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It’s almost an unspoken rule that Yunmeng Jiang hosts their discussion conference in spring, the same way that Gusu Lan avoids hosting during winter — the other sects do not take too kindly to Yunmeng’s summers, despite the fact that the lotuses that Jiang Cheng’s home is so known for only blooms in summer.
It doesn’t really bother Jiang Cheng too much when the conference is to be; if given a choice, he would rather not be hosting the conference this year at all, but it is Lanling Jin’s turn this year, and Jin Ling is not in a position to do so given his upcoming nuptials to plan. He had directed a pitiful expression at Jiang Cheng so completely unbefitting of a twenty-six year old, much less a leader of a prominent sect, that Jiang Cheng was left with no choice but to volunteer Yunmeng Jiang to host in place of Lanling Jin just to make Jin Ling’s face stop emoting.
Watching Jin Ling and Ouyang Zizhen sneaking off like lovesick teenagers towards the direction of Jiang Cheng’s private garden now as though Jiang Cheng hadn’t assigned them adjoining rooms in the guest quarters out of consideration that they may wish to be close to one another, Jiang Cheng thinks that being charitable towards his nephew was a mistake.
“Brat,” he chides under his breath, but does the two idiots the courtesy of sealing the entrance to the garden with a talisman so that they will not be bothered.
He had originally wanted to take a slow stroll through the garden to rid himself of the headache that he thinks is almost completely induced by Yao-zongzhu, but he turns back to the direction of his chambers now.
Perhaps some tea would help. If not, Jiang Cheng is not opposed to some liquor tonight.
He aborts the thought almost as soon as it comes to him; his presence is required at dawn tomorrow to oversee the visiting disciples’ training, and the idea of doing so while hungover is terrible.
He spares a brief moment to think how much Wei Wuxian has lucked out in bagging himself a Lan to oversee duties that Wei Wuxian would have no chance in hell waking up for, and then another moment to mourn the fact that he will have to spend time with Lan Wangji at the bloody crack of dawn tomorrow.
Ugh, even spending time with a sleep-walking Wei Wuxian would be more enjoyable.
His relationship with Wei Wuxian has improved over the years. There is no real expectation that they would be able to go back to being the way they were before everything went wrong, but they’re friendly now, at the very least, and Wei Wuxian introduces himself as an Yunmeng Jiang disciple at events like these.
Jiang Cheng will never admit it out loud, but the first time Wei Wuxian did that a few years ago, Jiang Cheng had to excuse himself from the conference because his eyes had stung with tears hearing Wei Wuxian proudly declare himself to be Jiang Cheng’s shixiong again after so long.
Jiang Cheng still actively dislikes Lan Wangji, though, but he’s sure that’s part of parcel of how you’re supposed to feel about your sibling’s husband. Hadn’t he felt the same way about Jin Zixuan as well?
He lets his thoughts wander to more mundane matters as he prepares for bed. He does end up making that pot of tea for himself, and it does in fact do wonders for his headache.
He’s calm and in a mildly pleasant mood, just about to turn in for the night when someone raps on his door in quick, sharp successions — an urgent caller.
Jiang Cheng tries his best not to sigh. It’d better not be that brat Jin Ling. Or bloody Wei Wuxian. If he has to threaten the use of Zidian against them to get them to leave him alone to rest, he will.
It turns out to be neither of his annoying family members.
“Jiang-zongzhu!” Lan Jingyi exclaims, and then drops into a quick, halfhearted bow that Jiang Cheng thinks would earn Lan Jingyi some handstands back at Cloud Recesses. “Jiang-zongzhu, you wouldn’t be opposed to hiding me for ten minutes to save me from grievous bodily harm, would you?”
He doesn’t wait for Jiang Cheng to reply, pushing his way past Jiang Cheng, and throwing the door close quickly behind him.
Jiang Cheng sighs. “Do I want to know?”
“I may have suggested to some impressionable junior disciples that the sect rules do not exactly apply while we are away from Cloud Recesses?” Lan Jingyi says, with a sheepish smile. “And lao-xiansheng may have, regrettably, been in earshot when I made those suggestions?”
“Right,” Jiang Cheng says drily. “So I’m harbouring a fugitive from Lan Qiren.”
Lan Jingyi beams. “Does it help if you think of it as saving a poor disciple in distress?”
“No,” Jiang Cheng tells him. He doesn’t quite roll his eyes, but it’s a close thing. “He already caught you red-handed,” he says. “You know it’s only a matter of time before Lan Qiren metes out your punishment.”
“I am holding out hope that someone will cause even more trouble before lao-xiansheng catches me,” Lan Jingyi says. He’s still smiling. “Is that the smartest plan? No, but it’s the one I am sticking with.”
This time, Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Ten minutes,” he tells Lan Jingyi.
“About that,” Lan Jingyi says.
The tone in his voice speaks of trouble. The look in his eyes is reminiscent of the way Jin Ling gets when he’s about to start something. Already, Jiang Cheng can feel his subsiding headache seep back in slowly.
“I wasn’t going to do it, because on better days, I find that I value all my limbs being attached to my body, but I’m here now, in your private chambers, and it seems foolish to throw away the best shot I’m probably ever going to get. So...” Lan Jingyi squares his shoulders, and looks into Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “I was wondering if I could talk you into letting me stay for more than ten minutes. Specifically, I was wondering if I could talk my way into your bed.”
There is a beat.
Two.
“If it wasn’t clear,” Lan Jingyi says, “I was propositioning you.”
“It was clear,” Jiang Cheng tells him. And then, “No.”
Lan Jingyi’s shoulders slump. There is an honest to god pout on his face. “Is this a gender thing, or is this an age thing?” he asks. “You’re not that much older than me. I mean, Nie-qianbei is at least two centuries older than you, and you were considering marrying her.”
“I was not-” Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath. One of these days, he’s going to ask Lan Xichen to teach him the silencing spell, and then he will use it on Jin Ling so that the brat learns that ‘privileged and confidential’ does not equate to ‘blabber this to all three of your friends’. “It’s neither of those things.”
Lan Jingyi is old enough to make his own terrible decisions, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t think it quite wise to be one of the terrible decisions that Lan Jingyi makes. Even if it’s out of consideration of Lan Jingyi’s friendship with Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng should decline.
