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Chapter Text

The messenger was haggard and famished; he had been travelling hard for many days and nights, hardly pausing to sleep and not at all to eat. It was imperative, he said, that he arrive at the Gusu and gain audience with the leaders of the Lan Clan.

“The Wen clan has found the third piece of the Yin Iron,” said the messenger. “They are preparing an invasion of Gusu for the final piece. Make your preparations.”

The clan gathered, troubled.

“One thing is clear,” said Lan Qiren. “We’re not strong enough to withstand a war. We’d hoped to have more time to stockpile supplies, to train our cultivators, to complete our maps and strategise. They, on the other hand, will be ready to attack as soon as we give them an excuse.”

No one disagreed, though one or two of the younger members seemed to wish they could. (Of course we could take the Wen Clan; they’re just puffed-up petty tyrants really…)

“We have allies,” said Lan Xichen.

“Some. And?”

“If our allies make it clear that they would back us up, the Wen Clan might decide that it’s more trouble than it is worth - at least for now. We can buy the time we need.”

“The Jin clan won’t put itself out for us - it’s too risky,” said another cultivator, shaking his head. “And a show of strength from the Nie clan alone wouldn’t be enough to stop the Wens. We should focus instead on shoring up our own defences - improving the enchantments over the entrances to Cloud Recesses, continuing to recruit young cultivators…”

“What about the Jiang clan of Yunmeng?” said Lan Xichen.

Lan Qiren stroked his beard. “I had thought of them,” he said, slowly. “But since the death of Jiang Fengmian, it's ruled by Yu Ziyuan."

“It’s not as if she likes the Wen clan,” said Lan Xichen.

“But she’s unpredictable. Yunmeng is still untouched by these war rumours. Even if we could get a letter to them, Yu Ziyuan’s priorities aren’t the same as ours - she only thinks about the good of the Jiang clan.”

“Then we should make it a matter of good to the Jiang clan,” said a voice rarely heard among the mutterings and the arguments.

The room glanced at Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen’s younger brother. He stood, impassive as ever, near the edge of the group of cultivators, eyes trained on a point in the middle distance. Young as he was, he was taller than most; his posture was exact, his clothing precise. Something about the way he spoke - and he spoke ever so rarely - made the others in the room listen to him, even respect him.

“What do you suggest, nephew?” asked Lan Qiren.

Lan Wangji brought his attention back to the group. “Yu Ziyuan would never be persuaded by letters,” he said. “I suggest sending ambassadors directly to Yunmeng. Show them that we are still friends, and make it worthwhile for them to join us.”

Some more muttering (uncertainty - not enough time -)

But Lan Xichen smiled at his brother. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “I will go to Yunmeng myself. I can travel faster than even the fastest Wen soldiers. I can find out what it is that Yu Ziyuan wants most for her clan and offer it, in exchange for an alliance.”

Lan Qiren seemed wrapped in thought. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Xichen, you and your brother will go to Yunmeng. Then you may both be safe, should the worst come to the worst. While you’re gone, we'll shore up our own protections and strategise. Maybe - there are other ways to stall.”

He crossed the room and, in a rare display of affection, placed a hand heavily on his nephew’s shoulder.

“Good luck,” he said, and left the hall.

~

Wangji and Xichen made their way slowly to begin packing for the long trip.

“I’ve never been to Yunmeng,” said Xichen. “And since Jiang Fengmian’s death, the Jiangs go abroad so rarely - I was very young when the last delegation of theirs came to us. I imagine they won’t even remember our faces - we’ll be like strangers.”

Wangji nodded. “Strangers,” he agreed. “But soon maybe very close friends.”

Chapter Text

Wei Ying was in trouble again.

Jiang Yanli had come to expect it. In the twelve years Wei Ying had lived with them, she could remember perhaps five days when he had not in some way incurred the wrath of Yanli’s mother, Yu Ziyuan.

Well, and it was maybe understandable - even if both had been saints, the circumstances of his presence could hardly have endeared them to one another. Her husband had, after all, loved his mother - more than he had ever loved Madam Yu. But their personalities were in conflict, too: Madam Yu was a woman of rules, discipline, rigorous application to self-improvement. And Wei Ying was...

Jiang Yanli considered herself a sister to him, and she was the first one to give him credit where credit was due. Wei Ying, she always insisted, had a sweet, loyal nature, and he was full of generous impulses.

