#lan family affairs

[bnnywngs]

modern mdzs au where lan xichen and lan wangji treat their father as if he's dead because they haven't seen him since they were kids and have no idea where he is, and lan qiren does nothing and says nothing so people believe qingheng-jun is dead.

then suddenly, he reappears looking all sad and remorseful asking for forgiveness and that he wants to get closer to his kids. everyone else is just so shocked to see him alive, while lan xichen looks and feels troubled (he doesn't want to, but filial piety... but he don't want to even look at this man, but filial piety.... but this man is but a stranger to him, not a father at all, but filial piety...) and lan wangji gives him a dirty look, a firm no and walks away (like the petty bitch he is).

lan wangji somehow convinces his brother to make the man go away and to not forgive him, because he does not deserve it.

"abandon him as he abandoned us." he says.

"no pretty words and ugly faces can erase those years, xichen, he's never been a father to you." nie mingjue says.

"i know it's hard, but you should face your own heart, xichen-ge. if you wanted to forgive him, you would've done it already. he's a stranger, as you say, and you don't owe him anything." wei wuxian said.

in the end, lan xichen asks his uncle (who he always secretly thought as his father) to send his progenitor away.

"what do you feel?" lan wangji asked.

"relieved." lan xichen smiled "sad, but still... i'm glad i don't have to deal with that again."

[khattikeri]

one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

[gentil-minou]

Gentians on Doorways

Written for the @mdzsrbb and inspired by the beautiful artwork made by @wrecklwj !

“How were you and my mother…acquainted?” “Acquaintances? She was my best friend!" ~ After a decade of living abroad, Lan Zhan returns to China to sort through his mother's affairs after her death. There, he meets Wei Ying, his mother’s friend who she'd commissioned to illustrate a book of nursery rhymes. But Lan Zhan is out of his depth in a land that was once his home. After all, there's no step-by-step guide for when your mother dies.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Wakes & Funerals, Falling In Love, parental loss, Expat Lan Zhan, Artist Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, writing a funeral scene and trying to not make it accidentally horny aka the wangxian curse, just lots of feelings about moving away from your parents, and the fickleness of memories

Lan Zhan & Madam Lan + Wangxian | Complete | 33.7K | Rated T

Preview under the cut

The hallway seems to stretch into infinity, each click of the head teacher’s heels echoing through the vastness of space. A preposterous exaggeration, given that the feet that tread these walls belong primarily to small humans with smaller legs, and such a length would be impractical.

To Lan Zhan, in this moment, it’s the longest hallway in the world.

The head teacher gestures for him to follow her around the corner, as if Lan Zhan was like her young disciples and prone to getting lost in a singular hallway with no intersections. She’s younger than Lan Zhan had expected for a head teacher of an elementary school. She can’t be more than a few years older than him.

"Her classroom is just this way, south facing,” Haung-laoshi rambles, sending him another overly kind, pitying glance. “She loved that room. Lots of natural sunlight."

Lan Zhan nods absently, more out of politeness than true agreement. The light streaming in from the windows that line this hallway grates on his jetlagged state. His head is absent of most thoughts, only the inane recognition that south-facing windows must have meant her classroom would be sweltering and excruciating during a heatwave. Even now, the sun beats down on Lan Zhan, stifling in the late afternoon.

The windows face an inner courtyard. Distantly, Lan Zhan can hear the children laughing and playing, but much of it is drowned out by clicking heels on tiled floor.

He turns his head away from the glaring sun to the interior wall displaying a gallery of crudely drawn blocks and splotches of paint arranged unintelligibly on colored paper. A tiny placard next to each denotes the name of a kindergartener and the vision. Family pets, the playground, a favorite toy, a doting sibling.

A mother, her stick figure arms just out of reach of her stick figure child.

Hastily, Lan Zhan turns back to the endless hallway, where a wooden door seems to grow smaller and smaller as the walls expand outward impossibly so, like the distance is growing wider, not smaller, and clicking heels and laughing children run circles in his pounding head. Everything, from the rhythmic thumping of Lan Zhan’s shoes against tiled floors to the distant ringing in his ears, from the chipped paint along the baseboards to the glaring sunlight arcing overhead, pounds against Lan Zhan’s head like a stampede of charging elephants.

He should be running. Running and running, far and away before the stampede barrels over him leaving his body cracked and bruised in its wake. He shouldn’t be here. He should be anywhere but here.

Then, abruptly, the clicking of the heels ceases when Huang-laoshi stops in front of that wooden door, now a normal size and directly in front of Lan Zhan. A tiny frosted glass window rests above the doorknob in a vertical pane, with leftover pieces of tape missing the accoutrements they once secured.  A row of neatly painted purple flowers blooms through the wood on the bottom of the door, caught in motion as they dance in an unseen wind.

There is no wind to suggest this. He knows simply by looking at the brushstrokes, familiar swirls like the ones that once adorned the wooden doors of his childhood home. He can see it clearly in his mind’s eye, each stroke of a well-worn paintbrush and the subtle sighs of contentment when the artist in question lifted her brush and beamed back at him with pride.

“What do you think, ZhanZhan?”

This far away, the children’s roughhousing fades into the din leaving behind empty space.

Somehow, silence is worse.

“You must be so shocked. It was all so sudden…” Huang-laoshi remarks kindly as she retrieves a crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabs at the corners of her eyes. “I know I already said this, but I am so sorry for your loss.” She lifts a hand as if to pat his shoulder, but Lan Zhan takes a measured step to the side and her hand falls to rest by her side.

Outside, sunshine cascades through flowering trees and leaves speckled shadows dancing in the grass. A breeze slips in through the windows and winds through strands of Lan Zhan’s hair. The subtle scents of a summer on the rise, lying in wait for season’s change.

The breeze does little to soothe his heated skin. “Thank you,” Lan Zhan says politely with little inflection.

Huang-laoshi pauses, waiting for Lan Zhan to continue. But Lan Zhan has little more to say.

Ever since he’d arrived here, everyone seems to think Lan Zhan has something more to say.

What is there to say about his mother dying?

Read more on Ao3

[ruanbaijie]

During the Republican Era, Shen Zhiheng, a member of the Tianjin gentry who happened to be a vampire, offended the Japanese and became the target of an assassination attempt. He was saved by a blind young lady, Mi Lan, and his best friend Situ Weilian. When he went to repay Mi Lan for saving him, he discovered the terrible family situation that Mi Lan was in, and so began to pay more attention to her. Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng’s plan to take revenge on Li Yingliang, the mastermind behind his assassination, fell short of success thanks to Li Yingliang’s Japanese superior, raising suspicions about his identity. Since then, Li Yingliang and the Japanese were in hot pursuit of Shen Zhiheng, determined to dig out the truth about his secret.

Please do not repost this anywhere else or retranslate it!

MAIN DIRECTORY ☾ READ ON AO3 ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

At midnight, Shen Zhiheng took action.

The square dog hole at the bottom of the door, through which food had been given to him, was not big enough for him to pass through. So he stood before the bars, each hand grabbing one, and decided to use the most stupid method to escape from the jail.

Gathering his strength, he gritted his teeth, his veins slowly protruding on the backs of his hands and his finger joints gradually turning white. The two bars beside each other were slowly bent out of shape, leaving between them a gap that allowed him to extend his head through.

Then, he really passed his head through the gap.

After passing his head through, he could squeeze his shoulders and chest through. Sucking in his breath, he tightened his core, squeezed his buttocks, and stepped through, leaving the prison cell without a single sound. At the same time, the two Japanese soldiers at one end of the corridor still had their eyes half-closed, dozing off and in a daze.

Shen Zhiheng looked left and right, then walked towards those two soldiers. When one of them first saw him, he saw him but did not dare to believe his eyes, and so he extended his hand to push his fellow soldier. And when the second soldier looked at him, he was already right in front of them.

Understanding finally dawning upon them, the two soldiers desperately raised their rifles, yelling at him in Japanese to stop.

As they yelled, Shen Zhiheng continued busying himself with his own affairs. He pulled the barrel of the rifle that was nearer to him towards himself, with a strength and speed that far exceeded that of a normal human’s. The soldier only felt his hand slipping, and his rifle had already been snatched away by Shen Zhiheng. Shen Zhiheng then whirled the rifle and brought it smashing down, first knocking a dull thud on the crown of that soldier’s head. At once, he swept the rifle out, knocking the other soldier directly at his temple. The two soldiers fell into a heap without a sound of protest. Not a single drop of blood had been spilled, but their heads had both become out of shape.

Although there was no blood, temptation still gripped him. He knew that their bodies stored warm, fresh, and sweet blood. All it took was for his sharp teeth to gently pierce their skin, and that fresh blood would flood into his mouth, moisturising his stomach and spreading into his limbs and bones, letting him lose himself in extreme pleasure.

Saliva trickled out from the corners of his mouth. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if he was having an out-of-body experience. His soul that had left his body was trying its very best to force his physical body to pull away from those two corpses. With his back to them, he took a few steps forward. When the corpses were out of sight and out of mind, he regained a little of his sanity. Turning off the safety of the rifle, he loaded it with bullets, and walked towards the other end of the corridor.

That was the direction in which Li Yingliang and the other people had left. This end definitely led to the exit.

With the rifle in one hand, he used his other to forcefully wipe the saliva at the corners of his mouth. He had to leave this place immediately. This drooling version of him was too undignified, too inhuman. He knew how easy it was for him to degenerate into a bloodthirsty beast, and it was precisely because he knew, that he began to panic. Taking wide steps, he walked to the end of the corridor, raising the rifle as he turned the corner and firing at the Japanese soldiers who were standing guard against the wall.

 A soldier fell in response, and he immediately changed the direction of the rifle, continuing to fire. Of the remaining three soldiers, two of them fell, and the only remaining one was alive but injured. As he screamed loudly for help, he fired at him. Turning sideways to avoid two gunshots, Shen Zhiheng then used his last bullet to put an end to him.

Under the lights, ahead of him lay a few cement steps. Tossing the empty rifle aside, Shen Zhiheng picked up a new rifle from the corpse’s embrace. The new rifle was fully filled with bullets and was fixed with a bayonet. The barrel, stained with fresh blood, was sticky. With the rifle in hand, he rushed up the stairs. The stairs spiralled upwards, and the higher he went, the colder the air was, proving that he was on the right path. However, the cold air was no longer capable of lowering his temperature. His heart beat fiercely while his lungs twisted, and his stomach felt as if it was about to be dissolved by stomach acid. In the end, the smell of blood still stimulated him; he could no longer delay, he had to escape at once.

Suddenly, he stopped.

A cacophony of footsteps and voices echoed down from above, and approaching together with these sounds was the cool night wind. The doors to the dungeon had been opened, and a large group of people were rushing down!

Shen Zhiheng blinked his eyes forcefully, wobbling as he turned around and leaned against the wall. With the last remaining shred of his rational mind, and with the little bit of experience he had gained after surviving for so many years, he removed the bayonet and held it in his hand, then bent down and gently placed the rifle on the floor, stepping out of his leather shoes.

Silently, he rushed upwards, and after flying through two floors of the spiral staircase, he ran head-on into the Japanese soldiers who were running down in their lines. The Japanese soldier in the front could only exclaim in surprise when he saw him, before his neck was slit by Shen Zhiheng.

Chaos immediately broke out on the narrow and dark spiral staircase.

Shen Zhiheng had to kill his way out as quickly as possible, but the Japanese soldiers who were swarming down were no pushovers. In a close combat fight, the soldiers’ rifles were completely useless. There was one whose movements were fast, who had quickly removed his bayonet and discarded his rifle, prepared for hand-to-hand combat. However, his fellow soldiers’ bodies fell over and blocked his way. He pushed the corpses away and was about to swing his bayonet, but Shen Zhiheng had already brushed past him, and without losing momentum, had plunged the bayonet through his neck with a single strike.

Then, he let go, leaving the now blunt old bayonet with him, and taking over the new bayonet the soldier had just dropped.

Yokoyama Akira and Li Yingliang stood outside the dungeon.

Yokoyama Akira had let Shen Zhiheng “think carefully” tonight, but he himself had not left for home to retire to bed. When the sounds of gunshots had started echoing faintly from the dungeon, he had happened to be having a small meeting with Li Yingliang.

 Li Yingliang was always wary of Shen Zhiheng breaking out from jail, and had instructed soldiers to stand guard on duty outside the prison ahead of time. As soon as there had been abnormal activity from the inside of the dungeon, he had immediately rushed over with Yokoyama Akira. The doors to the prison had opened, and heavily loaded soldiers had immediately rushed down.

At this moment, he and Yokoyama Akira stood shoulder to shoulder. He was grasping his knuckles in nervousness, while Yokoyama Akira was frowning slightly. If the squad that had just gone down was not Shen Zhiheng’s match, the consequences would naturally be scary. But if that squad managed to subdue Shen Zhiheng and put him back into his cell, it would also be disappointing. In contrast to Li Yingliang’s line of thought, Yokoyama Akira thought that it would be best if Shen Zhiheng were some strange person with extraordinary powers, it would be okay if he were even not human. Otherwise, the Yokoyama mansion had captured him with such fanfare, it would be like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut; and it would be the butt of others’ jokes.

Both filled with their own thoughts, the two of them stared at the main doors of the dungeon. They did not have to stare for long, for screams quickly echoed from inside the dungeon.

Those screams echoed one after another, terrifying and blood-curdling, as if they originated from hell. The smell of blood was like a warm and heavy cloud, floating out from the dark hole behind the doors.

Yokoyama Akira’s face was drained of all colour, while Li Yingliang clutched his arm, “There’s something wrong, Sir. Is he about to kill his way out?”

Yokoyama Akira let him clutch him, slowly raising a hand.

The machine gun troops that had been on standby at the rear jogged forward, installing a light machine gun and aiming it at the doors of the dungeon. At the same time, a bloodied human figure emerged from the doors. The figure’s face could not be seen clearly, and pearls of blood trickled down from the tips of his hair and dripped onto the ground. He dragged his two legs and walked out, leaving behind bloody footprints with each step he took.

  Li Yingliang suddenly tightened his grip around Yokoyama Akira’s arm, all but screaming, “Shen Zhiheng!”

Yokoyama Akira waved, and the two machine guns spat out tongues of fire at the same time, the impact of the gunshots causing Shen Zhiheng to be thrown backwards, rolling down the stairs.

The walls of the Yokoyama mansion were extremely hard, and wounds caused by ricochets were no small matter. So when Shen Zhiheng disappeared, the light machine guns stopped firing immediately. Yokoyama Akira turned his head and shot Li Yingliang a glance. Li Yingliang’s eyes were wide as he still clutched at him. So, as if he was comforting him, he patted the back of his hands.

“Alright, it’s fine now.”

This was the first time that Yokoyama Akira was a hundred percent satisfied with Li Yingliang. Li Yingliang had not been spouting nonsense, and the Yokoyama mansion would not be humiliated; they had really caught a… a…

Yokoyama Akira did not know how to describe Shen Zhiheng. Even if Shen Zhiheng was really just a human, then he was a superhuman among humans, and he, Yokoyama Akira, had not mobilised his troops in vain. Calling Kuroki Rika who was on night shift for the night over, he put her in charge of standing on guard, while he himself gathered a squad of soldiers to personally follow him down into the dungeon. Kuroki Rika wanted to say something but held her tongue, as if she wanted to stop him, but ultimately did not speak a word. Li Yingliang hurriedly followed after Yokoyama Akira; he had put in so much painstaking effort for Shen Zhiheng, and now that it was finally the moment for the truth to be revealed, he was willing to take risks, rather than be absent.

  However, the second he stepped through the doors of the dungeon, Li Yingliang started to regret.

The air was hot and humid while the ground was wet and slippery. The stairs were also spiralling and narrow, and they could not simply go down the stairs in the dark. Yokoyama Akira got the soldiers to turn on their torchlights, and when the beams of light moved across the walls and the stairs, the scene could be described by seven words: corpses strewn everywhere, blood flowing like rivers.

His face unchanged, Yokoyama Akira kicked away the corpses that were blocking the path one by one. The corpses either had their throats cut out or their heads smashed. There was grey and white brain matter splashed across the wall on one side of the staircase, mixing together with fresh blood as it slowly flowed downwards.

There was no Shen Zhiheng on the stairs, and when they went down the stairs and entered the corridor, Yokoyama Akira still did not find Shen Zhiheng.

The dungeon was a secret prison constructed by the Yokoyama mansion. It was not large in scale and was simple in its layout. After going down the stairs and walking straight along the corridor, one could walk all the way to the end after turning the corner. There were no forked paths. Holding his gun in one hand, Yokoyama Akira became increasingly careful with each step he took. This dungeon had never lacked blood and fire and dead souls, but even so, tonight was the most frightening it had ever been.

And, it was too quiet.

As he followed after Yokoyama Akira, Li Yingliang silently counted the number of corpses they passed along the way. Besides the corpses on the stairs, he saw four corpses in the first part of the corridor, and after turning the corner, another corpse lay at the end of the corridor. As he walked, he and Yokoyama Akira suddenly stopped, because they noticed that beside them was the prison cell that had once held Shen Zhiheng.

Yokoyama Akira shook the misshapen bars, exchanging a glance with Li Yingliang. Li Yingliang’s face was ashen and his eyes were red, as if he was too excited, but also too terrified.

Yokoyama Akira did not say a word, knowing that at this moment, his feelings were just like those of Li Yingliang: also too excited, and also too terrified.

Instructing two soldiers to clear the path with their guns in their hands, he brought the squad through this part of the corridor, and turned the corner again.

Then, he saw Shen Zhiheng.

Shen Zhiheng, the bloodied human shape they had previously seen, was hugging a corpse as he knelt on the floor. His body was bent deep over it, with his head buried at the side of its neck, as he was sucking huge gulps one after another.

Yokoyama Akira and Li Yingliang, as well as the soldiers, all held their breaths in unison.

The dungeon was silent to an extreme, allowing Shen Zhiheng’s desperate swallowing to be heard with incomparable clarity, shocking them thoroughly. And with each passing moment that he did not lift his head, the people opposite him did not dare to move.

After a long moment of sucking and heavy drinking, Shen Zhiheng slowly raised his head.

With Yokoyama Akira in the lead, the audience standing on this side exhaled a breath of cold air together. Then, just as they had prepared themselves for battle, Shen Zhiheng remained in that posture with his head lifted as he knelt, unmoving once again.

A lamp hung directly above him, shrouding him in its dim yellow light. His short hair was messy and bloody, and while the upper half of his face was speckled with droplets of blood, the bottom half of his face was completely crimson. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed, and his eyes were half open and half closed, his double eyelids leaving marks that stood out clearly against the blood. His eyelashes, soaked in blood, hung heavily.

Slowly relaxing his arms, the corpse rolled down his thigh and onto the ground. Everyone could see that at this moment, he was not in a clear state of mind.

Li Yingliang whispered, “Sir, now. Catch him now.”

Yokoyama Akira aimed his gun at Shen Zhiheng, taking the lead as he walked towards him. But before they could walk closer to him, Shen Zhiheng’s eyes suddenly moved.

He looked at Yokoyama Akira, and then at Li Yingliang. Then, he stood up, swaying.

Previously, when he was kneeling, no one could see that there was something abnormal about him. But now when he stood up, everyone realised that there was a bayonet stuck in his abdomen. That bayonet was all but skewered completely through him, but he seemed to neither know nor feel it.

Whatever Li Yingliang had previously suspected was now proven to be true. Consumed by immense fear, he stammered, “Sir, he can’t die… I didn’t lie, see, he really can’t die…”

Yokoyama Akira fired.

The bullet shot through Shen Zhiheng’s chest, causing him to jerk violently backwards. After that jerk, he stood firmly. He looked at Yokoyama Akira, and as if he had just awoken from a dream, he opened his eyes wide.

A cold chill swept through Li Yingliang, and acting on his gut, he violently ran towards Yokoyama Akira, hugging him and rolling to the side. Fresh blood splashed onto his face; Shen Zhiheng had rushed over in a split second, catching the soldier behind Yokoyama Akira. The surrounding people became mad with fear, brandishing their guns and frantically smashing the butt of their guns down onto Shen Zhiheng. In the meantime, the neck of the soldier in Shen Zhiheng’s hands was twisted, the artery in his neck had already been bitten open, his fresh blood spurting directly onto the ceiling.

Bracing himself against the wall for support, Yokoyama Akira climbed up, but as soon as he did, he bent his waist down, trying to find his pistol as if he had gone insane. Fortunately, at this moment, Kuroki Rika arrived.

Kuroki Rika had earlier thought that Yokoyama Akira’s actions were somewhat rash, and so she had taken the liberty to rush over to help. And the method she had come up with was quite clever; using a method to catch dangerous animals, she gave the order to spread a large steel net open, trapping Shen Zhiheng and the soldier in his embrace under it.

 This time, Shen Zhiheng lost himself for a very long time.

It was an extremely wonderful vertigo, where he was drowsy with no worries, where he was calm from the bottom of his heart and his limbs and body were relaxed. Enveloped by the fresh blood which had yet to cool down, it felt like he was floating in a warm, dark world.

From human to monster, after this long journey of twists and turns that spanned more than a hundred years, it was the first time that he felt satiated - completely satiated.

Like a premature baby that had returned into its mother’s body, he curled up on his side, and filled with satisfaction and bliss, descended into a deep slumber.

Li Yingliang, Yokoyama Akira, Kuroki Rika, and all the soldiers who were still alive, stood surrounding Shen Zhiheng, not making a single sound for a very long time.