Lan Jingyi frowns. “I rank second on this year’s list of most attractive cultivators under thirty! Second!” he exclaims. “Sizhui and I have discussed this, and he concedes that we ought to have been co-ranked first!”
“You are Jin Ling’s friend,” Jiang Cheng says, before Lan Jingyi can get too worked up.
“Give me five minutes to find Jin Ling so I can tell him we are no longer friends.”
Jiang Cheng snorts. “Yes, because acting like this is going to get me to fuck you.”
Lan Jingyi is silent for a suspiciously long time.
“You are thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jiang Cheng asks, amusement cresting.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Jingyi whines, “have mercy on this pitiful disciple, and please take me to bed.”
“There are plenty of visiting disciples who would be willing,” Jiang Cheng tells him. “You will not have trouble looking.”
“Yes,” Lan Jingyi says, “but none of them are you.”
Jiang Cheng arches an eyebrow.
Despite his better judgement, he starts to think of it — of stripping Lan Jingyi out of his layers of robes, of leaving his marks on Lan Jingyi’s pale skin. It’s an intriguing thought, one that bears some level of consideration, even if Jiang Cheng is unsure if he will act on it.
Lan Jingyi must read something off Jiang Cheng’s face, because the look in his eyes turn sharper, more determined. He steps in close, rests his palms on Jiang Cheng’s chest. “Do you want to know something else I rank really highly in, Jiang-zongzhu?” he murmurs, voice low and almost...sultry. “Blowjob skills.”
A frisson of heat wells up in Jiang Cheng. “Also second?”
Lan Jingyi spares a moment to look offended, and it is this, of all things, that seals it for Jiang Cheng. Fucking unbelievable.
“Unparalleled in Gusu,” Lan Jingyi corrects. “I could be unparalleled in Yunmeng as well. I don’t know, I’ve never tried.”
Jiang Cheng’s lips curl. “We’ll see about that.”
--
“I knew it,” Lan Jingyi breathes out much later in the night, once he’s had a chance to catch his breath, sprawled across Jiang Cheng’s bed. “I just knew it would be good with you.”
Jiang Cheng strokes a hand down Lan Jingyi’s side, smirks when he feels the younger man shiver.
“So?” Lan Jingyi asks.
“So?” Jiang Cheng echoes.
“Am I also unparalleled in Yunmeng?” Lan Jingyi asks, turning to look at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng barks out a laugh. “Fifth, at best,” he says.
“Fifth?” Lan Jingyi demands, drawing himself up. “Redo! Now!”
“I’m not in my twenties anymore, Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng says, still grinning even as he closes his eyes, but he makes no moves to stop Lan Jingyi’s wandering hands.
“Should’ve thought of that before you ranked me fifth,” Lan Jingyi tells him, and then moves to straddle Jiang Cheng again. “I need to practise my way into first place. Please bear with this incompetent disciple, Jiang-zongzhu.”
Jiang Cheng is still laughing when Lan Jingyi takes him into his mouth.
This is certainly shaping up to be a much more interesting discussion conference.
--
It’s not meant to last longer than the discussion conference at Lotus Pier.
Lan Jingyi had seemed visibly reluctant to leave Jiang Cheng’s room the last morning they spent together, but while Jiang Cheng had been admittedly charmed by Lan Jingyi’s gentle petulance, he’d eventually sent Lan Jingyi off with the Lan entourage.
It had been fun while it lasted, but Jiang Cheng is a practical man, and recognises the fling for what it is, even if he can admit to a small twinge of regret at the thought, considering that Lan Jingyi was an excellent partner in bed.
Except, scarcely six weeks later, Lan Jingyi returns.
“That frown is awfully pronounced,” Lan Jingyi remarks as he makes his way down Zilian Hall where Jiang Cheng sees all his petitioners. “Should I take it that Jiang-zongzhu is unhappy to see me? Does this mean that Jiang-zongzhu will deny this humble cultivator if he seeks a roof over his head for the next two nights?”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Do I want to know why you’re here?”
“Night hunt!” Lan Jingyi replies cheerily. “The next full moon is in two nights. I’ve promised the Xiuyue Village that I’ll rid them of their ghost, but she apparently only shows up during full moons.”
“You’re travelling alone?” Jiang Cheng asks. He knows Lan Jingyi’s cultivation level is such that he can manage night-hunting alone, but it is still good practice to come out in pairs; the Lan Sect, of all sects, would not encourage its disciples to venture out alone, knowing the dangers involved.
“It builds character,” Lan Jingyi says. “Wei-qianbei said so.”
“Wei Wuxian is an idiot,” Jiang Cheng says with feeling. “You should know better than to take advice from him.”
Lan Jingyi’s lips quirk up. “I’ll take advice from my good Jiang-qianbei, then,” he says, and then skips the rest of the way up to Jiang Cheng’s throne, and makes himself at home on Jiang Cheng’s lap. “Hello, gege, I’ve missed you.”
Lan Jingyi is too much for Jiang Cheng’s blood pressure, he swears.
“Two nights, no more than that,” Jiang Cheng tells Lan Jingyi, but belies the sternness in his tone by allowing Lan Jingyi to press light kisses to the underside of his jaw. Xiuyue Village is just outside of Yunmeng borders; it would not be a pain to travel there. “And we will go to Xiuyue Village together.”
Lan Jingyi beams at him. “Ah, how could I say no to a private lesson in night-hunting from the great Sandu Shengshou?” he murmurs. “There is much I have to learn from you.”
Jiang Cheng huffs out a soft laugh. “Be good,” he murmurs, and shifts to dislodge Lan Jingyi from his lap. “There are still petitioners I have to see after this. Get yourself cleaned up, and rest. I’ll have the servants come get you when it’s time for dinner.”
“One kiss to tide me through till then?” Lan Jingyi asks.
Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “Later,” he tells Lan Jingyi. “You and I both know how difficult it would be to stop after one kiss.”
“It would be helpful if you could stop looking at me like that when you’re telling me not to kiss you,” Lan Jingyi sighs, mournful, but dutifully slides off Jiang Cheng’s lap, and makes his way back out of the hall. “I want chicken wings for dinner, though! I deserve at least that!” he calls out as he leaves.