But he was…

Wild. Unmanageable. While Madam Yu loved routine, Wei Ying hated rules and restrictions of any kind. While Madam Yu schooled her family in creation and cultivation, Wei Ying seemed to break everything he touched. And while Madam Yu craved order, Wei Ying was never happy except amidst chaos.

There was no getting rid of him, either. Madam Yu had promised her husband on his deathbed to house Wei Ying until he married. She wouldn’t break her word to the honoured dead.

She had not, however, promised to treat him gently. For every outburst of his, there was a punishment from her. For every injustice she committed against him, he would lash out against her. His back was a maze of stripes and bruises; her face had acquired a permanent twitch.

Today, from what Yanli could gather, conflict had arisen from something he had said: “I don’t intend to ever get married.”

Yu Ziyuan had flown into a rage. “How dare you say that, you disrespectful rodent? You’ll marry when I say you marry, or face the consequences!”

“But Madam Yu, who’d marry me?” He was a halo of innocence.

“Any trash off the street is a good enough partner for you,” she spat at him. “You are street trash yourself.”

“I’d hate to marry someone I didn’t know well,” he’d said, slowly and deliberately. “Just look what happened to poor Jiang Fengmian!”

Madam Yu was so furious that he was able to use a valuable few seconds of speechlessness to skip from the room before she could summon her handmaidens to have him whipped again. They were hunting for him now, though, and so he came to Jiang Yanli, moderately penitent, to crave her protection.

Yanli knew Madam Yu only wanted Wei Ying to marry because of her promise to Yanli’s father; as soon as Wei Ying was married, he was out of her house, out of her line of sight, and out of her hair. But boldly flouting her in this way was its own kind of problem - a reminder of why she wanted him gone in the first place.

“Lie low for a while,” she suggested. “They’ll get tired of looking for you, and you can apologise properly later.”

Wei Ying sat on the floor of his sister’s room, his knees curled under his chin.

“She had no right to call me street trash,” he said. “It wasn’t my fault I lived on the street. I never did anything wrong.”

“She was upset, A-Xian,” said Yanli. “She wants you to get married and settle down, be protected and loved. It hurts her when you say you don’t want to.”

He rolled his eyes, and she sighed. They both knew the truth.

“It isn’t the only thing she calls me,” he went on, petulant. “Most often she calls me a rodent. The other day she said I was like a water shrew - sitting gnawing and venomous in her soul.”

Yanli almost laughed at the image of Wei Ying as a tiny red-toothed shrew, twitching his little nose.

“What’s wrong with being a shrew? I always thought shrews were cute,” said Yanli. “And they eat the bugs that attack crops.”

“She didn’t mean it as a compliment, jiejie.”

“No, I guess not.”

Something about his face hardened. It was an expression Jiang Yanli knew well - one that said "all right, if that’s what she thinks I am, that’s what I’ll be". She had a sneaking suspicion Madam Yu hadn’t seen the last of the red-toothed water shrew.

“Well, anyway,” he said, sitting up a bit. “I was right about one thing. No one will ever want to marry me.”

Jian Yanli thought about it.

Wei Ying was handsome - very handsome. At rest, he had ordinary quiet good looks; a square jaw, delicate lips, large eyes that carried a sparkle of laughter in them at the most serious moments. When he smiled, though, his beauty was blinding; it was like the sun breaking through clouds. People literally stopped in the street to look at him if he happened to laugh in public. It was an extravagant beauty, that smile - prodigal - unrestrained - dangerous.

True, he came from nothing. He would bring no honour, no money, no family to the house into which he married. But he was clever - an excellent cultivator for his age; an inventor; an artist. And he had been raised as the ward of a great house. Nothing about his background would have been a problem if not for - well - everything else about him.

He got drunk - daily. He set fires - often. He broke hearts - routinely. He broke bones sometimes - his own, and other people’s. He was energetic and loud; he started fights and made messes and played pranks and caused trouble. He simply could not be controlled. Yanli loved him; she also knew that outsiders would see him as a liability. The damage he had done to diplomatic relations with the Jins alone -

They didn’t talk about that day much, even among themselves. Wei Ying had certainly paid the price for his actions. Suffice it to say that the Jiang clan’s increasing alienation from the other cultivating families was not just because of Madam Yu’s isolationist philosophy.

Yanli often thought - she thought now - that if her father had lived longer, he would have made something of Wei Ying - taken the abundant raw material, shaped it, and turned his talents into skills, his good nature into good character. But if she thought about her father for too long, she would find it hard to bring herself back around to cheer and sociability, so she stood up and shook herself instead.

