Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Gusu night air, usually a whisper of cool bamboo and distant bells, was thick with the scent of spices and sizzling oil from the bustling street below. Inside the lively restaurant, lanterns cast a warm, golden glow on the faces of patrons, their chatter a vibrant hum. Wei Wuxian, ever the radiating core of mirth and mischief, found himself perfectly at home amidst the clamor. A bowl of Emperor’s Smile, its fragrant aroma promising blissful oblivion, rested comfortably in his hand as he regaled Lan Wangji with an animated tale of a wild hunt gone amusingly wrong.

Lan Wangji, a serene anchor in the lively current, listened with his customary quiet attention, his golden eyes occasionally straying to the dance of shadows on Wei Wuxian’s expressive face. He had his own cup of jasmine tea, steaming gently, beside Wei Wuxian’s wine. Immersed in Wei Wuxian's recounting of a particularly clumsy ghost, and perhaps a touch more absorbed in the sheer joy radiating from his husband than usual, Lan Wangji reached out, not for his familiar tea, but for the bowl closest to him.

He took a slow, deliberate sip.

The effect was instantaneous, a ripple across the placid surface of a pond. A delicate flush, like the first blush of dawn, crept up Lan Wangji's neck and bloomed across the tips of his ears. His straight shoulders seemed to soften imperceptibly, his usually piercing gaze losing its sharp focus, replaced by a soft, bewildered innocence. His lips, usually set in a firm, elegant line, now curved into a small, utterly adorable pout.

"Wei Ying," he murmured, his voice softer than the rustle of silk, a mere child's whisper in the boisterous room. "What... what is this?" He held the bowl out slightly, his brow furrowed in the most endearing confusion Wei Wuxian had ever witnessed.

Wei Wuxian, mid-sentence about a flying zombie, paused. His eyes, keen and bright, immediately registered the change. His Lan Zhan, his stoic, unyielding Hanguang-Jun, was pouting. His heart did a delighted little flutter-kick. Oh, the sheer, intoxicating cuteness of it!

He reached out, taking the bowl gently from Lan Wangji’s unresisting fingers. "Lan Zhan," he cooed, a soft, indulgent smile spreading across his face, "you drank my Emperor's Smile instead of your tea." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. "My silly, cute pouty baby." He reached out, gently caressing Lan Wangji’s cheek, the warmth seeping into his fingertips.

Lan Wangji blinked, his eyes wide and earnest. "Emperor's Smile?" he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue with a charming, almost slurred lilt. "It makes my chest warm, Wei Ying. And my ears feel... fuzzy." He reached up a tentative hand, touching his earlobe, a faint surprised giggle escaping his lips. "Why is it fuzzy?"

Wei Wuxian laughed, a low, rich sound that always promised mischief, yet now was overwhelmingly filled with tenderness. "That's the alcohol, Lan Zhan. It warms you up, makes you feel light and happy." He took Lan Wangji's hand, lacing their fingers together, marveling at how soft and pliant his husband's usually firm grip now was. "Are you happy, Lan Zhan?"

Lan Wangji considered this for a long moment, his gaze fixed on their intertwined hands. "Yes," he finally answered, a sweet, sleepy smile gracing his lips. "With Wei Ying, I am always... happy. But this is a new kind of happy. Like... floating." His head lolled slightly to the side, his eyes still holding that captivating, innocent bewilderment. "Wei Ying, why are the lights so bright? And everyone is talking so loudly?"

Wei Wuxian squeezed his hand. "The lights are just lanterns, Lan Zhan, and people are just enjoying themselves. The Emperor's Smile makes everything seem a little brighter, a little louder." He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Lan Wangji's temple. "Don't worry, my love. Wei Ying is here. Wei Ying will answer all your questions." And he did. He patiently explained the restaurant's boisterous atmosphere, the strange feeling of lightness, the unfamiliar warmth blooming in Lan Wangji's veins. He stroked Lan Wangji's hair, traced the line of his jaw, and pressed a series of gentle, reassuring kisses to his forehead, his cheek, his soft, pouting lips, revelling in the rare, uninhibited display of innocence from his usually reserved husband. Each question, each soft murmur, was met with a loving gaze and a sweet, patient answer, making Wei Wuxian's heart swell with an almost painful happiness.