Jiang Cheng shakes his head at Lan Jingyi’s retreating back, but cannot help the curl of his lips.
--
It becomes a pattern, after.
At first, Lan Jingyi stops by Lotus Pier to rest for a few days every time he’s night-hunting in the region, never more than three days, always about a few weeks in between each visit. Lan Jingyi’s presence at Lotus Pier is a welcome distraction from Jiang Cheng’s duties as a sect leader, and Jiang Cheng is big enough to admit that he enjoys Lan Jingyi’s company, in and outside of his bed.
It slowly builds up.
They are nearing the end of autumn when Lan Jingyi barrels into Jiang Cheng’s chambers in the middle of the night, unannounced, and says, “Jiang-zongzhu, this humble cultivator seeks asylum.”
Jiang Cheng does not bother getting out of bed, not with how Lan Jingyi is shedding layers as he speaks. “What has happened now?”
“Lao-xiansheng is finally going to kill me,” Lan Jingyi tells him. “This is classic favouritism at play, because Wei-qianbei and I did it together, and Wei-qianbei started it first, really, but lao-xiansheng is only out for my blood! All because I don’t have Hanguang-jun’s all-encompassing protection!”
“I don’t think favouritism is the word for it,” Jiang Cheng murmurs, and lifts his blankets so Lan Jingyi can slip into bed. “Lan Qiren will probably decide to go into seclusion if he finds out that anyone at all thinks Wei Wuxian is his favourite.”
“Whatever it is,” Lan Jingyi says, pressing his face into the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck, “it remains a fact that I, a harmless, pure-hearted disciple of a prominent sect, have been forced to escape from my home, in the middle of the night, alone and hungry-”
Jiang Cheng snorts.
Lan Jingyi bites down gently on Jiang Cheng’s neck. “Hungry,” he continues, “and helpless! I’ve travelled long and far to seek shelter and protection from the famed Sandu Shengshou, and all he does is to bully me and not kiss me, and-”
“Two weeks,” Jiang Cheng says, mentally already rearranging his schedule, and then kisses Lan Jingyi until the words that are coming out from him are a lot more pleasant.
--
Months pass in this fashion.
Lan Jingyi’s visits turn more routine — he stays with Jiang Cheng for two weeks, heads back to Cloud Recesses to stay for two more, and then returns to Jiang Cheng again for one reason or another.
He becomes a familiar face in Jiang Cheng’s home.
The senior disciples get along swimmingly with Lan Jingyi, and Jiang Cheng swears that the bulk of his (very impressionable) junior disciples stare at Lan Jingyi with stars in their eyes and hang onto his every word.
Nobody says anything about the fact that Lan Jingyi sleeps in Jiang Cheng’s room, or that he’s started making a habit of stealing Jiang Cheng’s robes to wear, or that Jiang Cheng had robes in his colours tailormade for Lan Jingyi that one occasion.
Well, not to Jiang Cheng’s face anyway.
“It’s nice when Jingyi-gege is here,” one of Jiang Cheng’s youngest disciples, Yuese, tells him, tugging gently at his sleeves, when Jiang Cheng tells Lan Jingyi off for disturbing the training junior disciples. She frowns when Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “Jingyi-gege is fun, zongzhu!” she insists, with all the righteous dignity that a six year-old can manage.
“Fun,” Lan Jingyi mouths at Jiang Cheng, with a shit-eating grin.
He isn’t grinning anymore when Jiang Cheng makes him run laps with the junior disciples.
“Must you work me this hard?” Lan Jingyi grumbles, when he’s done with his laps. He’s barely sweating, but he shrugs himself out of his outer robes, a deliberate retaliation against Jiang Cheng. Today, Lan Jingyi is wearing Jiang Cheng’s pastel purple inner robes, the ones that Jiang Cheng takes most pleasure in taking off Lan Jingyi. His eyes twinkle like he knows Jiang Cheng is thinking about peeling the robes off Lan Jingyi’s body. “Do you not already put me to vigorous task every night?”
A passing disciple within earshot chokes on air, and hurries away from the courtyard.
“I ought to ban you from Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng mutters. He allows himself to look at Lan Jingyi, though, to let his eyes travel down the careless part of the inner robes. He would touch, but the foot traffic around the courtyard they are in is always heavy, and Jiang Cheng would rather not give the disciples more to talk about.
Lan Jingyi makes a face at him. “You always say that, and yet, your wards do nothing to keep me out of Lotus Pier.”
“Hm,” Jiang Cheng hums. “Maybe the next time you’re here, I’ll have Lan Qiren over as a guest.”
Lan Jingyi shimmies closer. “My Wanyin-ge would not be so cruel,” he murmurs, and then presses a kiss to the corner of Jiang Cheng’s lips, before pulling away quickly. He rights his inner robes, and wiggles his eyebrows at Jiang Cheng. “We haven’t sparred in a while. Will Jiang-zongzhu grant a lesson to this humble disciple?”
--
“Do you want me to leave?” Lan Jingyi asks, voice quiet.
The fight leaves Jiang Cheng in a rush. “No,” he tells Lan Jingyi, sliding out of bed. He never sleeps well on the nights of the anniversary of the burning of Lotus Pier; he doesn’t know why he thought today would be different, doesn’t know why he bothered to try, instead of keeping his usual vigil at the ancestral hall. “Sorry. I’m not- I’m not good company today.”
“Wanyin-ge,” Lan Jingyi says, sitting up. He stares at Jiang Cheng a little helplessly. “You don’t have to leave. I can move to a guest room if you want space.”
Jiang Cheng shrugs on his outer robe, and bends down to press a kiss to Lan Jingyi’s brow. “Stay,” he tells him. “Sleep.”
“But-”
“I’ll be fine, Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng tells him, and pushes at him gently until he’s lying down again so Jiang Cheng can tuck the covers over him. “It’s not- It’s always like this.”
“But-”
“I’ll be alright by tomorrow,” Jiang Cheng promises. “Sleep.”
Lan Jingyi holds his gaze for a long moment. He must sense the truth behind Jiang Cheng’s words, because he closes his eyes without any further protest.