“Well, I don’t think marriage is something you have to worry about for the time being,” she said. “Let me make you some soup.”

Which just goes to show that, even with the best intentions, the future is unpredictable.

Chapter Text

The moon was setting when Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji landed in Lotus Pier. A few late labourers - bakers, fishermen, whores - peppered the streets on their ways to and from their various employments, but overall it was quiet. They could hear lapping water at their backs, and the calls of the water birds over the vast lake.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is here,” said Lan Xichen softly. “Look at the lotuses.”

There were thousands. The whole place was peppered with bodies of water - some natural, some artificially constructed - and it was the time of year for the water flowers to bloom, rich and full and beautiful. Lan Xichen looked as though he wanted to pluck one.

“It’s warm here,” said Lan Wangji.

“Very. Maybe we can find - ”

A sudden loud crack split the pre-dawn stillness, followed by a sharp cry of disappointment. A passing fisherman threw his cloak over his head and ducked into a doorway.

“What - ”

The shouting became more distinct.

“Jiang Cheng, if you’re not going to use it properly, give it to me!”

“Get off!”

“It’s coming back around! It’s coming back around!”

“I see it, I see it. Don’t rush me!”

“The ward will only hold it for so long - ”

Another sharp crack, accompanied with a sound of something like electricity. Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen exchanged a glance before running in the direction of the clamour.

In the town square, lit dimly by lanterns and the distant stars, three figures tumbled over one another. Two seemed to be young men, one dressed as best the eye could discern in black, the other in purple. The other figure was more difficult to make out; it seemed to fly or hover in the air, and was surrounded by smoke or dust of some kind.

“A night hunt,” said Lan Wangji.

The smoky figure expanded, momentarily engulfing the figure in black. The figure in purple yelled wordlessly, there was a flash of violet electricity and the same crack as before.

“Fucking OW, Jiang Cheng!”

“I can’t see where you are! Get out of there!”

“I’ll just yell and then aim for somewhere my voice isn’t! AAAAAAAAAA-”

“Shut up!”

CRACK! The smoke cloud dispersed and the young man in black re-emerged, holding a fist triumphantly in the air.

“Got a piece! If you can….”

“Look out!”

The figure in purple shoved the figure in black, hard; he went flying, out of reach of the weird smoky maw of the demon, which had dived to snap him up. Without missing a beat, the demon pivoted, and swallowed instead the man in purple.

“Jiang Cheng!!”

Lan Xichen whipped out his flute, a hair faster than Lan Wangji could produce his guqin. A few notes and the dust devil recoiled; it spun furiously, looking for the source of the sound.

Lan Wangji joined the melody - a repelling one, to push the demon away from its prey. It began to tremble violently. The brothers moved in closer, their music in a harmonic discord, and the creature’s movements became erratic - it zigzagged, tearing into walls and scattering pieces across the square.

With a cry of triumph, the second young man raised his arms above his head and made a tearing motion. The dust demon split in two, showering grains of sand and chunks of diseased undead flesh across the stones. The young man in purple emerged, coughing, and fell to his knees.

“Jiang Cheng!”

All three other combatants ran to where he was attempting to get to his feet. Lan Xichen reached him first. He held out an arm, and the young man seized it - their eyes met -

For a moment, for Lan Xichen, the stones of the square, the lotuses in the pond, the sand in his lungs, even the voices of the other men, dropped away. The man clutching at him seemed to grow to fill the universe with purple light.

Chapter Text

This is perhaps the best way to describe the appearance of Jiang Wanyin, the only son born of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan: his face was at all times a battleground between white-hot passion and ice-cold duty.

On the one hand, he had an iron jaw that bespoke restraint - thought - care. He had high cheekbones that froze his expressions in place. These things made him look stern and fierce and strong. He had also, however, a generous, full mouth that seemed made to be kissed, and eyes that danced with life. His skin was soft; his muscles underneath them seemed continually tense. His hair was a silken curtain; never a strand escaped its place. He was sweetness and snow, stone and sunlight.

This conflict met in the centre of his forehead. Even when he was pleased, he couldn’t seem to resolve the struggle of his expressions, and he ended by furrowing his brow into something between worry and disgust. Only the shape of that malleable mouth, which sometimes curved upward just on the one side, gave away how gentle he really was.

