired. He can feel his golden core stuttering within him, draining his stamina as it fights to rebuild the spiritual energy that had been leached out during their fight. He feels the anger go out of him almost as quickly as it entered, leaving him just. Drained. Mind blank and body so tired he almost can't lower himself to the ground.
He manages it though, slumping down on a hard outcropping of rock across from Lan Zhan, who is holding an annoyingly perfect meditation pose. Wei Ying lasts about ten minutes before he starts nodding off, despite the damp and the hard shale beneath him.
Time starts to slip in fits and starts, until Wei Ying startles awake, catching himself just before he tips head first off his perch. A moment later, a warm body is next to him, arm tight and steadying around his waist.
"I'm fine, Lan Zhan. Go back to finding enlightenment or whatever."
"Wei Ying."
Lan Zhan's tone isn't open for argument, and Wei Ying is too exhausted to push back anyway. Instead, he lets himself slump into the crook of Lan Zhan's neck and nod off, the steady beat of Lan Zhan's pulse under him lulling him to sleep.
Wei Ying wakes to the gentle filter of sunlight reflecting off nearby water. Blinks himself to consciousness and realizes he’s still tucked into the curve of Lan Zhan’s neck. He doesn’t know exactly what time it is, but it’s light enough that Lan Zhan must have been up for hours by now. His internal clock is a natural wonder.
Lan Zhan clears his throat gently, and then Wei Ying hears a soft laugh in the distance.
He looks up to see Nie Huaisang standing just outside the invisible barrier, grin on his face, hand raised in a small wave.
“Hi Wei-gongzi. We found you!”
Wei Ying notices the group of cultivators behind Huaisang, peering into the cove with undisguised interest. He tries to pull away from Lan Zhan, but the arm around Wei Ying’s waist tightens, holding him in place.
“There’s a sealing ward,” Lan Zhan says, for all the world like he’s not currently spooning Wei Ying in front of a group of the cultivation world’s young elite.
A moment later Huaisang has brought down the ward with a hiss and flash of blue light. Then, suddenly, Wei Ying feels the ground disappear below his feet as Lan Zhan stands, still holding him in his arms.
Wei Ying yelps in shock. “I can walk, Lan Zhan! Put me down!”
“You’re injured,” Lan Zhan replies, as though that settles things.
“I’m not dying! Oh my god!” Wei Ying whines, but he’s still too exhausted to really put up a fight. Instead he shuts his eyes as tightly as he can and pretends he can’t hear Nie Huaisang laughing behind him.
Lan Zhan carries him all the way out of the cave, until they are far enough out of the forest to take to their swords. Even then, he manhandles Wei Ying onto Bichen, holding him tightly as they fly toward Caiyi, leaving the rest of the group to head back to the Cloud Recesses.
Wei Ying has to admit defeat by the time he’s being led through the inn’s back entrance, blinking with exhaustion as Lan Zhan opens his door and guides him into bed. He takes off Wei Ying’s boots, movements precise and careful, then pours him a glass of water and watches as he drinks the entire thing.
“You need rest to heal.”
Wei Ying scrunches up his nose at the words, but knows he’s too tired to resist at this point. He tugs at Lan Zhan’s sleeve, though, an act of defiance as he fights off fast-approaching sleep.
Lan Zhan doesn’t return Wei Ying’s half-conscious attempt at a kiss, though. Turns away and focuses on tucking the thin blanket in around him.
“Sleep, Wei Ying.”
He lets his eyes fall shut, too tired to protest any longer, and isn’t sure if the music he hears — oddly familiar, tugging at the back of his mind — is real or a dream. They haven't scheduled a next lesson, Wei Ying realizes as he drifts into sleep. He tries not to think about it too hard.
---
Lan Zhan is overwhelmed with sect work the next few days. He rises at five every morning, the same as always. Eats a simple breakfast in silence as the sun stretches over the horizon, throwing a rosy glow over the pristine white of the Cloud recesses. Drinks the tea Gusu Lan's healers have given him to help restore his spiritual energy, and doesn't even flinch at the harsh, bitter taste. After that, every waking hour is somehow filled with teachers who need his help overseeing classes, tiresome requests from visiting sect leaders and cultivators, long meetings with Lan sect elders hashing and rehashing decisions they should have settled long ago. At the very least there's no time for meeting with suitors, a small mercy, but for all he's too busy to sit some days, Lan Zhan also finds himself. Distracted.
His thoughts keep slipping during his daily meditation, away from the cool air and gentle scent of sandalwood incense, back to the memory of brackish water. Of Wei Ying’s weight, heavy against his shoulder, incongruously comforting in the face of an impenetrable ward and the decaying body of a toad demon at their feet.
He goes to bed exhausted every night, but even that can't stop his mind from slipping towards images of Wei Ying, face tight with exhaustion and anger Lan Zhan doesn't know how to respond to. Couldn't handle then, and doesn't want to wrap his mind around now.
It's when he sits down to practice guqin, finally finding a few hours to himself after several days of endless meetings and classes and unnecessary checkups by the Lan healers, that Lan Zhan finally acknowledges what his mind has been dancing around ever since they'd faced down the toad spirit.
He'd been... unkind to Wei Ying. Lan Zhan carefully begins to work through simple exercises, as he lets the thought settle into his chest. Recognizes the truth behind it, even as his fingers fly across strings, easy as breathing.
He’d been surprised to see Wei Ying appear that day, even more surprised that he was at Nie Huaisang’s side. Shocked by how obvious it was the pair had been up irresponsibly late, doing whatever it is young men do when they’re looking to have fun. How they'd still been sweating out the last of whatever they drank the night before.
Lan Zhan moves on to a more complicated piece he’s been trying to master lately, channels small amounts of spiritual energy into the notes, just enough to test his limits without setting back his recovery. His fingers stumble when he remembers the look Wei Ying had given him in the dark of the cave. Angry, but more than that, confused.
Lan Zhan feels his hands move before his mind knows what he’s doing. Feels the piece he’s supposed to be practicing morph into the song that keeps coming to him, unbidden these days. Just a few measures, so far, tentative and new and raw enough that he sometimes thinks he could choke on it.
He slaps his palm on the guqin, muffling the strings and leaving the room silent except for the rapid thrum of his own heart. Reluctantly, he admits he’s not going to get much practicing done today.
He’d told himself it was irresponsible, is the thing. That Wei Ying was too talented, too good a cultivator to be wasting his time with the likes of Nie Huaisang. (Like a dead fish, he remembers, then shoves that thought away as quickly as it arrives.)
He’d been annoyed and self-righteous about their rule-breaking, as though Lan Zhan hasn’t bought Wei Ying more than enough alcohol himself now. As though he doesn’t delight in how Wei Ying lights up every time he presents him a bottle of Emperor's Smile. As though Lan Zhan hasn't broken curfew more times than he cares to think about, tucked up against Wei Ying in his tiny room in Caiyi, talking about nothing particularly responsible at all.
He should make it up to Wei Ying, Lan Zhan thinks with a curt nod. He needs to teach him how to use his new dizi, after all. Perhaps Wei Ying would consider that an appropriate apology.
Lan Zhan meets his uncle that afternoon, mind still full of plans for introducing Wei Ying to the basics of the dizi. He wonders if Wei Ying will be as quick to learn this as he has been the fundamentals of cultivation. They might be able to move on to musical cultivation quickly, if so, something that usually takes young Lan disciples months of practice to be prepared to start learning.
He wants to begin as soon as possible, now that he's come up with a plan. It’s been nearly a week since they escaped the toad spirit and the warded cave, and Lan Zhan has been so overscheduled that he hasn’t been able to get to Caiyi to see Wei Ying again. Has, in truth, been somewhat worried if he would still be welcome there.
His Uncle is droning on about something — the importance of instilling proper discipline and planning in the young disciples, probably, though it’s possible he’s moved on to a new topic at this point. Lan Zhan, in a rare display of disobedience, is finding it impossible to focus on the details of their conversation. His brain has moved on from worrying about just how long it's been since he saw Wei Ying to running through all the things that could have gone wrong over the past five days. What if Wei Ying hasn’t tended to his injury correctly? What if he isn’t getting enough rest? What if he’s been attacked in his sleep by a fierce corpse?
Lan Zhan knows that the chance of a fierce corpse wandering into the center of Caiyi, making its way into the back rooms of a busy inn, and then attacking Wei Ying in his sleep is. Low. The voice in the back of his head is not listening to reason at the moment, though. Lan Zhan will have to add more time to his meditation tonight, if his self control has slipped this much.
“Wangji.”
Lan Zhan blinks up at his uncle and realizes he has no idea what the man just said. Slipping self control indeed.
“My apologies, Uncle,” Lan Zhan says with a deferential nod of his head.
Lan Qiren takes a sip of his tea, the movement somehow both elegant and annoyed.
"This is unlike you, Wangi," he says. His uncle's tone is steady, but there's an underlying current of anger and, even further down, worry, that Lan Zhan has had years to learn to recognize.
"If you would explain again," Lan Zhan says with a polite nod of his head, “I will listen with more care in the future.”
He finds he means it sincerely. He doesn't want to worry his uncle or his brother, and knows he has these past few days. Possibly months, if he's being honest. A dutiful brother and nephew would recommit himself to the betrothal process, but Lan Zhan finds the thought of any serious moves towards engagement. Unpleasant. At least for now. He will give himself more time to become accustomed to the idea. To commit himself fully to a hypothetical marriage and spouse, once he feels fully prepared. But until then, he can at the least be conscientious about his sect duties.
To start, the night hunts his uncle is discussing are important. Wei Ying was right the other day — there are too many nearby villages and farms left unprotected by sect cultivators who think they are above handling such minor troubles.
Lan Zhan begins drawing up a schedule that will spread the Lan disciples, at the least, out to places that most need their help, even if it will provide little in the way of political gain or renown. Then he heads out towards Caiyi. They haven’t planned another meeting yet, but Lan Zhan finds he doesn't want to wait for a message to travel back and forth between them. Just carefully puts the music he has copied from the library into his bag next to his guqin and heads out. Perhaps the music will convince Wei Ying that today is a good day for a lesson as any, and Lan Zhan might be able to sneak a song of healing into the afternoon, too, if he can get Wei Ying to sit still long enough.
But Wei Ying is gone when he gets to Caiyi.
---
Wei Ying packs up Little Apple and heads out on the road again just under a week after the night hunt incident. It's probably too soon, given his recent injuries and just how fucking tired he is, all the time, these days. (Lan Zhan would say it's definitely too soon, and possibly lock Wei Ying in his room at that, which is why Wei Ying doesn't tell him what he's up to.)
He wasn't lying about needing the money, though. Wiping down tables and serving alcohol to drunk patrons keeps him in room and board, but night hunting is his best method of replenishing the silver that always seems to go out faster than it comes in.
He's moving slowly tonight, though. His leg might be pretty much healed from the toad spirit’s attack (No really, he tells his internal Lan Zhan, it's all fine! You can hardly even make out the scar anymore, see?) but it's still stiff and sore, twinging as Little Apple jostles it with every step.
Wei Ying fiddles with his new dizi as little apple trods slowly down the road. He can't pick out much beyond a few simple notes at this point, but he’d been meaning to ask Lan Zhan to teach him something easy at their next lesson. He’s not sure when that will be, now. If that will be, he very firmly doesn’t think.
Little Apple nips at his elbow after just a few tentative notes, so Wei Ying stops trying to badly play the flute in favor of scolding Little Apple for not appreciating quality music when he hears it.
An hour outside of Caiyi, Wei Ying is starting to think that maybe the little Lan Zhan on his shoulder scolding him about taking it easy was right. The promise of his own bed tonight, and the half a bottle of Emperor's Smile left over from the last time Lan Zhan spent the night, are getting more tempting with every passing minute. He's about to give in and turn little Apple around when he hears the first scream.
It's an unearthly sound, guttural and demonic, cutting through the night sky with supernatural clarity. Jiangshi, Wei Ying thinks. Or possibly a forest spirit sick on demonic energy. Either way, it seems as though the night hunt has come to Wei Ying. There are villagers nearby, he knows, and he cannot let whatever is rattling his brain with noise right now run free. That's when he hears the second scream.
This one is human. Distressingly so, and coming from the same direction as the monster. Wei Ying is off Little Apple's back in a heartbeat, running with no concern for his aching leg. If one of the villagers has gotten themselves cornered, he doesn't have much time to intervene. Maybe no time.
But when he cuts through the trees the figure he sees isn't a villager, though it is horrifyingly familiar. For a moment, Wei Ying feels his heart stop in his chest, thinking that's Lan Zhan struggling to fight off the towering form of a raging jiangshi. Just as quickly, his brain catches up with him, and even as he's unsheathing Suibian and racing forward Wei Ying notices the subtle differences. Slimmer shoulders, unfamiliar eyes, and that's not Bichen the man is holding one handed while he clutches a bleeding wound in his side with the other.
Wei Ying brings his blade down on the jiangshi's neck just as it lunges towards Lan Xichen once more.
The man blinks, as the head of the corpse attacking him falls harmlessly to the side, its body sinking the other direction. The monster’s sickly green skin reflects the moonlight above as it lies, silent and unmoving, on the forest floor.
"Got yourself into some trouble?" Wei Ying asks. He carefully wipes the remnants of the jiangshi's rotting flesh off Suibian, using a corner of the body's own half decayed robes, before he re-sheaths the sword and looks up at Xichen's pale face.
"Where did..." the man starts, before he seems to catch himself.
"Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian," Wei Ying says as politely as he is able. He hasn't met Lan Zhan's brother before, but he assumes the man is as big a stickler for rules as the rest of his sect. Lan Xichen looks like he's having a pretty rough night of it, and Wei Ying figures observing the niceties might be a kindness at this point.
Lan Xichen gathers himself, managing to look collected and imposing despite his dirt streaked face and the spread of blood darkening the robes just under his ribs. Lans, Wei Ying thinks as the man introduces himself with an aborted bow and a mostly hidden wince.
"Was that you screaming just now?" Wei Ying asks, because he wouldn't have guessed the first Jade of Lan would have that high-pitched a voice, but who is he to judge. Sure enough, though, Lan Xichen turns and indicates a shadowy patch of brush a short ways away, and suddenly Wei Ying can see a small face poking out from behind the leaves.
"And who are you?" Wei Ying asks, letting his voice go soft and moving slowly, carefully, towards the small figure. As he approaches, he sees it's a young boy, maybe eight or nine years old if Wei Ying had to guess. He looks nervous, but unharmed.
“Xi... Xiao Su...” the boy stammers, eyes darting from the jiangshi corpse to Suibian, hanging at Wei Ying’s hip.
“Ahh, you were so brave, Xiao Su,” Wei Ying says. He moves his hand away from Suibian, holds his hands up, carefully casual and as unthreatening as possible. “Smart of you to stay behind the Great Lan Xichen. He’s very powerful and righteous.”
The boy looks back at Xichen, and something in his face seems to settle. One of the benefits of that upright Lan posture, Wei Ying thinks with a smirk. People assume you have good intentions with a spine that straight.
“Do you live around here, A-Su?” Wei Ying continues, and the boy turns back, looking much less afraid now. He gives a quick nod toward the east, where Wei Ying can see the distant lights of a farmhouse.
“Can you make it back yourself? We’ll watch you until you’re home safe, okay?”
The boy nods, more determined than scared now which, good, Wei Ying thinks. Hopefully he’ll think of this as an adventure in the future, instead of fuel for nightmares. The boy turns and darts off. Wei Ying watches his retreating back until it disappears into the safety of the house's soft warm glow. Then he turns back towards Lan Xichen and claps his hands.