Jiang Cheng leaves the room quietly, and makes his way slowly to the ancestral hall.
It’s been years since Lotus Pier burned and Jiang Cheng lost his family, but it’s still difficult to get through this day every year. Wei Wuxian comes back, sometimes, and sits by Jiang Cheng’s side at the ancestral hall. Sometimes that helps; other times, it makes it worse to have someone else there.
Perhaps Jiang Cheng is just used to being alone.
He kneels in front of his parents’ tablet, and goes through the familiar motions of reporting the sect’s progress to them. It’s a habit that he finds that he’s not yet learnt to break. He’s long past feeling desperate for his parents’ validation; he knows that he has done as well as he can, in the circumstances. He’s proud of the Lotus Pier, of the Jiang Sect, that he’s rebuilt.
He tells them about Jin Ling’s impending wedding, about Ouyang Zizhen, and about the way Jin Ling lights up in Ouyang Zizhen’s presence. Jiang Cheng thinks his parents would be proud of Jin Ling the same way Jiang Cheng is; if nothing else, Jiang Cheng likes to think that he’s done his best by Jin Ling over the years.
It helps, most years, to be able to give these reports to his parents. It’s a reminder to himself of all the good things that have happened in the year.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t tell them about Lan Jingyi. Almost does at several different points, but catches himself every single time. He tries not to ponder too much over the fact that it’s memories with Lan Jingyi that come up so often when Jiang Cheng is trying to recall the good things that have happened in the past year.
He was too harsh with Lan Jingyi earlier today. Jiang Cheng had already been snappish and on the edge for most of the day. He knows he should’ve stayed away from Lan Jingyi today, because he knows the way his temper flares on this day every year, but he’d been selfish. Lan Jingyi will leave in two days, and Jiang Cheng had wanted to spend every moment he could with him.
He turns his thoughts away, and settles into a more comfortable position so that he can meditate; he’s not sure he’s ready to admit certain things to himself.
It’s early the next morning when Jiang Cheng steps out of the ancestral hall. The sun has yet to rise, the air outside is cold, and-
Lan Jingyi is asleep outside the hall.
The creak of the door and Jiang Cheng’s footsteps have, thankfully, not woken him up, even though Jiang Cheng knows that Lan Jingyi, like all Lans, sleep lightly. Lan Jingyi must be exhausted. He probably spent the night worrying over Jiang Cheng.
“Foolish boy,” Jiang Cheng mutters to himself, suddenly grateful that Lan Jingyi is still soundly asleep. Jiang Cheng’s heart feels full, and he’s not sure whether Lan Jingyi would be able to read Jiang Cheng’s feelings off his face right now. “Didn’t I tell you I would be fine?”
He makes his way silently toward Lan Jingyi, and scoops him up into his arms gently. Lan Jingyi shifts in Jiang Cheng’s hold, and lets out a discontented huff, but otherwise doesn’t wake as Jiang Cheng makes his way back to his chambers.
He means to let Lan Jingyi sleep in, but Lan Jingyi’s body clock beats the best of Jiang Cheng’s intentions. Barely moments after Jiang Cheng tucks Lan Jingyi back into Jiang Cheng’s bed, Lan Jingyi wakes.
“Wanyin-ge,” Lan Jingyi murmurs, burrowing closer to Jiang Cheng.
“Go back to sleep,” Jiang Cheng tells him, running his fingers through Lan Jingyi’s hair.
“How are you feeling?” Lan Jingyi asks sleepily.
“Better,” Jiang Cheng tells him. It’s not the whole truth, but at least it’s not a lie.
The honest answer would have been — overwhelmed. Like I’m in love, perhaps, would also not be too far off.
He feels Lan Jingyi nod.
“Next year,” Lan Jingyi murmurs, “will you let me keep you company?”
“Jingyi…”
“Only if it helps,” Lan Jingyi adds. He pulls away from Jiang Cheng to look at him. “Jin Ling says it doesn’t always help to have someone there. But if it helps, if you feel like it would be better to have someone else there, will you let me keep you company?”
Jiang Cheng swallows. His hands move of their own accord to frame Lan Jingyi’s face. “Lan Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng says gravely, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”
Lan Jingyi’s yes please in response is mostly muffled against Jiang Cheng’s lips.
Jiang Cheng kisses him slowly, gently, thoroughly; he may not be ready to dissect and analyse this growing feeling in his chest for Lan Jingyi, but he can do this until he figures himself out.
--
Jiang Cheng knows it’s not about the sex, not entirely anymore, at least for Jiang Cheng, but it still remains a fact that the sex is fucking excellent.
Case in point, Lan Jingyi has been all but begging for release for the last quarter of a shichen, but here he still is, being so good for Jiang Cheng, staying still because Jiang Cheng has asked him to, keeping count, because Jiang Cheng wants him to.
“Gege,” Lan Jingyi sobs, his cheeks flushed a vibrant, enticing red, lashes clumped with tears. His length lies hard and swollen against his stomach, leaking profusely. “Gege, I can’t anymore.”
Jiang Cheng kisses his brow. “Just a bit more, Jingyi,” he murmurs. “Get to ten, and you’ll get a reward, hmm?”
Lan Jingyi whines, but puts that good ol’ Lan-brand of determination to use, and nods. “Distract me,” he begs. “Kiss me, gege, kiss me?”
Jiang Cheng does. He tips Lan Jingyi’s chin up, and licks into his mouth, gentle. It wouldn’t do to oversensitise Lan Jingyi, not when Jiang Cheng still has plans for him.
He wraps his fingers around Lan Jingyi’s length again, and strokes.
“Seven,” Lan Jingyi breathes out, unprompted. He’s so fucking good.
“Good boy,” Jiang Cheng murmurs, and kisses him again. “Three more, and we’ll be done, Jingyi,” he tells Lan Jingyi. “Do you think you can handle that?”
Lan Jingyi whimpers. “Gege.”
“Do you want to stop?” Jiang Cheng asks. “We can stop if you want to, Jingyi, it’s fine.”
Lan Jingyi shakes his head. “I can do it,” he tells Jiang Cheng. “I can. Just don’t stop kissing me?”