This time, the opponent they faced was neither someone who was unrepentant nor someone who looked death calmly in the face, and so their cold violence automatically dissipated. They even felt like taking a step back, and then another, until they could retreat behind the brilliance of their ancestral spirits. Below the steel net, Shen Zhiheng actually slept quietly, and the corpse of the soldier that he hugged in his embrace also had its eyes closed, the two of them lovingly asleep in the middle of a bloodbath.

In the end, Li Yingliang was the one who spoke first, “Sir, since he hasn’t woken up yet, should we, as early as possible, … take care of him?”

Yokoyama Akira told Kuroki Rika, “Get the military doctor.”

The Yokoyama mansion was well-organised and well-staffed, and could function independently on its own.

Before the military doctor arrived, the soldiers armed themselves fully, and taking a great risk, removed the steel net. They gently pulled the corpse of their fellow soldier out from Shen Zhiheng’s embrace, and then locked stainless steel handcuffs around Shen Zhiheng’s hands and feet.

Shen Zhiheng had a change of prison cells. The new cell was a water dungeon that had never been used before. Looking down, it was a square, dry pool, with the bottom and the four walls smoothened out with cement, while the top was covered with a welded steel grille. The grille was sturdy, and seemed to be fused into the cement on all four sides, with only one corner that opened up into a window with a lock. 

The water dungeon was quite deep; even if the person in it were to raise their hands and jump upwards, they would definitely not be able to touch the grille. The holes of the grille were not large either, and the guards could safely walk above it.

Entering and exiting through the window was not easy. The soldiers first brought a small wooden bed down, and then placed Shen Zhiheng on it. After carefully completing these two tasks, the soldiers climbed up the ladder and out of the cell, and two military doctors descended into the cell after them.

The military doctors injected Shen Zhiheng with twice the normal amount of sedatives.

After observing for a moment and confirming that the sedatives were really effective, they then split the work between themselves, using scissors to cut open his bloodied clothes, pulling out the bayonet in his abdomen, and then using forceps to remove the bullets from his body.

Li Yingliang and Yokoyama Akira stood at the sides of the water dungeon and watched. When the military doctors removed the bayonet, fresh blood gushed out, and the two of them were both filled with a kind of subtle disgust, because they didn’t know just who that fresh blood that had just gushed out belonged to.

Yokoyama Akira said softly, “Yingliang-kun, is he still considered as a human?”

Li Yingliang was stunned. Yokoyama Akira had never addressed him so intimately before, and he was quite flattered. “This… I’m not sure either.”

“If he’s not human, then what is he? Devil? Demon? Evil spirit?”

Li Yingliang truly could not answer this question, and so he said hesitantly, “Do demons and monsters… also do business and invest… and open newspaper companies?”

“Where is his family? Is there anyone else in his family?”

“We’re still not sure about this. Four years ago, he moved to Tianjin and settled here. Before that, he seemed to have been in Europe for a few years. Some people say he was learning the arts in Europe, others say he was in Europe doing business.”

Yokoyama Akira lowered his eyes and looked downwards, watching the military doctors cleaning Shen Zhiheng’s body. Shen Zhiheng lay naked on the bed, his body gaunt and slender, and equipped with all the organs a human male should have. Without fresh blood covering him, the assortment of wounds that covered his body was revealed. On his knee, there was even a wound that was so deep that the bone was visible. 

“He’s very heavily injured,” Yokoyama Akira said.

Li Yingliang immediately made a sound in agreement.

“It seems like he can’t feel pain.”

“This kind of person that can’t be killed, he probably also wouldn’t be afraid of pain.”

“He’s also very strong and very fast.”

“Yes, he’s quite dangerous.”

Yokoyama Akira lifted his hand, stroking his chin. “Among normal people, even if the fittest youths undergo the most rigorous of training, they won’t be able to reach his level. If he is one of us, or if we have people like him, that will be good. He just needs a little training, and he will become the most outstanding agent.”

Li Yingliang felt that there was something wrong with the meaning hidden in Yokoyama Akira’s words. In a hurry, he turned his head towards him and said, “Sir, his age is unknown. I think there’s a big possibility that he’s no longer a youth; he is already very obstinate in his thinking.”

Yokoyama Akira nodded his head.

In the wee hours of the morning, Yokoyama Akira and Li Yingliang both retired to rest, and Kuroki Rika took over the watch. She lay down on the grille, staring at Shen Zhiheng for a good part of the day. Her mind was quick and she did not need any particular persuasion; she had already acknowledged that the previous night, she had trapped a vampire. She thought that Shen Zhiheng was a vampire, but Yokoyama Akira thought otherwise. The reason why Yokoyama Akira did not agree with her was not because he had some clever reason, but purely because he looked down on women, and Kuroki Rika was precisely that: a woman. The second she opened her mouth, he had already completely shut her down even before she could complete her sentence.

 At noon, Li Yingliang replaced Kuroki Rika.

After sleeping for a few hours, Li Yinliang had washed up, changed his clothes, and eaten his fill, his spirits once again becoming high. And just as he arrived, Shen Zhiheng also woke up.

Shen Zhiheng had not had such a deep, long sleep in a very long time.

He didn’t even have a single dream; he only slept, to the point where his joints all became relaxed, it was as if he had become a long snake. Now that he was awake, he lay on his back, facing the ceiling, with his eyes wide open. The first thing he saw was the grille above him, followed by the person sprawled on top of the grille. That person’s back was facing the light and he was on all fours, just like a toad. His head was lowered as he stared directly at him. It was Li Yingliang.

He and Li Yingliang exchanged stares for a while, and at the same time, all of the past events finally came back to him. He had exposed his secret, exposed his true colours that were too dark to be revealed to the outside world. All the illusions he had painstakingly maintained over the years had all crumbled in an instant, and that toad-like creature above him was the main culprit.

Violent fury made him leap up, but severe pain made him fall back onto the bed. He moaned, realising that there was not a single article of clothing on him, except for a blanket that covered his body.

Li Yingliang suddenly asked, “You can feel pain too?”

He roared, “It hurts!” 

His roar startled Li Yingliang into trembles, and after that, the latter suddenly noticed that he had lost his cool. Before this, Shen Zhiheng had never roared as if he were a trapped beast.

“Do you still want to escape?” he asked.

What Li Yingliang had noticed, so had Shen Zhiheng himself. He pulled the blanket over his head, taking in a deep breath in the dark as he tried to calm himself down.

After ten seconds under the blanket, he lifted it and poked his head out.

“Give me some clothes.”

“It’s not cold here, you won’t freeze.”

“I’m not cold, I just think that my current condition is indecent.” Shen Zhiheng looked at Li Yingliang. “Do you mean you’re willing to face me in this condition?”

“I am.”

“It’s not like I’m a woman.”

“Not only are you not a woman, you’re not even human!” Li Yingliang hit the grille, his face lit up with a smile as his eyes shined, his teeth gritted in agitation. “Stand up, walk two rounds, extend your claws, show your tail!”

He continued hitting the grille, as if he was tapping a rhythm for himself, “This time, with both witnesses and evidence, what other excuses do you have? Why are you still pretending to be human? You’d better tell the truth as soon as possible, it’ll be good for everyone! If you still want to pull any tricks, fine, no problem. I’ll lock you here until you behave, in any case, I’ll accompany you until the end!”

Li Yingliang’s sudden anger made Shen Zhiheng quite perplexed. He thought, his jailbreak had failed, and Li Yingliang himself had not been harmed in any way. No matter how this bill was calculated, Li Yingliang should be pleased. However, at this moment, Li Yingliang was so angry that he was panting. He did not look pleased at all, instead, it seemed more like he had suffered a blow.

Li Yingliang did not return home, staying there instead.

On the first day, Shen Zhiheng lay down for a long time, the wounds on his bare arms seeming to heal visibly.

On the second day, Shen Zhiheng asked Li Yingliang for water, but Li Yingliang refused.

On the third day, Shen Zhiheng was hungry. At first, Li Yingliang did not notice his hunger. It was only when he noticed him tossing and turning on the bed, when he realised that something was wrong.

“Ah…” he squatted on the grille, lowering his head as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Wrapped in the blanket, Shen Zhiheng was curled up into a ball. “I want to see Yokoyama Akira.”

“Stop playing tricks, if you have anything to say, say it to me!”

“I’m hungry.”

“If you’re hungry, then behave. Reply whatever I ask you. As long as you’re willing to behave and cooperate with me, I’ll throw a live person down there for you.”

“Just give me some clothes first. It’s not like I’ll use the clothes to escape from jail. What are you afraid of?”

“You’re fucking not even human, why do you still need to wear clothes!”

“You lie above me and look at me everyday, you’re not ashamed, but I am.”

Li Yingliang sneered. “Ashamed? That’s right. Aren’t you a tycoon? Aren’t you a socialite? Don’t you have money and power so you look down on me? Fine, I’m here to humiliate you, this tycoon, this socialite! So what if you have money and power? You still have to hunker down here in front of me butt-naked!”

Shen Zhiheng lifted the blanket and sat up. “All right, you’ve succeeded. You’ve already humiliated me. Can I trouble you to give me some clothes? If I continue being naked like that I’ll be ashamed to death.”

“Beg me.”

Shen Zhiheng lifted his legs and sat on the bed. The bed was in a corner, touching two walls. He sat at the corner with his legs crossed, looking up at Li Yingliang.

“Chairman Li, I beg you to give me some clothes.”

“What if I don’t?”

Shen Zhiheng looked at Li Yingliang for a while, and finally said, “You’re too childish.”

Li Yingliang did not expect that he would say that, and that sentence rendered him speechless. Shen Zhiheng was right, he realised that his actions and words were indeed quite childish. If Yokoyama Akira found out that he had not done anything proper and had just concerned himself with avenging his personal grievances and sparring verbally with Shen Zhiheng, he would have probably gotten a scolding.

“Remember what you said,” he pointed at Shen Zhiheng. “I’ll give you clothes, and you’ll cooperate with me.”

Shen Zhiheng nodded once.

With his own money, Li Yingliang instructed Li Guisheng to buy a shirt and a pair of pants from the street.

Li Guisheng chose large-sized clothes, and actually managed to get it right. The shirt fit Shen Zhiheng’s measurements, while the pants were slightly short.

Dressed neatly, Shen Zhiheng sat on the edge of the bed, lifting his head as he said to Li Yingliang, “Alright. What do you want to ask? I’ll answer you.”

Li Yingliang had been squatting on the grille all along, and now his legs were numb. He sat down, massaging his calves as he stared at Shen Zhiheng. He suddenly realised that this was not how an interrogation should look like. He could not constantly squat or sit above Shen Zhiheng’s head; lying down was even more out of the question. He had to be face to face with Shen Zhiheng; the prerequisite was that it had to be safe.

Li Yingliang instructed the Japanese soldiers to surround the water dungeon, with their guns aimed straight at Shen Zhiheng. Then, he opened the window, sent someone down to put handcuffs on Shen Zhiheng’s wrists, before finally hanging an iron chain down from the grille. He ordered someone to wrap the iron chain a few rounds around Shen Zhiheng’s waist. Hindered by those chains, even if Shen Zhiheng wanted to rebel, his range of motion would be limited.

Shen Zhiheng let them do what they wanted with him, completely without any hint of resistance. Li Yingliang climbed down the small iron ladder, while Li Guisheng lowered a wooden chair down.

Li Yingliang shifted the chair over, and sat down in front of Shen Zhiheng with a good distance between them. He crossed his legs and tilted his head, a look of disdain on his face as he stared coldly at Shen Zhiheng in front of him. Shen Zhiheng’s short hair drooped down, messily covering half of his forehead. There were scabs on the bridge of his nose and his lips were caked with a layer of dry skin. As if he could not withstand the brightness of Li Yingliang’s oily hair and leather shoes, he squinted his eyes slightly, fine wrinkles appearing at the edges of his eyes. However, there was sincerity in his gaze as he stared at Li Yingliang, waiting for him to ask his questions.

It was Li Yingliang’s first time seeing such an undignified Mr. Shen. Logically speaking, he should be laughing with unrestrained glee, to let out the anger brimming in his chest. But the moment he remembered that Shen Zhiheng was not human, he felt like his victory was meaningless; not only could he not laugh, he was even angrier.

He had gone through the pains of fighting with Shen Zhiheng, a conflict so intense that it encompassed the full spectrum of human emotions from love to hate, and friendship to enmity. And now, at the end of it all, he was told that Shen Zhiheng was actually not the upper class character he had in his mind, but actually a monster that bit people and sucked their blood. Was there a scam on this earth that was even more ludicrous than this? Was this not Shen Zhiheng playing him like a fool?

Li Yingliang was so full of hatred that he felt like dying, but he did not know just who he should hate. So, he could only hate Shen Zhiheng. As he stared pointedly at Shen Zhiheng, his eyes slowly became red; he had suppressed his anger to such an extent that he had forced the tears out of his own eyes.

Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng continued staring eagerly at him, his face calm and innocent.

Li Yingliang inhaled deeply, opening his mouth, “What are you looking at?”

Shen Zhiheng smiled slightly. “I really didn’t expect that I would fall into your hands.”

“Of course you didn’t. You look down on me, you don’t believe that I’m better than you.”

Shen Zhiheng lowered his head with a strange half-smile, fiddling with the handcuffs with his long and slender fingers. “I don’t really look down on you.”

“It doesn’t matter. Even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t have amounted to much, I don’t care. Speak, what on earth are you?”

“I…” Shen Zhiheng dragged, replying hesitantly. “I think, I should be a sick person.”

“What sickness?”

“I don’t know. It’s probably an infectious disease.”

[drama--universe]

"Stolen" Lover

Requested by anonymous: Hello! I'm glad you're back to writing after a break due to a hand problem. Welcome back! Otherwise, I'll leave a request for Xiao Xingchen - The reader (female reader) hears the conversation of her parents/uncle/any other relative that they want to sell the reader as a prostitute (either for Guangshan or another person) because they are on the verge of poverty and the reader because of her beauty can be sold for a good price. So the reader runs away at night. But the reader's relatives are watching her, so they capture her and want to take her back home so they can sell her the next day. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan heard the reader screaming for help. When the reader is freed, the reader is still skeptical of the two men, thinking that they want to take the reward for selling her instead of her relatives. Both men assure her that they definitely don't plan to. The reader then travels with them and something much more than friendship happens between her and Xingchen.

Pairing: Xiao Xingchen x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.7k words

Warnings: harassment, toxic family

Xingchen didn't often join in social activities, preferring to stay in his comfort zone and mostly alone, Song Lang was the only exception to this rule. Today, for the first time in a long while, he had decided to show his face at a gathering for once. Trust it when he says that he immediately regretted that choice, not even seconds after entering the pavilion.

The Lanling Jin clan was already fully drunk, Xingchen never really got along with Lan's to begin with and the Yunmeng clan were closed off to their own members. It was almost painful at how many clicks had formed and how Xingchen, like usual, did not fit into any of them. So he stood in the corner of the courtyard, listening to the conversations. The one that caught his attention the most was from his right, Jin Guangshan, who was loudly talking and laughing. In front of him stood a woman and her family, presumably her parents. She looked widely uncomfortable, her form visually shaking as Guangshan put a hand on her shoulder before raising his hand to cradle her face, where she physically recoiled from the touch. His eyes remained on the woman as her parents pushed her closer to the Lanling leader, who once again took her face into his hand and inspecting her. When released from the man's grip, she bowed her head before racing off. Although to most she would look fairly composed, Xingchen was able to see the fear beneath the façade. Her parents looked on as the woman left before continuing their conversation with Guangshan, not even caring enough to check on their daughter. Not wanting to meddle with others affairs, Xingchen turned his attention away and continued on with his eavesdropping of others conversations.

Soon, the sun set and the moon took its place high up in the sky, settling in between the thousand of stars. The part had started settling down, most clans retracting to their rooms or even just leave back to their own homes. Xingchen followed the masses, leaving the pavilion with plenty of food still stuffed in his pockets. He'd need it for his journey, that's what he told himself. Besides, otherwise it would all be thrown out anyway and he hardly thought that was necessary. As he parted from the groups before and behind him, making his way to a cheap inn that none of the "high-class" people would want to stay at. Entering his room, he was greeted by Song Lan laying on the bed. A small grey ball was bouncing up and down against the ceiling with a bored look before pausing, holding the ball still while turning his head to look at Xingchen. Seeing the exhausted look on his face, Song Lan scoffed with a smile.

"Looks like you had fun." The tone was meant to be mocking, but the smile on Song Lan's said enough for Xingchen to know that it wasn't meant maliciously. Instead, he sat in his own bed and laid down after removing his shoes. He ignored the banging of the ball against the ceiling and instead tried to sleep. He had a feeling that the next day would be busy.

Like he had imagined, it was busy. A festival started, right on the day that they were leaving. Streets covered with masses of families, lovers and friend groups. It was loud and busy, everything that Xingchen despised. Nonetheless, they pushed through everyone with soft apologies spilling from their lips when they were met with glares. The were stopped, however, by a large crowd that had filled the area. They blocked the path effectively, Xingchen and Song Lan barely were able to push through. When they did, they were met with a very odd sight. In the middle of the ground laid someone, cowering from a group that loomed above them. Upon closer inspection, the person on the ground was a woman. More specifically, the woman that Xingchen had seen yesterday, the one who was supposedly marrying Guangshan. Her family, he guessed it was her family, were clearly mad at her as the pulled her up against her wishes. She tried to tug herself away from the grip that her father had on her, but to no avail. Xingchen didn't know what came over him, like a spell that enchanted him to help her. So he set off, marching her way and ripping her from the elder's grip and placing her behind him. Xingchen didn't know why he was doing this, he didn't like to be noticed. He especially didn't like to be noticed in a way that would be dangerous for him, which was this situation. Not only was he pissing off the family of the poor woman behind him, but he was probably pissing off Guangshan by stealing his wife as well. Yet here he stood, not wavering in the slightest as his arm blocked her from view.

The man in front of him was ready to start talking, hand grasping to get ahold of his daughter once more, but Xingchen walked backwards before drawing his sword. The tip was inches away from the man, a yelp from his family and gasps from the crowd. Song Lan, who finally wormed his way through the crowd, jumped out and settled between the two parties and sighed loudly. The blade from Xingchen rested against his chin, but Song Lan didn't move it and instead turned his head.

"Why don't you explain why you're hurting the lady?" Song Lan spoke and the man saw red, cursing and yelling out at the two strangers and his daughter. So Xingchen did whatever seemed more logical. He took ahold of the woman behind him before shedding his sword and grabbing Song Lan. Then he ran off, pushing through the crowd with both of them behind him.

"They were going to sell me!" The woman was quick to yell as they came to stop near the edge of town, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath.

"You're not going to, right?" Taking a step back, she looked at them with a worried gaze.

"How much would you cost?" Song Lan whispered, receiving a short jab in the ribs from Xingchen while the woman just laughed uncomfortably. "We're poor, so you're lucky if you got a hundred coins." She laughed back to which Song Lan shrugged, claiming that it wouldn't be enough for the trouble and that it was better to just keep her. This earned him a more genuine laugh before she relaxed more, standing straight before raising her arms high and bowing.

"(Y/f/n), pleasure to make your acquaintance. Even under these circumstances." She, (y/n), gave them a bright smile, which made both men awkwardly greet her back.

"Now... Do either of you have a spare robe, because these underrobes are quite chilly." She grinned softly, clearly a bit uncomfortable as she wrapped her arms around herself. Song Lan shook his head, he never had a spare robe unlike Xingchen. Xingchen pulled out a robe from his bag, handing it to her and watching her put it on. Somehow, his face started heating up as he watched the robe engulf her form. The arms were way too long, the underside of the robe hitting the floor since it was way too long as well. He had no clue as to why he reacted the way he did, he only knew that it annoyed him greatly.

He was definitely not prepared to have you joining him and Song Lan on their trips. Yet he'd have to get used to it now.

"Come on!" You called as you dragged both of the men behind you forward, the two behind you were not happy by it in the slightest. Both were practically whining at this point, Song Lan more than Xingchen, and you turned around to face them before crossing your arms.

"Look, I feel like sleeping in a bed soon and not in the forest. So, let's get this job started and earn something to do that, huh?" "You can sleep in a inn, just not all three of us." Song Lan commented and you scoffed, shaking your head at him.

"I'm not sleeping alone, don't feel like being kidnapped." You stuck out your tongue, turning around before flinching when you noticed a poster on the doors of the town. One that held your face, a striking resemblance that made you want to puke.

"Let's go to the next town." Xingchen spoke, but you shook your head with an annoyed huff. You were not going to change towns again, this was already the fifth and you were really not expecting the next to be better. Your family along with Guangshan were persistent, poster having spread to so many places that you basically couldn't go anywhere. The two men looked at each other before nodding and following you inside, but not before Xingchen offered you a veil to cover the bottom part of your face. You took it, putting it on with a grimace before entering the town with the others in tow. You felt uncomfortable, noticing that some looks at you remained a but too long and were often even accompanied by whispers that you could easily hear them from a distance. Faltering in your step, you tried to ignore them while awkwardly grabbing Xingchen's hand. He didn't pull back, instead he just took a hold of your hand firmly to make sure that you knew that he wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"Married~" Song Lan whistled and you scoffed, kicking back to him before taking his hand as well and dragging him along. If anyone would see you three then you would look like a couple who were dragging a kid along, you were sure that would gain a laugh. Then again, it gained a chuckle from you alone as you walked to your destination.