The bustling restaurant eventually grew quieter, the patrons dispersing into the cool night. Wei Wuxian, despite his delight, knew it was time. Cloud Recesses rules were strict, and while he was exempt from most, even he couldn’t flout curfew too blatantly, especially not with Gusu Lan’s Chief Cultivator in such a state.

"Alright, my most adorable Hanguang-Jun," Wei Wuxian chuckled, gently pulling Lan Wangji to his feet. "Time to go home."

Lan Wangji swayed slightly, but his gaze, though soft, held an unexpected spark of determination. As they stepped out into the crisp night air, Wei Wuxian was about to gently guide him, perhaps even offer a supportive arm. But Lan Wangji, with a surprising surge of strength and reflexes that belied his drunken state, moved first.

Before Wei Wuxian could even register the motion, he found himself scooped clean off his feet, caught in a surprisingly firm princess carry.

"Yelp!" Wei Wuxian exclaimed, a surprised laugh bubbling up. "Lan Zhan! What was that for?"

Lan Wangji merely looked down at him, his golden eyes shining with a strange, fierce tenderness. "Wei Ying is tired," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against Wei Wuxian's ear. "Wei Ying should not walk."

Wei Wuxian, nestled securely in those powerful arms, felt a wave of warmth spread through him. His Lan Zhan, even when drunk, was utterly devoted. "Oh, you're too sweet, Lan Zhan," he whispered, pressing his face into Lan Wangji's shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of sandalwood and subtle alcohol.

With Wei Wuxian still cradled in his embrace, Lan Wangji reached for Bichen, his movements fluid and precise despite the haze of liquor. The sword sprang from its sheath with a soft, resonant hum. Then, to Wei Wuxian’s utter astonishment, Lan Wangji calmly stepped onto Bichen, one foot planted firmly on the blade, the other still on the ground for balance. He then carefully brought his other foot up, holding Wei Wuxian securely as he did so.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian yelped again, clinging to Lan Wangji's robes tighter. "Are you sure about this? You're a little... wobbly!"

Lan Wangji simply gave him a soft, reassuring gaze. "Wei Ying is safe with me," he stated, his voice unwavering in its conviction, even as his posture subtly swayed.

The flight back to Cloud Recesses was, to put it mildly, an adventure. Bichen, usually a paragon of grace and stability, became a living, breathing roller-coaster under its inebriated master. One moment they would be soaring smoothly, the next Bichen would dip sharply, stomach-churningly low, sending Wei Wuxian's heart leaping into his throat. Then a sudden lurch to the left, a dizzying tilt to the right, followed by a series of nauseating bumps that felt like hitting invisible potholes in the air.

Wei Wuxian, a nervous wreck despite his giggles, buried his face deeper into Lan Wangji's shoulder, his arms wrapped around his neck like a desperate vine. "Lan Zhan, my love, my dear Hanguang-Jun!" he cried out between gasps. "Please, don't drop me! My poor stomach can't take this!"

Lan Wangji, however, seemed utterly unfazed. His grip on Wei Wuxian remained rock-solid, his eyes fixed on some unseen point ahead. "Wei Ying," he murmured, his voice a gentle hum, "the wind is... interesting tonight. It pushes Bichen." He then let out a small, satisfied sigh. "But I hold Wei Ying tightly. Wei Ying will not fall."

And indeed, through all the stomach-lurching dips and dizzying swerves, Lan Wangji's embrace never faltered. Wei Wuxian felt oddly safe, even as he internally screamed and laughed, feeling the solid warmth of Lan Wangji's chest against his, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the comforting rhythm of his breathing. He peppered Lan Wangji’s jawline with tiny, nervous kisses, hoping to somehow steady the ride with affection.

They finally reached Cloud Recesses, landing with an undignified, wobbly thud just outside the imposing main gates. Wei Wuxian practically sagged in relief, even as he was still firmly held.

Lan Wangji, with the same determined expression, made to carry him through the main entrance.

"Woah, woah, Lan Zhan, hold on a second!" Wei Wuxian quickly interjected, pushing a gentle hand against Lan Wangji's chest. "Not the main gate, my love. Think of the poor disciples!" He imagined the shock, the scandal, the sheer bewilderment of seeing their revered Chief Cultivator, Hanguang-Jun, sober-as-a-judge leader of the Gusu Lan sect, stumbling in late, carrying his husband in a princess embrace, clearly inebriated. The poor souls might faint from the cognitive dissonance! And he certainly didn't want to tarnish Lan Wangji's immaculate reputation.