“Okay,” Jiang Cheng tells him, and presses their lips together. Jiang Cheng had wanted to draw the remaining three strokes out, but Lan Jingyi has been so good for him, has done so well already, that Jiang Cheng takes pity on him.
Lan Jingyi whimpers into the kiss when Jiang Cheng’s hand moves again to give Lan Jingyi his remaining strokes. When they part, Lan Jingyi rasps, “Eight, nine, ten.”
“Beautiful,” Jiang Cheng says, swallowing against the urge to give voice to his more incriminating thoughts, the ones that scream that Lan Jingyi is his, his, his. “You’ve been good, Jingyi. You’ve earned your reward.”
Lan Jingyi’s mouth opens on a silent scream when Jiang Cheng sinks down on his cock. “Gege, I can’t-” His hips twitch with the urge to move.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to stay still anymore,” Jiang Cheng tells him.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t bottom often, but when he does, he enjoys it messy and sharp. Lan Jingyi gives him exactly what he’s looking for when he flips Jiang Cheng onto his back, and thrusts back into him, strokes uncontrolled and rough.
It doesn’t take either of them long to reach their peaks.
“I think you broke me,” Lan Jingyi says, voice hoarse, much, much later in the night.
Jiang Cheng huffs out a laugh, and kisses his hair. “Did you have fun?”
Lan Jingyi nods. “Did you remember to put up a silencing talisman this time, or do I have to hide in here all of tomorrow, and hope that everybody pretends they didn’t hear anything?”
Jiang Cheng did in fact remember to place a silencing talisman up, but… “I thought we decided after the last time that you would be in charge of the silencing talisman?” he asks, just to tease.
Lan Jingyi squawks. “Wanyin-ge!”
--
There is something difficult about letting Lan Jingyi leave, this time round.
Jiang Cheng usually bids Lan Jingyi farewell at the doors of Lotus Pier, but for some reason, he finds himself reluctant to let Lan Jingyi out of his arms this time. It doesn’t help that Lan Jingyi himself also looks like he’d rather be anywhere but at the steps of Lotus Pier, saying goodbye to Jiang Cheng.
“I’ll walk you to the dock,” Jiang Cheng offers, motivated to spend more time in Lan Jingyi’s presence.
Lan Jingyi brightens up at that.
He doesn’t hold Jiang Cheng’s hand, probably out of consideration that they are no longer afforded the privacy they have within the walls of Lotus Pier, but Lan Jingyi stays close enough that the back of their hands brush as they walk.
It bothers Jiang Cheng that that is their only point of contact. He eventually gives into the urge, and tangles their fingers together.
Lan Jingyi turns to look at him, but Jiang Cheng keeps his gaze straight ahead.
“You are full of surprises today, Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Jingyi says, swinging their joined hands between them, and starts telling Jiang Cheng about the case that he has been asked by Lan Xichen to deal with on his way back to Gusu.
It doesn’t take them long to reach the dock. When they do, Lan Jingyi falls silent again. His grip on Jiang Cheng’s hand tightens.
“Wanyin-ge…”
Jiang Cheng waits for Lan Jingyi to speak, but it quickly becomes apparent that Lan Jingyi cannot find the right words.
Jiang Cheng understands a little too well, if he’s being honest.
He wants to tell Lan Jingyi not to leave this time, to stay with him a bit longer. He wants to tell Lan Jingyi that he’s so close to untangling his mess of thoughts around their evolving relationship, but…how can he? What right does he have to tell Lan Jingyi to stay, when Lan Xichen has asked for him to return?
“Jingyi-”
“I-”
“You first,” Jiang Cheng tells him.
“You should see me to the border,” Lan Jingyi tells him firmly. He’s still holding onto Jiang Cheng’s hands tightly, and Jiang Cheng is similarly unwilling to let go. “Jiang-zongzhu wouldn’t want people to speak ill of the Jiang Sect’s hospitality, right?”
Jiang Cheng could not give less fucks about what other people think of his hospitality, and he knows how unwise it would be not to let Lan Jingyi go now — if he goes with Lan Jingyi to the border, he’ll want to make sure Lan Jingyi passes through Moling fine, and then the next thing he knows, he’ll be taking Lan Jingyi back to Cloud Recesses himself, and that’d-
That’d be too telling by far.
It’s the right thing to do, to let Lan Jingyi go now, even if it’s the last thing Jiang Cheng wants. At the very least, the walk back to Lotus Pier from here is short. Jiang Cheng can sulk about this in the privacy of his own home, instead of having to endure a long journey back from Gusu.
He squeezes Lan Jingyi’s hand lightly. “Be good,” he murmurs. Lan Jingyi’s face falls, and Jiang Cheng feels his chest tighten at the sight. His priority shifts; it becomes important that Jiang Cheng wipes that dejected look off Lan Jingyi’s face, and so he tugs Lan Jingyi into his arms, uncaring of the people who may be watching. “Travel safely.”
“Okay,” Lan Jingyi says, pressing his face into the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck.
“Don’t get into any trouble on the way,” Jiang Cheng tells him. “Don’t travel after sunset, don’t accept strange gifts from strangers on the road-”
“I get cursed one time, and nobody lets me forget it,” Lan Jingyi complains, huffing out a laugh.
Jiang Cheng smiles. “And come back quickly.” Come home to me soon.
Lan Jingyi goes absolutely still in Jiang Cheng’s arms. “What?”
“You heard me,” Jiang Cheng tells him, pressing a quick kiss to his hair before he steps back.
Lan Jingyi smiles widely. “Wanyin-ge,” he says softly, “I’ll be back before you even realise I’m gone.”
--
Jiang Cheng is surprised when the servant who brings him and Lan Jingyi their breakfast tells them that a messenger had sent word that a Lan entourage would be arriving at Lotus Pier within the hour.
Jiang Cheng tries to recall the reason for Lan Jingyi’s visit that Lan Jingyi gave him three weeks ago when he arrived, but comes up short. It wasn’t anything that really stood out, and it seems unlikely that the Lans would chase Lan Jingyi down to Yunmeng over a harmless prank or two, but Lan Jingyi looks spooked by the news of their impending arrival.