Soon, you reached an inn. It was old, walls covered with scratches and moss growing all over the walls and roof, and you almost feared how stable it would be. But against every doubt, you entered the inn and winced at the unstable creek beneath your feet before you walked to the man at the desk.

"Room for three? Or four if that's handier for you." You gave a smile, even though it was not visible thanks to your veil, and the man looked up from his book before closing it. Opening another book, he looked at the three of you before pointing at you.

"Veil off, we don't take people who don't show their faces." The man spoke and you sighed before taking off the veil, much to the protests of the men behind you. The elder, however, did not look surprised and instead nodded before jotting some things down and taking a key from his desk.

"Second room on the right, ten coppers." He said, holding out an hand to receive his pay before looking at Song Lan and Xingchen when you started to get your pouch.

"You're not letting the lady pay, are you?" "Oh, those old ideas are stupid. Here you go." You handed him ten before snatching the key from his hand. Then you moved to the room, gasping as you entered the room. A large room with large and comfy beds that would make you sleep in an instant. So you did, taking your shoes and outer robe off before throwing yourself on the bed.

"See this!" You could only let out a sigh of content before turning on your side, pushing your face in the pillow and burying yourself under the blanket.

"I could live here." "And I will not, see you!" Song Lan exclaimed before heading out again, leaving you and Xingchen alone. You didn't pay much more attention to him, however, as you just closed your eyes and tried to sleep for just a short time.

Xingchen watched as you fell asleep, surely by steadily, and he smiled softly before settling in his own bed. He didn't sleep, he just watched you sleep peacefully for once. The first time you had since you were traveling with him, ever since that faithful day since he had basically kidnapped you. He had seen you sleeping before, back then you were always twitching and squirming as you tried to ignore the growing nightmares. It was reassuring to see you like this, but he didn't feel comfortable enough to fall asleep himself. So he continued to stay awake, eyes remaining on your form.

Your eyes opened slowly, your sight blurry for a few seconds before turning clear and connecting you to Xingchen's gaze. It was clear that he was staring, not aware that you had awoken just yet.

"Creep." You commented as you sat up, rubbing your eyes before stretching yourself. Xingchen chuckled as he leaned his head back, the first time that he actually took his eyes off you, and you moved a bit closer to him without getting off the bed.

"You slept peaceful for once." He commented to which you frowned before shrugging. It didn't sound unreasonable, you don't remember ever feeling uncomfortable or feeling like anxiety hit you when you woke up. You didn't even register the fact that he new this as a fact, meaning that he had watched sleep you at least a few times. You looked around to search for the second male, finding that he was still absent from the room.

"Song Lan is still out? It's already dark..." You took a look out of the window before looking at Xingchen, who shrugged. "He can protect himself, you know that." He answered and you threw you shoe at him with a soft glare before looking out the window once more.

"You worry too much, he'll be fine." He scoffed and you rolled your eyes at him before noticing his frown. Raising your eyebrow at him, you chucked another shoe at him and asking what was wrong with him. He didn't answer you, instead he looked at the door and away from you. You took ahold of the next object to throw, but you were stopped when he turned around caught you raising it up to throw. You chuckled awkwardly before setting it down again and sighing.

"What is it that makes you so suddenly annoyed?" You asked again and this time he didn't turn away, instead facing you fully before freezing as the door opened. Song Lan sauntered in, catching Xingchen's short glare and also freezing.

"Did I interrupt your confession?" He asked, in a very serious tone, and Xingchen's eyes widened while your mouth just dropped to the floor.

"Confession?!" You exclaimed and Song Lan looked at you before back at Xingchen, shaking his hands. "I'll be downstairs!" And then he took off, leaving you and Xingchen alone once again in an awkward silence. You looked back at him again, gasping for air as you tried to find anything to say. You couldn't think of anything, so the room just remained silent.

"Can we just ignore what he said." "No, no, no, no... Let's not. Explain, please." You said and Xingchen groaned, hand raising and brushing his hair back as he tried to explain. With a bit of pacing, only one sentence was said.

"I'm in love with you." He stated and your eyes widened again before you shook your head, realizing that something like that should already be clear. So instead you got up and walked until you were in front of him. He wanted to back up, but you grabbed the front of his shirt and made sure that he remained closer to you.

"You can't just stop there, please continue." You said and Xingchen blinked before nodding, but remaining quiet. So you chose to start, asking him how long it had been and he answered this quickly, a bit too quick even. 3 months, about half of your time together, had been him crushing on you. Now three quarters of that had been you doing the same... So you didn't really see the point in waiting much longer when you knew it to be mutual.

Pulling him down slightly, enough for you to reach him, and placing your lips on the corner of his mouth. Then you reeled back, giggling at the surprised look on his face before walking past him to the door.

"I'm going to tell Song Lan that he's safe to return." You said, opening the door before shrieking as you were pulled back and the door slammed back shut.

"He can wait."

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A man burns alive in a Palestinian tent in an area filled with displaced civilians and journalists inside the compound of Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the city of Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip on Monday. The strike was responsible for killing one citizen and wounding a number of others. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

GAZA GENOCIDE DAY 290: BORREL SAYS EU TO TAKE ACTION AFTER ICJ ADVISORY DECISION, ISRAELI OCCUPATION ANNOUNCES THE CONFIRMATION OF THE DEATHS OF TWO HOSTAGES IN GAZA, NEW GROUND OFFENSIVE IN KHAN YUNIS DISPLACES HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PALESTINIANS, GENOCIDE CONTINUES ANOTHER DAY

On 290th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 3 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 23 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 91 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or whose bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The European Union's High Representative of the Union of Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, Josep Borrell, declared on Monday that what is happening in the Gaza Strip is unacceptable, and emphasized the EU's support for implementing the International Court of Justice's (ICJ) advisory decision demanding the withdrawal of the Israeli occupation forces and settlements from the occupied West Bank of Palestine.

Borrell then said that relations between the EU and the Israeli entity cannot continue as normal under the current situation.

"Israel can interpret history as it wishes, but respect for international law is binding," the European Union's Foreign Policy Chief added, stating that the EU would discuss how to apply the Court's decision in Gaza.

In more news on Monday, July 22nd, the Israeli occupation army has renewed a ground offensive into the eastern neighborhoods of the city of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, following four months of maneuvers by the 98th Division of the occupation army before its eventual withdrawal last April.

Since then, the occupation army has been gathering intelligence about a supposed renewed presence of the Hamas resistance movement, and attempts by the resistance group to restore its military strength.

The army claims that this renewed strength, and the rebuilding of its fortifications in Khan Yunis, is the reason for their latest ground incursions into the area.

Palestinian witnesses reported seeing occupation army Merkava tanks enter the eastern suburbs of Khan Yunis City, into the evacuated area, where occupation military vehicles where seen penetrating the town of Abasan Al-Kabira, along with other neighborhoods east of the city.

According to reporting on the maneuvers, at least 37 Palestinians have been killed as a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing bombing of Khan Yunis since dawn this morning.

At the same time, the Zionist army ordered the evacuation of more than 400'000 displaced Palestinian civilians and local residents from neighborhoods east of Khan Yunis this morning, while tens of thousands have already fled the area.

Witnesses stated seeing thousands of Palestinians fleeing towards central Khan Yunis and its western suburbs.

Reporting in the Palestinian media outlet Ma'an News Agency cited an Israeli military spokesperson as saying "The evacuations are being carried out through text messages, recorded voice messages, phone calls, Arabic-language media broadcasts and announcements."

In more news on Monday, Hebrew-language media outlets are reporting that two Israeli prisoners, who were being held by the Palestinian resistance movement Hamas, in the Gaza Strip, were confirmed to be killed in their custody.

The two hostages, who the occupation media claims were killed by Hamas, were Alex Danzig and Gaev Buchstab, who were kidnapped by the resistance group and taken back to Gaza on October 7th, 2023, while their bodies continue to be held by the resistance group.

The announcement said the decision to acknowledge the two hostages as dead was made after gathering intelligence information, and was approved by a committee made up of experts from the Ministry of Health, working in conjunction with the Ministry of Religion and the Israeli police.

Reporting on Israeli Channel-12 News states that the circumstances leading to their deaths continue to be investigated by professionals from various fields.

Previously, the Hamas resistance movement announced the deaths of the two hostages back in March of this year, which they say resulted from the Israeli occupation forces' bombing raids and a shortage of medicines.

Meanwhile, the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) confirmed in a post to the social media platform X on Sunday that "malnutrition in Gaza poses a major risk to pregnant women and newborns amid an increase in stillbirths, low-weight babies, emaciation and delayed growth."

The post went on to say that "it has become increasingly common for low-weight babies to be born in Gaza," adding that "Malnutrition in Gaza poses a major risk to pregnant women and newborns, amid an increase in stillbirths, low-birth-weight babies, and others suffering from emaciation and delayed growth."

In a separate and unrelated post on X, UNRWA Commissioner-General, Philippe Lazzarini, said that the Israeli occupation forces opened heavy fire on at a United Nations convoy heading to Gaza City, stating that "While there are no casualties, our teams had to duck and take cover."

Lazzarini said the incident took place on Sunday, and said that the UN teams had been traveling in "clearly marked UN armoured cars" and were wearing "UN vests".

The UNRWA Chief stated that "One vehicle received at least five bullets while waiting just ahead of the Israeli Forces’ checkpoint south of Wadi Gaza. The car was severely damaged, it left the convoy. The teams re-assembled and finally reached Gaza City."

"Like all other similar UN movements, this movement was coordinated and approved by the Israeli Authorities," Lazzarini said of the incident.

"Humanitarian aid workers are NOT a target," Lazzarini concluded, adding that "those responsible must be held accountable."

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation's genocide seemingly goes on endlessly in Gaza, with the occupation army continuing to target civilian housing and infrastructure, with ongoing bombing and shelling pummeling various axis of the Strip.

In one example, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) bombed a residential house in the Qizan Al-Najjar neighborhood, south of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of 3 Palestinians, including two children, and wounding a number of others.

Another occupation airstrike targeted a mosque in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, wounding several citizens.

Following the previous strike, occupation artillery shelling targeted a residential home belonging to the Qadan family, next to Al-Saddiqin Mosque, north of the town of Beit Lahiya, in the north Gaza Strip, leading to the death a citizen and injuring several others.

Zionist warplanes also bombed a gathering of civilians in the Mirage area, north of the city of Rafah, south of Gaza, killing two Palestinians and wounding a number of others who were transferred to the Nasser medical complex in Khan Yunis.

Later on, occupation fighter jets went on to bomb a civilian residence belonging to the Batash family on Nakhal Street in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood, east of Gaza City, while Zionist aircraft also bombed a house in the University College area, south of Gaza City, resulting in a fire.

Additionally, Israeli warplanes bombed a residential house belonging to the Jadallah family, west of Khan Yunis, killing one citizen and wounded at least 5 others.

Similarly, a young girl was killed, and 6 other citizens wounded, when occupation fighter jets bombed the Al-Raqab family home in the town of Bani Suhaila, east of Khan Yunis.

The Israeli occupation's atrocities continued into Monday morning when the occupation army detonated two entire residential blocks in the Tal al-Sultan neighborhood, as well as the al-Hay al-Saud areas, west of Rafah City, resulting in thick plumes of smoke and dust rising into the air from the sites.

Witnesses report seeing large numbers of Israeli quadcopter drones flying over areas of central Gaza, specifically in the skies over the Al-Nuseirat Camp.

Meanwhile, Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital announced the death of a child named Maryam Mustafa al-Khatib, who succumbed to injuries sustained in the Israeli bombing of an apartment in the Nuseirat Camp.

It was also reported that occupation fighter jets launched two raids in the vicinity of the University College in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood, southwest of Gaza City, and a third raid east of the city.

Paramedics with the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) reported the recovery of 3 martyrs and several wounded civilians as a result of an Israeli missile strike on a residential apartment belonging to the Batsh family, on Al-Nakhl Street in the Al-Tuffah neighborhood, east of Gaza City, while the dead and wounded were transported to Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in the city.

Zionist warplanes also bombed a gathering of civilians in the vicinity of Al-Albeen Mosque in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, killing one Palestinian and wounding a number of others.

The crimes of the Zionist entity didn't end there, occupation aircraft also bombarded a residential house in the city of Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of two civilians and wounding several others.

In yet another war crime of the Israeli occupation, Zionist warplanes bombed a tent for journalists inside the compound for Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, killing one citizen and injuring a number of others.

The Civil Defense Authority is also reporting the strike, stating that one death and several injuries, including critical cases, occured after occupation forces targeted the tent of journalists inside the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital compound.

Palestinian medical sources are also reporting the death toll from intensive Israeli shelling of the eastern neighborhoods of Khan Yunis, in southern Gaza, has risen to more than 40, which they say coincides with the forced displacement of hundreds of thousands of civilians, along with catastrophic humanitarian and medical conditions.

The Nasser medical complex in Khan Yunis City says it has received hundreds of dead bodies and wounded residents over the last three hours as the occupation army continues hammering the city with constant shelling and airstrikes.

In statement, the medical sources told official Palestinian news agency WAFA News that "We are losing the lives of patients and the injured due to lack of capabilities. We do not have the minimum requirements and supplies to treat the wounded."

The hospital is also calling for "urgent" blood donations for the wounded and sick inside the complex, due to a severe shortage of blood units.

Their source is also cited as saying that the blood shortage "poses a serious threat to the lives of patients and the injured, in light of the ongoing massacres carried out by the occupation forces against innocents and civilians."

In the meantime, in central Gaza, medical sources with Al-Awda Hospital told Anadolu News Agency that two citizens were killed, and a third wounded, after Zionist fighter jets bombed a gathering of civilians on Salah al-Din Street, northeast of the Al-Nuseirat Camp.

Local sources say that mass displacement is again occuring towards areas west of Khan Yunis after the start of the occupation's maneuvers into the east of the city, with most heading towards the Al-Mawasi area after evacuation orders were given by the occupation.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing war of extermination in the Gaza Strip, the endlessly rising death toll now exceeds 39'006 Palestinians killed, including at least 10'000 women and well over 15'000 children, while another 89'818 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

This brings the total number of casualties to 128'824, or the equivalent of 5.6% of Gaza's 2.3 million residents.

July 22nd, 2024.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews

[loosingmoreletters]

take some wangxian AU.

Gods are born or they become, but under no circumstances are they made.

At least, that is the assumption.

They cannot interfere in mortal affairs unless it is predestined by the Jade Emperor himself, an exception to the rule.

And yet Lan Wangji finds himself standing in front of a shrine not dedicated to a respected ancestor or a grieved love, but a deity that cannot be. The shrine isn’t well-made, merely scrapped together food of which the little priestess keeping it is quick to take some for herself. She cuts a slice of fruit that looks too unsightly for human consumption and devours it in one quick bite all while glaring at Lan Wangji as if daring him to speak against her actions.

She chews like a wild thing, the fine robes she stole not quite capable of disguising her origin.

Lan Wangji followed the call of a haunted home, hastily abandoned by its owners when cruel spirits came and refused to leave it more than a decade ago. The village has been concerned because the spirits seemed to act up again, but all Lan Wangji’s investigation yields is a pair of siblings and a shrine that shouldn’t be.

“You can’t make us move,” says the girl. “Nobody owns the house, so we might as well live here. Nobody else does.”

The house is still in the name of the family that used to live here and they refuse to return because of the spirits. Spirits that still reside here, now dormant, but ready to be called upon at any moment.

“It isn’t safe here,” he says.

“Duh,” the girl replies. “That’s what the shrine is for.”

“Shrines are for gods,” Lan Wangji tells her because this shrine should have no effect because it isn’t erected in the name of a god.

The girl blinks at him like she doesn’t understand. Perhaps no one has ever taught her, she cannot be older than ten.

“So?” she says. “I don’t need a god. I need someone strong to scare all the demons and they say the Yiling Patriarch is the scariest of them all. And he is real.”

He was real and loved and gone—

“So you can’t make us leave and you can’t take him away,” she says, a little wary. “He keeps the demons away.”

Lan Wangji thinks of a-Yuan, all of seven now, sitting in class. The first time he saw Lan Wangji after a nightmare, he drew him a talisman. Senseless scribbles on paper, driven by an instinct of memories he can no longer recall. The talisman worked, if not in the matter intended.

But senseless writing and childish belief wouldn’t keep resentful spirits away.

He decides to change the course of his inquiry. “How do you know he’s keeping you safe?”

At the question, the girl smiles proudly. “We hear him play at night!” She raises her hands as if playing an invisible dizi and hums a melody she shouldn’t know.

And Lan Wangji’s heart aches.

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Wen Ning is a kindergarten teacher and hobby gardener who has two impossible crushes that he’s trying to get over but just can’t seem to let go of, even knowing both men are married.

Lan Zhan is the sexy (and scary) father of one of Wen Ning’s students, little a-Yuan. He comes to the school fifteen minutes early every day and stands outside his car, waiting for pick-up. Wen Ning gets it! A-Yuan explained that he lives close to the school. It would probably be pretty frustrating, driving home from work and then not ten minutes later having to get up and drive to the school again. And being cooped up at your desk and then being cooped up in your car sounds awful! Of course Lan Zhan wants to stretch his legs while he waits for his son! Just. It’s. It’s a little distracting, glancing out the window and seeing him standing there, looking like that.

(Lan Zhan is actually hoping to catch a glimpse of a-Yuan’s cute teacher. The man is so big and so gentle, he’s wonderful with his students. A-Yuan absolutely adores him. He’s soft-spoken and a bit timid and it contrasts gorgeously with his broad shoulders and the layer of appealing softness that does nothing to hide the strength in his arms and back. Lan Zhan wants to bite him. His husband Wei Ying teases him endlessly for his crush.)

Wei Ying helps to run the city’s Public Garden and owns the plant nursery downtown, both of which Wen Ning visits frequently. He’s extremely knowledgeable and intimidatingly smart -- not just about gardening and horticulture but about seemingly every topic under the sun -- and he’s funny and so, so nice and Wen Ning wouldn’t ever presume to bother someone like that with his awkward self but every time they bump into each other at the public garden Wei Ying comes jogging over with his ponytail bouncing and dirt on his face, grinning his cheshire-cat grin, and Wen Ning can’t talk to him because he’s too pretty but Wei Ying never seems to mind.

(Wei Ying didn’t notice the similarities between his incessant pestering of Lan Zhan in highschool and his incessant pestering of the hot gardener until Jiang Cheng rudely put him on blast for it in the family group chat. Wei Ying might have been babbling for weeks by then about the sweet man with big dark eyes and the bigger biceps who oh-so-earnestly listened to Wei Ying’s rant about plants that attract native pollinators without interrupting and then immediately added a bunch to his plot at the local community garden and blushed very pink when Wei Ying pointed it out but -- look, Wei Ying is only human, and he can only handle so much pure concentrated adorable straight to the face before he needs to scream about it. Lan Zhan is amused, but mostly he’s using Wei Ying’s crush to fuel his possessiveness. As a result, they fuck like newlyweds.) 

Eventually Wen Ning figures out they’re married to each other and while he already knew his crush was hopeless now he starts to feel actually really bad about it. He vows to keep his distance until he can stop treating them both so shamelessly!

At the same time Wangxian figure out that they’re both crushing on the same guy and pretty much immediately decide that maybe they would be open to polyamory after all, but they have to proceed carefully. This is a-Yuan’s teacher, after all, and Wen Ning is so sweet -- they don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable!

Many a misunderstanding follow, with Wen Ning first thinking he’s being propositioned for an affair, and then just as quickly deciding that he’s being shameless and seeing what he wants to see., because obviously neither of them would ever want him. For one, they’re both way out of his league, and for two, they’re very much in love with each other. He’s the one deluding himself into -- what? Fantasizing about being a homewrecker? Honestly, Wen Ning ends up feeling… very not good about himself. He doesn’t like to think that he’s that kind of person.

It’s a-Yuan who finally ends up coming outright and asking Wen Ning if he’ll be a-Yuans third dad because his first two dads clearly want him to and a-Yuan also loves him a lot.

[rayan12sworld]

💙So You Accidentally Kidnapped A Qilin

By:Mikkeneko

Summary:

For untold years Heaven's plan has kept order on earth: they send a qilin, a divine messenger, to choose a worthy king and stand by their side to guide that king in their rule. But ever since the infant qilin of Wu Kingdom was kidnapped, the land has descended into ruin and strife as the five great cultivation sects contend among themselves.

Fifteen years later, the lost qilin is unexpectedly identified in the person of Wei Wuxian, the orphaned ward of the Jiang Sect. Wei Wuxian must struggle with the truth of his nature and what it means for him, his family, and his kingdom -- while also grappling with new and overwhelming feelings for the Lan Sect's cold and haughty Second Young Master! Meanwhile, not all the Sects are resigned to allowing Heaven to order their affairs for them, and if Wei Wuxian doesn't resolve the question of the kingship soon, they may take matters into their own hands...

(Qilin wei wuxian)

Chapter:12/12

Words:83,148

Status:completed

[jcs-singular-slut-strand]

chengsu for the ship bingo please.....

I love them. Rarepair hell

Okay just to be clear i only put a little bit of pink on the "ship because of canon" because of the nod scene at Carp tower. WHY DID HE SWALLOW LIKE THAT????HUH??????

It lowkey makes my blood boil when some people make jokes about jin guangyao and lan xichen having an obvious affair, like girl his wife??? She's right there and she's killing herself. Anyways that's why I think she and Jiang Cheng should fall in love, her husband is ignoring her and jiang cheng has no friends and one family member. Great success!!!