"Why not?" Lan Wangji asked, his brow furrowed in a confused pout again. "Wei Ying said we were going home."

"We are, we are," Wei Wuxian soothed, gently patting his cheek. "But we'll take the scenic route. The back way. Over the wall!" He grinned mischievously. "It's quieter. More fun!"

Lan Wangji considered this for a moment, then a slow, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "Fun," he repeated, like a child discovering a new word. "Wei Ying wants fun."

"Exactly!" Wei Wuxian cheered. "Let's climb!" He untangled himself from Lan Wangji's hold, landing lightly on his feet.

Scaling the pristine white wall of Cloud Recesses was usually a clandestine affair for Wei Wuxian, a nostalgic echo of his youth. Tonight, however, it was a guided tour with a tipsy dignitary. Lan Wangji, with surprising grace and quiet efficiency even in his drunken state, began to climb, his white robes a pale ripple against the moonlight-drenched stone. Wei Wuxian, climbing just behind him, found himself giggling softly.

"Lan Zhan," he cooed, his voice laced with pure adoration, "you look just like a cute, innocent rabbit climbing the wall! So quiet, so nimble." He reached out, gently patting Lan Wangji’s backside. "My little snow bunny."

The word "rabbit" seemed to resonate deeply within Lan Wangji's muddled mind. He paused, just as they reached the top of the wall, his head turning slowly. His golden eyes, though still hazy, seemed to fix on something unseen, a connection made. Instead of turning left towards the Jingshi, their usual path home, he turned right, in a completely different direction, his footing still remarkably stable.

Wei Wuxian, momentarily confused but always intrigued by Lan Wangji's unexpected turns, whether sober or drunk, simply followed, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Lan Zhan, where are we going?" he whispered, deftly guiding his husband’s hand away from a loose stone. "Lost your way, my love?"

Lan Wangji didn’t answer, merely continued his quiet, determined march through the moonlit courtyards, easily avoiding the patrols of diligent disciples who, thankfully, were nowhere in sight. The air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.

They walked for a while, the silence broken only by their soft footsteps and the distant chirping of crickets, until they reached a familiar, peaceful corner of Cloud Recesses: the Rabbit Garden.

Beneath the soft glow of the moon, dozens of Cloud Recesses’ beloved fluffy residents were peacefully asleep, little white bundles nestled amongst the grass and wild flowers. Lan Wangji stopped, his unfocused gaze sweeping over the scene. A tender smile, almost beatific, spread across his face.

He knelt down, his movements slow and deliberate, and gently, with the utmost care, picked up one of the sleeping bunnies. The small creature, accustomed to the gentle touch of Hanguang-Jun, stirred slightly, then settled back into a peaceful slumber in his warm hands.

Lan Wangji turned, his eyes finding Wei Wuxian’s, and with a soft, earnest whisper that touched Wei Wuxian’s soul, he held the bunny out slightly. "Wei Ying..." he began, his voice thick with a sweet sincerity, "you also... are a cute bunny."

A blush, hot and unexpected, crept up Wei Wuxian's neck, settling deep in his ears. To be called a "cute bunny" by his usually reserved husband, in such a pure, unadulterated moment of drunken affection, felt like the most precious compliment he had ever received. He reached out, gently stroking the rabbit’s soft fur, his heart overflowing. "Oh, Lan Zhan," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, "you're too sweet." He pressed a deep, lingering kiss to Lan Wangji's forehead, then another on his lips, tasting the faint lingering sweetness of Emperor’s Smile.

After a moment, Lan Wangji gently placed the bunny back amongst its kin, giving it a soft pat. Then, as if a new directive had entered his mind, he rose and began walking again, this time towards an even more iconic landmark of Cloud Recesses: the Rules Wall.

The massive, ancient Rules Wall loomed before them, its white stone surface covered in thousands of intricately carved Gusu Lan rules, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Each character was a testament to centuries of discipline, tradition, and unwavering adherence to principle. Wei Wuxian felt a prickle of unease. What was his drunk husband planning now?