"So! Can you make it back to Cloud Recesses on your own?"
And that's when Xichen crumbles to the ground.
Wei Ying ignores the shooting pain in his leg as he drags Xichen onto Little Apple’s back. The donkey complains at first, but goes silent remarkably quickly. Possibly the beast just likes Lans in general.
Wei Ying would laugh about it if he weren’t busy trying to drag enough air into his lungs to pull himself up the steep road to the Cloud Recesses as quickly as possible without letting the unconscious Lan Xichen fall off his donkey’s back.
There’s a moment of confusion when he reaches the gate, the guards drawing their swords immediately at the sight of Xichen’s collapsed form. Wei Ying has to practically yell that there isn’t time for questions or permissions before the guards finally let him through, one dogging his heels and another leading the way to what Wei Ying sincerely hopes is some sort of medical professional.
“Go get Lan Wangji,” Wei Ying hisses at the third guard, who looks confused at first until the first guard nods and sends him away.
Wei Ying isn’t entirely sure why he wants Lan Zhan so badly right now, except that he might be able to convince these guards that Wei Ying hasn’t murdered their first young master. Possibly.
Wei Ying isn’t sure about how Lan Zhan will react, actually. Not only is this proof positive Wei Ying has been out night hunting against his advice, but he’s shown up dragging his unconscious brother on donkey back with no real answers as to why other than “I was too stupid to check if he was cursed until he passed out on my watch.”
The first person who shows up isn’t Wangji, though. They get to a medical pavilion and meet a physician who, from how deeply the guards who escorted them bow, must be incredibly well-respected within the Lan Sect.
Good, Wei Ying thinks as he watches them navigate Lan Xichen’s limp form over to bed and the physician gets to work. Not that he thought the First Jade of Lan would warrant anything less, but he’s still feeling shaky from the man’s sudden collapse and the painful run to the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying’s leg twinges under him, just as the hush of the doctor at work is interrupted by a furious bark for someone to explain what is happening.
Wei Ying looks up to see a cross-looking man with a long beard and the deportment of someone in charge looking straight at him, clearly wanting answers for why a road-worn rogue cultivator has wound up in the Cloud Recesses in the middle of the night with an unconscious Lan Xichen in tow.
“Shifu,” the physician says with a low bow, then returns to his work. Ah, that explains a lot.
“What have you done to my nephew,” Lan Qiren barks again. It sounds like a yell, despite his voice never rising above a low rumble.
“I’d tell you to ask the jiangshi that attacked him, but I already chopped off its head so...” Wei Ying says, because he’s never had a sense of self-preservation and his brain refuses to let him start now. Not in the middle of the night with his leg shaking with pain under him and the acting leader of the Lan Sect staring him down like he personally murdered his nephew.
Sometimes Wei Ying wishes his brain was less stuck in its ways.
“And who are you?” Lan Qiren asks, his eyes burning.
“Wei Wuxian, at your service,” Wei Ying responds, and there’s a flash of recognition across the man’s face. Wei Ying doesn’t bow as low as decorum probably requires, in part because of the all-too-familiar furrow in Lan Qiren’s brow, in part because he’s worried if he leans too far forward he’ll keep on going and wind up face first on the floor. His leg is really throbbing now, and he’d rather stay upright if at all possible.
The look of recognition morphs on Lan Qiren’s face, moving from the typical scandalized to something somehow softer and more horrified. Wei Ying doesn’t know what to make of it, but a moment later the man has straightened himself, familiar glare back in place, and Wei Ying can write it off as a quirk of his overtired brain.
“Out. Now.”
Wei Ying gives a look toward the still unconscious Xichen, but he’s being cared for by what is, presumably, the best doctor in all of Gusu. There’s nothing he can do to help at this point.
“You got it,” Wei Yin says with a half salute, then turns to gather his bag and leave. He stumbles over his own feet in the process, just slightly but as sure a sign as any that he should really get back to his own bed as soon as possible, when suddenly he hears another person enter the room, footsteps just slow enough to not be considered running.
“He will stay.”
Wei Ying looks up at Lan Zhan standing in the infirmary door. Wei Ying had asked for his escort to call for him, after all. It shouldn’t be so shocking to see the man actually show up. And yet... Wei Ying almost trips over his own feet again as his brain catches up with Lan Zhan’s words.
“Stay?” Wei Ying points vaguely to himself. “Me?”
Lan Zhan appears to have forgiven Wei Ying, at least, or possibly forgotten about their argument altogether. So that’s good.
“Please also examine Wei-gongzi,” Lan Zhan says, turning toward the physician. Wei Ying isn’t sure who’s more shocked, him or Lan Zhan’s uncle. Neither of them is hiding their bafflement particularly well, which makes for a very funny look on Lan Qiren’s face. Wei Ying has to stifle a laugh, which turns into a sort of half-choke and makes Lan Zhan look even more worried.
“I’m fine! I barely got hit!” Wei Ying says, both to Lan Zhan and the physician who has turned towards him and seems ready to start an examination. Like Wei Ying’s stupid leg injury is worth the time of the Cloud Recesses’ head physician.
“He was already injured prior to tonight,” Lan Zhan says, and ah. He hasn’t forgotten after all. Perhaps he’s just decided it’s not worth the fight any longer.
“Wei-gongzi,” the physician says, and Wei Ying feels himself starting to flush at the overly polite way the man gestures to a second bed nearby. “If you would allow me to take a look.”
“But... Lan-gonzi...” Wei Ying says, looking over at Xichen, confused.
“He is stable for the moment, thanks in large part to your quick response,” the physician says with a grateful bow Wei Ying doesn’t feel he deserves. “I can take a look at you now, Young Master.”
Wei Ying can feel Lan Zhan’s eyes on him, and at this point he’s so tired he suspects he wouldn’t make it back to Caiyi even if he could escape without an exam. With a sigh of resignation, he plops down on the bed and hikes up his robes, daring the room at large to remark on his lack of propriety. Sure enough, there’s a huff of annoyance from the direction of Lan Zhan’s uncle, but Lan Zhan himself doesn’t react. Wei Ying hides a wince as the doctor prods carefully at the bloom of bruise and still healing cuts covering his knee and thigh.
“Wangji, come. It’s late,” Lan Qiren says, turning to leave.
“I will stay,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying has to hide another laugh. He suspects anyone who hasn’t spent a significant amount of time with Lan Zhan wouldn’t hear the bite of petulance in his voice, but to Wei Ying it’s clear as day. He thinks it is to Lan Qiren as well, if his aggrieved sigh is any indication.
“Someone should be here when my brother wakes up,” Lan Zhan continues. He’s not looking at Xichen, though.
Wei Ying thinks he should react to this somehow, but the physician is sending a slow stream of energy into his leg, speeding up the healing and calming the burn of pain shooting up and down his thigh, and suddenly he’s hit with the wave of exhaustion he’s been fighting off all night.
“You can sleep,” he hears Lan Zhan say softly, and Wei Ying blinks muzzily at the fuzzy outline of his bright white figure before slipping into darkness.
---
Wei Ying wakes up to an unfamiliar bed and a too-bright burst of sun over his face. He’s not too worried — he’s slept rough often enough on night hunts or when travelling to a new town that waking up somewhere unfamiliar is pretty normal by now. The warm weight of someone’s hand on his is new, though. It takes him a moment to blink awake enough to recognize Lan Zhan, listing gently to the side of a chair next to Wei Ying’s bed, one arm outstretched to hold onto Wei Ying.
Right. Wei Ying had come to cloud recesses last night, dragging Lan Zhan’s unconscious brother and his own injured self to impose on their medical facilities. Apparently Lan Zhan had spent the night here. Holding Wei Ying’s hand.
Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan’s elegant wrist and the long line of his fingers, all fully, terribly familiar to him at this point, and attempts to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat.
It’s been a long time since he has woken to anyone next to him. Longer still since someone stayed with him all night out of concern over his health. Not since he was nine years old and Yanli had sat by his side for hours, risking Madam Yu’s ire, to nurse him through a particularly nasty fever.
A decade later here he is, lying on crisp Cloud Recesses linen, with Lan Zhan’s sleeping form next to him.
Wei Ying realizes, between one heartbeat and the next, that he is absolutely fucked.
He slowly moves his hand over, tangles his fingers with Lan Zhan’s, and contemplates the mess he finds himself in.
Problem one: Wei Ying is head over heels in love and going to absolutely die about it. He thought he could let things trail off. Perhaps Lan Zhan was ready, anyway, after their non-fight in the cave. But he can't now.
Which leads to problem two: Lan Zhan is going to get married to an upstanding cultivator. Is going to make a good match for his sect, because Lan Zhan is a devoted son and nephew, and you’d have to be stupid not to want to marry him. Just look at how many suitors are clamoring to the Cloud Recesses from every corner of the world looking to make a match.
He watches as Lan Zhan blinks awake. Rights himself in his chair, spine going straight as always, but doesn’t let go of Wei Ying’s hand.
Wei Ying finally, finally has to admit to himself that he’s not going to be okay when Lan Zhan finally moves on. Knows it's going to hurt all the more when it finally ends. But he also knows he has no self control, so he’s going to cling to this while he can. He just needs to find more things he can teach Lan Zhan, to make it last as long as possible.
“Morning sunshine,” Wei Ying says finally, after letting himself indulge in several long moments of hand holding. “That chair comfortable?”
Lan Zhan hums in response, which Wei Ying takes to mean “absolutely not, but you don’t know me at all if you think I’ll admit to it.” He laughs softly, then a bit louder when Lan Zhan cracks the slightest hint of a smile.
“Ah, Wei-gongzi is still here?”
Lan Zhan removes his hand from Wei Ying’s suddenly, as they both turn to see Lan Xichen sitting up on the other side of the room. Right, Wei Ying thinks. There was another person here last night, wasn’t there.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan says before picking himself out of his chair and moving efficiently over to his brother’s side.
“Ah, your healers took pity on me and bandaged up a few little scratches last night,” Wei Ying says, trying his best to sound like he hasn’t just spent the night just clinging to Xichen’s baby brother’s hand.
“Not little,” Lan Zhan says from where he is methodically unwrapping Xichen’s bandages to examine his injury. The adorable mother hen.
“Are you feeling better?” Wei Ying asks, cutting Lan Zhan off before he can say anything else. “I’m sorry for missing how serious your injury was last night.”
Wei Ying still feels guilty over it. He should have recognized the curse mark for what it was. Should have insisted on checking it out, instead of assuming the man was in any shape to assess his own health. It’s a real shock when Xichen smiles kindly and nods his head in as much of a bow as his bandaged torso will allow.
“I believe I’m the one who owes you an apology. I promise I usually try to avoid falling unconscious on people I’ve just met. Thank you for bringing me here.”
Xichen pushes himself into a sitting position, gamely ignoring Lan Zhan’s small frown as he pokes at fading remnants of the curse mark.
“What’s the verdict, Wangji?”
“The physician did an acceptable job,” Lan Zhan says as he finishes re-wrapping the bandages with careful, precise movements.
“Mn,” Xichen hums, his eyes flashing with something shockingly like laughter in Wei Ying’s direction.
“I should go,” Wei Ying says, ducking away from the eye contact and pushing himself off the bed. He tentatively puts some weight on his injured leg and is pleased to find that, while it’s still stiff, the pain from before has largely vanished. An acceptable job indeed.
Lan Zhan turns and looks like he’s about to argue, but it’s not like Wei Ying can take up permanent residency in the Cloud Recesses medical ward, after all. Xichen seems to agree, because he beats Wei Ying to the punch, smiling as he says, “Why don’t you walk Wei-gongzi out, Wangji?”
Lan Zhan looks at his brother for a long moment, and Wei Ying wonders what exactly is passing between them unspoken, but then Lan Zhan is nodding curtly and moving toward Wei Ying. He doesn’t take his hand again, but he does stand just a bit too close as Wei Ying gathers up Suibian and his bag and heads out of the room.
They find where Little Apple has been tied up in the Cloud Recesses’ stables (She apparently set the entire place into an uproar that morning, if the harried stable boys are to be believed. Wei Ying is just glad she hasn’t bitten anyone, as far as he can tell.) then walk together toward the main road to Caiyi.
Wei Ying hadn’t gotten a good look at the place last night, in the dark and the rush to get Xichen to help, but it doesn’t seem to have changed much since he was here as a child. Still unnaturally pristine, as beautiful as it is rigid. It both explains a lot about Lan Zhan, and makes the things Wei Ying has learned about him during their time together — the passion and protectiveness and absolutely absurd judgemental streak that pops up at the most hilarious moments — all the more surprising. Wei Ying is struck by just how glad he is to have gotten to see those parts of Lan Zhan, even briefly.
“I will be by tomorrow,” Lan Zhan says, as they reach the gate marking the boundaries of the Cloud Recesses. It’s only half a question.
“For lessons, or to make sure I don’t get myself hurt again?” Wei Ying asks.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan hums, which means yes, to both.
“See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying responds, and grins as he slings a leg over Little Apple and pulls himself into the donkey’s saddle. He’s not going to turn down a chance to steal a bit more of Lan Zhan’s time. Not now.
---
Lan Zhan brings his brother lunch in the infirmary later that day. They eat together in silence, as always, but the moment the last of their food is finished Xichen’s eyes flash and he begins asking a string of pointed questions about the Young Master Wei.
Lan Zhan straightens his back and answers with as few words as he is able. Yes, Wei Wuxian is an impressive young cultivator. No, Lan Zhan will not be heading to Caiyi this afternoon. He has a meeting scheduled with the same insufferable Jin cousin from the other week. Lan Zhan doesn’t say the last part of that, of course, but he suspects his brother can hear it in his voice.
“If you wish to delay today’s meeting, I am certain we can do so without causing offense. You had a long night, after all.” Xichen says, and Lan Zhan has to fight to keep his face free from visible confusion. It’s one thing for his brother to tease him about making friends. That’s familiar, if as annoying as ever, but surely Xichen knows how important the matchmaking process is.
Xichen’s half smile and suggestion that Lan Zhan skip out on his responsibilities for the day are only adding to his own confusion over the whole process. Lan Zhan is supposed to be wholly focused on making a good match, but right now the last thing in the world he wants to do is make horrible, meaningless small talk with potential suitors while his uncle and the Lan elders make the actual decisions about how acceptable a match it is.
Lan Zhan is half-exhausted from sleeping in a stiff chair all night, has images of Wei Ying’s injured leg taking up too much space in his mind, and he finds all he wants to do is head to Caiyi and make sure Wei Ying hasn’t run off on another ill advised night hunt. Make sure he’s in bed, resting. Perhaps provide some incentive to stay in bed.
Lan Zhan shakes himself free from that thought before his brother can read it on his face. From the way Xichen is smirking at him, though, he’s not sure how successful he was. Lan Zhan can go to see Wei Ying tomorrow. That will have to be enough.
Notes:
I hope, in the grand tradition of The Untamed, these gay caves (gayves, if you will) helped distract you from, you know, *waves vaguely at the world.* At least for a little bit.
Also, I really recommend doing "research" for your fanfiction by ordering sixty dollars worth of dim sum to split with exactly one friend (in this case, wotchermooney, who also did beta duty on this and is an angel.) It was a great idea.
Final chapter coming on Monday!
Chapter Text
Wei Ying is on the outskirts of Caiyi, practicing sword forms in the stretch of dried grass he and Lan Zhan use for their practical lessons, the one he’s started to think of as their field, when he hears a familiar hum of approval from behind him.