I think about them all the time, I make up scenarios of them in my head. I pictured them going to the MCR reunion tour together??? Bonding activities.

I don't even need them to kiss, i just need them to absolutely not be normal about each other. Lingering hands on arms, the fixing of hair and clothes placement, all too knowing eye contact from across the grand hall.

There's this one AU I have in my head where during the sunshot campaign the Qin Sect send up flairs cause they're under attact and Jiang Cheng + disciples pull up but they need to sneek in to get the wens out (before they make themselves too at home) and they need someone who knows the layout well and Qin Su volunteers. So that's a whole thing, they're running about the Qin Estate and then the war ends and Qin Su basically starts seeing him as this galant knight/protector and ends up naming a dog after him IT'S A WHOLE THING I WONT GET INTO IT

Basically what that whole thing is is chivalric love/they don't need to kiss cause what they've got going on is way weirder than swapping spit with someone

Jiang Cheng is not normal about alot of people and i think it's his turn to be on the receiving end of that:

Qin Su being incredibly Not Normal about Jiang Cheng 2024. Also they're raising a child together??? That's quite intimate

(And if anyone is interested I've got some good fic recs)

Blank bingo sheet

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 4

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

———————————————————————-

Wen Ruohan was extraordinarily pleased with himself.

He usually was – he hadn’t gotten his reputation for being a self-absorbed tyrant for no reason – but in his defense, he was usually right to be. Was he not the most powerful cultivator in the entire cultivation world? Was his family not by far the most mighty and well-respected, his sect already commanding so many others and forcing them to acknowledge their superiority? Were his feet not firmly placed on the path to divinity and immortality, thereby ensuring that he and his kin would rule the entire cultivation world in time?

He was especially pleased with himself today, though.

Standing in the entrance hall of his Sun Palace to await the arrival of his newest prize, Wen Ruohan congratulated himself yet again on having come up with such a brilliant scheme.

The seed of the idea had been planted in that initial conversation he’d had with his spies in the Lan sect, Wang Liu and what’s-his-name, his predecessor – the twists and turns and surprises of that conversation had been the most exciting thing to happen to Wen Ruohan in quite a while. When one got to be the age he was, time flowed differently: he had already seen everything, or felt as though he had, and he spent an awful lot of his time being tremendously bored. Finding something that didn’t bore him was a rarity.

Presumably that was why he hadn’t been able to get what he’d taken to calling “the Lan Qiren situation” out of his head.

Lan Qiren, a married man – the thought still seemed a little ridiculous to him.

Wen Ruohan simply couldn’t imagine his dull and rule-abiding little colleague of ten years ever marrying an obedient little wife, some timid creature who would willingly stay inside her home and concern herself only with women’s affairs, who would give him children but otherwise never bother him. It was impossible. They’d bore each other to death within a year!

But the other alternative was in no way a solution to the problem. In his own way Lan Qiren was quite proud, with a thin face and a touch of temper and supreme confidence in the superiority of his Lan sect – not unlike Wen Ruohan’s own, and therefore at least somewhat admirable, even if obviously Lan Qiren was mistaken about which sect was the best. With such a character, there was no way he’d be able to tolerate one of the more spirited female cultivators, a fire-breather like Yu Ziyuan or even the carefree Cangse Sanren, who it was said that he’d once liked. Absent some highly unusual mitigating circumstances, such as Lan Qiren falling in love, he’d invariably end up butting heads with such a woman. He’d get upset that she wasn’t obeying his family rules, she’d get resentful and feel confined, and in the end it would all explode in some terrible argument, at which point Lan Qiren would lose his temper, grant her a divorce, and send her back to her family’s house before he even realized what he was doing.

And then he’d remain single forever after, because the Lan sect only married once. Such a waste.

Wen Ruohan had dwelled on the problem for several days, which was far more time and attention than he usually paid to issues that only concerned other sects. Not only had he wasted significant amounts of time on it, he had reached no resolution, and he’d gotten more and more irritated over it. It was a waste, a dreadful waste! Lan Qiren would make a mess of marriage, of that Wen Ruohan was quite certain, and that in turn would mean wasting Lan Qiren’s own talents. Unimaginable waste!

Truly, Qingheng-jun didn’t know the value of the piece he was discarding, letting his emotions get the better of him rather than thinking of the benefits he could obtain, for himself and for his sect.

Hadn’t Wen Ruohan been thinking to himself earlier that Lan Qiren’s scheme of teaching students was a brilliant one? Hadn’t he mentally praised the sect that sent him their daughter, the way that such a match would let them take advantage of the connections Lan Qiren would have made with other sect leaders in his ten years of leadership? Wasn’t Lan Qiren virtually guaranteed to have, in addition to those other traits, the most comprehensive possible understanding of the inner workings of the Lan sect, which no outsider would ever be able to unravel without assistance? Was he not, boring as he might be as a personal matter, a highly talented cultivator – by repute a brilliant musician, by rumor a splendid swordsman, even if he’d never publicly demonstrated his skills in night-hunts or duels? Wen Ruohan himself could confirm the strength of Lan Qiren’s golden core, which, while not the strongest, was nevertheless incredibly bright, suggesting an immensely solid foundation.

It had taken Wen Ruohan several more days of stewing in irritation at Qingheng-jun’s profligacy, and his own unacceptable loss in not having taken advantage of Lan Qiren before it was too late, for the answer to come to him.

The solution.

After all, Wen Ruohan did not lose.

It wasn’t even that unorthodox a solution, not really. Marriage was the problem, and marriage was the answer, too. Most sects weren’t like the Lan sect, squeamish and overly concerned about matters of the heart; the vast majority, including his own, used marriage to resolve political problems. Wen Ruohan himself had married three wives, both his original first wife and now the later two, and each of them had brought his sect tremendous benefits. He’d made similarly smart matches for his sons as well – Wen Xu was fifteen and had already met his future bride, though obviously the woman hadn’t yet been brought back into their household and wouldn’t until he was twenty, and Wen Chao, who was only eight, had an ironclad betrothal contract with one of the daughters of a sect that Wen Ruohan had been eying for some time.

No, it was all clear enough. Why should Wen Ruohan grumble about all the advantages that Lan Qiren brought with him being wasted or at minimum squandered by some unthinking, unworthy lesser sect? Why, when he could instead seize all those benefits for himself, for himself and his Wen sect, and in so doing maximize the gains and minimize the losses?

All good things in the world ought to be his.

Was Wen Ruohan not the shining sun, gazing down at all the world from high above? Did it not make perfect sense that a sun like him could only be accompanied by something equally lofty as the clouds?

Really, sometimes Wen Ruohan astounded himself with his own brilliance.

Once he’d realized that he could capitalize on Qingheng-jun’s missteps to seize Lan Qiren for his own sect, the best of all possible solutions, Wen Ruohan had immediately started to strategize the best means of doing so. Naturally he wouldn’t be content with sending a woman of his family to marry into the Lan sect, what with all the disadvantages he’d already enumerated, but it had occurred to him that Qingheng-jun might, with some convincing, be willing to marry Lan Qiren out.

Typically such a thing would be unthinkable. Giving up one of their sons the way they would a daughter, marrying them out to live elsewhere – with their notoriously idiosyncratic philosophy of devotion, the Lan might, at a very extreme reach, accept it as part of a love match, but when proposed as part of a political match, they would see it as a profound humiliation, just as any other sect would.

The issue was the surname, of course. Given the vast ratio by which male cultivators outnumbered female cultivators, marriages between men were hardly unheard of, but there was always the matter of children. It was easy enough to recruit some concubines for the purpose of having them, but the children themselves could only bear one surname.

As a result, a proud clan would never send away a son of their main line if they could help it, and political marriages between men tended to only involve outside disciples or branch families. Giving up their surname like that would be regarded as horribly embarrassing, a loss of face to the sect, disrespect to the pride of their ancestors, and not to mention personally devastating to the pride of the son who would cut off his future family line. Even minor sects would normally only agree to marriages out involving their sons only if they were suffering from hard times, or were seeking an arrangement with a family far above their own in rank and prestige –  and while of course Wen Ruohan personally believed his Wen sect to be such, the Lan sect was unlikely to agree with that characterization.

A Great Sect like Gusu Lan, marrying a son out? Certainly not. They’d never agree to such a thing…under normal circumstances.

Under the present circumstances, however, things were materially different. If Wen Ruohan was right, Qingheng-jun would see Lan Qiren’s humiliation as a benefit of the match, rather than a disadvantage, and therefore be more inclined to agree.

It might work. No – it could work, it would work.

Furthermore, all of Lan Qiren’s marital disadvantages as head of the household would be completely reversed in that context. Lan Qiren was both fussy and temperamental, reserved and, to judge from his interactions with his sect elders, not particularly assertive in personal settings; he would be unwilling to lead where a wife would follow, a stickler for his family rules and yet not quite cruel enough to forcefully impose them onto others unwilling – well, once he’d entered another person’s household, he wouldn’t be able to impose them. He wouldn’t have the right to blather on endlessly, boring any wife he might have to death, and he wouldn’t have the right to insist on anything, either, which meant he wouldn’t be able to lose his temper and demand a divorce.

Instead, he'd have no choice but to either fall in line with his new sect and seek to do his best within it, the way Madam Jin had, or else retreat to his chambers to recreate a version of his original home, the way Madam Jiang did, which was exactly the sort of behavior that had led to people pointedly calling Yu Ziyuan Madam Yu instead. Either would be perfectly acceptable in terms of keeping him from making trouble.

Not that Wen Ruohan was underestimating Lan Qiren. The man had led his sect for ten years, a Great Sect with all the connotations that came with it, and he’d proven himself to be quite a canny operator in his own way. Wen Ruohan had gone back and painstakingly looked over the notes from previous years’ discussion conferences, and through that tedious task had managed to confirm his suspicions that Lan Qiren was actually much better at the political game than his dull outward demeanor might make him seem to be.

He’d followed the trail of those little bits of minutiae that Lan Qiren had been so insistent on – he’d noticed before that some of them had turned out beneficial to the Lan sect, but to his great annoyance he hadn’t realized how beneficial they were. A ridiculous agreement over river tolls, of all things, which Jiang Fengmian had agreed to more to shut Lan Qiren up than anything else, could be pinpointed as the ultimate cause, four years later, of the defection of the once-prosperous Huangshan Fu sect from Yunmeng Jiang to Gusu Lan. And following the switch, they were now rapidly in the process of recovering their previous prestige and wealth, only now all of that glory and tax went into the Lan sect’s coffers instead…

It was brilliantly done, and so subtly that no one would know who to blame if they did not know where to look. And because Lan Qiren was so seemingly dull, no one ever did look!

Finding out that little fact had convinced Wen Ruohan to amend his initial plan of marrying Lan Qiren into one of his family’s branches. He’d already been having trouble thinking of which one to use – one of his distant nieces, Wen Qing, was technically available, but she was so young as to make the offer a little embarrassing in how obviously political it revealed the match to be – and the realization that he might be handing someone genuinely clever over to his cousins to use in their schemes to undermine his authority had immediately dampened Wen Ruohan’s enthusiasm for the idea.

No: Lan Qiren was clearly too valuable a piece to be given out to anyone else, not even to Wen Ruohan’s kinsmen. All good things should belong to him, after all.

That had led Wen Ruohan to his current plan, which was working splendidly, if he did say so himself.

After all, it didn’t matter what other offers Qingheng-jun might receive for Lan Qiren’s hand – there was no one in the cultivation world who could top the offer of Wen Ruohan himself as bridegroom.

Qingheng-jun had certainly been surprised by his proposal, but he’d been intrigued as well. He’d questioned Wen Ruohan’s motives, as rightfully he should – everyone knew that the Wen sect was traditionally disinterested in alliances with other sects, always preferring to stand alone.

Wen Ruohan had laughed in his face.

“You think I’m seeking an alliance?” he said, chuckling darkly. “Don’t waste my time. Do you think you can fool me? Hostages are only worth taking for what they mean to those they leave behind. Tell me truly: if I were to throw your brother into my Fire Palace the very moment after I married him, you wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it, would you?”

“My Lan sect would never stand for such a thing,” Qingheng-jun said coolly, playing it off well enough, but Wen Ruohan had a century of experience in reading men’s faces – he could see the sudden intensification of interest in the other man’s eyes, the surge of satisfaction that could only be obtained from the thought of hurting someone you wanted to hurt, someone you hated past the point of reason. “If we were to accept your offer, we would require assurances that he would be treated well.”

“Naturally he would be treated well,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. “Provided he didn’t make any trouble, that is. If that happens, it’s all on his own head. You can’t reasonably expect me to give up the ability to discipline my own household.”

That would be convincing enough, he thought. If Wen Ruohan actually had been treating Lan Qiren as a mere pawn in a game played against Qingheng-jun and the Lan more broadly, rather than what he was actually doing, it made a certain amount of sense to use himself as the groom – only by making the head of household someone truly untouchable would it be possible to make such a show of strength after marriage.

Qingheng-jun took a sip of tea. “If you aren’t trying to establish an alliance, then what are you seeking?” he asked, putting aside the previous point. He couldn’t have more obviously indicated that he would, in fact, be fine with his little brother being tortured if he’d written it into the contract himself. “What benefit would your offer bring to my Lan sect, or to your Wen sect?”

To you, the real benefit is getting rid of your brother for good, ideally in a place that will cause him the most misery and pain possible, Wen Ruohan thought dryly to himself. Qingheng-jun’s political skills had not been improved by those ten years in seclusion.

“Benefits are precisely what I seek to obtain,” he said aloud. “My sect does not and will not shackle ourselves with open-ended obligations like an alliance. But there are any number of concrete advantages that can be contracted for – advantages that can accrue to both our sects.”

Gusu Lan wasn’t the most natural connection for Qishan Wen to make, being on opposite sides of the country, Gusu as close to the sea as Qishan was far inland, but for a prospective empire-builder like Wen Ruohan, that wasn’t necessarily a problem. With Gusu Lan on his side, he could start making serious inroads into the sects that lay between them, up to and including the powerful Yunmeng Jiang to the south, which would soon find itself hemmed in on two sides. His voracious Wen sect would snap up the sects on their northwestern border, while the sects to their east, which had always played Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan against each other for their own purposes, would quickly start to see the advantages of leaning more towards the Lan…

Qingheng-jun could see it, too.

Wen Ruohan could see the calculation on his face. He was undoubtedly also considering the risks involved – both of them knew that Wen Ruohan would happily swallow down Gusu Lan once he was done with Yunmeng Jiang if he could – but it was clear enough that he thought he’d be able to handle that, perhaps by making another alliance with one of the Great Sects in the north, either Qinghe Nie or Lanling Jin. Probably the latter. The arranged marriage between the heir to Lanling Jin and the daughter of Yunmeng Jiang was very far from settled, after all, as those involved were only children. Once the agreement between Qishan Wen and Gusu Lan became known, the fate of Yunmeng Jiang would become clear, and it wouldn’t be that hard to convince Jin Guangshan that he would be able to do better than the Jiang sect’s sinking ship. And Qingheng-jun, demonstrably willing to sell his generation’s second son for benefits, already had a second son of his own available to be sold in the same manner – little Jin Zixuan could find himself with Lan Wangji as a wife and Jiang Yanli as his concubine, in the end, which would greatly appease Jin Guangshan’s ego. And if after that the Lan and Jin banded together against the rest of them…it really wasn’t a bad deal, all things considered.

It had all gone quite smoothly after that.

Wen Ruohan had insisted on a proxy marriage, not wanting to risk Lan Qiren figuring out some way to disrupt or invalidate the marriage ceremony and mindful of Lan Qiren’s thin face and temper. At least part of Wen Ruohan’s plan depended on winning Lan Qiren over and getting him to agree to continue his little teaching scheme from the Nightless City, to use his established reputation as a teacher that could turn even a good-for-nothing into a proper gentleman to lend credibility to a lion’s den that no sane sect leader would otherwise send their sons. That would only be harder to accomplish if Wen Ruohan started out their married life by publicly humiliating the man.

Besides, Wen Ruohan might appreciate the joys of degradation, but a wedding play required two actors, and he had no intention of making himself a figure of ridicule. A nice, quick, quiet proxy ceremony to seal the contract followed by repeating the bows in the Nightless City would be more than sufficient. Lan Qiren was notoriously rule-abiding – once they were married, and once he’d made bows himself, he would feel he had no choice but to cooperate.

Wen Ruohan wasn’t even planning on announcing their marriage to the rest of the cultivation world, or at least not at first. As far as Wen Ruohan was concerned, the rest of them could wait until the next discussion conference to meet his new Madam Wen, Qingheng-jun having had at least enough conscience and good political sense to insist on his brother receiving the position of first wife as a measure of respect due to his family being a Great Sect, which was only reasonable. Reserving such a surprise would make attending the conference all the more fun: it would ensure that the whole cultivation world spoke of nothing else the entire time but him and his Wen sect, whether in disbelief or fear or worry about what he might be planning, and Wen Ruohan could and would take full advantage of that.

It was a great plan.

The only part left was to welcome Lan Qiren to his new home.

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a smug smile as he watched the carriage make its way to his door, bathed in the light of the setting sun, before slowly rumbling to a stop before the largely deserted entranceway, the normal guards having been dismissed and none of the other Wen disciples interested in being anywhere near their volatile sect leader when he had that particular smile on his face. Someone had festooned the carriage with auspicious couplets and red ribbons as if to make up for the fact that it was in no way a proper wedding sedan, and judging from their relatively good state they had probably only been applied after they’d entered the Nightless City to avoid losing them on the way.

And inside the carriage…

Well, inside there would be Lan Qiren, who was no doubt stewing miserably, and also properly attired in a festive wedding red.

The Wen sect’s color.

Wen Ruohan couldn’t wait.

He waved his hand and the men on the carriage pulled the door open, and a moment or two later a hand emerged, with the rest of Lan Qiren following shortly thereafter.

He was dressed all in red, red and gold, proper wedding finery – the Lan sect had had a shockingly short amount of time to get ready for the wedding, but they weren’t a Great Sect for nothing. Lan Qiren’s clothes were beautifully embroidered with real gold, with all the auspicious signs included, and the luster and shine of the underlying fabric suggested that the entire thing had been made out of an outrageously expensive cloth that was usually used only for accent. The whole get-up was utterly splendid, and if the haste at which it had been adjusted for Lan Qiren could be detected in the way it didn’t quite fit – it was a few fingers too short at the leg, a bit too long at the arm, and had been made for a man with a thicker waist and broader shoulders than Lan Qiren, perhaps his brother – then at any rate the overall effect of the whole get-up was sufficiently stunning that most people wouldn’t notice.

(If Wen Ruohan hadn’t spent a few years of his early life painting wedding portraits for the undeserving as he night-hunted his way through the lands surrounding the imperial city, he probably wouldn’t have noticed any of the details or gaps himself. Not that it mattered, of course; it wasn’t as if he were bothering to get such a portrait done himself.)

Lan Qiren himself was not as impressive as his clothing, though perhaps that was only Wen Ruohan’s familiarity with the man’s fundamentally boring nature that prejudiced him. He certainly looked a match to them: he was tall and handsome, if perhaps a little slenderer than the current fashion preferred (and perhaps even a little skinnier than he had been in the past…?), and of course he had those gorgeous if astringent Lan features. The small hints of premature stress lines around his eyes only served to give him the look of a stern, mature man, and even the beard worked for him, lending him an air of scholarly authority and making him look at least ten years older than he actually was.

It occurred to Wen Ruohan, to his sudden and most profound amusement, that with his own powerful cultivation keeping his appearance to that of a man in his twenties, he would very shortly look younger than his new spouse, if he didn’t already. Anyone unknowing might look at the two of them and, upon hearing that an old cow was eating young grass, think that it was Lan Qiren who was the elder, rather than being the younger by four or maybe even five times over.

“Welcome,” Wen Ruohan said, smug satisfaction and humor seeping into his tone. “I trust you remember the Nightless City from your last visit.”

Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him.

That…wasn’t exactly the reaction Wen Ruohan had expected. Yelling, perhaps, if Lan Qiren were still in a temper, or some sort of death glare and a sharp comment about maintaining propriety – that was more in Lan Qiren’s usual line. He could be quite annoying when he wanted to be. And Wen Ruohan had braced himself for something even worse, such as some sort of long speech about the myriad of dull rules and regulations applicable to marriage and how Wen Ruohan had already broken at least four of them…

Certainly not a reaction of blank confusion.

“Sect Leader Wen?” Lan Qiren said, sounding as blank as he looked. His voice was softer than its usual strident tones, almost hoarse, as if he’d recently been sick and not had much cause to use it, or maybe just that he’d lost it through too much shouting already. “I am…at the Nightless City?”

Wen Ruohan’s eyebrows went straight up to his hairline. Had Qingheng-jun really sent his brother here without even telling him what had been agreed?

“But then who am I marrying?” Lan Qiren asked, confirming that Qingheng-jun had really done exactly that, breathtakingly and unbelievably rude as it would be. “You do not have any appropriate or available women in your clan.”

Wen Ruohan was too busy gaping at the sheer level of the insult to respond at once, though he hadn’t yet figured out whether it was an insult to him or to Lan Qiren. He was retrospectively triply glad that he’d insisted on the proxy wedding to avoid having this farcical scene play out in public. What had Qingheng-jun been thinking?!

Lan Qiren didn’t take insult from his silence, though, and had started frowning in thought.