“I’ve done something bad,” Lan Jingyi blurts out, once the servants have cleared out of the room to let them have breakfast privately.
Jiang Cheng sets a meat bun down in Lan Jingyi’s bowl. “We don’t have time to mess around,” he reminds Lan Jingyi.
Lan Jingyi lets out a startled laugh at that. “Not like that,” he tells Jiang Cheng. He takes a bite of the meat bun, and says around it, “We really should think about that, though. I don’t know why we’ve never tried that! Incredible idea, frankly-”
“You had a point, Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng reminds him. “Get to it.”
Lan Jingyi swallows his food quickly. “I may have done something, and you may be really mad about it,” he says in a rush. “In my defence! I didn’t expect it to work! I didn’t think it would be so easy? It wasn’t supposed to go like that!”
“Jingyi.”
Lan Jingyi sets his chopsticks down. He actually sets his chopsticks down.
Jiang Cheng looks at him, ready to give him the proper attention that the matter seems likely to warrant.
“You know how a few nights ago I asked if I could stay here? For good?” Lan Jingyi asks, voice small. “I...may have written to Zewu-jun about it.”
Jiang Cheng blinks.
Officially, Lan Jingyi is Lan Xichen’s guanmen-dizi. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know all the details because it’s certainly not his place to ask, and it’s never really come up in conversations with Lan Jingyi before, but word has it that Lan Jingyi played a key role in Lan Xichen’s decision to come out from seclusion to resume his duties as sect leader. For Lan Jingyi to defect to Yunmeng Jiang…
Jiang Cheng cannot see Gusu Lan taking this lightly.
“Don’t get mad yet, I haven’t even gotten to the worst bit,” Lan Jingyi tells him. He slides off the stool, and onto his knees before Jiang Cheng. “So...I sort of stole your seal, forged your handwriting, and signed the letter off as you.”
Jiang Cheng stares at Lan Jingyi.
Is Lan Jingyi telling him that he sent Lan Xichen a letter from Jiang Cheng essentially seeking permission to steal Lan Xichen’s disciple away from him?
“Sorry!” Lan Jingyi says quickly. “Really! I thought… I thought… I really didn’t think it would work, even as I was doing it, to be honest? I thought it would be harder to get your seal from your study! But I just walked in and walked out with it just in my hands, and nobody stopped me?”
Of course nobody would have. Jiang Cheng cannot believe Lan Jingyi is surprised by this, considering how it’s been months since he’s had free rein of Lotus Pier. Who would’ve stopped Lan Jingyi from going into Jiang Cheng’s study? They would have thought he was sent there by Jiang Cheng to retrieve the seal for Jiang Cheng.
Lan Jingyi is still talking. “And I thought it would be harder to forge your handwriting! But I’m obsessed with everything about you, and that apparently included your handwriting as well, because it just...flowed so smoothly out of me? And then! I thought it would be harder to get the letter sent out, because I know Yuyi-jie checks through your correspondences sometimes before they get sent, but she just took it from me, and sent it just like that!”
Jiang Cheng feels a headache brewing, and closes his eyes in an effort to stave it off.
Even if the Lan Sect takes this colossal show of disrespect in stride, and allows it, Jiang Cheng can already see this becoming a problem. There would be people who would use this opportunity to try to sow discord between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan. It wouldn’t work, of course, because the Lans are reasonable, and Wei Wuxian would surely intervene, which means that Lan Wangji would intervene, but it would be a hassle to deal with.
And Wei Wuxian would never stop talking about this. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he’s ready for that.
“Sorry,” Lan Jingyi says. He tugs gently at Jiang Cheng’s robes. “You’re really mad at me, aren’t you?”
Jiang Cheng opens his eyes. “Jingyi,” he says. It’s the only word he can seem to manage. He doesn’t know what else he can say.
Jiang Cheng knows that while Lan Jingyi has done wrong in the circumstances, Jiang Cheng has some part to play in this as well. He was the one who let Lan Jingyi come and go as he wished. He was the one who allowed Lan Jingyi all these liberties, and spoiled the brat to no end.
Lan Jingyi had asked if he could stay. He had asked if he could stay forever.
And Jiang Cheng had said yes. Jiang Cheng had wanted him to, had imagined being able to keep Lan Jingyi by his side every day, had thought about not having to watch Lan Jingyi’s retreating back as he makes his way back to Gusu every two weeks.
He’d considered all of that, but not even a little about the political implications, and told Lan Jingyi yes; even though he’d thought Lan Jingyi was joking at that time, this is as much his fault as it is Lan Jingyi’s.
“Sorry, Wanyin-ge,” Lan Jingyi whispers, eyes wide and wet, deferential and small in a way Jiang Cheng has never seen, and never wants to see, in Lan Jingyi. “I’ve caused trouble for you.”
Faced with this, Jiang Cheng does the only thing he can do — he kisses Lan Jingyi.
Lan Jingyi clutches at him, and kisses back. He tugs at Jiang Cheng until Jiang Cheng slides off his stool to join Lan Jingyi on the ground. “Sorry,” he breathes out between kisses. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“Stop apologising,” Jiang Cheng tells him. Follows his words up with a sharp nip to Lan Jingyi’s jaw.
“But I-”
“Jingyi.”
“Yes, okay, I’ll stop,” Lan Jingyi says, and presses his face into the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck. “I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll explain everything when they arrive. I’ll clear the air.”
Lan Xichen will likely be coming; that is the best case scenario. The worst being if Lan Qiren were the one to lead the entourage.
Jiang Cheng cannot imagine Lan Jingyi getting out of this mess without some form of punishment, and finds himself in a predicament where he is oddly and incredibly stupidly protective of the man in his arms.
“Don’t say a word,” Jiang Cheng tells him.
Lan Jingyi wants to stay here. He wants to stay at Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng. He wants to join the sect, and stay forever. He’s made that clear to Jiang Cheng, and Lan Jingyi’s intent must be clear to Lan Xichen as well, irrespective of whose hand the letter was from.
And now that the first step has already been taken… Jiang Cheng could just run with it, take it to the end.
If things pan out well, Jiang Cheng gets to keep Lan Jingyi. If things don’t, they are not in a worse position than they would’ve been in even if Lan Jingyi tries to clear the air.