He finishes his last stance with a flourish, twisting to see Lan Zhan standing a short distance away, looking at him appraisingly.
“Good, right?” Wei Ying asks, giving a half bow before he re-sheaths Suibian.
“Expend energy judiciously. Unnecessary movement is imprudent," Lan Zhan quotes at him, blank faced.
"Ah, but sometimes it's prudent to show your opponent a bit of flair, eh Lan Zhan? What's the point of winning a fight if you can't do it in style?"
Lan Zhan purses his lips, and Wei Ying bites back a laugh as long as he is able. It isn't very long.
"Ah your face, Er-gege."
Lan Zhan's face does something else inscrutable at that, and Wei Ying spends a few seconds trying to decipher it before giving up and fiddling with Suibian's hilt.
"Wanna spar?"
"Not today," Lan Zhan replies, then cuts Wei Ying off before he can get a good pout going. "Music lessons today. Do you have your dizi?"
Wei Ying feels his eyes go wide. His hand automatically floats toward the back of his belt, where he's taken to keeping the black flute despite his inability to play more than a few notes on it.
"Really, Lan Zhan? You'll teach me to play?"
Lan Zhan doesn't answer, just sits down on the grass, robes billowing gracefully behind him, and pulls Wangji out of his qiankun bag.
Lan Zhan, it turns out, knows how to play the dizi very well, though he still claims he's not as good at it as the guqin. Wei Ying suspects that's just because he's so very good at guqin, because when he takes the dizi from Wei Ying's hands and plays a simple melody the notes ring clear and beautiful across the open field.
"Is there anything you aren't a genius at?" Wei Ying asks as the final notes trail off into the afternoon sun.
"Diplomacy," Lan Zhan replies after a moment, and then Wei Ying has to collapse in his lap with laughter.
Lan Zhan returns the dizi, once Wei Ying has finally caught his breath and dragged himself out of Lan Zhan's lap. He guides Wei Ying through basic fingerings, corrects his posture carefully, a light touch to his elbow, the brush of fingers on the back of his neck. Wei Ying is already shivering with sensation when Lan Zhan gets up, repositions himself behind him.
"Like this," he says, voice low in Wei Ying's ears, and then his arms are around Wei Ying, holding him upright and adjusting the dizi between both their hands.
"Control your breath. You are playing with the instrument, not against it."
Wei Ying shivers within Lan Zhan's arms, raises the flute to his lips again and, softly, carefully, plays the opening notes of the simple song Lan Zhan is teaching him. It’s still shaky, but easier this time. It sounds less like Wei Ying is blowing on an empty wine jar and more like actual music.
"Mn," Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying can hear pleasure in his voice. "Again."
By the time the sun has moved halfway across the sky, Wei Ying's lips are buzzing, but he's able to pick out the full song with barely a missed note. He’s still far from Lan Zhan's effortlessly smooth tone, but much better than the breathy squeaks he was making at the start of their lesson.
He's lifting the dizi to his lips again when Lan Zhan places a firm hand over his and stops him.
"Eh?" Wei Ying asks, twisting around to get a look at Lan Zhan, still curled around his back. "I'm just getting good, Gege!"
Wei Ying can feel Lan Zhan suck in a breath against his back, but he doesn't have a chance to debate what that means before Lan Zhan has pulled the flute out of his hand and carefully set it down next to them.
"Enough for today. Rest is just as important as practice."
Wei Ying pouts, briefly, but he also sort of can't feel his bottom lip at this point, had been missing notes because of it near the end there, so he suspects Lan Zhan has a point. His annoyance at their lesson ending fades the second he gets another idea.
He wiggles out of Lan Zhan's arms. Turns to face him with a grin stretching across his face.
"Lan-laoshi is such a good teacher. This dutiful student wants to continue practicing."
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, clearly going for strict but failing miserably when Wei Ying crawls forward, back into his lap.
"Mmm, I think I should practice my breath control more, Lan Zhan. What did you say about how to blow? It's important to be gentle but firm?"
"Wei Ying."
Wei Ying sinks down, snakes a hand up Lan Zhan's thigh, under his robes. He can feel Lan Zhan reacting already, undermining his attempt at a stern impression.
"Please, Er-gege?" Wei Ying asks, and feels Lan Zhan's thigh clench under his open palm. "Will you let this humble student practice your dizi?”
Wei Ying feels Lan Zhan's hand sink into his hair, pushing him forward, fingertips so tight against his scalp it's nearly painful. He takes that as permission.
---
It's actually Lan Zhan who brings up rimming the first time.
Wei Ying had read about it in one of Nie Huaisang’s books (and had to furiously jerk off afterwards) but had worried it would be too much for his little sex pupil. The frantic horniness those black and white drawings had inspired comes right back when Lan Zhan mentions he is curious.
Ten minutes later they're on Wei Ying’s tiny bed, Lan Zhan between his legs and Wei Ying feeling like his spirit is going to depart his body and ascend to a higher plane if Lan Zhan gets his tongue any further inside him.
Lan Zhan actually rips a hole in the thin mattress when Wei Ying returns the favor later, only notices the straw poking out once they've lain in breathless silence for a full half an hour afterwards, both too blown away to bother cleaning up just yet.
"I will get Wei Ying a new mattress," Lan Zhan says, as he glares at the rip as though it has personally offended him.
"Don't do that," Wei Ying responds. "I'll just patch it up. It's fine."
He flops over to rest his head on Lan Zhan's chest, ignoring the sticky feeling of sweat on his cheek.
"Mn..." Lan Zhan says, not in agreement, and Wei Ying is too blissed out to argue anymore.
Four days later, Lan Zhan returns and it quickly becomes clear that he has gone on something of a shopping spree. He pulls out several qiankun bags and starts retrieving items he has bought for Wei Ying, from new blankets, to a stand for his dizi, to a collection of new inks and brushes that must have cost more than Wei Ying makes in a month. By the time Lan Zhan has started pulling a full mattress out of his bag, Wei Ying has dissolved into breathless laughter.
“I tore your mattress,” Lan Zhan says, glaring as Wei Ying completely fails to catch his breath between hiccuping laughs. “It is only right I provide a replacement.”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says when he can finally catch his breath enough to form full words. “I can’t fit all this in my room.”
Lan Zhan looks around like he is only now noticing that all the blankets and boxes of ink and paper and other ephemera he’s brought have filled most of the empty space in Wei Ying’s tiny room.
“Ah,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying can’t help himself. He has to pull him down to the bed and kiss him breathless, half squishing one of the scrolls Lan Zhan had bought in the process.
“I’ll keep the mattress,” Wei Ying says, because that will help Lan Zhan too, when they have future lessons, “but I can’t keep the rest of this.”
Lan Zhan furrows his brow, then seems to come to a conclusion of his own. “I will keep these in my room. Wei Ying can visit and use them there.”
Wei Ying isn’t sure how exactly he’s supposed to casually stop by to see Lan Zhan without raising suspicions. For all he helped Lan Xichen, he doesn’t think their uncle would be too pleased to welcome him back into the Cloud Recesses, even if Lan Zhan was willing to flout propriety by bringing notorious Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian in as a formal guest. But he bites his tongue at the surprisingly soft look on Lan Zhan’s face. He’s supposed to be practicing romance, after all, and what’s more romantic than showering someone with more gifts than they can handle?
“Yes, keep them in your room,” Wei Ying says. He pulls Lan Zhan’s hand up to his mouth and gives his palm a gentle kiss, reward for being such a thoughtful student. Lan Zhan sucks in a breath at the kiss, which Wei Ying takes as incentive to nip gently at the smooth skin of his wrist, soothe the bite with his tongue. Then Lan Zhan is pushing him back on the bed, and there’s a clatter as several of the boxes go tipping off the side. Wei Ying hopes those weren’t the ink sets, because that would be a pain to clean.
Ink spills are a problem for future Wei Ying, though, because right now Lan Zhan has started biting down his throat, pushing aside his robes and trailing down further until Wei Ying’s mind goes pleasantly empty of anything but the sharp scrape of Lan Zhan’s teeth over one oversensitive nipple.
---
When Wei Ying hears an unexpected knock on his door a few days later, he assumes it’s the inn keeper come to yell at him for forgetting to sweep the back room again or flirting with some patron’s wife too aggressively or whatever else has annoyed her today.
He nearly trips over himself with surprise, then, when he opens the door to Nie Huaisang.
“Nie-xiong? How did... did someone let you in?”
“The lady who runs the inn said you’d be back here? I’m sorry to bother you, Wei-gongzi! I was just... you got hurt on our night hunt and then I heard you got hurt again helping Zewu-Jun, and I felt so bad about it! It’s all my fault, Wei-gongzi!”
"I'm fine, A-Sang," Wei Ying replies, cutting him off before he can hurt himself. "Did you bring a fruit basket?"
Huaisang is holding a large basket filled to the brim with loquats. They all look perfectly ripe, round and glossy in the way that means someone spent a lot of time selecting only the best fruits from the tree. It's the kind of thing the younger brother of a sect leader might find commonplace but has Wei Ying mentally tallying just how much gold it would cost.
"I didn't want to get you hurt, I just wanted someone there who wouldn't laugh at me during the hunt."
Huaisang looks so upset, any thought of the cost of fruit is wiped out of Wei Ying's head.
"Ahh Nie-xiong, I had a great time. It wasn't your fault I went on an impromptu swimming trip with Lan Zhan! And see, I'm already healed, mostly."
Wei Ying waggles his right leg at Huaisang, indicating its newfound soundness. And it really is feeling almost entirely better now. The Gusu Lan healers know their stuff.
"Let's eat some of this, yeah?"
Nie Huaisang smiles, bright as the sun. Wei Ying grins in response and drags him back to his room.
"So are you and Lan Wangji friends now?" Huaisang asks, halfway through the basket of fruit, loquat juice dribbling adorably down his chin.
"What?"
"You just looked so comfortable in that cave. I almost didn't want to rescue you."
Wei Ying tackles Huaisang, for lack of a more coherent response.
"Ah, ah don't kill me! Wei-gongzi, I'm very delicate!!"
Wei Ying sits up, Huaisang pinned below him, and finally gathers himself enough to respond. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Then Wei Ying sucks on a finger and promptly sticks it in Huaisang's ear.
"Wei-gongzi! How could you!!!"
Wei Ying keeps Huaisang pinned until he's satisfyingly red in the face and squealing with laughter and disgust, then rolls off and flops on the floor himself.
"And here I was going to give you another present," Huaisang says with an aggrieved sniff.
"Ooh, more presents?"
Wei Ying pushes himself up again and peers at Huaisang, who is doing a bad job of hiding a grin.
"Outside pocket of my bag."
Wei Ying scrambles up and goes digging in the elaborately embroidered bag Huaisang has brought with him. Sure enough, there's a small, solid object in the outside pocket, wrapped in a soft silk scarf.
"Open it," Huaisang continues. He's sitting up too now, grinning at Wei Ying knowingly.
Wei Ying pulls back the silk and nearly drops the gift when he sees what's inside.
"Is this... how did you..."
"Mmm," Huaisang hums, looking extremely self satisfied. "Zewu-Jun knows I'm so bad at remembering my official invitation when I go out. He thought this might be easier."
"But... don't you need it?" Wei Ying asks, staring down at the polished jade token.
"I can manage," Huaisang says. He scoots over toward Wei Ying and nudges his shoulder companionably. "This way you can come visit whenever you want. It gets so boring in the Cloud Recesses, Wei Ying. And maybe you can visit... other friends while you're there, too."
Wei Ying gives Huaisang a long look, tries to make eye contact, but the boy is busily looking anywhere but directly at him. There's a half smile on his lips, though. Wei Ying doesn't know if he should be terrified someone else seems to have picked up on whatever is happening between him and Lan Zhan or grateful that person is Nie Huaisang, who has given him acres of porn and now a smuggled jade token, and, Wei Ying is realizing, might be the first real friend he's made since he left Yunmeng and his siblings behind.
"Thank you, A-Sang," Wei Ying says, soft and sincere, then, "You're smarter than people give you credit for, aren't you."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Huaisang replies before popping the last of the loquats into his mouth.
---
Wei Ying makes sure to wear all black for his infiltration mission. It's not a particularly satisfying wardrobe change, because he already wears all black most days, but he makes sure to pick his very blackest robes. Debates swapping out his hair ribbon before deciding even the best undercover agents deserve a bit of flair and leaving it in.
Lan Zhan seems so fond of it, after all, always tangling his fingers in the red silk when they're lying in bed, recovering from their latest lesson. Once he'd even grabbed a firm hold of the ribbon during said lessons, given it a sharp tug that had sent Wei Ying over the edge with such startling speed all he'd been able to do afterward was laugh until he could barely catch his breath.
The point, though, is that Wei Ying is the proud new owner of a Cloud Recesses jade token and, as a diligent and devoted teacher, he would like to visit his precious student this evening. Without being noticed by anyone who might question exactly why he's wandering into the Cloud Recesses like he belongs there.
So Wei Ying dons his darkest robes, leaves extra oats for Little Apple, and heads off on Suibian for the far reaches of the Cloud Recesses gates.
He's just hopping over the stone wall, far enough from any actual entrances to avoid notice by the Lan disciples standing guard, when he hears the sound of footsteps heading toward him.
Wei Ying, in a tragic betrayal of his plans to be a subtle and effective infiltrator, responds by hurling himself off the top of the wall into the tall grasses lining the Cloud Recesses side of the barrier.
"Wei Wuxian?"
Wei Ying blinks up from where he has landed flat on his back on the ground. There's a familiar flash of red robes and soft, dark eyes peering down at him.
"...Wen Qing?"
Wei Ying shoves himself to his feet while Wen Qing watches, making no move to help or even look away as he gracelessly tries to knock the dirt off his sleeves.
"Are you staying in the Cloud Recesses as well?” Wen Qing asks, finally. “To... meet with Lan Wangji?"
Her voice is soft, flawlessly polite, but Wei Ying can tell she's confused.
"To meet with... oh, no. No!" Wei Ying stammers, chokes back a laugh. "Oh my god, imagine me, courting. Ah ha ha. No I'm. Visiting a friend?"
He trails off, and doesn't think he's done a particularly good job allaying suspicion here. Though, speaking of suspicion.
"What are you doing way back here anyway?" Wei Ying asks. They’re in the ass-end of the Cloud Recesses, as far away from the bustling front entrance as is possible, because the jade token would let Wei Ying past the wards, but it wouldn't make him look any less like a good-for-nothing rogue cultivator who had no business sullying the pristine beauty of Gusu Lan.
"I needed more ginseng, for medicine for A-Ning," Wen Qing replies. Her voice belies no hint of a lie, and sure enough she holds up one hand of freshly picked roots, still dusty with soil. There'd been a pause, though. A moment where Wei Ying swore he could see her pulling a story together.
He quirks his head. She stares back at him, eyes unflinching, as if to say I won't question you if you don't question me.
Wei Ying relaxes his shoulders and laughs just to break the tense silence.
"Imagine running into you here of all places! How is your adorable little brother, anyway? Still practicing his archery?"
"Mn," Wen Qing responds, and Wei Ying can see the tension mostly leave her as well, though there's something behind her eyes that never quite settles. He'd noticed that before, too. Hopes she can find a way to quiet the lingering unease one day, though he knows too well most people never really get that lucky.