“There is Wen Qing, I suppose, though she is far too young,” he said, his doubtful tone of voice suggesting that he thought it as bad an idea as Wen Ruohan had concluded it to be. “You already finalized an engagement for Wen Xuechun just last year, and Wen Tian, Wen Shi, and Wen Jing are all already wed – I suppose Wen Jing has already been bereaved, rendering her technically available, but she is still in the mourning period, is she not? It would be inappropriate. And Wen Meitan is…simply unthinkable…”

Wen Ruohan nearly shuddered at the idea of marrying anyone of any worth to Wen Meitan. He appreciated his vicious cousin for how well she served his purposes and pursued his sect’s interests, but after she’d murdered her first three husbands, the last of which he’d chosen for her himself, he’d concluded it would be better for her to remain unwed for the rest of her life. Luckily, Wen Meitan had very happily declared herself content in collecting pretty boy playthings from the local populace of commoners. He’d never quite determined whether her voracious appetite was driven by some twisted cultivation technique or simply reflected her personality, and he didn’t actually want to know. He certainly wouldn’t be marrying any more well-born cultivators to her, that was for sure.

On the other hand, Wen Ruohan had to admit he was rather impressed by Lan Qiren’s ability to immediately identify and name all the eligible women in the Wen clan’s extended family from memory, a feat made all the more impressive from the fact that Lan Qiren very clearly hadn’t been given the chance to brush up in advance.

“You were right the first time,” he said, shaking off his brief distraction and focusing on the conversation at hand. “My Wen sect in fact does not have any women appropriate for a man of your standing.”

Lan Qiren caught the emphasis at once and nodded, putting the answer together at once. “A cutsleeve marriage, then? And any children presumably from one of the illegitimate girls of your bloodline?”

It was really quite pleasant to speak with someone quick on the uptake, Wen Ruohan reflected. Lan Qiren might be boring, but he was undeniably smart.

So few of Wen Ruohan’s servants could have the same said of them, and his extended family also rarely lived up to his expectations…it was no surprise, though. No one would be able to last as the leader of a Great Sect if they couldn’t meet sword with sword on a battlefield of wit. Lan Qiren might not be on Wen Ruohan’s level, but he had certainly been an able custodian of his sect’s interests, and that put him a good head and shoulders above most everyone else that Wen Ruohan usually had to put up with.

“Just so,” he confirmed.

“I see,” Lan Qiren said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Will you share the contractual provisions that accrue to the benefit of our respective sects upon the marriage? Your Wen sect rather notoriously does not make alliances, so there must be some documentation laying out the exact list, and I would like to know them.”

Maybe he’s too smart, Wen Ruohan thought to himself, though he was still enjoying himself. Asking a question like that! Does he think that he will have equal power here, to act in accordance with his own sect’s interests rather than mine? Or is he indicating his willingness to help my sect further our own interests, signaling that he is willing to be on my side?

Either way…this will be more fun than I thought.

“You’ll have them,” he said, putting his hands behind his back and smirking. “Any other questions?”

For some reason, that got a strange shudder out of Lan Qiren, though he quickly mastered himself.

“Only the first one,” he replied acerbically, as sarcastically as he might have if they were speaking as fellow sect leaders on equal footing. “Which I may remind you that you have yet to answer. Who am I marrying?”

Wen Ruohan let his smirk stretch into a smile full of teeth and threat. “Me.”

“You?” Lan Qiren seemed startled, as Wen Ruohan had intended, but then after a moment he yet again reacted in a way that didn’t accord with Wen Ruohan’s expectations, saying, “Oh. That’s all right then.”

“It…is?” Wen Ruohan arched his eyebrows. “Would you care to explain your thinking?”

Strangely enough, he found himself rather looking forward to Lan Qiren’s reply.

“Marrying a son of the main line out would lose face for my sect if the other party were anyone of lower prestige or rank than myself,” Lan Qiren explained, lapsing into his usual monotone lecturing style, and reflecting exactly the same thoughts that Wen Ruohan had had himself. “Given that I am the second son of a Great Sect, that leaves very few options – but your Wen sect could at least plausibly claim to be one of them, though under normal instances I suspect we would dispute that. Still, of the Great Sects, yours is the most powerful, with the widest influence, exceeding even my Lan sect’s own, and marrying you directly obviates the issue of rank. A second son is in the end only a second son, whereas you are Sect Leader in your own right, so your rank obviously exceeds my own. The story will undoubtedly go around that we are sealing a pact of such incredible moment that it requires the presence of a hostage.”

He paused momentarily, frowning thoughtfully even as Wen Ruohan tamped down his amusement – it wouldn’t do to laugh in Lan Qiren’s face, especially since he was right on all counts.

“Go on,” he prompted. “Keep going.”

Lan Qiren looked a little uncomfortable, though only in the normal way he did whenever Wen Ruohan talked to him during discussion conferences, and cleared his throat before continuing. “Since the only hostage is on your side, it would imply that my Lan sect got the majority of benefits, at least in the short-term,” he said. “Looking at it from the outside, I would assume that the Lan sect sent me to you in exchange for your support in some endeavor, with myself serving as security for their eventual promise of returning the favor...ah. Will there be a war, then?”

Wen Ruohan couldn’t help it: he burst out laughing.

It had taken him a full day of careful nudging to slowly guide Qingheng-jun into reaching the conclusion that a war would be a worthwhile thing to ask the Wen sect for help with, and another day before Wen Ruohan had pretended to permit himself to be convinced to lend his Wen sect’s support for another sect’s war of conquest. And Lan Qiren had figured it out just like that!

And now he’s mine, Wen Ruohan thought gleefully, conveniently forgetting all his earlier complaints about how boring Lan Qiren would be as a spouse. Qingheng-jun will live to regret this agreement of ours, mark my words. All good things belong to me!

“I take it that the answer is yes,” Lan Qiren said with a look of censure. Not entirely a surprise: he would never have agreed to such a proposal from Wen Ruohan. “You can stop laughing at any time. I admit that I may be pointing out the obvious, but you did ask me to explain. Who is the target? Not Moling Tong, they haven’t had a strong sect in years…”

“Quanjiao Liu,” Wen Ruohan said, mastering himself and shaking his head, still chuckling. “A little further away from Gusu, to be sure, but they’re a local powerhouse. If they fall, the area around them will be destabilized, and the remaining sects can then be picked off at leisure.”

“Intelligent, if despicable. I should have thought of that.”

Wen Ruohan let out another chuckle, wholly against his will. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You already figured out the ‘obvious’ fact that there will be a war, while I would wager that the rest of the cultivation world, with the exception of maybe five people, will likely be in for a solid few months of hard thinking before they reach the same conclusion…once they hear about the agreement, anyway.”

“The proxy marriage,” Lan Qiren said, understanding dawning on his face. “To keep it quiet until I arrived, and the deal was sealed.”

He’d misunderstood, but Wen Ruohan was too lazy to correct him. Political motives always sounded better than personal ones.

“Indeed,” he said. “Speaking of which, I’ve arranged for a second ceremony to take place now. Come with me, we have bows to make.”

“A second ceremony?” Lan Qiren frowned. “Is there any reason to doubt the validity of the proxy?”

“None whatsoever,” Wen Ruohan confirmed, amused at what was undoubtedly a flash of disappointment in Lan Qiren’s eyes. “But I intend to see you make your own oaths. I shall expect you to live up to them.”

Lan Qiren pressed his lips together in annoyance, perhaps at the suggestion that he wouldn’t live up to oaths made in his and his sect’s name without personally performing them, but he jerked his head in a tight nod.

When the bows were done, Wen Ruohan led Lan Qiren to the courtyard he’d picked out for him. A relatively isolated but spacious courtyard that someone had, at some point, named the Crescent Moon Courtyard, it wasn’t as glamorous as the one usually given to the first Madam Wen, but Wen Ruohan hadn’t wanted to get into another fight with Lu Qipei – whose position that had previously been, and who was not taking her demotion with particularly good grace – to get her to move out. Anyway, he thought Lan Qiren would prefer the more serene atmosphere.

“You’ve had a long journey,” he said with condescending kindness so patently false that Lan Qiren gave him a withering look for even trying it. “I won’t demand anything more from you tonight.”

But only tonight, he meant, because shocking Lan Qiren’s sensibilities was definitely part of the fun here, and Lan Qiren clearly understood his implication, his expression going sour once more.

But then, upending Wen Ruohan’s expectations yet again in what was starting to get to be a bad habit, Lan Qiren then forced the expression away into something more neutral and cleared his throat once more.

Wen Ruohan patiently waited for him to speak.

“I have never considered myself a man who would marry,” Lan Qiren said, looking at Wen Ruohan’s chin in what was as close as he ever really came to voluntarily initiating direct eye contact. His tone was formal, the words clearly practiced in advance. “But now that matters have reached the present state, I intend to honor my vows and do my best by you. I hope that we will be able to find a way to be happy.”

How charming, Wen Ruohan thought, suppressing a smirk. Charmingly naïve, anyway. Classic Lan sect…

“I look forward to the life we will create together. And I promise you, for my part, I shall endeavor with my best efforts to live up to your expectations of me as your husband.”

And then Lan Qiren reached out and caught Wen Ruohan by the collar, drawing him in and pressing their lips together.

It was a dry, brief press, nothing more, certainly nothing exciting, but any initiation whatsoever was still far beyond what Wen Ruohan had been expecting from someone as prissy and almost certainly virginal as Lan Qiren. On the contrary, he’d been prepared for Lan Qiren to do everything in his power to avoid consummating their relationship. He’d expected to be able to use the suggestion of sex as a means of teasing the other man, or even perhaps of threatening him.

He hadn’t expected Lan Qiren to start something.

Wen Ruohan was still blinking in disbelief when Lan Qiren, ears now bright red, bid him a very stiff good night and disappeared into his courtyard.

How…intriguing.

Wen Ruohan hadn’t been quite so consistently taken by surprise by anyone in years, and it had rather knocked him off his balance. That was the only reason he could possibly give for why he managed to make it almost all the way back to his own quarters before his mind finally caught up with him –

“Wait,” Wen Ruohan said, coming to a dead halt in the middle of the hallway, abruptly appalled. “Did he just say that he was going to be the husband?!”

[mxtxfanatic]

Actually, I want to do a little mini-analysis of this scene:

Lan Sizhui lowered his head. “If this is the case, those people at Mo Manor, we’re afraid...we have to take responsibility...and now Mr. Lan and everyone have fallen unconscious and won’t wake up...”

The silence was heavy. After a moment, Wei Wuxian patted his shoulder and said, “The one responsible isn’t you all, it’s the person who put the ghost hand there in the first place. There are some things in this world which are out of our control.”

—Chapt. 19: Sunrise I, fanyiyi

So here, Lan Sizhui has just put together that the arm they captured at Mo Manor was actually set there specifically after the Lan disciples’ arrival. Because the Mo family all perished due to the appearance of the arm, and the arm was obviously a set up for the juniors, he blames himself and his fellow disciples for the deaths that occurred. However, Wei Wuxian stops him and tells him that his guilt is misplaced, as the only guilty party is the one responsible for setting up the arm in order to bring chaos to Mo Manor.

This brings me to how so many people—both characters and in the real world fandom—try to place blame at Wei Wuxian’s feet for the deaths that others set up to happen: the fall of Lotus Pier, Qiongqi Path (both the labor camp liberation and the ambush), Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli’s deaths, the Nightless City bloodbath. Wei Wuxian was not the instigator of these events; he was not even someone who went into these events knowing that the outcome would be death (minus Nightless City since it was, after all, a banquet for the cultivation clans to come together to kill him). He was simply the person that others planted a piece of chaos around in order to draw him into their affairs and ensure that he could not escape. It isn’t Lan Sizhui’s fault that the arm was placed at Mo Manor to catch the attention of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian at the expense of the Mo family, just as it is not Wei Wuxian’s fault that others schemed against him and it led to multiple tragedies.

[fandomtravelers]

Found family dynamics in shows

Okay I'm a sucker for found family dynamics in shows so I'm going to list all the found family or platonic relationships I know of. In TV shows/series. Just because :) ALSO please add if you know more, because I'm probably missing a whole lot. I JUST WANT MORE.

Here are the ones me and my friends know or have found (some might be father daughter centric and they're all from very random fandoms so excuse that) :

1. Kakashi & Team 7 (Naruto)

2. Anakin & Ahsoka & Obiwan (Clone wars. I know the whole star wars universe too, but I'm focusing on clone wars)

3. Kate Bishop & Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

4. Farah Dowling & Bloom (Fate : Winx)

4. Charming & Emma (Once Upon A Time)

5. Bay Kennish & Daphne Vasquez (Switched at Birth)

6. Cirilla & Geralt (The Witcher)

7. Calliope & Augie (tidelanders)

8. Byakuya & Rukia (Bleach)

9. Sara & Danny (Witchblade)

10. Georgia & Rube (Dead like me)

11. Silco & Jinx, Vander & Vi (Arcane)

12. Andrè & Jane (Painkiller Jane)

13. Jamie & Jonas & Jay (Bionic woman)

14. Dr. Tom & Erica (Being Erica)

15. The pines family (Gravity falls)

16. Tom & Cassie (the inbetween)

17. The Gaang & Team Avatar (Avatar the last Airbender & Legend of korra)

18. Kara & Clark (Supergirl & superman/batman apocalypse)

19. Charlie & Miles matheson (revolution)

20. Arthur & Joan & Auggie & Annie (Covert affairs)

21. Khlyen & Dutch (Killjoys)

22. Guerrero & Ames (Human Target)

23. Adam & Emma (Mutant X)

24. Nolan & Emily "Amanda" (Revenge)

25. Voight & his whole team (Chicago P. D.)

26. Elena & Jeremy (Bitten)

27. Jinggang & Chu hun (double world)

28. Hannibal & Abigail (Hannibal)

29. Dream & Death (The sandman)

30. Jiwoo & Mujin (My name)

31. Buffy & Giles (BTVS)

32. Benedict & his kids (Mysterious Benedict society)

33. The cullen family (twilight)

34. Elijah & Yo Han (the devil's judge)

35. Magnus & Clary (Shadow hunters)

36. Gu xiang & Wen Kexing (Word of honor (Cdrama))

37. Optimus & the human kids (Transformers prime)

38. Mildred & her teachers (Mainly miss hardbroom)

39. Dylan & Lizzie (instinct)

40. Marina & Arturo (A private affair)

41. Moiraine & Lan (Wheel of time)

42. the BAU team (Criminal minds)

43. The SVU team (Law & Order : SVU)

44. Ellie & Joel (TLOU)

45. Barbara & the batfam (Batgirl, batman comics)

46. Carmen & Shadow San (Carmen sandiego)

47. Nile & the rest of the old guard (the old guard)

48. Nick Fury & Maria Hill (secret invasion)

49. Jordan & Garrett (crossing Jordan)

50. America chavez & Doctor strange (Multiverse of Madness)

51. The Eternals (Eternals)

52. Enola & Sherlock (Enola Holmes)

53. NCIS team/family (NCIS)

54. Aizawa & his kids (BNHA)

55. Abigail & Ichabod (Sleepy Hollow)

56. Carol & Kamala (The Marvels)

57. Gojo & his students (JJK)

58. The golden trio (HP)

59. Ryan & Max (The following)

60. ICC team (crossing lines)

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: Operation Barking Dog, ch. 8

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Fairy & Mò Xuányǔ, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī & Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Little Apple, Fairy, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Family, Mutual Pining, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, domestic, love confessions, getting together

Summary: In a world where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn’t have drunk sex and there was no confession in the temple, the pining continues as they travel across Jianghu post-canon. In which Wei Wuxian learns Mo Xuanyu adored Xianzi (Fairy) and decides to honor him by again attempting the impossible: curing his cynophobia. Largely novel and donghua canon. Very loosely based on an @angstymdzsthoughts post.

Notes: see end

AO3 link

——————

Wei Ying’s birthday was a quiet affair, different only in that Lan Wangji asked Hu-furen to cook some spicy foods and sau mein, providing a whole fish and whole chicken, along with other ingredients needed for a birthday meal.

Earlier in the day, they picked up the ordered clothing in the nearby town, keeping the shoes off for another trip to avoid the bad luck of shoes as a birthday gift, spent the day at the market, where Lan Wangji found a fur-lined hooded cape that would keep Wei Ying warm during their travels.

They returned to the farm to a beautifully cooked meal complete with sweet lotus paste shoutao Lan Wangji had purchased in town, hongdan, bai qie ji, whole steamed fish with scallions and shitake mushrooms, and tangyuan, along with millet and a variety of vegetable dishes—including tudou si to satisfy Wei Ying’s love of potatoes.

Though normally such a celebration was reserved for the elderly or very young, this was Wei Ying’s first birthday since his resurrection, and Lan Wangji was of the opinion that it deserved recognition by virtue of being miraculous. He simply told Hu-furen it was a milestone birthday and let it rest there, and she didn’t pry. The hongdan were her addition to the meal, serving in part as a birthday gift for Wei Ying from the Hu family, the eggs from the family chickens.

The dinner was a surprise for Wei Ying, who was delighted, but also a little withdrawn at odd moments, perhaps remembering past birthdays, with people long dead. The children presented him with drawings they made for him, some featuring the writing he had taught them, and that seemed to cheer him considerably.

In the weeks that followed, Wei Ying’s tolerance of any dog or puppy save Xiao Ta did not improve more than it already had, and the weather worsened. While Lan Wangji was unbothered aside from occasional issues with his scars, his core strong enough that the cold barely registered, Wei Ying struggled, burying himself in the blankets they’d purchased and burrowing against his side at night but still shivering. Even the new, warmer robes had a limited effect. The shed itself had no stove or fire, nor could it, and he eventually asked if Wei Ying would prefer they took a room at the inn in town for the rest of the winter, concerned the cold could lead to illness.

“I’ve never been good with the cold,” Wei Ying confessed. “But I had to make do with limited supplies during winters in Luanzang Gang—if we pick up some supplies in town, I should be able to make this space nice and cozy.”

Then he sneezed, and admitted a couple of nights in an inn would be welcome, as he would need time to put it all together.

When they let the Hu family know after breakfast the next morning, A-Ning insisted they take Xiao Ta with them so she could be warm at the inn, too, and Wei Ying caved quickly, tying the little creature to his chest in a sling and tucking her underneath his outer robes, so she would benefit from his body heat and be snug under his cape as well. Fortunately, the puppy no longer required as much care as she had in the first few weeks, no longer needing to be stimulated to eliminate her bladder or bowels, but she still needed regular feedings; though she could get some milk from her mother at times, she was just too much tinier than her siblings to compete. Her eyes were open now, and she was very curious and wriggly, communicating in soft puppy croons, but settled easily enough in the sling, the warmth and a full belly urging her to sleep.

Xiao Pingguo was significantly less enthused to be brought from the relative warmth of the barn, immediately trying to step on Wei Ying to express her discontent, only stopped by Lan Wangji’s quick reaction.

The trek itself wasn’t terribly unpleasant, quiet but for the wind and Wei Ying’s flute, Xiao Ta occasionally crooning along, until his hands were too cold to be outside of mittens and he tucked Chenqing away in favor of staying warm. So instead he talked the rest of the way, explaining his intended remedy for the cold, which hinged on buying six large blankets, sewing talismans for keeping cold out on one side of each, and talismans for giving off heat to the other side, to be hung from the ceiling, walls, and placed on the floor of their shed.

“Popo was delighted when I came up with them—said her old bones couldn’t handle the cold as well as they used to, and she had difficulty with arthritis anyway. I even made her some warm packs for the painful days.”

That explained how he was so confident with the Hu’s water bottle, which they had not brought with them, Lan Wangji realized, and thus would need to purchase something to keep Xiao Ta warm while they were in town. Likely Wei Ying would opt to stick to what worked and buy a new water bottle, but he was just as likely to try something experimental.

Wei Ying fell silent again, and Lan Wangji knew he was remembering the elderly woman whose blood corpse had come to protect him and Sizhui, likely facing a grief over a decade old but still fresh to him.

While the situation in Luanzang Gang had been difficult, in some ways the Wen remnants had been something of a family to him in the final years of his first life, and he could not fault him for such grief—he had so many to mourn. Lan Wangji wondered if perhaps they should at some point venture to Dafan Shan and visit the cenotaph with their remains, wondered if Wei Ying would want to burn joss for them, just in case any lingered and would appreciate such a gesture.

Lan Wangji, despite everything, had never truly learned to mourn, instead focusing on living his life doing the good that Wei Ying would have done, had he lived, and he did not know how to help him in his grief. He had found that grief was a profoundly personal thing at a young age with his mother’s death, but Wei Ying had experienced waves of loss—his parents, the Jiangs and Jiang disciples, the Wen remnants, his sister… If his own grief had been powerful enough to lead him to brand himself in a fit of mental anguish, seeking a physical pain that would rival it as well as a closeness with Wei Ying when he was gone, he didn’t know how the layers of loss affected Wei Ying.

They went to the market first, before even renting a room at the inn or boarding Xiao Pingguo at the stable, with the intent to stay in after taking advantage of the baths again and having dinner sent up. His new shoes were their first priority, followed by the components for Wei Ying’s project.

Wei Ying was particular about the blankets, not wanting anything too thin and discussing the construction with the shopkeepers, and even more particular about a large amount of cinnabar-dyed embroidery thread and a set of embroidery needles. They also purchased a basket, terrycloth, soft bedding, goat’s milk, and a water bottle for Xiao Ta’s comfort. Wei Ying discovered a shop selling little household items that had a crude but adorable little rabbit-shaped ceramic vessel with a spout as its mouth, meant for very young children and infants to suckle from.