Then, with a startlingly clear shing, Lan Wangji suddenly unsheathed Bichen. The cool, silvery blade gleamed sharply in the moonlight, reflecting the countless rules etched into the stone.

Wei Wuxian's eyes widened in genuine alarm. "Lan Zha—" he began, but before he could finish, Lan Wangji lifted Bichen’s tip, aiming it with unnerving precision at the sacred wall.

"No, no, no, Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian cried, his heart leaping into his throat. He lunged forward, grabbing Lan Wangji’s wrist just as the tip of Bichen was about to make contact with the ancient carvings. The sacrilege! Lan Qiren would undoubtedly have a qi deviation on the spot if he saw this!

"Wei Ying?" Lan Wangji asked, his voice still soft and confused, but with a hint of stubbornness. "I must... write something important."

Thinking fast, Wei Wuxian looked around frantically. His gaze landed on a large, relatively smooth rock tucked away near the base of the wall, perhaps a discarded piece of masonry. "Lan Zhan, my love, my brilliant Hanguang-Jun!" he exclaimed, putting on his most charming and persuasive smile. "You are so skilled, so artistic! Why don't you write it on that rock first? It's a much better canvas for your masterpiece! The wall is... well, it's already full." He patted Lan Wangji's arm. "You need a fresh surface for your important message."

Lan Wangji, ever pliable to Wei Wuxian’s gentle suggestions, tilted his head. "Rock?" he repeated, his eyes drifting towards the designated stone. "A new... rule?"

"Exactly!" Wei Wuxian beamed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief. "A very, very important new rule, just for us!"

Lan Wangji, satisfied, nodded slowly. He turned, and with Bichen's gleaming tip, began to meticulously engrave characters onto the large rock. His movements were slow, precise, the metal whispering against the stone.

Wei Wuxian, heart still thrumming with residual panic and burgeoning curiosity, leaned over his shoulder, his chin resting lightly on Lan Wangji's shoulder, watching the words take shape. As he read them, a profound wave of warmth, deeper than any Emperor's Smile could evoke, surged through his heart.

The words, etched with such careful devotion, read:

"Gusu Clan's New Rule.

All rules shall be punished without a second chance, unless it's Wei Wuxian. He is exempt from punishment. This rule is brought to you by Lan Wangji."

Wei Wuxian stared at the inscription, then at the serene, slightly sleepy expression on Lan Wangji's face. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes, a delightful, overwhelming sensation. His Lan Zhan, even in his drunken state, prioritized him above everything. He had saved Lan Qiren from an early qi deviation, and he had gained the most wonderfully outrageous, utterly devoted rule in history.

Proud of his handiwork, Lan Wangji turned his head, his golden eyes finding Wei Wuxian's. A light, sleepy smile played on his lips. "For... Wei Ying," he murmured, his voice soft as a caress.

Then, with an almost imperceptible shift, he opened his arms wide, a silent, innocent request for a reward. There was no hesitation from Wei Wuxian. He immediately threw his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"Lan Zhan! My precious, wonderful Lan Zhan!" he choked out, peppering his face with kisses – his forehead, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his chin, and finally, a deep, loving kiss on his soft, pliant lips. He giggled, a joyful, watery sound. "You spoil me! You utterly, wonderfully spoil me rotten!"

He felt Lan Wangji’s arms wrap around him, holding him close, his head resting against Wei Wuxian’s hair. The moment was perfect, intimate, and impossibly sweet.

Hand-in-hand, Wei Wuxian gently guiding his still-dazzled husband through the familiar paths, they finally made it back to the Jingshi. The moon, now high above, seemed to bless their quiet journey home.

The next day, the memory of his drunken antics would slowly return to Lan Wangji, vague at first, then sharpening into embarrassing clarity. Wei Wuxian, of course, would delight in teasing him mercilessly, leading him back to the Rules Wall and proudly showing him his artistic masterpiece on the rock. Lan Wangji, his ears turning a shy shade of pink, would avert his gaze, perhaps pretending to examine the ancient rules, but the soft, fond curve of his lips would betray his true feelings. Wei Wuxian would simply lean in, steal a soft kiss, and whisper, "My cute bunny Hanguang-Jun," knowing full well that no rule, written or unwritten, could ever truly contain the boundless love between them.