By the time he ducks away, leaving her to gather herbs or whatever it is she's up to all the way out here, Wei Ying has nearly forgotten he's on something of a secret mission. The nerves rush back to him when he nearly walks out in front of a wandering Lan disciple. He only just catches himself, ducking behind a nearby wall as the man hurries by, steps quick if never quite reaching an outright run.
Wei Ying is more careful after that, following Huaisang’s directions as best as he can remember and keeping to the outer wall, ducking behind the nearest large object whenever he hears an unexpected noise. He avoids meeting anyone else, the gardens this far out as sparsely populated as he’d suspected, aside from the occasional wayward Wen.
The sun is just starting to sink, sky gone rosy and shadows growing long, when Wei Ying finds the room he’s looking for. He ducks his head past an open window, takes in a familiar figure sitting silently at a small desk in the corner, then tries to look casual as he props an elbow on the window sill and gives a low whistle.
Lan Zhan doesn’t startle, but he does smear the ink on his page, just slightly, as he turns and sees Wei Ying in his window. Wei Ying smirks, always delighted to get a less than perfect reaction out of the man.
“Hey, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan blinks, once, then carefully sets down his brush. “How did you get here?”
“Over the wall,” Wei Ying says and, taking that as an invitation, pushes himself up and through Lan Zhan’s window. He tries his best to look cool, and thinks he has mostly managed it until he catches his foot on the sill and has to flop himself around awkwardly to avoid face planting right into the floor. When he rights himself, he sees Lan Zhan is the one smirking now.
“Nice to see you, too,” Wei Ying says with a pout.
“The wards?”
Wei Ying waves a hand dismissively. “Didn’t break them. Don’t worry. No one knows I’m here.”
Lan Zhan looks like he’s about to pry further, so Wei Ying cuts him off. “Do you really want to know?”
Lan Zhan contemplates that for a moment, then the next thing Wei Ying knows, he is being pushed onto the bed, Lan Zhan biting a slow line down his neck, teeth sinking in hard enough that there’ll be marks tomorrow. Wei Ying takes that as a “no.”
They’re both half undressed, pulling at each other’s clothes without much skill or coordination, when Wei Ying remembers they’re in Cloud Recesses, away from his usual stash of supplies.
“Do you have any...” he asks before losing his train of thought at the sight of Lan Zhan stripping off the last of his layers.
Lan Zhan stops, then shakes his head “no,” mouth tight with annoyance. So he apparently understood Wei Ying’s question.
“It’s okay, maybe we can...” but then Wei Ying's brain goes blank again, all static and panic, as Lan Zhan sucks two fingers into his mouth, slicks them up with saliva, then reaches down toward his own entrance.
“Oh...” Wei Ying stammers, leaning back to take in the whole, overwhelming view. Lan Zhan’s face tightens in concentration as he opens himself up, and Wei Ying loses all track of time until he realizes he’s being glared at.
“Ready,” Lan Zhan says, pulling his fingers out and looking meaningfully at Wei Ying.
“Really?”
Wei Ying pauses, apparently too long, because Lan Zhan huffs in annoyance then reaches out with one leg, hooks his foot behind Wei Ying’s thigh and yanks him forward in one swift move. Wei Ying just manages to catch himself, arms outstretched, hovering over Lan Zhan, who leans up to catch him in a kiss.
“Ready,” Lan Zhan says more firmly when they finally break apart, and Wei Ying is pretty sure he couldn’t deny him anything at this point. He spits in his own palm, slicks himself up as much as he’s able, then lines up and pushes in as slowly as he can make himself.
It’s overwhelming. Lan Zhan tight around him, face betraying discomfort at the friction, but the moment Wei Ying stops pushing forward Lan Zhan is dragging him down again into another fierce kiss, driving his hips upward to force Wei Ying deeper.
Wei Ying gentles the kiss, bites at Lan Zhan’s lower lip as he continues to sink into him until finally he’s flush with Lan Zhan’s ass, everything hot, tight, too much to last very long and utterly, utterly perfect.
“Can you...” Lan Zhan starts, and Wei Ying responds with a small twist of his hips, just the hint of a thrust that still knocks a rough breath out of Lan Zhan.
“Okay?” Wei Ying asks, and Lan Zhan’s hum of assent sounds almost like a laugh.
“Move,” Lan Zhan says, hand pushing at the small of Wei Ying’s back, as if he can make him go faster by force of will, and Wei Ying lets himself go. Pulls back, holds himself still at the edge of Lan Zhan’s entrance for one long moment, then drives home with one quick thrust that pulls a cry out of Lan Zhan. Wei Ying wants to hear that again. Wants it louder. He pulls Lan Zhan’s legs around him and picks up his pace, waiting for the moment Lan Zhan loses himself in the rhythm and the just this side of too much friction between them.
Wei Ying just manages to hold on long enough to watch Lan Zhan shake apart around him, body clenching around his cock as Wei Ying strokes him through his orgasm. Seconds later he’s coming himself, buried deep in Lan Zhan and shaking with it.
They lay there for a long time afterwards, Wei Ying still inside Lan Zhan, clenching with oversensitivity but unwilling to lose the connection. Lan Zhan traces on hand idly over Wei Ying’s back, fingers pausing at each bump of his spine.
Finally Wei Ying slips out, Lan Zhan grabbing at his waist, not letting him go far. Wei Ying doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to find something to clean them up with either. Just tucks himself into Lan Zhan’s side and nuzzles into the heat of his chest.
He wants to bask in this. Wants to let his mind stay pleasantly blank, buzzing with lingering endorphins, but Wei Ying has never been able to fully shut off his brain. And it’s not long before thoughts of Wen Qing surface again, looking every bit her gentry upbringing here in the heart of the Gusu Lan.
“How have meetings with suitors been going?” Wei Ying asks, because he doesn’t know how to stop his mouth. Never has. Lan Zhan tenses below him, and Wei Ying feels a pang of regret. But he can’t take the question back now.
“Fine,” Lan Zhan finally replies.
“Just fine?”
“...Annoying.”
Wei Ying laughs, then feels another question rising to the surface, too insistent to hold back.
“Anyone you find... not annoying? Any favorites among the thronging masses, Er-gege?”
He’s trying to keep it light, pretend it’s just a joke. Lan Zhan props himself up and stares down at Wei Ying, eyes far too knowing.
“Just wondering if you’ve found someone who can follow all your rules, eh? It’s gotta be a workout trying to live up to the sterling reputation of the Second Jade of Lan! I don’t envy those poor potential spouses, staying up all night cramming from the Lan rulebook to make sure they don’t drink their tea with the wrong hand or bow three degrees too low when they meet you or...”
Lan Zhan puts a hand over his mouth, holds it there as Wei Ying tries to keep talking for a moment then settles for sticking his tongue out and giving Lan Zhan’s palm a wet lick. It doesn’t seem to phase Lan Zhan, which makes Wei Ying croon with delight.
“What do you want to ask, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, removing his hand once Wei Ying has gone quiet under him.
“I ran into Wen Qing when I first arrived today,” Wei Ying says, out of ideas for a distraction and burning for answers, even if it hurts. Lan Zhan looks startled, but Wei Ying keeps going before he can say anything.
“It’s fine. We’ve met before. She’s not going to tell anyone about me.”
He pauses, and Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything. Just watches him silently until Wei Ying is ready to continue.
“They’re great. Wen Qing and her brother, I mean. They’re... really great. I think you’d like them a lot, if you gave them a chance.”
The Wens are staying here at least through the end of the month, Wen Qing had said. And god, Wei Ying can't even be mad at them, because Wen Qing is so competent and Wen Ning is so cute.
"Are you going to marry one of them?" Wei Ying finally asks. Lan Zhan’s bed suddenly feels too soft. Too comfortable for this conversation. Wei Ying looks away, stares at the fingerprints he left on Lan Zhan’s hips, red slowly fading into bruise. They’ll be healed within the hour, he knows, but he likes the look of them. Likes to know he left a reminder of himself behind, however impermanent.
Wei Ying takes a deep breath, forces himself to sound calm and disinterested. "Either of them would make a fine spouse. A-Ning’s a little young, but maybe in a few years..."
Lan Zhan makes an annoyed noise that Wei Ying can't fully translate, then says "Not a Wen."
Wei Ying feels his chest unclench and briefly feels guilty about it, before his curiosity gets the better of him. He looks back up at Lan Zhan.
"Not a Wen?"
"Not the point of this," Lan Zhan responds, then continues, "Xichen thinks they're mostly here to spy.”
And that makes sense, though Wei Ying cannot imagine precious little Wen Ning could make much of a spy. Wen Qing probably would, though, bless her tiny, competent face.
Wei Ying doesn't care too much about sect politics, but he remembers hearing this whole betrothal thing was meant as a counter balance to Wen Power. He supposes marrying one of them would sort of defeat the purpose.
"Also," Lan Zhan continues, "Wens are annoying."
Wei Ying laughs and rolls over to bite a kiss into Lan Zhan's neck before he can stop himself.
"But Wen Ning is so adorable! He's not like those other Wen-assholes."
Lan Zhan huffs but doesn't actually disagree. Still, Wei Ying thinks. Not a Wen. Good.
---
Wei Ying being able to go to Lan Zhan, rather than just Lan Zhan coming to him, means they're fucking even more frequently, which is great except it also means Wei Ying is spending literally all his limited free time doing research now, combing through Nie Huaisang's porn stacks with a fine tooth comb looking for things he can "teach" Lan Zhan that will keep him interested but won't completely freak him out. (Though Wei Ying is starting to realize the bar for freaking Lan Zhan out is, perhaps, much higher than he initially estimated. His reaction to the thing with the candle wax the other night had been. Surprising. But very, very good.)
Between visiting Lan Zhan and regular shifts at the inn and night hunts to cover the gaps in his bills, though, Wei Ying isn’t really sleeping so much.
He falls asleep ten minutes into a complex new position they’re trying out, coming to with his torso halfway off the bed and Lan Zhan still inside him.
"Hh... what?" he asks, snapping awake when he realizes what he’s done.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, sounding far too worried. He pulls Wei Ying up, holding him tight to his chest, still not moving at all other than a slow hand rubbing soothingly over one of Wei Ying’s biceps.
"No, keep going. I’m fine. This is great," Wei Ying says, but he has to stifle a yawn halfway through it. He’s not even hard anymore, cock fully betraying him despite how much he really is enjoying this.
"You can sleep," Lan Zhan says before gently pulling out. Wei Ying pouts at the loss of connection before Lan Zhan flips him over and starts tucking him in under the soft silks covering the bed.
"Nooo," Wei Ying whines softly, eyelids already going heavy and half closed. "Have to... teach you."
"Go to sleep, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says again, and suddenly there’s a warm cloth cleaning the sweat off his brow. Wei Ying lets his eyes fall shut. It feels so good and he’s so tired. Maybe caring for a lover like this is also a good lesson, his brain halfheartedly tries to convince him, before he falls unconscious to the sound of Lan Zhan softly humming the same mysterious song from before.
---
Later Wei Ying does actually ask Lan Zhan to fuck him while he's still asleep. Or, more specifically, to fuck him awake, if he wants. Lan Zhan had seemed... unconvinced at first. Looking so hesitant that Wei Ying had almost loudly declared it a joke and put the topic away for good. But then Lan Zhan had run a finger over Wei Ying's cheek, soft — too soft — and asked in a low voice, "And Wei Ying is sure he wants this?"
Wei Ying had gulped down his planned rebuttal and nodded.
"I don't want to hurt Wei Ying," Lan Zhan had replied, to which Wei Ying had to bury his face in the man's chest for fear of bursting into extremely embarrassing tears and scaring him off for good.
"I can tell you at night," Wei Ying mutters into Lan Zhan's chest, and more feels than hears the man hum under him in response. "That the next morning you could... feel free."
Lan Zhan hums again, and Wei Ying shivers when he realizes it is in assent.
The next morning, Wei Ying blinks awake to a bright ray of sun in his eyes and the feel of familiar fingers stretching him, slowly but firmly. He wiggles a bit, stretching out his neck and looking down to see he is already half hard, Lan Zhan between his legs looking up at him with dark eyes.
"Is this..."
"Yes," Wei Ying says, voice still hoarse from sleep. He wiggles again, clenching down on Lan Zhan's fingers this time, trying to get him to move again.
"More. Please."
Lan Zhan's eyes go from unsure to determined in an instant, and he begins to piston his fingers in and out, picking up the pace and letting his other hand wander up Wei Ying's thigh until he can take his cock in hand and pull him to full hardness.
Wei Ying comes like that, body still boneless with sleep and the pleasure of Lan Zhan in and around him. He laughs as Lan Zhan wipes a stray streak of come off his cheek, looking more intrigued than disgusted. Then Wei Ying pulls the man up and lets him rub against his slick thighs until Lan Zhan adds to the mess himself.
The thing is, most of the stuff he's "teaching" Lan Zhan, Wei Ying picks because they seem novel, and like something that will keep Lan Zhan interested in coming back for more. This time, he decidedly refuses to admit to himself, it might have been more for him. The thought of waking up with someone — with Lan Zhan — already taking care of him. Holding him preciously and wringing pleasure from him without Wei Ying having to initiate. Without Wei Ying having to do anything.
Wei Ying shivers and forces his focus back onto the new snare talisman he's fiddling with. It's supposed to target demonic energy specifically, so no wayward cultivators or forest creatures or, say, cute bunnies who have wandered away from their loving caretaker, will get caught up in it accidentally. Wei Ying very firmly reminds himself he is not, in fact, one of said bunnies to be tended to gently by Lan Zhan, and goes back to work.
---
Before this year, Lan Zhan never knew entertaining visiting disciples required so much effort. He'd always assumed they showed up, ready to learn from Gusu's well-respected teachers, and required very little hand-holding beyond that. That they could slot into the well-regulated daily rhythm of life in the Cloud Recesses without too much work beyond a few extra beds to make and meals to prepare.
Perhaps it's different this time because there is the match-making processes involved as well, or perhaps Lan Zhan had simply been blind to the effort involved in caring for dozens of visiting cultivators from politically-connected families as they descend on his home. But these particular visiting cultivators seem to require so much effort, lest they feel boredom for even a single moment.
At least this week's entertainment is an archery contest instead of an endless banquet or mind-numbing concert. Lan Zhan will take something outdoors, with a built in excuse to focus on his own actions, instead of struggling through polite conversation with potential spouses.
Lan Zhan spends the first half of the event pretending to be very involved in his own preparations to avoid conversations with the mingling cultivators. Any time someone particularly brave or unobservant approaches him to give their regards, he finds himself suddenly very interested in the progress of the younger disciples currently facing off against each other. Their shaky bow holds and unique aim is entertaining, at least, and Lan Zhan feels himself swell with pride as two of the youngest Lan disciples, who he has worked with personally the past few months, manage to hit center target after a shaky few first attempts.
Mostly, though, he keeps his head down and thinks about the time he'd done this with Wei Ying. They'd been in their usual deserted field, aiming at bales of straw, with Wei Ying stripped down to just two layers of fabric under the mid-afternoon sun. It's a harsh contrast to the cultivators filling the well-manicured Cloud Recesses shooting range, wearing their flashiest regalia and aiming for crisply-painted targets. It had been a lot more pleasant of an afternoon, too.
Also, Lan Zhan thinks with a purse of his lips as he watches the first of the senior competitors begin to shoot, Wei Ying is a much better archer than anyone here.
He watches several mediocre showings before a younger boy in Wen red finally manages a good score. He hits the center ring on two of the three targets, narrowly misses with the third, and then, in sharp contrast to the swaggeringly mediocre Nie cultivator who'd gone before him, blushes at the ensuing applause. Lan Zhan wonders if this is the Wen boy Wei Ying had been so enamored with.