“It might be more effective than the rags for Xiao Ta, even if it won’t be used long,” Wei Ying said, his voice distant.

The Hu family patriarch had mentioned she would start growing teeth in a few weeks, and while she could then be started on more solid foods, she was behind her siblings in growth, having been the last to open her eyes. The worry was how Wei Ying would react to her new teeth.

“And anyway, we can hang onto it after and add it to your bunny collection,” he added with a smile, as though the collection didn’t live in a qiankun pouch and wasn’t mostly added to by Wei Ying himself.

When they reached the inn, Wei Ying took their purchases up to room once Lan Wangji rented it for the night, eager to feed Xiao Ta, while he stabled Xiao Pingguo, leaving apples to the stableboy for her, with permission to have one as well. The youth’s surprised grin, briefly thrilled, as though they both didn’t know full well the boy would have had one regardless, reminded him oddly of Wei Ying. If he had not been found by Jiang Fengmian, might he have eventually been able to find such work and lived a normal mundane life, never to meet Lan Wangji but without the tragedies that he’d endured? An unsettling idea for reasons he can’t explain even to himself.

On his way to the room, he stopped the owner and arranged for their dinner be sent up, early but necessary for the half shichen needed between a meal and a bath, choosing several spicy dishes for Wei Ying as well as ones that would suit his own palate.

Lan Wangji found him sitting near a low table, holding Xiao Ta gently as she successfully suckled at the spout, grinning and practically humming with excitement.

“Lan Zhan, I think she‘ll be able to drink more this way, look!”

The Hus were concerned about whether the runtling was able to intake enough through the rag, always seeming more satiated when she was able to suckle from her mother, and Wei Ying had fretted about it, attached now to Xiao Ta in a way Lan Wangji suspected would never hold true for any other dog.

He also knew the big test would come when Xiao Ta’s teeth came in, as puppies could bite at that point on, and that Wei Ying was treating this task with the sort of seriousness he applied to things he cared about, sometimes testing himself by letting the little runt suckle and gum at his fingers, occasionally pulling them away when it became too much. Lan Wangji could see the fondness and protectiveness he displayed toward Xiao Ta, the sort one would give a baby animal, but she was a dog, and this was progress enough for him to have faith that Wei Ying could be ready when it came, and he would support the attempt regardless of the outcome.

The food was delivered as the puppy settled to take a short post-meal nap wrapped in one of several short bolts of soft terrycloth they’d bought at the market, along with tea for himself and wine for Wei Ying.

Wei Ying spoke through the meal, of course—Lan Wangji had long ago stopped expecting anything else, and Wei Ying never pressured him to speak—alighting on different points of interest, from characters to remember to teach the Hu family based on their time in the market, to his plans for the assorted supplies he had gotten. He intended to put the water bottle in the basket with soft bedding above, then the terrycloth with Xiao Ta, so any mess would be on the terrycloth, easily switched out and washed. The walls of the basket would still be high enough that she would have a challenge wriggling her way out if she woke while they were bathing.

“And the basket handle will make it easier to carry her while we travel,” Wei Ying chirped, then added, “back to the Hu farm, I mean.”

He wondered if the slip meant anything, if Wei Ying had started imagining the puppy with them on their travels. Lan Wangji wouldn’t mind it, of the opinion that Wei Ying should have everything he wanted in this life.

Wei Ying put his plans into motion after they finished their meal, though he occasionally picked at the remains as he worked, letting Xiao Ta wriggle around on the terrycloth, occasionally shifting her to a new direction when necessary or letting her nuzzle at his fingers in a sort of play. By the time the bed was ready, a replacement of the terrycloth was needed as well, and Lan Wangji set the soiled one aside to have cleaned with some of their laundry. Wei Ying settled Xiao Ta in her new bed, the pup worn out after eating and playing, and they gathered a change of clothing before heading to the baths.

The post-bath routine was similar to their last stay, Wei Ying permitting him to comb his hair with his own sandalwood-scented oils after the tangles frustrated him, but it was early yet.

With the aid of lighting talismans as daylight waned, Wei Ying showed Lan Wangji the talismans he had invented toward the end of his first life, in Luanzang Gang, to protect the elderly refugees from the cold in winter, deceptively simple and brilliant. On the side to face outside, a barrier to cold, while on the inside, a talisman that would radiate warmth, working in tandem to keep a space warm, something that could have many applications.

“It’d work on buildings if I modified it, but sometimes you don’t want to keep out cold or have a space be warm, though if I worked at it I could design those as well,” Wei Ying said when he asked. “They’re just kind of intricate and better on certain materials, which is why I was asking the shopkeeper all those questions about the blankets.”

Lan Wangji was not adept with talismans, having chosen to focus on musical cultivation instead, and so could only listen to Wei Ying and ask questions to gain understanding of his ideas, but that never seemed to bother his companion, who insisted that outside perspectives helped him think.

What threw him was the fact that Wei Ying intended to embroider the talismans on the blankets with the cinnabar embroidery thread, not because he didn’t know it was possible—the Lan clan robes were embroidered with protective enchantments—but because he hadn’t known embroidery was one of Wei Ying’s skills.

When he said as much, Wei Ying laughed and explained that Jiang Yanli taught him, long ago when he was recovering from an injury and bored, to try to help pass the days until he had healed, his voice tinged with nostalgia. Though he hadn’t used it much except for mending his clothing, he had taken it up again while exiled in Luanzang Gang with the Wen remnants, using it to help with his research and inventions mostly, though Popo had given him clothing to embroider when Wen Qing insisted he take a rest.

For the moment, the memories did not seem to cause him pain, and Lan Wangji was content to listen to him ramble, watching him deftly thread the needle and start on the first talisman, about how the medium had not worked well with the Zhao Yinqi, and so he had determined that paint or blood was more effective for more complex talismans, though embroidery gave more permanence.

Lan Wangji let Wei Ying’s voice wash over him as he composed a letter to Lan Xichen to update him on his travels, pausing to ask questions at times. A letter from his brother had been left in place of the remnants of dinner. When they decided to stay in the area for a time, he had let his brother know to send correspondence to the inn. Unsurprisingly, he had also sent a pouch of tael to spend on their journey, which he had to admit was welcome after having purchased a small wardrobe for Wei Ying.

He transferred the contents of the pouch to his purse, still the one that had held herbs from Luo Qingyang all those years ago in the Xuanwu cave, which he had jealously stolen. Perfume sachets were courting gifts, and there had been a possessive part of him that had made him act then. Lan Wangji had tempered that tendency over the years Wei Ying was gone, but he still kept the purse.

Wei Ying was focused on his embroidery, and Lan Wangji could see characters meant to keep cold out on the talisman he was working on, privately awed by his ingenuity. Many mundane people, especially those of few means such as farmers, would benefit greatly from such an invention, as there were often deaths during cold snaps, those unfortunate who could not keep warm enough. Were these talismans, even paper that could be adhered to walls, produced for the masses, it would save lives and add comfort to many more.

“The talismans use ambient resentful energy, so they worked pretty well in Luanzang Gang; I’m sure they’ll work just as well outside, and prevent local problems since they siphon off resentment.”

His fingers, deftly handling the needle, paused.

“I’m sure I could rework the talismans to use ambient spiritual energy, though.”

Wei Ying wasn’t quite looking at him, and Lan Wangji realized with a pang that he was expecting condemnation, something he had so often given him without meaning to in his previous life.

“No need,” he said after a moment. “Wei Ying’s ideas are sound.”

His ideas were of course unorthodox, but Lan Wangji had decided through painstaking reflection in the years of Wei Ying’s death that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—were not multiple sects shamelessly using his inventions because they were brilliant and useful, even as they condemned him for having created them? If these siphoned resentment and transformed it, how could they be bad? He didn’t know how to say these things, knowing there was no use in his years of regret with Wei Ying sitting here in the warmth of the inn with him.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, you really are too much sometimes,” Wei Ying finally said after a moment, returning to his embroidery.

But he seemed more settled than he had before, more at ease as he worked.

Wei Ying worked quickly, pausing only to give Xiao Ta more milk when she woke and started whimpering, but he paused and stretched once the pup was asleep again, blinking ruefully at the lighting talismans that were no longer enough light, clearly in need of a break.

“The night market?” Lan Wangji suggested.

The town was small and winter meant the night market was even smaller than it normally was, but it was a distraction he was certain Wei Ying would appreciate.

He brought out the package of new shoes for Wei Ying, both slippers to be used for indoors, which he didn’t have, and boots for traveling, as Wei Ying’s were worn out. Wei Ying laughed quietly at some unknown amusement as he changed into the boots.

“They’ll take some time to break in properly, but they fit well, so hopefully they won’t cause sore feet,” Wei Ying said once he had them on.

As they left the inn, Xiao Ta in her basket in tow,he launched into a short tale how the first shoes Jiang Fengmian had gotten him had been too big and he worried about being a bother despite his sore feet, so Jiang Yanli had ensured his shoes fit once she discovered it and thereafter.

“My feet were smaller than Jiang Cheng’s, and he’d assumed we were the same size because we were the same age,” Wei Ying finished.

The memory seemed as though it was positive to Wei Ying, but all Lan Wangji could wonder was how a man with children could possibly make that assumption, and what shopkeeper would allow him to put ill-fitting shoes on a child. So many of his memories seemed tinged by neglect.

“Mn,” he settled on, not quite sure how to reply.

“Shijie sorted it out in the end,” Wei Ying said softly. “She was the best.”

Lan Wangj knew the flavors of Wei Ying’s grief, knew her death had broken him at Buyetian Cheng, knew he had unfairly burdened him at the end of his first life with his inappropriate feelings, only adding the the maelstrom that led to the First Siege of Luanzang Gang. To so much more of his grief. He had resolved to never burden him so again.

The night market consisted of booths of street food and low-level luxury goods like lanterns or small paintings, nothing so big as a larger town would host, but vibrant in its own way. Wei Ying managed to find two handmade bunny masks, one black and one white, and Lan Wangji immediately drew out his money pouch to pay for them—for although his zhiji was the one to add to their collection, he was happy to enable him.

After he ensured Wei Ying had some warming snacks from the market, in particular a large bag of tang chao lizi and another of dong shizi, they returned to the warmth of the inn. The dong shizi he used a stasis talisman on, one he had apparently invented in Luanzang Gang to preserve food, to keep them fresh.

Xiao Ta was hungry again, and suckled easily from rabbit vessel, and while she sated herself Wei Ying worked further on his talisman embroidery. Lan Wangji took over her care, petting and allowing her to wrestle with his hand, to allow him to work. It was wonderfully domestic, uplifting that he could be with Wei Ying in this capacity.

Before long the puppy was asleep and tucked into her basket. Lan Wangji waited until Wei Ying finished a part of the talisman, the light too low and the hour past hai shi, before gently bullying him to ready for sleep, reluctantly taking the other bed himself. He knew his zhiji would likely be restless before settling, but he tried to help him avoid staying up all night working on projects. He fully expected Wei Ying would get back up and eat some of the snacks from the market and drink the wine Lan Wangji had set out for him from the innkeeper’s stock, but he expected having access to an actual bed to be something of a luxury, one he should enjoy.

“See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan,” followed him into sleep.

Instead, Lan Wangji woke long before mao shi, confused momentarily as to why until he realized across the room Wei Ying was thrashing in his sleep, his breath like choked-off screams, in the throes of a nightmare.

Wei Ying woke when he called out to him, sitting up panting in the bed, and Lan Wangji rushed to his side.

“Just—Just a nightmare,” Wei Ying murmured, clearly trying to dismiss it. “I wish it hadn’t woken you.”

Lan Wangji had never known him to have nightmares, but when he said so, Wei Ying laughed hollowly.

“It’s better when we share a bed, but I need to get used to them; you’ll need to return to Gusu eventually, and I know you don’t like touch. You’ve been very tolerant of me.”

Cosleeping had helped, and yet Wei Ying felt he was a burden while Lan Wangji had felt selfish for enjoying it secretly.

“It is no burden, not with you,” he murmured.

Wei Ying looked up at him, his expression captivatingly his even on a different face, his essence in a new form, and Lan Wangji didn’t want to look away. He struggled for words, his words so often having the opposite his intended impact.

“Were it my decision, I would not be separated from you again,” he managed after a moment. “I am selfish in this.”

“You said…” Wei Ying started, then broke off as though trying to find the words. “When you drank, when you told me you like rabbits, you said you had regrets. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me for anything. You don’t owe me anything from the past, Lan Zhan.”

“The past is past,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “The present is now. I know what it is to be without you, and I wish to be with you.”

There was a long and pregnant pause, Wei Ying looking up at him, so much shorter now, his eyes shimmering in the sparse light of the moon coming in from the closed shutters.

“Lan Zhan… I might get the wrong idea.”

Lan Wangji shook his head, a bit confused by what the wrong idea could be, aside from…

“I would not burden you again.”

Wei Ying tilted his head, his expression concerned.

“Burden me? Lan Zhan, when did you burden me?”

Did he not recall? Lan Wangji was hesitant to remind him, but he seemed so earnestly confused. And he had made a vow to himself to stay by Wei Ying’s side in all things, something dishonesty by omission didn’t allow.

“After Buyetian Cheng, when I returned you to Luanzang Gang…”

“After?” Wei Ying interrupted. “You’re how I got back to Luanzang Gang? Lan Zhan, I don’t remember anything from that time—is that why you were punished?”

He reached forward as though to touch his shoulder, where a particularly viscious lash had sliced the flesh and scarred over.

Lan Wangji’s world spun a little—he’d assumed Wei Ying knew, that it had been only another weight that had carried him to his death. Hope stirred.

“Lan Zhan, nothing you could say would be a burden to me,” Wei Ying said, finally gripping his arm. “Nothing.”

With Wei Ying’s touch, Lan Wangji felt emboldened, and the words spilled out.

“I love you. I have loved you since our blades crossed under the moon at Yunshen Buzhichu, when we first met.”

Wei Ying let out an indecipherable noise, and Lan Wangji braced himself.

“All that time?” he whispered. “I thought you hated me.”

His breath came out in a rush. Too many had believed that, but it had never been true, and it rankled him that Wei Ying believed it. Perhaps that was the real burden he had carried to his death, and Lan Wangji would need to be better with his words in the future.

But Wei Ying didn’t seem bothered by his confession.

“Never. Could never hate Wei Ying. I… have difficulty with words. But I have always felt thus.”

Before he could react, Wei Ying threw himself into his lap, clinging to him like a limpet.

“Lan Zhan! You’re really great. I like you, or in other words, I fancy you, I love you, I want you, I can’t leave you, I whatever you. I want to night-hunt with you for the rest of my life. I don’t want anyone but you—it can’t be anyone but you—”

Lan Wangji could only helplessly repeat the sentiments, too overwhelmed to find words himself, though he allowed himself to indulge in tipping Wei Ying’s face up for kisses between them. He had kissed him once, long ago, in a dark moment, but this was reciprocated and made his heart sing.

Before long, he pressed Wei Ying against the mattress and they were otherwise occupied for some time.

He would wake past mao shi, tangled with Wei Ying, filled with joy at what the future could now bring.

It would take several days for Wei Ying to finish his project, as distracted as they too easily became, and for the rest of the winter they spent the days helping at the Hu farm and teaching the family, and the nights passionately learning each other, snug in the shed with Wei Ying’s ingenious talismans.

Spring would find them headed to Yunmeng, a gifted (though Lan Wangji left some tael in exchange) Xiao Ta sometimes snuggled in a saddlebag on Xiao Pingguo, sometimes prancing around following her. She was intended as a gift for Jiang Wanyin, Wei Ying hoping to draw him out of seclusion and mend their relationship with the gift of the only dog he wasn’t afraid of.

And if they completed their bows along the way, that was just one more thing for Lan Wangji to appreciate, making Wei Ying officially his husband.

—————

Finally complete! I hope this is everything rymyanna hoped for. Sorry it took so long to finish it.

Writing has been delayed by getting my gallbladder removed and a subsequent infection, both of which led to hospital stays. I’m okay now—home health nurse checking in and everything. It was my first time staying in the hospital! I actually got sick on my birthday.

bai qui ji = whole poached chicken

Buyetian Cheng = Nightless City

dong shizhi = frozen persimmons

hai shi = 9pm, Lan bedtime

hongdan = dyed red eggs

Luanzang Gang = Burial Mounds

sau mein = longevity noodles

shoutao = peach buns

tang chao lizi = sugar roasted chestnuts

tangyuan = sweet rice balls

tudou si = stir-fried shredded potatoes

Xiao Pingguo = Little Apple

Xiao Ta = Little Otter

Yunshen Buzhichu = Cloud Recesses

Zhao Yinqi = attraction flag

[ruanbaijie]

During the Republican Era, Shen Zhiheng, a member of the Tianjin gentry who happened to be a vampire, offended the Japanese and became the target of an assassination attempt. He was saved by a blind young lady, Mi Lan, and his best friend Situ Weilian. When he went to repay Mi Lan for saving him, he discovered the terrible family situation that Mi Lan was in, and so began to pay more attention to her. Meanwhile, Shen Zhiheng’s plan to take revenge on Li Yingliang, the mastermind behind his assassination, fell short of success thanks to Li Yingliang’s Japanese superior, raising suspicions about his identity. Since then, Li Yingliang and the Japanese were in hot pursuit of Shen Zhiheng, determined to dig out the truth about his secret.

Please do not repost this anywhere else or retranslate it!

MAIN DIRECTORY ☾ READ ON AO3 ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Li Yingliang walked through the main doors of the Development Committee. The second he entered the yard, it became quiet, and the people in the rooms could vaguely make out how poor his complexion was through the frosted window panes. Li Guisheng, who was still loafing around in the General Affairs Section, opened the door to welcome him, “Sir.”

Without even glancing at him, Li Yingliang only hooked a finger at him when he passed. Li Guisheng quickly followed him into the chairman's office. He took Li Yingliang’s coat from him and hung it on the clothes stand, and then picked up the teapot and walked towards the door, intending to boil a pot of tea for him.

However, Li Yingliang suddenly spoke, “Stay there.”

He immediately stood upright as he held the pot. “Sir, what orders do you have?”

Li Yingliang sat down behind his desk, the back of his head nestling against the back of his chair. “How do you get things done?”

Li Guisheng was startled. “What have I done?”

Li Yingliang’s face was devoid of any expression; all of his energy had gone to his mouth. One word at a time, his mouth spat out, “Shen Zhiheng is not dead!”

Li Guisheng placed the pot down on the desk, standing rigid with his hands by his side. He said with conviction, “Sir, I, Li Guisheng, swear to you here and now, if he didn’t die, I’ll twist my head off and give it to him to kick around like a ball. I cannot say that I’ve never lied to anyone, but I dare to say that I’ve never lied to you.”

Li Yingliang lowered his voice, yet it was still vicious, as if he wanted to spit the words angrily at Li Guisheng’s face, “Then why did someone say that they saw him at the French concession zone yesterday? Even Yokoyama Akira knows! This morning, Yokoyama called me over and pointed to my nose to question what was going on. I couldn’t give him a single fucking reply. What’s going on, what’s going on, you tell me now, what on earth is going on!”

Li Guisheng swallowed, somewhat nervous, but because he was still confident, he still dared to reply, “Sir, I’ll still say the same thing. I dare to use my own life to swear that if Shen Zhiheng didn’t die, then I will!” 

The office became quiet. Li Yingliang’s body slid down, nestled in his chair as he pondered. His eyeballs moved around, occasionally sweeping across Li Guisheng. Li Guisheng stiffened his neck and stood ramrod straight. Because he felt simply too wronged, he refused to submit, his spirit seeming so strong and invincible it was as if it could support both heaven and earth.

A good while later, Li Yingliang said, “I know. There’s no need for you to lie to me. But Yokoyama’s subordinate really saw Shen Zhiheng alive.”

Li Guisheng suddenly asked, “A body double?”

“Is there a need for that?”

“We think there isn’t, but what if that one surnamed Shen [1] has another identity? Think about it, if no one has his back, will he dare to openly scold the Japanese in the newspapers? Maybe, the people above him want to use his reputation to continue running the newspaper companies, so that they can continue clashing with the Japanese.”

Li Yingliang frowned, feeling that Li Guisheng was wrong. But, even so, it could not explain how Shen Zhiheng could have returned from the dead. Pursing his lips, he remained silent for a while. When he was done, he unpuckered his lips, and said, “Send someone to go and find Shen Zhiheng now.”

Li Guisheng agreed, picking up the teapot and leaving the room, before returning with a pot of hot tea. Li Yingliang was still nestled in his chair, seemingly still in a trance, when the phone rang. With his mind still wandering, he made no move to pick up the phone. So, Li Guisheng thought for a moment, and reached out to pick it up.

“Chairman Li’s office.”

After a few “mm”s, he covered the receiver, and said softly to Li Yingliang, “It’s Second Young Mistress Jin. She says she wants to speak to you at once.”

Li Yingliang froze, only reaching out for the phone after more than half a minute, “Hello? Second Young Mistress Jin? I’m Yingliang.”

After saying that, the corners of his lips pulled upwards as he subconsciously smiled. It was a forced, tired smile, as if he could perfunctorily brush this entire phone call off his shoulder by just smiling. 

“Oh… thank you for your kind intentions, Second Young Mistress, but I don’t think I’m suitable. I don’t know how to dance at all. Why not find a fellow male student to attend it together with? You might even find common topics to talk about… No, no, I don’t mean it that way, I don’t dare to. I can be your driver, just tell me the time and I will fetch you there, and then fetch you back… No, no, I really don’t mean it that way… Okay then, I will just listen to you then… Okay, okay, I know, wear a suit, understood, farewell, see you tonight.”