Mind made up, Jiang Cheng squeezes the back of Lan Jingyi’s neck. “Don’t say a word when they arrive,” he tells Lan Jingyi. “I’ll take care of it.”
--
“I received your letter,” Lan Xichen starts, smiling genially, once most of the Lan disciples that have come along with him have been led out by Jiang Cheng’s disciples to the guest quarters. “It came as a bit of a surprise.”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t allow himself to react.
Both Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren are in attendance; Gusu Lan is apparently taking this very seriously. As they should. Lan Jingyi is a remarkable talent, and a favoured disciple of the sect.
Jiang Cheng is mildly surprised that Wei Wuxian and his husband aren’t here — they’re probably off gallivanting somewhere again, and have yet to hear about this. There’s no way Wei Wuxian would miss the opportunity to watch this drama unfold.
“An understatement, if there was ever one,” Lan Qiren says from Lan Xichen’s side.
Lan Jingyi shifts uneasily in his seat.
“I apologise,” Jiang Cheng says calmly, “for being so abrupt.”
“We have not misunderstood your intentions?” Lan Qiren asks.
“I believe my intentions have been laid out clearly. It is what Lan Jingyi wishes. What he and I both wish,” Jiang Cheng tells him. “If there are any concerns, I am happy to address them, but I would ultimately be grateful if there was no opposition.”
Lan Xichen’s eyes twinkle. “Should I object, Jiang-zongzhu?”
Jiang Cheng shrugs. “I am in your hands, Lan-zongzhu.”
Lan Xichen’s smile widens. “Jingyi is family.”
Jiang Cheng’s instinct is to say ‘to me as well’; he bites down on his words. “He will be treated well in my sect,” he says instead. The Lans do not appear to be here to forcefully drag Lan Jingyi away, which means that they are likely here for reassurance instead. “All my disciples adore him.”
“And you?” Lan Xichen asks.
Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat picks up. He wonders if the situation is as transparent to Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren as it feels to Jiang Cheng. “I, too, will make every effort to ensure Jingyi will be treated well here.”
Lan Xichen arches an eyebrow. Lan Qiren’s frown deepens just a touch.
Jiang Cheng feels like he’s failed a test.
Like he’s failed Lan Jingyi.
It’s unsettling enough a thought that Jiang Cheng says, without thinking, “Jingyi is dear to me. I swear that he will suffer no hardship in my care, and above all, that he will be happy here.”
“Wanyin-ge…” Lan Jingyi says from next to Jiang Cheng.
He knows, Jiang Cheng thinks.
Jiang Cheng’s words were as good as a confession; everyone in the room would be able to read in between the lines, and decipher the meaning behind Jiang Cheng’s words for themselves.
Lan Qiren nods. “We’ll have to discuss the details of the wedding in depth,” he says. “We will not allow you to gloss over the ti qin process just with a letter. Lan Jingyi may not be as exemplary a disciple as I’d hoped he would one day become, but he is still a Lan. Frankly, I was not impressed with the way you’ve decided to ask for Jingyi’s hand in a letter.”
Jiang Cheng stills.
He could have sworn Lan Qiren said wedding. Which doesn’t make sense. Because...the Lans are here to discuss Jiang Cheng taking Lan Jingyi in as a disciple.
...right?
Lan Xichen’s lips curl, like he can read the panic in Jiang Cheng’s mind. “Plenty of time for that over dinner, shufu,” he tells Lan Qiren, and herds him gently out of Zilian Hall.
The moment they leave Zilian Hall, Lan Jingyi all but barrels into Jiang Cheng, almost off-balancing Jiang Cheng with the force of Lan Jingyi’s embrace. Jiang Cheng shifts to bear Lan Jingyi’s weight, and doesn’t stop him when he clings onto Jiang Cheng, squeezing tightly.
It is possible Jiang Cheng holds him back just as tightly. Had they spent the entire time discussing a wedding? Had they been discussing his wedding? His wedding to-
“Jingyi?” Jiang Cheng says, mostly lost for words.
“Say it again,” Lan Jingyi rasps, voice choked. He sounds teary. “Say it again, please, please, please.”
Jiang Cheng swallows. He knows what Lan Jingyi wants to hear. “You are dear to me,” he says quietly, honestly, and feels Lan Jingyi shudder against him. Lan Jingyi’s reaction makes Jiang Cheng feel brave enough to say, “The dearest.”
“Gege,” Lan Jingyi breathes. He’s smiling when he pulls away far enough to look Jiang Cheng in the eye. “Wanyin-ge, I love you. I really love you. I love you so much, do you know?”
Jiang Cheng sucks in a sharp breath, stunned.
“Did you not know, Wanyin-ge? Did you really not know?” Lan Jingyi asks. His smile turns a little more playful. “I was so obvious about it, too! I mean, the sex is good, but you’re like, fifth on my list, at best-”
Jiang Cheng barks out a laugh. “Lan Jingyi,” he says, so fucking helplessly fond.
Lan Jingyi smiles at him. “Would you like to practise your way up to being first, Jiang-zongzhu? I may not be many things, but I am always helpful, and willing to assist those in need.” He shimmies in closer, kisses the sharp of Jiang Cheng’s jaw, then the corner of his lips. “And it seems to me, Jiang-zongzhu, that you may have room for a lot of practise.”
“Mouth off some more, and I’ll send you back to Gusu,” Jiang Cheng tells him, but it’s an empty threat, given recent revelations.
“You won’t,” Lan Jingyi chirps. “You think I’m amazing! You just agreed to marry me!”
“Have I now?” Jiang Cheng murmurs. “I don’t think I have.”
With the knowledge that his feelings for Lan Jingyi are returned, with the thought in his mind of Lan Jingyi loving him, any talk of marriage seems a lot less daunting. He’ll get to marry Lan Jingyi. The Lans have agreed to it, Lan Jingyi wants it, and Jiang Cheng? Jiang Cheng has not previously dared to let his thoughts wander in that direction, but now that he’s allowed to, he finds that he wants it too, wants it terribly.
“I have witnesses!” Lan Jingyi is quick to remind him.