The annoying Jin cousin goes next. He lines up his first shot with a smirk, hits the center of the target, then pauses for a long moment, until well after the polite cheers of the crowd have died off, to take his second shot. Lan Zhan narrowly avoids rolling his eyes.
The second shot hits the innermost ring of the target as well, though not as close to dead center as the Wen boy's second shot had been. The Jin cousin's third shot hits to the right, close enough to the line that the Lan disciple acting as official scorekeeper has to move in for a closer look before declaring it a bullseye. The Jin Cousin practically crows at the announcement, actually catches Lan Zhan's eye as he raises his bow above his head and says, loud enough for the crowd of onlookers to hear, "Think you can top that, Lan er-gongzi?"
The Jin cousin is easily four years the Wen boy's senior, and he only beat the boy by the width of one finger. If that. Lan Zhan doesn't understand what he's gloating about. He bites back the urge to recite several Lan precepts about arrogance. He doubts his uncle would appreciate it, no matter how much weight he places on clan strictures.
Instead of speaking, Lan Zhan lifts his own bow and moves to take his turn. He nocks his first arrow, lines up his shot, fires, nocks, fires, nocks, fires, then lowers his bow and walks away from the shooting line. He ignores the crowd cheering for his three arrows, quivering dead center in each target. He does give the Jin cousin a long, silent look, though.
Wei Ying could do that blindfolded, Lan Zhan thinks, as the Jin cousin gapes at him like a dying carp. And, well, there's a thought.
---
The next time Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan for practical cultivation lessons, Lan Zhan has an oddly determined look on his face and is holding a bow and a quiver of arrows.
"Archery again?" Wei Ying asks. He's a bit confused, because the last time they'd done this Lan Zhan had announced he didn't have much to teach Wei Ying at the end of the lesson. And, not to be too full of himself, but Wei Ying had largely agreed. He'd always been talented at archery. From his early days in Yunmeng he'd regularly beaten Jiang disciples years his senior at archery competitions. He strongly suspects he'd give Lan Zhan a run for his money if they ever went head to head, which is a prospect that sends a shiver of excitement down Wei Ying's spine. Lan Zhan is good at shooting. And Wei Ying adores a challenge.
"Wanted to try something," Lan Zhan says, then walks away swiftly, lining up three bales of hay across the field.
"No moving targets this time?" Wei Ying ask when Lan Zhan returns and pushes the bow into his hands. "No offense, Gege, but this isn't much of a challenge..."
"Could you hit them blindfolded?" Lan Zhan asks, and Wei Ying blinks, entirely lost for words for once in his life.
"Nevermind," Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying can see a subtle flush rising on his cheeks. "I should not have..."
"No! It sounds great!" Wei Ying interrupts, because clearly this is something Lan Zhan's been thinking about. Wei Ying has no idea why he cares, but he obviously does, and it's not like it'll be a problem to shoot with his eyes covered. Although.
"We don't have anything to use as a blindfold,” Wei Ying says, looking around for something that would work. “Here, give me your headband, Lan Zhan."
Wei Ying reaches towards Lan Zhan's forehead without waiting for an answer, then stops, one hand on the pale silk ribbon, brought to a halt by the way Lan Zhan's eyes have gone wide with shock.
"What?" Wei Ying asks, but doesn't pull his hand back. "Do you have something else I should use?"
Lan Zhan shifts minutely under Wei Ying's hand, but it's enough to tug the ribbon loose. Slowly, Lan Zhan reaches back, unties it the rest of the way, then holds it up to Wei Ying.
"Tie it for me?" Wei Ying asks, and it feels, bizarrely, like he's asking for something a lot more important than help covering his eyes for whatever stupid archery challenge Lan Zhan has gotten in his head.
"Mn," Lan Zhan replies. Wei Ying lets his eyes fall shut at the feeling of Lan Zhan's long fingers carefully and competently tying the ribbon around his eyes. They stand there like that for a long moment, Lan Zhan's fingers still light on the back of Wei Ying's head, despite the ribbon long since being securely knotted.
"You wanted me to..." Wei Ying finally says, breaking the silence.
"The targets," Lan Zhan replies. There's an odd hitch in his voice Wei Ying can't identify.
"You want them in order or all at once?"
"At once?" Lan Zhan replies. It's a question, not an answer, and that settles it. Wei Ying's never been able to resist a chance to show off. If Lan Zhan thinks he can't hit three targets at once, blindfolded or not...
He nocks three arrows, draws, holds his hand tight against his jaw, bowstring just kissing his lips for one long moment, then releases with a hiss of air.
He doesn't need to hear Lan Zhan's sharp intake of break to know he's hit his marks, but it's enjoyable all the same.
Wei Ying reaches up to carefully untie Lan Zhan’s ribbon, and a moment later Lan Zhan’s hands are there as well, pulling apart the knot and carefully drawing it down off Wei Ying’s eyes.
Lan Zhan’s face is flushed, his pupils blown and oh. That’s interesting. Wei Ying wonders if it was the archery or the blindfold. Or possibly both. Either way, Wei Ying knows how to take a hint.
“Hey Gege, want to continue today’s lesson back in my room?”
Lan Zhan doesn’t answer. Just turns and stalks off toward Caiyi, Wei Ying on his tail, wheezing with laughter.
Wei Ying gets Lan Zhan off within minutes of them tumbling through the entrance to his room, both of them only half undressed, just enough for Wei Ying to take him in his mouth, suck him hard and fast until he’s coming down Wei Ying’s throat in hot pulses.
He sits up, after, wipes his mouth and grins at the blown out look on Lan Zhan’s face until Lan Zhan gets a tight grip on his waist and flips them, returning the favor in style.
The initial desperation out of their system, Wei Ying nips lazily at Lan Zhan’s mouth for the familiar but still impressively short time it takes for him to firm up again.
“Mm, Gege, your turn now,” Wei Ying says, and before Lan Zhan can reply he reaches out, nudges his forehead ribbon down until it is over his eyes. He pulls at the trailing ends hanging down the back of Lan Zhan’s neck, wraps them around as well and ties them off, making sure his eyes are completely covered.
“Good?” Wei Ying asks, one finger stroking the silk ribbon lightly. Lan Zhan shakes under him, bites his lip hard enough to leave the ghost of teeth marks on skin for a moment. Then nods.
Wei Ying pushes him down until Lan Zhan is flat on the bed. He bites kisses down Lan Zhan’s smooth chest. Nips at his jut of his hipbone and grins at the aborted thrust Lan Zhan makes at that. Then pulls back and shifts so he’s straddling Lan Zhan’s thighs. He holds himself there for a long moment, so close to Lan Zhan but careful not to touch.
“Wei Ying.”
Lan Zhan’s voice is raspy. Desperate. Wei Ying reaches out and trails one finger down his side. He jumps at the touch, clearly unexpected with his eyes covered.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeats, but Wei Ying refuses to respond. Pulls his hand back, then reaches up to tug at Lan Zhan’s bottom lip.
“Patience, Gege,” he says, then huffs a laugh at the way Lan Zhan’s lips purse under his fingers in frustration.
He continues like that, darting across Lan Zhan’s body, surprising him with each teasing touch.
Lan Zhan is shaking under him when Wei Ying finally lowers himself down, just enough to brush up against his leaking cock.
“Yes,” he growls, and grabs at Wei Ying, trying to pull him tighter. Wei Ying pulls out of Lan Zhan’s grasp, rises up so their only point of contact is Wei Ying’s calves tight around Lan Zhan’s hips.
“Hands up,” Wei Ying says, firmly. He’s feeling adventurous in the face of Lan Zhan’s slack mouth and desperate gasps of breath.
Sure enough, Lan Zhan raises his arms a moment later, slowly, puts his hands above his head exactly where Wei Ying wants them.
“Good boy,” Wei Ying says, and decides they both deserve a reward.
It’s a matter of moments for Wei Ying to slick himself up, sink down on Lan Zhan into the familiar stretch, overwhelming and almost painful. Perfect.
He moves slowly, little bounces that leave Lan Zhan panting for more, struggling to keep himself from reaching out.
"Gonna have to tie you up next time," Wei Ying says, as he pushes Lan Zhan's hands back down to the bed for the fifth time.
"Yes," Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying clenches and comes just like that, all over the man's chest and chin.
"Oops?" he says, shaking with sensation. Lan Zhan, still blindfolded, grabs him by the waist and drags him down onto his cock, giving three desperate thrusts before coming himself.
"So it's a yes on getting tied up, then?" Wei Ying says after they’ve caught their breath. He carefully unties Lan Zhan’s ribbon, gestures for Lan Zhan to lift his hair so he can tie it back in place on his forehead, careful to make the knot neat and precise.
"I... would like to learn," Lan Zhan says, and then Wei Ying has no choice but to pull him in for a long kiss.
---
Wei Ying buys a book about knot tying off a sailor he knows from town, and bums another, more specific book from Nie Huaisang, who just laughs at him as he hands over the latest reading material.
"Careful who you let tie you up."
"Oh it's not..." Wei Ying starts, then goes silent as he imagines Lan Zhan carefully tying his wrists up. "Thank you. And fuck you," Wei Ying says cheerfully as he finally pulls himself together enough to exit the room, Nie Huaisang hiccuping with laughter in the background.
---
Lan Zhan is helping his uncle with the mountains of paperwork that inevitably pile up every month, no matter how diligent one is in running a sect, when he discovers the letters.
“Uncle, these have been miscategorized,” Lan Zhan says, because the inquiries within clearly have not been responded to, but they’ve somehow ended up in the pile of papers to be discarded.
His uncle looks up from a long, and clearly long-winded, scroll bearing the Yao sect crest and takes the letter Lan Zhan is holding out. He scans it quickly, flips it over as though there might be something he missed, then hands it back to Lan Zhan.
“It is categorized correctly.”
Lan Zhan looks down at the letter again. There is no mark indicating the woman’s trouble with fierce corpses attacking her family farm has been dealt with.
“Was it not recorded properly when cultivators were deployed, Uncle?” Lan Zhan asks. He keeps his question deferential, but his voice is firm.
“There were no cultivators deployed,” his uncle replies, not looking up from the Yao sect letter this time. After a long moment of silence, he finally puts the scroll down and turns back to Lan Zhan.
“We cannot send cultivators every time someone has been inconvenienced. Resources are stretched thin as it is.”
Lan Zhan grips the woman’s letter tighter. She writes of losing half her crops this year, trampled by fierce corpses she’s unequipped to dispose of herself. Her daughter, the letter pleads, was attacked while playing in the yard one day. It seems like more than an inconvenience.
Lan Zhan turns to the rest of the letters in the pile to be discarded. Some of them are transparently not the business of cultivators — the woman whose cows escaped through a broken fence needs to fix her fence, not bring in help handling bovine snatching demons!! — but several of these are clearly wanting for higher level help than they can readily access or, likely, afford. This is exactly the sort of issue Lan Zhan had discussed with his uncle earlier, of how a few cultivators from Gusu Lan could clear up these matters quickly, preventing the loss of innocent life, even if they’re mundane enough they usually wouldn’t merit a major sect’s attention.
“We should not ignore these, Uncle,” Lan Zhan says. His voice is low still, controlled, but when Lan Qiren lowers his own reading again his eyes are sharp.
“We are too busy to discuss this right now, Wangji,” he says, clearly meaning “I am too busy to indulge this. Now or ever.”
Lan Zhan feels the letter crumple, realizes he has tightened his hand into a fist without thinking about it.
“When would be a good time to discuss it then, Uncle,” he grits out. It takes everything he has to keep his question polite.
There’s another long pause as his Uncle looks at him, gaze unreadable and unwavering.
“Go find your brother. He is tutoring the junior disciples today and will need help.”
Lan Zhan knows a dismissal when he hears it. He wants to argue, but he never argues with his uncle. Doesn’t even know where to start. Instead he pulls the entire pile of discarded letters toward himself. Folds them up and shoves them into his bags with more force than is wise or necessary. His uncle is looking at him with confusion now, and Lan Zhan realizes this is the first time in many, many years he has dared betray his orders. He thinks he should feel worse about it than he does.
Lan Zhan collects himself enough to push his anger back down his throat, bows politely, then heads to his room and packs up a bag before he can think too hard about what he’s doing.
He goes to Caiyi.
Lan Zhan doesn’t consider whether Wei Ying will be home. Doesn’t realize there’s a decent chance the man will be working, or off on a night hunt of his own, until he reaches the small door at the back of the inn and pauses to collect himself before pushing it open.
He’s relieved to see the line of Wei Ying’s back hunched over a stack of papers on his small desk, familiar red ribbon a shock of color against the fall of his hair.
“Whosit...” Wei Ying asks, turning around to peer at the unexpected presence in his room. “Lan Zhan? Ah, shit, was I supposed to meet you? I must have forgotten...”
“You did not forget,” Lan Zhan says. “I...”
He finds himself at a loss for words.
“Is something wrong?” Wei Ying asks, hopping up and moving toward Lan Zhan. He looks concerned. Lan Zhan feels his stomach clench.
“Letters,” Lan Zhan says, before Wei Ying can get too close, pulling out the stack of papers he stole from his uncle’s office.
Wei Ying reads them quickly, eyes darting rapidly as he flips through the pages, muttering to himself as he goes.
“Mmn, this one’s got to be a jiangshi, right? Disturbed graves here. Headless ghost, maybe? Or someone got too drunk and isn’t fessing up. And this lady needs to fix her own fence.”
Wei Ying holds the letters back out, quirks a smile, then asks, “Hey Lan Zhan, wanna go help some people?”
They spend all day darting from town to town. Take down several fierce corpses in one, clear a nest of yaoguai in a baker’s storehouse in another, remove a curse from a farmer’s daughter in the the last, then stand side by side, Bichen and Suibian flashing in devastating tandem, as they dispose of the hanged ghost that had cast the curse in the first place.
By the end of the day it is well past Cloud Recess curfew, and Lan Zhan is sticky with sweat, in possession of three loaves of bread forced on him by an extremely grateful baker, and, somehow, has ended up seated on a dirt floor next to a seven year old girl who is celebrating her once again curse-free existence by serving him and Wei Ying chipped bowls of imaginary tea.
When they head home that night, Lan Zhan's mind is still racing with annoyance at his uncle, his responsibilities to the sect, how useless he feels when he thinks of the twenty other letters in his bag, filled with pleas from people they haven’t been able to help tonight.
Wei Ying chatters aimlessly, but keeps giving Lan Zhan pointed looks as they walk.
“Are you...” he starts, as they reach the split in the road between Caiyi and the Cloud Recesses.
“Come with me?” Lan Zhan interrupts, because he doesn’t want to wait and see what Wei Ying is about to say. If he is going to ask what is bothering Lan Zhan tonight or simply say goodnight and leave him to walk back to his empty rooms alone. Both options seem, suddenly, unbearable.
Wei Ying pauses for a moment, eyes searching for something in Lan Zhan’s face. He must find it, because he nods, lips quirked in a half smile, then starts down the road toward the Cloud Recesses without a word.
Lan Zhan barely takes the time to set down Bichen when they reach his rooms, doesn’t bother lighting a lamp or washing the collected dirt and sweat of the day off his face.