The smile was still on his face as he put the phone down, but the second the phone line got cut, the smile instantly disappeared. He returned back to nestling in his chair, his face impassive as his lips quivered, and silently cursed.

The one who had called was the second young mistress of the Jin family, a woman he could not afford to offend. Of course, a woman he could not afford to offend for now .

Li Yingliang’s parents had passed away early, and so too had his younger sister at a tender age. He could practically be considered an orphan, and an impoverished one at that. For a child who had been dealt with such a bitter hand of fate, logically speaking, it would be considered quite a success for him to have been able to survive and grow up. And the benefactor who had plucked him out of poverty to become a person, who had given him the chance to continue climbing, was Second Young Mistress Jin’s father, Division Commander Jin.

When Li Yingliang had first gotten to know Division Commander Jin, he was the young apprentice in a tailor shop, where he had spent his days getting bullied by his master and seniors. It was purely through his pure grit to endure the humiliation and stay alive, that he had managed to persist until the day the second wife of the Jin family visited their tailor shop. At that time, the second wife had been in favour and would frequently purchase new clothes, and had taken great care of the tailor shop’s business. As a good-looking young apprentice, Li Yingliang often had to follow his seniors to the Jin residence to collect materials and deliver clothes, and over time, the second wife had taken a liking to him and decided that he was a clever little child. Coincidentally, that day, when he had arrived at the Jin residence, he had bumped into a terribly drunk Division Commander Jin. Division Commander Jin had noticed that he was a spirited, handsome little boy, and had expressed with much emotion in his drunken stupor that it was really quite a pity that this child was doing odd jobs in a tailor shop.

Upon hearing this, the second wife had jokingly added, “Then adopt him as your godson and give him a chance to grow, then it wouldn’t be such a pity anymore.”

Division Commander Jin had burped and was just about to reply when he had suddenly heard a thud by his feet. Lowering his head to have a look, he had seen Li Yingliang kneeling and kowtowing to him. Division Commander Jin was shocked, but as he had already received someone else’s kowtows, it was too late for regret, and he had no choice but to accept this godson in confusion. Since then, Li Yingliang had a change in family status, leaving the bitter life at the tailor shop behind to run errands for the Jin residence. 

However, the Jin residence was no paradise. Division Commander Jin’s family had a whole string of children, and no matter their age, they all dared to bully him. He had gritted his teeth, in any case, he had already gotten used to it. Besides, the young masters of the Jin family were bratty and mischievous at worst, unlike the cruel jerks at the tailor shop. He had endured until he was in his teens, at which point he had started to run errands by Division Commander Jin’s side. Division Commander Jin also secretly had a lot of activities that could not see the light of day. For instance, he constantly collaborated with the Japanese, and also resold tobacco. Had these activities been exposed, Division Commander Jin would not have been able to escape being labelled as a Chinese traitor. Hence, he could not simply assign anyone to run these errands, and could only hand them to his godson Li Yingliang.   

Li Yingliang was very self-motivated, and besides his capabilities, he was willing to put in effort and get things done without a sound of protest. The more he did, the more he carved out a world for himself - the position of chairman was not something his godfather had bestowed upon him, but something he had fought for and gained by his own hands from Yokoyama Akira.

In recent years, Division Commander Jin had been overly cautious and indecisive, wanting to profit and afraid to be a Chinese traitor at the same time, and this indecisiveness had long already eroded the trust that the Japanese had once had in him. Neither did Li Yingliang have the patience to continue running personal errands for him. He did not care if he had to be a Chinese traitor, in order to stand out from the crowd, he did not mind recognising another person as his godfather. It was a pity that Yokoyama Akira was a little too young, if not, he would also kowtow a few times to him.

Although Division Commander Jin - now, people called him “General Jin” out of respect - was stationed with his army in the Recha area [2] and not physically with him, and although he now no longer needed to rely on the old man for money, their father-son relationship still remained. Whenever Second Young Mistress Jin came to disturb him every three days, ordering him around to do all sorts of things like a servant and annoying him to death, for the sake of his godfather, he made use of the strength he had honed over his childhood and “endured” it. 

In the afternoon, Li Yingliang left the Development Committee by the back door, cutting across the alleys to enter a small yard. This yard was quite clean, and had only four or five rooms. This was his house.

As a bachelor, he had no servants at home. Besides, the work he did was top secret, and he did not hire any servants. If he required any help, he would call a few people from the Development Committee over to help. Using hot water to clean his face, he combed his hair and changed into a fresh suit, tidying himself up cleanly as if he were fulfilling a duty. As a finishing touch, he tucked a purple handkerchief into his small breast pocket, and walked to the mirror to have a look.

He was emotionless as he looked at himself in the mirror, without any interest whatsoever in admiring himself. He had to accompany the second young mistress Jin to a dance party at night, and so he had to dress up. It was just like if he had to visit the army at night, and he had to change into his uniform - both necessitated that he dress up according to the rules.  

Another point, was that clothes make a man. Whenever he was in such bustling occasions of feasting and revelry, he could never quite hold his head proudly. If he did not dress up to the nines, like a soldier in his armour ready for battle, he would be even more ashamed. Second Young Mistress Jin’s words were like knives, they would definitely have no mercy on him.

After dressing himself up impeccably, Li Yingliang left, cutting across the alleys again to return to the Development Committee. From there, he continued across the yard to the car outside the Development Committee, and went straight to the Jin mansion.

All was silent outside the Jin mansion.

The car stopped outside the main gate, and Li Yingliang remained in it with no intention to alight. However, an attendant heard him and invited him into the house, informing him that Second Young Mistress Jin had invited Young Master Liang to wait in the parlour. Upon hearing the three words “Young Master Liang”, Li Yingliang expelled two streams of cold air from his nose at once, feeling like the victim of mockery. How could he be considered a young master? Who really respected him like a young master?

Alighting from the car, he entered the house with big strides and marched into the parlour in a breath. In the parlour stood only a maidservant. Composing himself, he tried to put on a good face in front of the maidservant, without much success.

“Where is Second Young Mistress?”

“She is upstairs,” the maidservant replied.

“Then call her down.”

The maidservant laughed. “Second Young Mistress is still freshening up. She said to let you wait a little while longer. You can wait here or upstairs.”

With an “mm”, Li Yingliang plonked his buttocks onto the sofa. This instruction of hers had raised his ire - she had a hobby of pretending to make things difficult for him, as if it was an addiction. Wait upstairs? He wouldn’t fall into her trap. If he really went upstairs, she would definitely pull out another basket of prattle and nonsense to beat him with, and would conveniently order him to pick her clothes and shoes for her. In any case, he knew that he had no other way of dealing with her, and no matter how she annoyed him, he would have to bear with it. Other than that, she would also frequently expose her pale thighs and feet to provoke a reaction out of him, as if he had never seen a woman before in his entire life and his heart would definitely be swayed by her. 

Li Yingliang never thought about the affairs between men and women. He busied himself only with gaining more influence and strength, and had no time or effort to think about it. In the occasional times that he did, it was from a pragmatic perspective. He wanted to climb high and marry a wealthy young lady. However, even so, he refused to even consider Second Young Mistress Jin. Since they were young, she loved to bully him, and one glance at her would make him angry.

  After sitting idly in the parlour for more than an hour, Second Young Mistress Jin finally descended the stairs.

Second Young Mistress Jin’s name was Jingxue [3] . She was not yet twenty years of age, was beautiful and fair, and could be said to have both money and looks. When she stepped into the parlour in her high heels, Li Yingliang stood up, his eyes sweeping over her. Yet, he did not sweep carefully, only noticing the large snowy white circle of fur around her shoulders, from which her long, equally snowy white neck extended. Her shoulders and collar bones were exposed, and her skin was powdered, shining and fragrant at the same time. 

“Second Young Mistress,” Li Yingliang bowed to her. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, I thought that you had gone home.”

Jin Jingxue tittered, “Liang-gege, even your mannerisms seem like the Japanese now, bowing first when you meet people.”

Li Yingliang lowered his head, looking at the ground, “Second Young Mistress, I’m only trying to eke out a living for myself. Please have a heart and stop teasing me with your words.”

Jin Jingxue’s eyebrows, in the shape of willow leaves, frowned. “Oh, you’re angry? Who did you learn to be this petty from? Could it be the Japanese?”

Li Yingliang snorted once in laughter. “You’re very funny.” Then, he took the lead and walked out of the parlour first. “It’s getting late, let’s go!”

“Slow down!” Jin Jingxue said.

Li Yingliang turned around. “What now?”

Jin Jingxue extended a hand towards him. “My heels are high. Come and support me.”

Li Yingliang cast his gaze down, only seeing now that Jin Jingxue was wearing a pair of glittery gold dancing shoes. Their heels were high and thin, and they were suitable to be worn only on spring flooring and to spin around in small circles. Walking in them would be to suffer.

So, as if he were waiting on Empress Dowager Cixi [4] , he wordlessly extended his arm and supported Jin Jingxue out of the door, all the way to the car, where he sneezed from the smell of her perfume. This sneeze came unexpectedly and he had no time to grab his handkerchief, and he ended up sneezing his saliva all over Jin Jingxue’s shoulder. After receiving a few rolled eyes from her, he wiped her shoulder with his handkerchief to shut her up. He turned his head to look out of the window, his eyes red with anger.

Secretary Ding of the committee drove the car, sending Li Yingliang and Jin Jingxue to Jinghua Hotel. Originally, Li Yingliang had thought that the hosts were Jin Jingxue’s good-for-nothing friends. However, it was only when he alighted at the entrance of the hotel when he realised that tonight’s occasion was a grand one. There was no end to the line of cars stopped along the road, among which were a few that bore the license plates of foreign consulates. Through the glass doors of the hotel, he could see that it was brightly lit on the side, and he even noticed General Mi.

He immediately became more spirited, as if he had spotted his quarry. Once he had gotten excited, even Jin Jingxue did not seem as irritating anymore. Pulling Jin Jingxue along with him, he entered the doors, the two of them separating at the gentlemen’s and ladies’ cloak rooms respectively to remove their coats and hats. In the ladies’ cloak room, Jin Jingxue conveniently looked at herself in the mirror, adjusted her hair, and spun around to leave. She discovered that Li Yingliang had long been waiting a distance ahead. In this bustling place adorned with splendour, all the guests were smiling and laughing, and only he was standing alone, concentrating on waiting with neither posture nor expression.

“Liang-gege!” she called out.

As if waking up from a dream, he turned his head, and sent her a fake smile. Jin Jingxue walked to him, holding her head high as she displayed her new gingko-coloured dress to him.

“Liang-gege, what do you think about my dress?”

Li Yingliang swept his gaze over her, again not sweeping carefully. He just thought that she was very shiny - her exposed chest, back, and shoulders were shiny, her gingko-coloured dress, embellished with pearls, was also shiny.

“Nice,” he replied.

“Just ‘nice’?”

Suddenly a little impatient, his way of resisting was to keep a straight face and reply with conviction, “Yes. Just ‘nice’.”

Jin Jingxue rolled her eyes at him, using her pointer to poke him repeatedly at his chest. “I know what you’re thinking, you pretend to obey me on the outside but are actually scolding me on the inside! But the skin of my face is thick [5] and I’m not afraid of getting scolded. The more you smile fakely at me, the more I want you to dance together with me for the whole night.”

Li Yingliang took a step back. “That won’t work, no, no, Second Young Mistress, please spare me. I really can’t dance.”

“Even if you can’t, it doesn’t matter, I’ll teach you. Whenever you step on me, I’ll pinch you. After getting pinched for the whole night, you’ll definitely learn how to dance.”

Li Yingliang smiled bitterly at her, while shaking his head with an imploring look on his face. Although this smile was bitter, it was a genuine one, and was more pleasing to the eye than his fake smiles. So, Jin Jingxue decided to spare him this one time, extending a hand to pull him to the grand hall on the first floor.

Jin Jingxue’s permanent residence was in Tianjin. She had no job other than to play around. She played around so much that she had friends from everywhere. The second she entered the grand hall, she was swarmed by a group of men and women. Li Yingliang made use of the opportunity to slip away from the crowd, intending to find General Mi and greet him. Because General Mi was famous for loving those of the opposite sex, Li Yingliang craned his neck, looking around particularly at groups of women. It was when he was looking around when there was a commotion at the entrance of the hall. Another distinguished guest had arrived. Li Yingliang turned around, and then froze on the spot.

He thought that he had seen Shen Zhiheng.

A small group of people had entered the hall, and in the centre of this group were two people. One of them had blond hair and blue eyes, dressed to the nines in a suit, this was the French director of the French Concession Zone Municipal Council, Fauré. The other was tall and thin, dressed in a deep blue changpao [6] with faint patterns. His short, crow black hair was styled with a significant amount of wax, enough to reflect the lights - if this was not Shen Zhiheng, who else could it be?

Li Yingliang absolutely trusted Li Guisheng, but he also absolutely trusted his own eyes. Besides, a pot-bellied man had already gone forth to welcome the two of them, “Mr. Fauré, Mr. Shen! Welcome, welcome!”

The Frenchman Mr. Fauré and the pot-bellied man shook hands, then, the latter turned towards Shen Zhiheng. Shen Zhiheng held half a cigar in one hand, and shook the pot-bellied man’s hand with his other. Li Yingliang recognised the pot-bellied man. He was the general manager of the Greater China Shipping Company. He also vaguely heard Shen Zhiheng’s voice - he had called the pot-bellied man “General Manager Wu”, followed by a string of unintelligible niceties.

Li Yingliang’s eyes recognised Shen Zhiheng’s appearance, and his ears also recognised Shen Zhiheng’s voice. His voice was deep and husky, a little unique; it was a good voice among men. And as Shen Zhiheng held General Manager Wu’s hand, he smiled and lifted his head at the same time, and without any warning, glanced at Li Yingliang who was in the middle of the crowd.

Li Yingliang was still looking at him in a daze. He wanted to hide, but it was too late. Shen Zhiheng was much thinner compared to before, and his complexion seemed dull. With a smile, he looked at Li Yingliang, and slowly blinked once. However, without waiting for Li Yingliang to understand the look in his eyes, he had already let go of General Manager Wu, turning his head to chat with the people beside him. Before long, this small group of people had turned around and left the hall, heading up to the second floor.

Li Yingliang stood unmoving, only two words echoing in his head in tandem with the beating of his heart, reverberating continuously, “Body double, body double, body double…”

Only the two words “body double” could explain everything. Otherwise, wasn’t it that he had just seen a ghost?

Li Yingliang did not believe in ghosts, and so he did not believe that he had seen a ghost. Since he had not seen a ghost, and since Li Guisheng would never be such a piece of rubbish to not know if he had managed to kill a person or not, then only one point made sense: this Shen Zhiheng was fake!

Li Yingliang needed to get closer to observe this fake product and find his weak point, or he would not be able to sleep tonight. The three floors of Jinghua Hotel had been booked, and all of them were bustling, full of partying people dressed to their nines. He had long abandoned Jin Jingxue, going up and down each of the floors, but still unable to find a single trace of Shen Zhiheng and his group.

His entire body was drenched with sweat. Just as he was starting to get anxious, music started playing from the nearby dance floor. As the music swelled, his anxiety multiplied. Adjusting the knot of his tie, he walked around randomly in panic, turning around the corner of a corridor on the second floor and into the washroom. As soon as he closed the door, his ears were finally treated with some peaceful quiet. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, composing himself.

Since he was here, he conveniently took a leak. Turning the large gold-plated tap, he washed his hands, and looked into the mirror. With a wet napkin, he patted his face, and exercised his jaw. It was fortunate that he had looked at his reflection in the mirror. If not, he would not have realised he was so nervous that he was grinding his teeth, his expression frightening. He was already unpopular enough, if he was any more frightening, it would be even more unthinkable.

Taking in a few deep breaths, he steeled himself to draw upon the spirit of a raging bull and search to the ends of earth; not finding Shen Zhiheng tonight was not an option. Pulling the door open, he strode out confidently, lifted his head, and saw Shen Zhiheng’s back.

One look was enough for him to recognise that back as Shen Zhiheng’s. The event that was being held tonight was a dancing one. Normally, guests would dress up in Western attire, and very few would wear a changpao. With his back to Li Yingliang, Shen Zhiheng was smoking his cigar while gazing absentmindedly at the people who were dancing on the dance floor.

Li Yingliang tiptoed towards him, the soles of his leather shoes sinking into the thick carpet, making not a single sound. The closer he got, the more he felt that this person really resembled Shen Zhiheng. With one hand behind his back and the other pinching a cigar, this posture was one that Shen Zhiheng frequently held. Just what important figure was Shen Zhiheng, that he had secretly kept a body double who resembled him so closely?

Unable to help himself, he got closer and closer, and just when he felt that he had gotten a little too close, Shen Zhiheng inhaled deeply through his cigar, and then turned around in one smooth move to face him.

Shen Zhiheng was taller than him by half a head, and naturally had to look down at him. With his mouth full of smoke, he exhaled, the smoke seemingly emerging from all seven orifices of his face [7] . Then, he opened his mouth, his tone relatively amiable, “Chairman Li.”

His face full of cigar smoke, Li Yingliang coughed, taking a step backwards - Shen Zhiheng had turned around without any warning, and if he did not take a step back, he would be plastered right against him.

He arranged a smile on his face, answering, “Mr. Shen.”

Then, he added, “We haven’t met in a while. It must be more than a month.”

Shen Zhiheng stared at him directly in the eye. “I had fallen ill.”

 “Oh,” he feigned surprise. “What illness? Was it serious?”

Shen Zhiheng sighed softly, “Very serious. I almost died.”

Then, he inhaled through his cigar again, nodding seriously at Li Yingliang, as if he wanted to emphasise the authenticity of what he had just said.

Behind the smoke, his eyes were dark. With his eyes as the centre, it seemed as if there was a pale black smoke spreading outwards. He truly had a sickly appearance; his face had thinned so much it was narrow. Yet, his red [8] lips were full of colour, and were now opening and closing in front of Li Yingliang, alternating between speaking and smoking his cigar.

Feeling that his lips were quite unpleasant to look at, he shifted his gaze to look at his eyes. “If I may ask, which hospital did Mr. Shen stay at? The doctor seems very skilled!”

“It’s not the doctor who was skilled,” Shen Zhiheng said, still amiably. “It’s me who was fortunate.”

“Those who survive catastrophe are bound for good fortune in the future. Could I have the honour of inviting Mr. Shen to have a meal with me, to celebrate Mr. Shen’s recovery?”

Shen Zhiheng nodded. “Sure.”

He had never spoken so much to Li Yingliang, let alone agreed to be his guest. Li Yingliang paused. He did not know why, but the hairs on his body were raised and his back was drenched in cold sweat. After two seconds, he finally showed his joy, though it was not exactly natural. It was almost as if he was so full of hate that he was in pain.

“Excellent! I’ve admired Mr. Shen for so long, and have long wanted to get to know you as a friend, but never had the chance to. This time, Mr. Shen has given me so much face [9] , I’m really extremely happy. Does tomorrow night work for you?”

Shen Zhiheng looked upwards in thought, and then replied, “I have other business to attend to tomorrow. Let’s make it the following day.”

“Good, good, the following day it is.” Li Yingliang seemed to have lost a little control of himself as he clapped his hands together loudly. “The following night, I will send someone in advance to give you an invitation.”

Shen Zhiheng nodded and smiled. “Good! See you the day after tomorrow.”

At this point, a curly-haired young man ran out from the dance hall, shouting loudly from a distance, “Shen-xiong!”

Shen Zhiheng turned to spare him a glance, then said to Li Yingliang, “Then, if you’ll excuse me first.”

Li Yingliang hurriedly extended a hand. “Sure, please do.”

Shen Zhiheng turned and walked towards Situ Weilian, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as he brought him back to the large dance hall. “What are the results of the battle?”

Situ Weilian originally had no status to attend this dance occasion. With a goal in mind, he had begged Shen Zhiheng to bring him. His goal was the one who had stolen the limelight tonight, the second young mistress Jin Jingxue. Ever since he had fortuitously gotten to know Jin Jingxue last year, the energetic and beautiful second young mistress Jin had become the goddess of Situ Weilian’s heart. Li Yingliang thought that Jin Jingxue was extremely annoying; if Division Commander Jin were to pass away that night, he would cut all the ties between him and her the next morning. But given how Li Yingliang was a strange person, his evaluation could not be counted. In the eyes of the normal youth, Jin Jingxue’s beauty and wealth were a given, even more adorable was her bright and candid demeanour. She loved to talk and laugh, almost like a chivalrous heroine, befitting of her status as a modern beauty of the new era.

Tonight, Situ Weilian bore a small glimmer of hope. At the very least, he could see Jin Jingxue from a distance. At the most, he could share a dance with her. Now, as he walked beside Shen Zhiheng, his face was red and sweaty.

He said softly, “I just exchanged quite a few words with Jingxue. She’s extremely courteous, and when she found out that I’m a doctor, she even praised me, saying that I’m smart.”

Shen Zhiheng turned his head slightly to look at him. “Jingxue?”

“Her name is Jingxue, is there anything wrong with me saying her name? It’s not like I said something over the top.”

Shen Zhiheng raised an eyebrow. “Neither did I say anything over the top.”

Situ Weilian was so shy that his face and ears were crimson. He was hardly shy, his face turning red only when Jin Jingxue was mentioned. “Shen-xiong, stop teasing me, okay? After tonight, I don’t know if I’ll have another chance to meet her again.”