“Do you now?” Jiang Cheng asks, because it will never stop being amusing that Lan Jingyi is so easy to rile up.
“You can’t renege on your word,” Lan Jingyi says, throwing his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck, trapping him close. “Sandu Shengshou is an honourable man. He would never defile an honest disciple’s virtue only to abandon him.”
“This honest disciple barged into my room, and asked me to bed him,” Jiang Cheng reminds him.
Lan Jingyi sticks his tongue out at Jiang Cheng. “That’s not how I said it! My delivery was a lot more nuanced! Poetic, even!”
Jiang Cheng snorts. “It really was not.”
“Stop making fun of me,” Lan Jingyi whines. “This is my story, and your version is not how I will tell it.”
“Hm,” Jiang Cheng murmurs. The smile that stretches across his face is completely out of his control. “Guess I’m stuck with you forever then, huh?”
Lan Jingyi’s face turns serious. “I know I basically strong-armed you into this, and we’ve never really even had this chat about our feelings until, well, right now, and it’s a bit difficult now with Zewu-jun and lao-xiansheng involved, but we don’t have to get married, you know that right?” Lan Jingyi asks. “I’m happy with what we have right now. Really happy. If you don’t want to get married, we don’t have to do that. You don’t have to be stuck with me forever if you think it’s going to be a terrible ordeal-”
“Jingyi?” Jiang Cheng interrupts.
“Please tell me to shut up,” Lan Jingyi says.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng says dutifully. He kisses Lan Jingyi’s brow. “I don’t consider being stuck with you forever to be a terrible ordeal.”
Lan Jingyi brightens up. “Really?”
“You may be a menace,” Jiang Cheng says, “but I find that I have the capacity to put up with a lot of trouble, when it comes to the people I love.”
“Just tell me you love me like a normal person, gege,” Lan Jingyi complains.
“I was trying for nuance and poetry,” Jiang Cheng says dryly, to Lan Jingyi’s delighted laughter.
“Ah, fuck,” Lan Jingyi says, “I love you so much, Wanyin-ge.”
Jiang Cheng means to respond, he really does, because for the first time in a long time I love you seems like such an easy thing to say, but he finds his lips suddenly otherwise occupied.
Well, he did always favour acts over words.
--
bonus:
“Are you okay with this?” Jiang Cheng asks quietly. The words have been on the tip of his tongue since Jin Ling stepped into Lotus Pier this morning, but they’ve not had a moment of privacy until now.
Jin Ling sets his cup of tea down. “Why are you asking me?” he asks, frowning.
“He’s your friend,” Jiang Cheng says, “and I’m your jiujiu-”
“So?” Jin Ling interrupts. “Why should I have a say in your happiness? Why do you always-” he cuts himself off, visibly upset.
Jiang Cheng blinks, startled by Jin Ling’s outburst. “Jin Ling.”
“You’ve done enough, jiujiu,” Jin Ling chokes out, looking down and away from Jiang Cheng. “All your life, you’ve been doing things for other people. For Lotus Pier, for the Jiang Sect, for me. You’ve done enough.” His cheeks are flushed red when he looks up at Jiang Cheng. “You should get to make this decision for yourself. You should get to do this for you. Fuck what everyone else thinks, even me. Why should we get to decide whether or not you should marry Jingyi? You love him! He makes you happy! Nobody else’s opinion should fucking matter!”
Jiang Cheng moves his hands to his lap, mostly in an effort to keep Jin Ling from noticing the tremble in them. He clenches his fists tightly. “Watch your language, you brat,” he snaps, because the alternative would be to hug Jin Ling, and he’s sure neither of them are up for that now, with Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen now within view, making their way back to Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling.
“I’m not calling him jiumu, though,” Jin Ling grumbles, an afterthought.
“Well, you can’t keep calling me Jingyi, can you?” Lan Jingyi chirps from behind Jin Ling, grinning. “That’d mess up our hierarchy in the family! What about jiufu? How do you feel about that, Ling’er?”
“Call me that again and I’ll snap your legs clean off your body,” Jin Ling tells him.
“Wanyin-ge!” Lan Jingyi whines, looking at Jiang Cheng plaintively. “Do you see him threatening your beloved, gege? Do something about it!”
“Don’t fucking call my jiujiu that when I can hear you!” Jin Ling yells, shooting out of his seat to lunge at Lan Jingyi, who dashes away from the pavilion, Jin Ling hot on his heels.
Ouyang Zizhen grins at their retreating back, and then sits down next to Jiang Cheng. “I’d call him jiumu,” he whispers conspiringly to Jiang Cheng. “It’ll fluster Jin Ling so much. It’d be so funny, jiujiu, don’t you think?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head, but has to lift his cup to his lips to hide his own smile.
--
bonus #2:
“You’re not in Gusu anymore,” Jiang Cheng complains. “It’s really time to train your body out of keeping these hours.”
“Think about it this way, gege,” Lan Jingyi says from where he is braced above Jiang Cheng. His lips brush over Jiang Cheng’s jaw, then the curve of Jiang Cheng’s ear. “The earlier you wake up, the earlier your husband’s nubile body is yours to do as you wish.”
Jiang Cheng cracks an eye open. “As I wish?” he murmurs.
“As you wish,” Lan Jingyi promises.
-
“You are a terrible bully!” Lan Jingyi yells.
Jiang Cheng lets out a loud laugh, but slows his pace so that Lan Jingyi can catch up. It’s been awhile since Jiang Cheng has been on a morning run this early in the day, but he thinks he could get used to this, even if it’s mostly to tease Lan Jingyi.
“I thought Gusu Lans enjoyed their morning training.”
“In theory, yes,” Lan Jingyi says. “But in practise, my husband could have been training me a hundred different ways in bed this morning, and I am terribly offended that he chose to come out for a run instead.”
Jiang Cheng’s lips twitch. “I’m training your stamina.”
“My stami- My stamina?” Lan Jingyi demands. “Are you complaining about my stamina, Jiang-zongzhu?”
“Well, there must be a reason why you’re still ranked fifth-”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t manage to finish his sentence — Lan Jingyi throws himself at Jiang Cheng, knocking him over and down onto the grass, and catches his lips in a rough kiss.