He pushes Wei Ying across the room, doesn't give him a chance to make his own way onto the bed. Grabs him by the thighs and drops him onto the silk blankets. Pulls at his robes until they give way, Wei Ying making a startled cry at the sounds of ripping cloth.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan breaths, falling over him, pinning his wrists to the bed and giving a firm thrust between his thighs. He's already hard, still roiling with anger, frustration, the urgent need to lose himself inside Wei Ying tonight.
"Yes," Wei Ying breathes back. His eyes are wide, just barely visible in the moonlight filtering through the window. Lan Zhan seizes his lips, more fight than kiss, licks into his mouth as he pulls the rest of Wei Ying's clothes off as quickly as his hands can manage.
He keeps Wei Ying's wrists trapped in one hand, pinned to the bed above his head even as he takes his cock in hand, pulls him hard and fast until he's leaking and whining for more. Lan Zhan reaches around Wei Ying's waist then, lifts him up and rolls him over without ceremony, reaches down and opens him up with nothing more than the wetness of Wei Ying's own arousal.
Wei Ying writhes under the intrusion, arches back into Lan Zhan's fingers and whines into the mattress in a way Lan Zhan knows from experience means More. Harder.
Lan Zhan obliges, pulls his fingers back too soon for the slide to be easy, then drives in with one long thrust, inexorable and unrelenting, as Wei Ying cries out below him.
He fucks him gracelessly, body pinning Wei Ying to the bed and hips driving into him with more strength than control. Wei Ying moans under it, voice muffled where his face is pressed into the mattress and hips rising to meet Lan Zhan's as much as he's able. Lan Zhan doesn't realize Wei Ying has come, untouched by anything but the smooth sheets below him, until he has given one final thrust and released inside him.
He pulls out slowly, careful now as he feels the last of his resentment leach out of him into the cool breeze filtering through the room. He runs a finger over the bruises he has dug into Wei Yings hips, tracing each mark he left with a careful touch. Wei Ying shivers under him, face still buried in the soft silks of the bed, ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.
Lan Zhan leaves the bed just long enough to grab a wet cloth, returns and pulls Wei Ying into his lap, carefully wipes off the mess they made, along with the sweat and dirt from the day.
Wei Ying looks up at him, a soft smile playing across his lips as he blinks sleepily.
"Thanks, Lan Zhan," he says, voice soft and skin glowing in the dim light of the moon. "I hope that helped."
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He feels calmer now, body no longer spoiling for a fight he doesn’t know how to start or how to win. But he is still more unsure than he’s ever been before.
What is the point of making a politically advantageous match if they don’t use that power to help? To make the world a more just place? Why is Lan Zhan doing this, if not to help uphold the principles of the Lan Sect? Not the rules about proper care for one’s attire or how loudly one should slurp their soup, but the rules that matter.
Lan Zhan has never differentiated between them before.
He thinks that, perhaps, he should be concerned about the direction his thoughts have travelled. But, for all he was taught adherence to the Lan Sect principles above all else, he was also taught to look at a problem critically. To diagnose the underlying concern on a night hunt, and root out the source of the evil, rather than its easily visible tendrils.
Wei Ying, breath soft and warm where he is curled into Lan Zhan’s side, breaks approximately half a dozen rules every time he steps foot in the Cloud Recesses. There is also a seven year old girl who is still alive tonight because of him. Who will live to have more imaginary tea ceremonies on the floor of her parents’ humble but well-loved home.
Wei Ying pats at his cheek sleepily, then nestles deeper into the blankets, pulling Lan Zhan down next to him.
"Sleep," he murmurs into Lan Zhan's shoulder. And Lan Zhan does.
---
Wei Ying blinks awake the next morning with Lan Zhan's hand firm on his shoulder. The filter of light coming through the window is rosy and soft, and combined with the way Wei Ying's body is desperate to roll over and go back to sleep he suspects it's horrifyingly early.
"Lan Zhan, what're you..." he yawns widely, attempts to shove his head into the dark warmth of Lan Zhan's chest. "Sleep?"
"Wei Ying, please?" Lan Zhan says in reply. His voice is soft, and his hand is still firm on Wei Ying's shoulder.
"Mm, okay okay." Wei Ying doesn't move, but he does force himself to look up at Lan Zhan instead of closing his eyes and drifting off again.
"Want to show you something."
Wei Ying drags himself a bit more upright at the tenor of Lan Zhan's voice. Looks over and notices his dizi is on the bed next to them. Lan Zhan must have brought it over before he woke Wei Ying.
"Time’sit?" Wei Ying slurs. He pushes himself the rest of the way upright and peers at the rosy glow of sunrise visible through the widow. "You want to show me something?"
Wei Ying can feel an ache in his back when he finally pulls himself out of bed, and a lingering soreness between his legs that reminds him with sudden clarity of last night's activities.
"Can't believe you’d give me such a workout at night, then drag me awake so early," Wei Ying whines as he gets dressed, Lan Zhan carefully helping him slip on a clean set of crisp white under robes pulled from his own chests. He gets a slight furrow of Lan Zhan's brow in return, and turns to give him a soft kiss before he can worry Wei Ying is being serious.
"So demanding, Gege. What did you want to show me?"
Wei Ying is startled when Lan Zhan pulls him out of his rooms, into the cool, crisp early morning air. He's even more surprised when they head toward the center of the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying is less recognizable perhaps, dressed in the pale blue and white of Lan Zhan's spare robes, but he still doesn't belong here. Doesn't know what Lan Zhan is thinking, risking being seen like this.
They don't run into anyone, though, so perhaps Lan Zhan knows what he's doing. Had woken Wei Ying at such an unholy hour for a reason.
Soon Wei Ying is blinking up at the austere front of an important looking building, sign marking it as the Cloud Recesses library.
"You took me to look at... books?" he asks, tentative, but there's a thrum of excitement growing in his chest. Lan Zhan has brought him Gusu texts before, both originals that must be common enough he could take them out of the Cloud Recesses, and copies Lan Zhan had made himself, which always made Wei Ying feel an odd mix of warmth and confusion.
Lan Zhan hums in response, wraps his fingers around one of Wei Ying's wrists and pulls him inside.
There are several large desks in the main room, surrounded by walls of books and the lingering scent of incense and parchment. Lan Zhan doesn't stop at any of them, though, just pulls Wei Ying through the room until they reach a small bookshelf tucked away near the back wall. Wei Ying is peering at the titles with interest when Lan Zhan reaches out and, with a wave of spiritual energy, suddenly the shelf is swinging open, revealing a stairway to another room entirely.
"Lan Zhan, is this..." Wei Ying starts, because he's pretty sure he, of all people, is not supposed to be sneaking into secret Lan sect dungeons, even if he's absolutely dying to know what's been hidden there. But before he can finish Lan Zhan has pushed him inside and closed the door behind them, sealing it shut with another flick of energy.
Wei Ying makes his way down the stairs and quickly realizes this isn't a dungeon. So he's probably not being brought here to be tortured, he thinks with a laugh, though if Lan Zhan asked politely that could be fun, actually...
The room is dimly lit, dust motes floating through the few slivers of light trickling in through high windows, and clearly rarely trafficked. Wei Ying suspects only the highest level cultivators even know it exists, much less how to get in. There are more texts lining the shelves, ancient looking scrolls and carefully bound books practically vibrating with complex sealing charms.
"What are we doing here, Lan Zhan? This where you keep your secret pornography?" Wei Ying asks, because he's feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. Doesn't know how else to react to Lan Zhan bringing him into a place like this.
The tips of Lan Zhan's ears turn red, but he doesn't respond. Instead takes his guqin out of his bag, sets it carefully on an artfully carved low table, then motions for Wei Ying to join him.
"Needed somewhere private to teach you this," Lan Zhan says, when Wei Ying takes a seat next to him.
"Teach me what?" Wei Yings asks.
In answer, Lan Zhan pulls over a small, cloth-bound book. He flips it open, and Wei Ying realizes it's musical notations.
"Musical cultivation."
Wei Ying's eyes go wide. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't experimented a bit with his dizi. Worked to channel his spiritual energy through the tentative notes he has learned to play. But he would need to spend a lot of concentrated time — more time than he has between night hunts and Lan Zhan — to get beyond a few flickering wisps of power.
Now Lan Zhan is offering to teach him. There's no way this is sanctioned by the Lan Sect. Wei Ying would know that even if they weren't hiding in a secret library dungeon right now.
"Are you sure?"
Wei Ying reaches out, trails a finger over the careful brushstrokes. He doesn't know how the writing under his fingers translates to the surge of power he's seen Lan Zhan direct through his guqin, but he's aching to learn.
"Wei Ying is doing good things," Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying looks up from the page at that, startled. Lan Zhan stops, looks like he is searching for words, then speaks again.
"Wei Ying is doing good things, and this will help. This should be used to do... good things."
Wei Ying would laugh if he weren't so stunned. Apparently, Lan Zhan trusts him with this. Thinks his haphazard attempts to make a living through night hunting are greater than Wei Ying has ever considered them.
He wants to argue, but more than that he wants, so badly, to learn. And no matter what Lan Zhan says, Wei Ying has never been a good enough person to turn down a chance like this.
He flips Chenqing between his fingers, catches it firmly in his palm, then turns to Lan Zhan.
"So. Where do we start."
They begin, slowly at first, just a few tentative pushes of energy channeled through the notes under Lan Zhan’s watchful eye. Lan Zhan places a finger firmly on Wei Ying’s wrist, marking the pulse there as he plays. He hums in approval when Wei Ying draws a slow and lilting melody from his dizi, the sound throbbing with energy, a line running from Lan Zhan’s hands on his meridians, through the dizi, directly into the heart of his golden core.
Wei Ying feels like this, more than anything they’ve done in the bedroom, is the most intimate he and Lan Zhan have ever been. It feels like someone is holding his heart in their fist. He just hopes he survives the inevitable loss.
---
Wei Ying is halfway over the wall to the Cloud Recesses, a jar of loquat juice for Lan Zhan in one hand and plans for an especially educational afternoon running through his head, when he sees the party from Yunmeng Jiang arrive.
He doesn't startle when he notices the purple robes, the achingly familiar Lotus embroidery decorating the distant figures’ regalia. It’s more a well-worn thrum of longing at first. The ache of a long ago wound.
Then he sees Jiang Yanli step out of an elaborately decorated carriage.
It's like a knife in his chest, slicing the last remaining soft parts of him with impressive precision. He can feel himself bleeding out, even as he teeters on the edge of the wall, jade token digging into his clenched fist. A second blow rocks him as he sees Jiang Cheng step up beside her, wearing a scowl Wei Ying would recognize anywhere, no matter how long it's been since he's seen it last.
Wei Ying is back on the ground and halfway to Caiyi before he can stop to think.
His shijie is here. In the cloud recesses. Arriving with the kind of retinue suitable for a bride.
Wei Ying feels a pulse of anger race through him, and at least it isn’t the hollow clench at his heart from before. He grabs at the new emotion, feels his pulse start to race at the thought of Lan Zhan courting Jiang Yanli. Marrying her.
Wei Wuxian walks into the inn in a daze. Stands, alone, in his cramped room after carefully closing the door behind him and stares unseeing at the wall for a long moment. Then, a sharp crack as he sets the jar of juice down on his table hard enough that it shatters in his hand.
He watches as his scattered papers and one of Huaisang’s books are slowly stained bright orange. He’ll have to pay Huaisang for that, Wei Ying thinks, before he notices red mixing with orange and realizes he is bleeding from the shards of porcelain.
Wei Ying slumps down on his bed, tucking his bleeding hand into his robes to keep it from dripping on the mattress Lan Zhan bought him.
Of course Lan Zhan will marry Shijie. Anyone would be so lucky. And for all Wei Ying keeps himself as far from sect politics as possible, he knows it would be a good match.
Wei Ying can feel the walls of his tiny room closing in on him. He cannot believe Lan Zhan is going to spend time — a lifetime — with his shijie. With Jiang Cheng too, most likely. And Wei Ying will have to leave. Avoid Gusu the same way he avoids Yunmeng, for the good of everyone involved.
He can’t believe he just spent months teaching his sister’s future husband how to fuck good.
The horror of that thought does, at least, momentarily push away the burning ache of losing Lan Zhan.
---
Wei Ying is woken by the sound of pounding on his door later that night. Or possibly it's the next day. He's not entirely sure, blinking blearily up up at the ceiling, the sound of the door echoing in his aching head. Probably the inn's owner, pissed he didn't help close up last night.
There's light streaming in through his window, so that probably means it's morning now. Possibly the afternoon.
"I'll make it up later," Wei Ying yells at the door, though he suspects it comes out more an indistinguishable groan than anything else. He rolls over and buries his head in his pillow, trying to block out the sound and fall back asleep.
"Wei Ying," shouts a familiar voice, and it's the only warning he gets before the door bursts open with a flash of blue light.
"Lan Zhan? What're you..." Wei Ying starts, then stops because Lan Zhan is kneeling by his bed, holding Wei Ying's face between his hands.
"You didn't come..." Lan Zhan starts, then stops. "Last night."
Wei Ying blinks.
"You said you'd come and then... I thought you were hurt again."
"Sir?" a polite voice says from the doorway. Wei Ying looks away from Lan Zhan to see the inn's owner standing by the broken door. "Can I help you?"
Lan Zhan doesn't respond. Wei Ying blinks again.
"Did you come in through the front?" Wei Ying asks. He can see the inn owner's wife peering in through the door too, face a mix of scandalized and fascinated.
"I was worried, Wei Ying."
Suddenly the horror of the night before comes rushing back to him. He has to leave. He has to leave soon, if they've gotten to a point where one missed appointment has Lan Zhan storming his room, worried about his health.
"I'm fine, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says, steeling himself as best he can. "We should talk, though. Do you think you could..." he gives the door a pointed look where it's listing at a dangerous angle.
Lan Zhan looks confused on top of worried now, but he moves silently to push the door back into place. Wei Ying suspects the inn owners are still probably hovering outside, but at least they have the illusion of privacy for this.
Wei Ying swallows hard, choking back some unnamed emotion. Or, more accurately, an emotion he refuses to name.
"I think we're probably done with lessons now, don't you think, Lan er-gongzi?"
Now it's Lan Zhan's turn to blink in confusion. Wei Ying would find it cute if he weren't working so hard to fight past the clench of his chest.
"Done?"
"You've been such a good student. Everyone has to graduate some time, right?"
"Wei Ying. What are you talking about. Is that blood?" Lan Zhan is staring at the dark brown stains on Wei Ying's robes with horror.
“You’re getting married, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says carefully, ignoring Lan Zhan's question.
“Married?” Lan Zhan's eyes are wide.
“You’ve been meeting with potential spouses this whole time," Wei Ying continues. He pulls away from Lan Zhan's grip on his shoulders, the proximity suddenly unbearable. "You’ve told me about at least a dozen teas with that one cousin of the Jin sect heir.”
"I'm not going to marry the horrible Jin cousin,” Lan Zhan says.
"I think his name's Zixun," Wei Ying says back.
"I don't care.”
Lan Zhan’s voice is flat. Frustrated.
"Of course you're not going to marry a Jin now," Wei Ying explains carefully. He'd roll his eyes if he weren't too busy trying to breathe around the lump in his throat. "You're going to marry Shijie."
"Wei Ying."
"Please just..." Wei Ying is horrified to feel tears welling up in his eyes. He scrubs a hand across his face, turns to look anywhere but at the man across from him because it's too much, to convince himself to let this go while watching something devastatingly close to loss cross Lan Zhan's face.
The thought that this might have been possible, if things were different — in another life — is too much to bear here, at the end of it.
"Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be. I’ll be gone by next week, okay. Lanling is nice this time of year, and I’ve been getting antsy here anyway. You know this is the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place since..."
He can’t bring himself to say Yunmeng. Chokes on the word.
“Gone?” Lan Zhan says, breathless. His eyes have gone wide, and if Wei Ying didn’t know any better, he’d swear there were tears slipping down his cheeks, too. “Wei Ying, don’t...”
Lan Zhan doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, though, because that’s when the door slams open again, rocking fully off its frame this time, and in stomps a whirlwind of purple robes and angry shouting.
“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Ying says, almost too quiet to hear over the sound of stomping feet.
“Finally,” Jiang Cheng says, and the next thing he knows Wei Ying has been punched in the shoulder, then pulled into a crushing embrace.
By the time he surfaces again, Wei Ying’s shoulder aches and he’s gasping for air, though he’s not sure if that’s from the strength of the embrace or shock at seeing his brother, real and solid before him, after so many years.
“Why are you so hard to find, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng yells, then seems to notice the other person in the room. “What the hell is Lan Wangji doing here? Is he crying?”
Wei Ying doesn’t respond, because Jiang Yanli has just appeared at his door, and he can’t do anything but stare.
“A-Xian.”
Her voice is soft and so, so careful. Wei Ying barely notices he’s crying before she has reached out and pulled him into her arms.
"Shijie. What are you..." Wei Ying starts. He's overwhelmed with the familiarity of her touch. The soft smell of lotus and incense that's always clung to her robes.
"A-Xian," she says, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. "We finally found you. You've gotten so big."
He's outright crying now, doesn't care enough to try and stop. His shijie is here.
Shijie is here, and so is Lan Zhan.
"Congratulations, Shijie. You're going to be so happy with him."
Wei Ying pulls away from her embrace and turns to Lan Zhan, staring at the hem of his robes to avoid any chance of eye contact.
"Congratulations, Lan er-gonzi. I hope you and Shijie have a happy and fruitful marriage. I'll murder you if you do that rope thing with her."
"What marriage?" Lan Zhan says.
"What rope thing?” Jiang Yanli says.
"What the fuck is happening," Jiang Cheng says.
Wei Ying doesn't know how to respond.
"Wei Ying, what marriage," Lan Zhan repeats, looking betrayed and furious and wide-eyed in a way Wei Ying knows no one else would notice, but to him, after so many months, reads like a banner across Lan Zhan's face.
"That's the reason they came, isn't it? So you can marry Shijie and strengthen Gusu Lan and Yungmeng Jiang's relationship. It makes sense. It'll be a good match. I wish you well."
"A-Xian, that's not..." Yanli starts, but is cut off when Lan Zhan strides forward to stand too close to Wei Ying.
"I do not want to marry Jiang Yanli," Lan Zhan says firmly.
"Hey!" Wei Ying exclaims, offended on Shijie's behalf.
"Want to marry you."
And Wei Ying can't continue his protest because he is speechless. Certain he can't have heard that right.
"Me?" Wei Ying finally stammers.
"Does Wei Ying not want..." Lan Zhan starts. Wei Ying doesn't let him finish.
"Want. Do want. Lan Zhan."
Someone hisses "what the fuck" behind him, but Wei Ying is too busy kissing Lan Zhan to pay much attention.
---
"We started hearing rumors you were in Gusu, A-Xian," Jiang Yanli says. She's looking at Wei Ying so softly that Lan Zhan can't even feel that annoyed that he is sitting in this cramped room, having a polite conversation with the scions of Yunmeng Jiang instead of divesting Wei Ying of his clothing and showing him exactly how much he does want to marry him.
Be married. To Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan hadn't put it into words before he'd told Wei Ying just now. Not even in the privacy of his own thoughts. But he knows it's true. That it's been true for some time now.
There was, probably, only so long he could keep putting off suitors in favor of spending long hours with Wei Ying in his bed. In his life.
Wei Ying is looking back at his sister like he doesn't quite believe she's real. Lan Zhan squeezes his hand where it is tangled with Wei Ying's on the bed. There are still ominously blood-like stains on the mattress that Lan Zhan will have to interrogate soon. Wei Ying will hide injuries until they destroy him, and Lan Zhan has made it his solemn duty to ensure that doesn't happen ever again. For now though, he's content to sit in silence while Wei Ying reconnects with his siblings.
"A-Jie was finally free of the peacock last spring," Jiang Cheng says, his voice gratingly loud, "but we couldn't come here until now because it would have looked bad."
Lan Zhan suspects Jiang Yanli might be less pleased with the dissolution of her engagement than her brother seems, if the sudden tightness in her posture is anything to go by. Jiang Cheng seems to catch at least a glimmer of self awareness, though, because he quickly changes the subject.
"You know father wouldn't have pushed for it but things are... complicated right now. With Qishan being such a bunch of assholes lately."
"A-Cheng," Jiang Yanli chides, but she's smiling again.
"With Qishan being so difficult lately," Jiang Cheng corrects. "We pushed him to send us, because we'd heard rumors you were here. I thought all the talk of a mysterious rogue cultivator seducing the Second Jade of Lan were hysterical but apparently you've been busy, Wei Wuxian, what the fuck?"
"There are rumors?" Wei Ying asks, sounding horrified. This is news to Lan Zhan as well. The old fear of Wei Ying being ashamed to be seen with him rushes back, briefly, before Wei Ying turns to him and says, concern lacing every word, "Lan Zhan, I'm destroying your reputation. I'm so sorry."
Lan Zhan kisses him again at that, pointedly ignoring the choked noises Jiang Cheng is making in the background.
"Don't care," Lan Zhan says, finally pulling back. "Wei Ying is good."
Jiang Yanli yelps at that, though unlike her brother it seems more with delight than disgust.
"Oh god," Wei Ying says, eyes going distant suddenly. "Your reputation. My reputation. Lan Zhan, you're supposed to marry for your sect. I'm not exactly going to help Gusu Lan gain political power."
"Don't care about politics," Lan Zhan says firmly.
"But your uncle does," Wei Ying responds. "And you care about your uncle."
Lan Zhan falls silent at that. It's alarmingly easy to ignore the rest of the world when he is with Wei Ying. But he is not... wrong about this. There was a reason Lan Zhan agreed to an arranged marriage in the first place. His sect is vulnerable. Not just their political power, but the people. Their disciples. The families of Gusu. His brother.
"About that, A-Xian," Jiang Yanli cuts in delicately. "I have an idea. We can fix this."
Lan Zhan feels an unfamiliar hope blooming in him as Jiang Yanli explains her plan. He suspects he's starting to look at her with nearly as much adoration as Wei Ying, at this point.
Wei Ying, on the other hand, keeps making noises of protest.
"You can't... I don't want you to risk anything. Not for me."
"A-Xian," Jiang Yanli says at the same time Jiang Cheng growls and Lan Zhan hisses "Wei Ying," steel in his voice.
"I just mean," Wei Ying says, holding up his hands in surrender, "I left for a reason. Are you sure this won't just make Madam Yu furious again?"
"Oh, it will," Jiang Cheng says.
"We need this as much as Gusu Lan does," Jiang Yanli says more diplomatically. "She will agree."
Wei Ying still seems skeptical, but he nods when Lan Zhan squeezes his hand tightly. "Okay. Let's do it."
Jiang Yanli smiles brightly, and Jiang Cheng huffs out an annoyed "finally" that is verging distinctly on fond.
---
The first sign Wei Ying sees that something weird is happening is when a woman from the market in Caiyi goes starry-eyed over him and gives him a pork bun free of charge. She’s not even one of the grannies Wei Ying has sweet talked over the past year, who love nothing more than to lecture him about watching his manners and making something of his life, but also slip him unsold food and pinch his cheeks if he stops by at the end of the day.
“Thank you for all you do, Wei-laozu,” the woman says, as she hands him the steaming bun.
“What?” Wei Ying says, but he eats it anyway. Good food is good food.
It’s only a few days later as he’s wandering back to the inn, twirling his dizi idly in one hand, that he sees a passel of young Lan cultivators approaching from the other direction. Must be school field trip day, Wei Ying thinks with a laugh, and prepares to step to the side of the road and let them pass unimpeded. He doesn’t get the chance, though, because one of them notices him and gasps, eyes wide and face red with surprise.
“Did I do something?” Wei Ying asks, worried his reputation has gotten out in front of him again, stories mutating into something more sensational and dangerous than reality. The next thing he knows, though, another of the baby Lans has stopped in the middle of the street, practically crashing into his friend and whispering, breathless and starstruck, “Wei Wuxian?”
Suddenly Wei Ying is crowded by little Lans, their eagerness slipping adorably through their Cloud Recess training, asking him to tell them all about his night hunting exploits.
The questions are predictable, as is the mix of reality and legend they’re detailing to him, hardly letting him get a word in edgewise to tell the real stories. But Wei Ying never thought he’d be doing this in the middle of Caiyi, a short walk from the cultivation heart of the Gusu Lan.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Wei Ying says later that night, curled in tightly to Lan Zhan’s side and recounting the weirdness of the day.
“I think your sister is happening,” Lan Zhan replies.
Wei Ying shoves himself upright. Stares at Lan Zhan with wide eyes.
“What?”
“What do you think she meant by ‘fix this for you’?” Lan Zhan asks. His eyes are bright with restrained laughter, and Wei Ying stops for a moment to remember the past version of himself that wouldn’t have noticed. To be thankful his current self can and does get to see this. Then his brain clicks back to the topic at hand.
“How did Shijie make a bunch of baby disciples freak out over me, exactly?”
“She’s... correcting your reputation,” Lan Zhan replies.
Wei Ying quirks his head. “So she’s convincing people I’m not a terrifying murderer. I hope she’s not lying too much.”
“Not lies,” Lan Zhan says. His voice is firm, and he pulls Wei Ying in tighter, arm warm and solid around his waist. “Corrections.”
“Mm,” Wei Ying replies, but he lets himself kiss a light trail down Lan Zhan’s bare chest instead of arguing further.
---
Lan Zhan is unused to keeping things from his brother. As a child Xichen had always been able to easily read whatever worry or annoyance Lan Zhan was feeling on his face, even when everyone else in the world seemed to find him inscrutably closed.
That has become less true over the years, as they became more busy with cultivation and taking their place among Lan sect business, but Lan Zhan hadn't ever felt like he was truly hiding things from his brother until Wei Ying came into his life.
It hadn't been intentional, at least not at first. More propriety mixed with embarrassment mixed with Lan Zhan's conviction that their arrangement would only last long enough to prepare him for marriage.
It's laughable, how much he'd missed the mark on that one.
He thinks about duty, to his sect, to his family, as he sits down across the small table in Xichen's quarters and pours two cups of tea.
"Brother," Lan Zhan starts after the silence has stretched long enough that Xichen is starting to look concerned. "I wanted to talk to you about the marriage arrangements."
"Someone finally catch your eye?" Xichen asks with a smile, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Lan Zhan stares firmly at his own tea, can feel his face flushing and finds he's powerless to stop it.
"Wait. Did someone catch your eye, Wangji?" Xichen says, voice laced with disbelief and amusement.
"You said once," Lan Zhan forces himself to say. "That I did not have to go through with an arranged marriage. If it was too much."
"Wangji," Xichen responds, all the humor gone from his voice now.
"I cannot marry any of the suitors who have come here," Lan Zhan continues, before he loses the nerve to speak. "I am hopeful I can still provide a good ally for our sect, but even if I cannot..."
Lan Zhan looks up, forces himself to look his brother firmly in the eye.
"I have been spending time with Wei Wuxian. We have become close."
His brother hums in response, and Lan Zhan gets the sense he's not surprised by this admission.
"We went night hunting recently." Lan Zhan says, and if his brother is confused by the jump from marriage to this he does not say it. "Wei Ying saved more lives in one night than our cultivators have in months."
"Wei Wuxian is a strong cultivator," Xichen replies. "Wangji, if you do not want to get married..."
"I am getting married," Lan Zhan says, and sees his brother's face shift with surprise. "I will be marrying Wei Ying."
There's another long moment of silence. Lan Zhan takes a sip of his tea.
“You are planning on marrying. Wei Wuxian.”
“We are not ready to make our intentions public yet. I hope you will respect that need for privacy,” Lan Zhan adds, voice steel around his formal, polite language, “but yes. I intend to marry Wei Ying.”
"When you said you were hopeful to provide a good ally..."
"There is a chance he will be taken back as a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. He has already rekindled his relationship with Sect Leader Jiang's children. They think of him as a brother."
Lan Zhan feels a swell of warmth as he speaks of Wei Ying's siblings. For all he finds the Jiang sect heir... grating, too loud and too impulsive by half, Wei Ying had been so happy to get his siblings back. Sitting here, across from his own brother, Lan Zhan is fiercely happy for him.
“Ah," Xichen says. "Deeper ties with Yunmeng Jiang would be helpful. But you certainly picked a unique way to go about it."
He hums in contemplation, takes a sip of his own tea, then continues. "Uncle thinks he is a bad influence on you.”
Lan Zhan does not dignify that with a response.
“Wangji,” Xichen says, tentative, “there are many people who think ill of Wei Wuxian. Even more who see him as an... entertaining diversion. Good for a story, but not fit for proper cultivation circles.”
Lan Zhan bites back a snarl. Settles for staring at his brother, eyes hot and jaw firm.
Xichen goes silent for a moment, clearly thinking through his next words carefully. Finally, he says simply, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan replies. With anyone else he’d have stormed out of the room by now, but he wants his brother to understand. Needs him to understand.
There’s another long silence, as Lan Zhan meets his brother’s eyes with an unflinching stare. Finally Xichen sighs and lets the stiffness bleed out of his posture. “If Uncle goes into qi deviation you’re dealing with it.”
Lan Zhan snorts with laughter before he can stop himself. Xichen’s eyes are sparkling with amusement across from him. Possibly Wei Ying has been a bad influence on both of them.
---
Lan Zhan has a less charitable view of Jiang Wanyin when they are standing in a heavily forested area just outside of Yunmeng several days later.
He and Jiang Yanli had shown up at Lan Zhan's rooms earlier that morning, Jiang Wanyin looking anywhere but at a still sleep rumpled Wei Ying as he'd invited his brother out to Caiyi for the day.
"You as well, Lan er-gongzi," Jiang Yanli had added politely, and Lan Zhan ignored several tasks he had planned for the day to go with them.
They'd taken Wei Ying to his favorite noodle shop for lunch, insisted on buying him new robes and a far too expensive hair piece because "I haven't been able to spoil my A-Xian in so long!"
They're soaring west over an endless stretch of forest, on Jiang Wanyin's suggestion they get away from the city for a bit, when Wei Ying suddenly stops Suibian with a jerk. Lan Zhan looks over, confused, and then almost immediately frightened by the way Wei Ying has gone stiff and pale, eyes staring unseeing at the horizon.
Wei Ying is muttering something, and as Lan Zhan changes direction and flies toward him he can hear a steady stream of "No... I can't..."
"Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan asks, reaching for him, but Wei Ying is already heading down, landing with a graceless thump on the forest floor and tripping off of Suibian. Lan Zhan lands after him, rushing to where Wei Ying is hunched over next to a trickle of a stream winding between the trees.
Lan Zhan kneels down next to him. Holds his face in his hands and whispers "Wei Ying, look at me. You are here, Wei Ying. I am with you. Tell me what is wrong."
Wei Ying looks up, still pale and shaky. "We're going to Lotus Pier."
It's not a question, and Lan Zhan whips around to stare at Jiang Wanyin, who has just landed behind him.