Shen Zhiheng stopped. “Then go and find her again and invite her out for a meal or for a film! Unless you’re content with only bumping into her occasionally for the rest of your life?”

“Then will she reject me?”

“Don’t know, just go and try your luck.”

“I’m afraid that she’ll have a bad impression of me. What about this, Shen-xiong, you accompany me and help me speak to her. If she declines, then she’ll be declining the two of us. If not, I’ll be nervous.”

“I can go, but if she agrees, will your meal and film include me as well?”

“Stop fooling around, I know you won’t be bothered with this. Even if we include you, you wouldn’t go.”

“We?”

“Look at you picking on my words again!”

Shen Zhiheng clapped his back. “Fine, I’ll go with you. I’ll first chat idly with Miss Jin. We’ll talk about what good restaurants there are, and if there are any new films recently. Then, you’ll interject, and ask her if she is interested in going to a restaurant or in watching a film with you. As for whether she is willing to or not, it’s none of my business anymore. How’s that?”

Situ Weilian was so delighted he flashed a toothy grin, raking his hand through his head full of hair, trying to press his errant curls down.

Shen Zhiheng really went to see Jin Jingxue.

As a matter of fact, he looked like a young man, but for some reason, he did not seem to have anything in common with the other young people who were present. Perhaps, it was because all the young people who were present were young masters, and the people he frequently interacted with were these young masters’ fathers.

He always kept a distance from women, and it was rare for him to chat with young ladies. Jin Jingxue was a little puzzled, but also a little flattered. After politely exchanging some idle talk, Situ Weilian, who was sitting nearby with his ears peeled, jumped onto a good opportunity with much vigilance to ask Jin Jingxue out.

Without thinking much of it, Jin Jingxue readily agreed. Shen Zhiheng sat for a while, then stood up to leave. Jin Jingxue was a little flustered, when a head suddenly emerged from behind her shoulder.

“You know Shen Zhiheng?”

She turned, seeing Li Yingliang, who was standing behind her with his hands on his knees and his buttocks in the air, and with only his head extended towards her. Jin Jingxue looked at him, blinked her large eyes, and asked, “Where did you run off to? Why couldn’t I find you for so long?”

At once, she reached out to twist his ear, saying angrily, “Since you’ve surrendered yourself, you can’t blame me!”

Li Yingliang felt like he had fallen into the devil’s clutches.

He continuously danced seven or eight dances. Since he could not dance well, Jin Jingxue kept viciously pinching him, and the more she pinched, the messier his feet became. In the end, annoyed, he pushed away Jin Jingxue and turned around to leave, walking to the entrance of the hotel to get some fresh air. There was a steady stream of cars driving off at the entrance; there were already guests who had started to leave the venue. Standing at the steps before the entrance, he looked at the cars, thinking that among all of these cars, there was one waiting for him. It was hard to believe that he would have this day, when he had a car, had power, and could throw his weight around.

There were too many cars, and they had to queue up to slowly drive to the street. He lit a cigarette for himself, smoking while observing each car. At the end of the queue was a new, gleaming, crow black car. The curtains at the backseat were half drawn, and under the lights, he suddenly realised that hidden behind the curtains was half a face; this was precisely Shen Zhiheng.

Shen Zhiheng was staring at him the whole time, and he did not know how long he had been staring. Meeting his gaze, Shen Zhiheng waved slowly at him in farewell.

The car left Jinghua Hotel, first sending Situ Weilian home.

Situ Weilian sat beside Shen Zhiheng. He was in relatively good spirits, continuously whistling a little tune for the entire journey. He said to Shen Zhiheng, “Shen-xiong, I definitely won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

Shen Zhiheng was leaning his head against the window, not paying him much attention. “Then just sleep if you feel sleepy tomorrow.”

“How should I thank you?”

“There’s no need [10] .”

“Shen-xiong, you’re so good to me.”

“You saved my life, this is what I owe you.”

Situ Weilian suddenly moved towards him, looking at him closely, “Why are you so listless? Are you hungry?”

Shen Zhiheng gazed down at him, “I have something on my mind.”

------------------------------------------------------------

姓X的 (xìng X dè), with X being that person’s surname, is an impolite way of referring to someone, whether genuinely in a rude fashion (i.e. meaning it, as Li Guisheng does here), or jokingly or sarcastically (e.g. between friends).

热察 (rè chá). I’m not too sure about this, but this could be referring to the 热河 (rè hé) province, together with some other locality. This was a province that existed during the Republican Era, and in present day, is part of Hebei, Liaoning, and Inner Mongolia.

In the original novel, the characters for Jin Jingxue’s name are 金静雪, which differs from the 金靖雪 used in the drama. Both 静 and 靖 are pronounced as “jìng”. The former means “quiet”, while the latter means “peaceful” or “tranquil”. However, in certain scenes of the drama, Jin Jingxue’s name is still written as 金静雪, although the subtitles and drama marketing materials use 金靖雪.

Empress Dowager Cixi (1835-1908) was a controversial empress dowager, but also one of the most influential women in Chinese history. More information here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Empress_Dowager_Cixi.

I.e. no shame

长袍 (cháng páo) or 长衫 (cháng shān) is a traditional Chinese attire, originating from the Manchurians but later modified by the Han Chinese. It was commonly worn during the Qing Dynasty and Republican Era. This is also what Shen Zhiheng in the show frequently wears.

Two eyes, two nostrils, two ears, one mouth.

The exact word used here was 红彤 (hóng tóng), which refers to a red that has very slight yellow tones.

给面子 (gěi miàn zi), literally “give face”, is a very Chinese concept. It loosely means to respect someone and not humiliate them.

The phrase used here was 大恩不言谢, which literally means that someone had done you such a great favour that using words to thank them is not enough, instead, you would repay them back the favour in the future by helping them in turn.

[evilhasnever]

Time for a wedding, set in the same reincarnation AU as this and this ficlet by me and this (by @lansplaining)! Btw, I have collected all previous parts in a series on Ao3 for ease of reading: Memory Lane (get it?)

A few people wanted to see what would happen if JGY recovered his memories, which means there is angst coming up... (this drabble turned into 3000 words, so Ao3 link if you prefer!)

For all that Lan Xichen knows his past life, he cannot tell the future. And the future seems dead set on tripping him up, as if holding a grudge in order to counterbalance whatever advantage his past memories may give him. 

That is to say, Meng Yao disappears the morning they are supposed to get married. 

It was not meant to be a big affair, but even a small modern ceremony ends up being a complex production when overzealous friends and overly-traditional relatives are involved. Lan Huan and Meng Yao had agreed to go to the venue separately, both to appease the loudest aunties and to build up some excitement for their own reunion as husbands. This means Lan Huan has slept at Wangji’s place for the past two days, leaving Meng Yao alone in the apartment they share, and has forced himself not to text him constantly over the past forty-eight hours.

At 10 in the morning on the day of the ceremony, Lan Huan is sweating in his tux on the way to the venue, driven by Wangji; he’s fruitlessly trying to meditate to keep calm, but he can’t quite stamp down his eagerness. For once his nerves are of the positive, tickling variety reserved for happy occasions - he doesn’t expect anything to go wrong today, considering A-Yao planned everything. 

He should have known better. 

When they are ten minutes away, Lan Huan’s cell phone rings, spooking both brothers out of their meditative silence. It’s Meng Shi, calling from the reception hall. It sounds like she has a hand on the receiver so as not to be overheard.

"A-Huan, A-Yao is not here."

Lan Xichen blanches. “He is what…?”

“He is not here. He is always here first, heavens knows he would be checking every single napkin even on his own wedding day, but today…”

“ I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Didn’t you go the venue together?”

“No, he called me a taxi. He said he had an errand to run, but that was two hours ago and he is not answering his phone. He always tells me where he is, A-Huan, and now…!”

“Perhaps he is just late,” Lan Xichen murmurs, his pulse already picking up speed because the very idea is absurd. “What kind of errand? The cake? A-Yao is always very particular about catering…”

“He didn’t say. A-Huan, did something happen?”

“Not that I know of, but I didn’t see him yesterday, we wanted to play up the anticipation a little…” Lan Huan admits. “Did you see him for dinner last night?” 

“Yes, I did… A-Yao said he wasn’t feeling well, but I thought it was just nerves,” Meng Shi carefully says, and Lan Huan can almost imagine her pursing her lips. “He said he ran out on his own stag party. I didn’t think much of it, A-Yao has never liked surprise parties.”

Lan Xichen’s brow furrows. “I’ll make some calls. Please wait there, and call me if he arrives.”

He tries A-Yao’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a quick message, just to be safe: “A-Yao, are you ok? I’m almost at the venue. Let me know if something happened, alright? I love you.”

Carefully ignoring Wangji’s glance in the rear view mirror, he shoots a text to Mingjue and another to Jin Zixuan, asking if A-Yao is coming with them by any chance. Huaisang calls him back from his brother’s phone immediately. “Xichen-ge, did you lose your fiance?”

“Miscommunication,” Lan Xichen replies tightly. “What happened at the stag party, Huaisang?” 

“Ayo, I don’t know anything! Xuanyu and I put him in the car and he freaked out as if we were some gangsters coming for his family. He was absolutely no fun the whole evening, after I prepared all the decorations and even the stripper–I mean, the entertainment!”

Lan Xichen pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the grasping hands of a migraine growing in the back of his skull. “We will discuss this at a later time, Huaisang. Did A-Yao do or say anything strange at the party?”

“He hardly said anything at all, and then he just up and left when we tried to put a veil on him for the photos! Total spoilsport. Did he get cold feet?”

“He is late.”

Huaisang gasps in horror. 

“I just want to make sure he is safe. Do you know where he was yesterday afternoon, before you kidnapped him?”

“I resent that wording! Anyway, I think he went to pick up his wedding tux with Jin Zixuan. Trying to be a good brother wa—y too late if you ask me.”

“Alright, thanks. See you at the reception, Huaisang.”

“Is it… still on? Just wondering if I need to get dressed.”

“I’d appreciate yours and your brother’s presence either way,” Lan Xichen says, wryly. 

“'mkay, ge. Best of luck.”

When they reach the wedding venue, they are momentarily intercepted by Shufu - Lan Xichen smiles and dodges him, ear glued to his phone as Wangji shadows him to the waiting room and locks the door. 

When they are alone, Lan Huan turns to his brother. “Wangji. A-Yao should already be here, but I can’t track him down.”

Wangji’s gaze hardens imperceptibly, and Lan Xichen takes a deep breath and lifts his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I am worried about him. His mother doesn’t know where he is either.” 

“Why would he flee?” Wangji asks. 

“We should not jump to conclusions,” Lan Xichen cautions, “He… he should have no reason to do so.” 

“The reasons may be unrelated to the past,” Wangji offers, after a thoughtful moment. “Car accident, panic attack.” 

“Alright, let’s… one thing at a time,” Lan Huan chuckles nervously, trying to push down the bubble of fear growing in his stomach.

For the next few minutes, they both busy themselves calling local hospitals. Thankfully, nobody that looks like A-Yao has been taken to any of the city ERs this morning. Lan Xichen exhales, then dials A-Yao’s number again, letting it ring off the hook. 

When it goes to voicemail again, he decides to try his luck and call Jin Zixuan’s number, which he has only because he is very thorough and always prepared for emergencies - or so he thought, at any rate.

“Ah, Lan Xichen,” Zixuan answers on the third ring. “Are you calling to tell me not to come to the wedding? Because A-Li and I are almost there! I already left several apologies on A-Yao’s answering machine, but I don’t know how my brother’s mind works…”

“Why would you apologize?” Lan Xichen asks, suddenly alert. “Did something happen yesterday?”

“It was odd,” Zixuan grunts, and there are background baby noises for a short while - Lan Xichen holds his breath until Zixuan resumes speaking. “One moment he was all dimples, then when he tried on his wedding tux he stopped dead and looked like he’d short-circuited. Stuck like a mannequin. I’ve never seen him not frenetic, which is why I asked him if he perhaps didn’t like the suit? Told him if we paid extra we could get him another one in time for the wedding, though it would not be custom-made… he wasn’t listening at all, just doing this wide-eyed face in the mirror. I had told him that white was not his color, but the reaction seemed extreme!”

“Zixuan, I need to know exactly what he said. Word for word, if you could be so kind.”

Another long sigh, more baby noises. “Well. I forgive him, because god knows I was panicking the day before my wedding, but–he said I should be dead.”

Oh . 

“I have to go,” Lan Xichen whispers, and hangs up.

He turns swiftly to his brother. “Wangji. I need you to ask your boyfriend to track A-Yao’s phone, stat.”

Wangji’s eyebrows rise in unadulterated shock, but to his credit he doesn't deny that Wei Wuxian can absolutely do that.

“I… I don’t know where he would go,” Lan Huan admits. “Not in this life.” Where would he run? The uncertainty makes him feel unmoored, like he’s being pulled down by a turbulent sea and can’t keep himself afloat. “I think it’s a... memory emergency.”

“I will ask Wei Ying.”

It takes what feels like an eternity, though in truth Lan Xichen is aware that Wei Wuxian accomplishes the task in a criminally speedy manner, and without asking any questions. Not while he’s in earshot, anyway.

“I sent you the last known location,” Wei Wuxian shrugs at last, “but I dunno if he still has the phone on him or he dumped it.” 

“Thank you, Wei Wuxian. Wangji… can I take your car?”

“Mn.” For a moment, Lan Huan can see his brother wants to offer to go with him, so he shakes his head in silence. Wangji hands over the keys and squints at him. “Brother… remember the rule.”

“I know. The past is not the present. The present is not the future. I know, Wangji.” 

“Sooo… what do we do with the wedding?" Wei Wuxian interjects, apparently not grasping the gravity of the situation. "We have the venue booked until 2pm but I’m sure they have people lined up for later…”

“I’m sure you’ll think of some way to buy time,” Lan Xichen smiles tightly. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

“Did you hear that, Lan er-gege? We gotta think of a distraction~ you got any ideas?” 

Lan Xichen is out of the door and behind the wheel as fast as he can be. He keeps an eye on his phone, but the only updates he gets are from Meng Shi saying A-Yao isn’t there yet, and Shufu reminding him of the schedule and cancellation fees. 

He tracks down the coordinates to an off-season beach two hours south, a straight line from the city. There’s a parking lot nearby, but it’s empty - A-Yao doesn’t have a car. He pictures him telling an Uber driver to just drive until he tells him to stop, and his heart aches. Still, some irrational hope nestles inside him, whispering that perhaps A-Yao hasn’t thrown away his phone yet. That he may want to be found. 

Lan Xichen parks hurriedly across two spaces and hurries out to the sea, sinking in the sand with every step. He pauses to kick off his dress shoes, then resumes running down the seashore. With immense relief, he spots A-Yao, a tiny white-clad figure in the distance, a few hundred meters down the desolate stretch of sea. 

Is it embedded somewhere in A-Yao’s soul to run away to the sea, despite knowing that in this life he cannot swim?

“A-Yao!” he calls out, waving his arms clumsily. There is absolutely nobody else out in January, no umbrellas and no chairs, so A-Yao will certainly see him coming from afar - no point making his approach cautious. Lan Xichen had half expected A-Yao to turn tail and make him chase him, but miraculously he does not.

“A-Yao,” he gasps again when he catches up to him, tugging at his collar. “Are you alright, A-Yao?”

His A-Yao turns, dark-rimmed eyes and windswept hair, terse like a winter morning. He’s undone his bowtie and popped a few buttons at his collar, the tuxedo jacket thrown over his shoulder. 

“The last time I saw you, you would not call me that anymore,” Jin Guangyao says, his voice raspy from the wind. 

“You saw me yesterday morning, A-Yao,” Lan Huan soothes, stepping towards him with his hand outstretched. 

“Right.” A-Yao chuckles humorlessly, and draws a circle in the sand with a naked foot. The hem of his pants is caked in wet sand, but he does not seem to mind. “I meant… before.” 

He looks down, a strange smile on his face, then takes off his engagement ring and holds it out towards Lan Xichen, without looking up at him. “I should return this.”

Despite the fear gripping his heart, Lan Huan shakes his head firmly. “It’s yours. You don't have to keep it, but I don’t want it back.”

A-Yao’s hand lowers, a little hesitantly. Then his razorblade gaze snaps up and pierces Lan Xichen where he stands. “Er-ge. Can you tell me why every wedding of mine comes with a side of lies?” 

Lan Xichen stands to attention. “I never lied to you, A-Yao.”

“You never told me you remembered the past.” It is not a question, so Lan Xichen does not treat it as such.

“Would you have wanted to know?” he asks instead.

A-Yao doesn’t reply for a moment, gaze returning to the gray wintry sea. “What I don’t understand,” he says to the waves, “is why you sought me out, if you remembered.” 

“A-Yao... Even if we’d been complete strangers, I would still have fallen for you. But all the more because I remembered you, how could I not seek you out?” Lan Xichen frowns at his poor wording; he had prepared this speech a million times, but now it scatters like sand in the breeze. “My family has a rule against approaching people from the past, did you know? But A-Yao…  what do I have these memories for, if not to find you?”

A-Yao’s gaze drops to the sand at his feet, the cold waves lapping at his ankles. “Even after everything?”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes briefly. He’s had a lot of time to think about this. “I’m here, aren’t I?’

The reply seems to strike true. A-Yao looks taken aback, but Lan Xichen dares to hope it's a good kind of surprise. Like that time he surprised A-Yao at the airport with flowers, or the time he offered to teach him to play the qin. He hazards another step closer to him, a mere arm’s length from A-Yao. He aches to touch him, but he can’t. Not yet. 

“Mother’s treatment,” A-Yao says abruptly. “Tell me straight.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen inclines his head. “You and I hadn’t met yet, so I asked a friend to make an anonymous donation in my place.” 

A-Yao purses his lips. “I suppose I must thank you.”

“I didn't do it to earn your thanks,” Lan Xichen sighs. “Knowing and not acting would have been unthinkable, that is all.”

“Still, thank you. My mother is… she is everything.” A-Yao looks younger, vulnerable for the space of a breath.

Lan Xichen smiles. “I care for her too. Your mother is wonderful.”

A-Yao almost smiles at that, but it fades before it can reach the top half of his face, his eyes narrowing again in scrutiny. 

“You introduced me to Qin Su at June’s charity luncheon. Did you invite her?” 

Lan Xichen swallows, painfully. “I did not invite her, but she was there.” He bites his lip. “I looked into it. You are… not related, in this life.” 

A-Yao makes a little ‘hah’ sound, as swift as paper ripping. “I’m happy for her. But why did you go out of your way to introduce her to me? You and I had just started dating.”

All Lan Huan can do is shrug, his shoulders stiff and frozen in the confines of his tuxedo. “Tempting fate, I suppose.” 

“Still unfailingly selfless,” A-Yao hums, and it is a little too dry to feel like praise.

They look at a pair of seagulls chasing each other among cacophonous screams. They sound particularly shrill, drawing playful circles in the air and around each other.

“It is selfishness,” Lan Xichen eventually admits. “I just wanted to make sure that… I just wanted to make sure.” 

A-Yao shakes his head with a small exhale, barely a chuckle. He drops his jacket on the sand and lifts both arms to cup Lan Xichen’s jaw, pulling him slightly closer. His fingers are frozen cold, his eyes dark and serious, with an intensity that halts Lan Xichen’s breath halfway up his throat. 

“Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen... in a world in which I can marry you, how could I ever not?” The words, carefully enunciated, hit Lan Xichen’s chilled face in small, warm puffs of breath. A-Yao is not smiling, and that, for some reason, puts Lan Huan’s heart at ease. It gives his words the resonance of unfailing truth, a timeless verdict.

“We still could,” he hopefully offers. “Well, if Wei Wuxian managed to stall enough.” 

A-Yao snorts softly, then shakes his head. “Not now. I think… I need to get away.”

He surely notices the sheer horror on Lan Xichen’s face, because his brows knit together in an apologetic squint. “Not forever, gege. Just for a little while, to get my head in order.”

Lan Xichen folds his arms behind his back, and leans into A-Yao’s hands cupping his jaw. “We still have the honeymoon to Japan booked for tomorrow…”

A-Yao chuckles, breathless and disbelieving. Then his dark, half-lidded eyes scan Lan Xichen’s face, considering. “...You’d come?”

“Unquestioningly,” Lan Xichen says. “Right now, if you wanted to.”

“With no luggage?”

“I don’t need anything.”

The answer seems to please A-Yao, because his smile turns a shade more secretive, lashes lowering on his cheeks.

Still, he hedges, thumb tracing Lan Xichen’s chin in direct contradiction with his words. “Er-ge… I can’t ask you to…” 

“You need not to ask,” Lan Xichen smiles, eager, desperate to give away his heart. “If we drive to the airport now, we can catch an earlier flight. I’ll call on the way there.”

“A honeymoon while we are still not married,” A-Yao smirks. “What would your shufu say?”

Lan Xichen grins at him with infinite tenderness. “We can marry anytime, but we can only elope once.”

A little skittish, A-Yao puts his hand in his nonetheless, tugging him along as they amble towards the parking lot. They shake the sand off their pants, exchanging half smiles at the state of their attire. They spend an awkward minute tracking down their discared shoes.

When they’re safely in the car, Lan Xichen offers his smartphone to him. “I’m all for eloping, but call your mother and Wangji to make sure they don’t worry, will you?” 

A-Yao brushes Lan Xichen’s knuckles delicately before taking his phone from him, and laughs. It’s small, but as wonderful as the first time.