"Is he right?" Lan Zhan asks.
Jiang Wanyin huffs and turns away, which is answer enough. Lan Zhan is not letting him make any more decisions. Ever.
“Please, Wei Ying. We should have told you, but this is. This is so important,” Jiang Yanli says. Lan Zhan is tempted to push her away as well, to take Wei Ying in his arms and fly them somewhere no one will be able to find them ever again. She must have known this plan too. He cannot fathom what she was thinking.
But Wei Ying looks up at his sister's words, eyes wide and vulnerable as she takes his hand in hers.
“For this to work you have to speak with our parents. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
“We both will,” comes a too loud voice from behind them, and apparently Jiang Wanyin has decided to be involved again, Lan Zhan thinks with a scowl.
Wei Ying looks up at his brother hopefully, though, so Lan Zhan doesn’t fight when Jiang Wanyin puts a hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze.
“Come on, Wei Wuxian. Your boyfriend might be up for carrying you, but I’m not gonna.”
Wei Ying laughs, even as Lan Zhan sucks in an angry breath, and a moment later he’s back on Suibian, pulling into the air and continuing on toward Lotus Pier. Lan Zhan mounts Bichen and follows with a scowl.
---
After, when Lan Zhan has successfully refrained from killing either of Wei Wuxian's adoptive parents. When Jiang Yanli has artfully led her mother toward the conclusion that Wei Ying marrying into the Lan Sect would both be politically prudent and keep him away from Lotus Pier without any scandal involved. When Jiang Wanyin has gone from looking more like a kicked dog, cowering before his mother, than Lan Zhan could have ever imagined, to loudly announcing that Wei Wuxian was his da shixiong and always would be.
When Jiang Fengmian has, rightly, miraculously, welcomed Wei Ying back to the Jiang Sect and given his official blessing for his betrothal to Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan.
After all that, Lan Zhan pulls back from the crushing grip he's had on Wei Ying's hand for hours, ever since they landed at the gates of Lotus Pier. He steps away for just a moment, as Wei Ying prepares to mount Suibian and head back to Caiyi, still looking shaky and clearly ready to be somewhere less fraught.
Lan Zhan moves toward Jiang Yanli and speaks, quietly enough that he will not be overheard. "Why did you not tell him?"
"Hello, Lan er-gongzi," Jiang Yanli says, polite as always, her gaze unflinching opposite his.
Lan Zhan waits patiently for an answer.
"We lost our brother once, Lan er-gongzi," she says after a moment. "For five years, he has been just out of reach. I wasn't willing to risk him running away again."
Lan Zhan thinks that it would be far too easy to underestimate Wei Ying's sister.
"Do not do so again."
"I hope I don't have to," she says, then reaches out and pats him on the cheek. "I am honored to have such a devoted new brother-in-law. I know you will take good care of A-Xian."
"Have you properly threatened each other?" Wei Ying asks Lan Zhan, as they mount their swords and head out.
"Mn," Lan Zhan responds, and lets Wei Ying interpret that as he will.
---
Wei Ying is nearly dead on his feet by the time they get back to the Cloud Recesses late that evening, clutching at Lan Zhan's hand from the moment they step off their swords until they reach the dark of his room.
It's well past curfew, but Lan Zhan doesn't want to let Wei Ying go to bed hungry, so he urges him out of his clothes and into bed, wraps him firmly in a blanket, then heads off to the kitchens.
He returns a short while later, bowl of congee in one hand and a bottle of chili oil he's long since taken to asking the grannies who run the Gusu Lan kitchens to keep stocked for him in the other. Wei Ying is still awake, somehow. He has Chenqin in his hands, running his fingers over it in the pattern of notes but not playing anything.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, and sets the food down in front of him when Wei Ying looks up. "Eat."
Wei Ying eats by rote, though he does give Lan Zhan a familiar, warm smile when he sees the chili oil. When he finishes, Lan Zhan takes the bowl away, leaves it by the door to be dealt with in the morning, then pushes Wei Ying back down into bed.
"Lan Zhan, I think I need to tell you something."
The words are so quiet, Lan Zhan almost misses them.
"Mn?" Lan Zhan asks, wrapping himself around Wei Ying.
"I need to..." Wei Ying yawns, wide and loud, then goes silent.
"Tell me in the morning," Lan Zhan says, and pulls Wei Ying in tighter. Wei Ying hums in response, and Lan Zhan can feel him go still in his arms, breathing evening out as he drifts into sleep.
—
Lan Zhan wakes up the same time as always the next morning. Wei Ying is still fast asleep next to him, sprawled bonelessly in Lan Zhan's bed. Lan Zhan is, for perhaps the first time in his life, tempted to go back to sleep as well. To stay in bed until the sun has fully risen, and to wake with Wei Ying. But he has something he has to do, and he does not want to wait any longer.
He dresses quietly, careful not to wake Wei Ying. Returns the dishes from last night to the kitchens. Then heads toward the main offices, where he knows his uncle will already be at work.
As he speaks, Lan Zhan is, very briefly, concerned Lan Qiren is going into qi deviation. Or perhaps having an actual heart attack.
Once Lan Zhan has finished talking, his uncle opens his mouth to respond, then closes it without saying a word. Then he does it again. He looks so much like a bullfrog who has been struck by a silencing spell that Lan Zhan finds the anxiety crowding his chest is slowly morphing into laughter he has to force down.
“Betrothed. To Wei Wuxian.”
Lan Zhan bites back another laugh. Carefully schools his face so there’s no hint of amusement on it. Then hums in affirmation.
“And you did not think to speak with me.”
“I am speaking with you now, Uncle.”
Lan Zhan nods his head deferentially, and partially to hide the smirk he is having more and more trouble hiding.
“Wei Wuxian. Who has no formal cultivation training and no sect allegiance,” his uncle continues, and suddenly Lan Zhan is no longer amused.
“I would marry Wei Ying if he were penniless and powerless,” Lan Zhan says. Lan Qiren opens his mouth to respond, but Lan Zhan does not let him.
“I have devoted myself to our sect, Uncle. To our family. But this is...” he pauses again. Looks to firm his resolve then realizes, suddenly, he doesn’t have to. That this is the easiest decision Lan Zhan has ever made.
“This is not up for debate. If you will not give your blessing, then we will marry without your blessing.”
“Wangji.” His uncle’s voice is sharp, but there’s an undercurrent of sadness to it. Of exhaustion that reminds Lan Zhan just how many years Lan Qiren has been holding the Lan Sect together. Lan Zhan feels his anger soften, even if his resolve doesn’t waver.
“I hope,” he says with a nod of his head, “that we do not need to do so.”
He turns to leave then, waits until he is halfway out the door to say “Wei Wuxian is a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang and is brother to the Jiang Sect Heir. He has Jiang Fengmian's blessing for this union. You may speak to my brother if you wish to know more.”
Then he goes, only half thinking of the stunned silence he’s left behind in his uncle’s office, heart already turning toward Wei Ying, waiting for him in his rooms.
Wei Ying is just waking when Lan Zhan returns. This time he does indulge himself, shucking all but his inner robes and climbing back into bed.
"You let me sleep," Wei Ying says, grabbing at Lan Zhan's wrist as he moves in close. "Where'd you go this morning?"
"Had to see my uncle."
"Was he busy inventing new rules?" Wei Ying asks with a small smile.
Lan Zhan hums and traces a finger idly along the lines of Wei Ying's palm, pleased when he shivers under the touch.
"Told him about us."
Wei Ying goes stiff under Lan Zhan's touch at that. He looks up, startled, to see Wei Ying staring at him with wide eyes.
"Wei Ying, are you angry?" Lan Zhan says, suddenly panicked. Did Wei Ying not want his uncle to know? Even after settling things in Lotus Pier?
"Am I angry," Wei Ying mutters, more to himself than anything, then he ducks his head into the crook of Lan Zhan's neck.
"Tried to tell you last night but you had to go and feed me and put me to bed, and it was so nice I didn't want to... but then you ran off and did that before I even woke up this morning, Lan Zhan, how am I supposed to handle you."
Lan Zhan wraps an arm around Wei Ying, working hard to interpret the word's Wei Ying is muttering into his neck. He remembers, now, that Wei Ying had something he wanted to talk about last night.
"Wei Ying?"
Wei Ying must take that as the encouragement it is, because he pulls back a second later, still mostly in Lan Zhan's lap but looking pointedly over his shoulder and out the window.
"Our, uh. Lessons."
Lan Zhan hums in acknowledgement.
"I meant to tell you earlier, I really did. But at first I didn't think it was going to last that long anyway, and then it did last and I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want it to end, you know? And then suddenly Shijie was there, and Jiang Cheng, and I couldn't very well tell you in front of them..."
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, and wraps his fingers around Wei Ying's wrist, trying to bring him back to earth a bit.
"Right. So. I had no idea what I was doing. I've never had sex with anyone before you, Lan Zhan. I'd barely even kissed anyone before. Most of the stuff I taught you came from books I got off Nie Huaisang and those illustrations are not always accurate. I'm sorry."
Lan Zhan blinks once. Tries to remember how to breathe properly.
"I almost blurted it out on the flight home last night, but I didn't want you to fall off your sword or something," Wei Ying finishes.
Lan Zhan's brain catches on the word home. He feels so warm with it that it takes him a moment to realize Wei Ying is chewing at his bottom lip nervously.
"Is there something else?"
Wei Ying releases his lip and huffs a laugh. "Something else? Isn't that enough? I mean. I didn't think you'd want to, y'know, not get married over it. At least I hope you don't? But if you're mad I understand."
Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying toward him at that, catches him in a kiss and doesn't let go for a long moment, as much to stop himself from shaking over the thought of not getting married as to reassure his fiancé.
"Were you worried about this last night?" Lan Zhan asks, when they finally come up for air. Wonders if this is part of why Wei Ying had been so exhausted the night before.
"A bit? It was mostly..." he waves vaguely at the air. "I haven't been to Lotus Pier in years, Lan Zhan. It was mostly that. But... a little bit this. You're really not mad?"
Lan Zhan laughs out loud.
"I've been trying," Lan Zhan says, carefully and deliberately, "very hard to not be jealous. Of anyone who had been with you before me. I thought you and Huaisang might have..."
He trails off as Wei Ying starts shaking with laughter as well.
"Did not know you were just buying pornography from him," Lan Zhan says. He brushes a wisp of hair out of Wei Ying's eyes, lets his fingers linger a bit too long on the soft skin of his cheek.
"Oh, he gave them to me for free," Wei Ying says.
"Generous," Lan Zhan replies. "I worked very hard not to act violently toward him out of jealousy."
"Oh my god, Lan Zhan. Nooo, don't do that, ha ha."
"I wouldn't have," Lan Zhan sniffs, and does not mention that he had very much imagined doing so many times over. From the smirk on Wei Ying's face, he suspects he knows though.
Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying in, wraps his arms around his waist and holds him against his chest as tightly as he can.
"Wei Ying." He pauses, nuzzles into Wei Ying's neck, sucks a bruise against his jaw, then leans back. "I love you.”
Lan Zhan lets the silence sit for a moment, then says, “Also, If I had known you were going off books and not practical experience, I could have contributed more. I have several new resources I've found."
He leans over and digs under his bed until he finds what he's looking for, then sits back up and puts the book in Wei Ying's lap. "I would like to start with page eighty-seven."
---
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, and pokes him in the side. Lan Zhan doesn’t react, so Wei Ying frowns and pokes him harder. This time, Lan Zhan reaches out and grabs Wei Ying’s hand, lacing their fingers together tightly. An excellent outcome, if Wei Ying says so himself.
“Lan Zhan, do you think your uncle’s head could actually pop off his body?”
To their right, Jiang Cheng is scowling. Wei Ying gives him a chipper wave with his free hand, which only makes the scowl deepen.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies after a moment, voice soft in Wei Ying’s ear.
“Mm?” Wei Ying hums, urging him to continue.
“Is Madam Yu is naturally this shade of purple, or has she dressed up for the occasion?”
Wei Ying snorts loudly, causing everyone in the room to turn and glare at them. Or more specifically at Wei Ying. Lan Zhan does not correct their misimpression, but he also doesn’t let go of Wei Ying’s hand.
Madam Yu really does look like she’s choking on something right now. Wei Ying suspects she’d rather tongue-kiss Zidian than be standing here, celebrating the official engagement of Wei Wuxian, disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, to the Second Jade of Lan. By the pinched look on Lan Zhan’s uncle’s face, she’s not alone in that sentiment.
And yet, here they are. Wei Ying is wrapped up in wildly uncomfortable formal robes, with Jiang Cheng looking smug to his right and Shijie softly crying to his left. (Wei Ying is pretty sure they’re happy tears, so he doesn’t even have to murder anyone over it.) And he has Lan Zhan, hand warm in his, whispering jokes no one would believe of him into Wei Ying’s ear.
There will be a feast later tonight, and the food will even be tolerable because Wei Ying got nosy about Lan Zhan’s papers and saw the request for chili oil to be brought in for the Yunmeng contingent. After, there will be dancing, and music, and no alcohol, but that’s a worthy sacrifice for the pleased look that had washed over Lan Zhan’s face when, despite his obvious disapproval of Wei Wuxian’s general character, his uncle insisted on hosting the engagement festivities in the Cloud Recesses.
And later tonight Wei Ying will go to bed with his fiancé, and they will practice page eighty-seven until the wee hours of the morning, then wake up and face the rest of their lives together.
Epilogue:
They are married two months later at a lavish celebration in Lotus Pier, partially to cement Wei Ying's position as newly instated disciple, and partially because, "Lan Zhan, light of my life, soulmate in this world and the next, you know I love the Cloud Recesses, but you all *really* don't know how to throw a party."
After Wei Ying’s post-wedding hangover finally abates, they send a polite but firm letter off to the Cloud Recesses informing Lan Zhan’s brother and uncle not to expect them back for at least a month, then journey out before there’s time to receive a response. They spend the next few weeks wandering from town to town, hunting ferocious corpses, dealing with whatever supernatural trouble the local villagers have to report, and ruining more than their fair share of beds in small inns far and wide.
They're in a small tavern on the outskirts of Caiyi one night when they overhear nearby a group of men one table over gossiping about the Second Jade of Lan’s new fiance, that terrifying Yiling Rogue. How someone as uptight as Lan Wangji had ended up with someone so cool. Wei Ying joins them, says he’s heard Hanguang-Jun is hung like a horse and fucks like one too, then accidentally knocks their drinks over as he leaves to follow Lan Zhan back to their rooms where he’s going to make his husband rail him into tomorrow.
Notes:
Assume that after this the rest of canon happens, but all the people you like survive thanks to the power of really good Wangxian sex.
Also, some point a few years down the line, Nie Huaisang is like "Wei Wuxian, it's lucky you did marry Lan Wangji, because with everything you taught him he would have *really* freaked out anyone else he might have married."
Which is how Wei Wuxian learns that most people don't have as creative and frequent a sex life as he and his husband do. He feels sorry for those people.
Huge thanks to the entire group chat who put up with just months of me bugging them about this. It was supposed to be 10K and finished in June. This... did not happen. But, despite all the angsting about how to capitalize honorifics and what the hell the timeline of MDZS actually is, and also the full forty-five minutes I spent reading a Nasa article about ginseng farming before giving up and deciding Gusu could have little a wild ginseng, as a treat, writing this thing was honestly a treat. Highly recommend it was a way of distracting yourself from the world.
Or, to put it more simply: I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.
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