In short, he was hand-crafted to tantalise and capture the tender heart of Lan Xichen.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said, after he had gotten to his feet. Lan Xichen didn’t say anything, because he had yet to transport back from the world that had just come into existence for him - an imaginary world that he shared only with this tortured creature, and perhaps some sweet incense, in the crease between his eyebrows.

Who or what are you? he wanted to say. Are you a real man or a fantasy being? Were you born, or created just for me? He wanted to kneel on the ground and bow to him.

“What do you mean, thank you? We had it in the bag!”

The second young man - the one in black - pushed Lan Xichen aside and stood defiantly shoulder-to-shoulder with the other.

“And what did that music do? You messed it up - the pieces weren’t supposed to go everywhere like that!”

“Wei Wuxian!” hissed the violet young man. “Young masters, I apologise for my brother. I think the monster was some invention of his, and he wanted to conduct more tests before destroying it.”

“Destroying it? Are you kidding? It’ll take me weeks to remake it! If I can scavenge enough material, that is. It was supposed to just cleave in half, but now it’s everywhere!”

“Did you say you made that creature?” interposed Lan Xichen.

“We’ve had an influx of air spirits,” said Wei Wuxian. He was kneeling now, and sifting handfuls of blackish sand through his fingers, looking apparently for chunks. “I wanted something that could follow the currents…”

“But - but - your brother might have died!”

“Please ignore him,” said the violet man. He seemed to collect himself and he bowed. “Thank you again for your assistance. I’m Jiang Wanyin, of the Jiang Clan of Yunmeng. You two must be powerful cultivators.”

Lan Xichen bowed in return, and shook off a momentary daze that overtook him at the swish of Jiang Wanyin’s hair.

“I’m Lan Xichen. This is my brother, Lan Wangji. From the Lan Clan of Gusu.”

“Are you the ones everyone calls the Twin Jades of Gusu?”

Lan Xichen laughed. “I guess we are. I’m honoured that you’ve heard of us even in Lotus Pier.”

“I never heard that Jiang Wanyin had a brother,” said Lan Wangji, quiet as always. His eyes were fixed on the young man in black, who was cursing under his breath as his sand-sifting continually failed to yield him what he wanted.

“He was my father’s ward,” said Jiang Wanyin. “Wei Wuxian. The son of my father’s servant. We’re martial brothers, and we were raised together. He’s…”

“Got it!” shouted Wei Wuxian. He had a fistful of sand that looked, to Xichen’s eyes, like every other fistful of sand left behind by the creature. He produced a small bag and emptied his hand into it.

“...going to be in trouble,” said Jiang Wanyin, “if my mother finds out we went out at this time of night. If you don’t mind, please walk back with us - someone might be awake. We’d be delighted to host you on your journey.”

Chapter Text

“If you don’t mind my asking - what brings the Lan Clan of Gusu to Lotus Pier?” asked Jiang Wanyin as they made their way through the pearly grey dawn. The morning hovered between sleeping and waking. A little mist covered the ground.

“Friendship,” said Lan Xichen. “Friendship - and worry. A lot of things.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded, that eternal scowl between his eyebrows. “A lot of people have been here looking for our friendship, lately,” he said. “The world is getting dangerous. Friends are getting more valuable.”

Lan Xichen smiled. “You’re not wrong. That’s why we’re hoping to strengthen our friendship before - before it’s out of our price range. So to speak.”

“If you’re looking for friendship specifically against the Wen clan - ”

A pause.

“Yes?”

“It might be too late.”

Lan Xichen felt Wangji tense.

“I mean, it’s not like we’ve allied with them or anything. But I’m engaged - ”

It was Lan Xichen’s turn to tense.

“ - or - rather - I might be, soon - to one of their subordinates. Xue Chengmei. I don’t know how I would feel about forming an alliance that opposes them. If the engagement were to be finalised.”

This perfect being was engaged to be married. Lan Xichen tried not to show the despair in his face.

“Although,” Jiang Wanyin went on.

Hope?

“We received a message. Last week. The second young master of the Nie clan, Nie Huaisang, is apparently…also interested in marrying me. He’ll be here in a day or two.” Lan Xichen saw a flush creeping under Jiang Wanyin’s dark cheek.

“You’re popular,” said Lan Xichen.

Jiang Wanyin shook his head. “It’s my mother, more than me,” he said. “It’s all about alliances. I know that. Jin Zixuan is even showing interest. We all thought that he would never forgive us after the…” He glanced back at his brother, who was talking animatedly to a characteristically stoic Lan Wangji. “After something happened. But he wrote letters.”

“Letters?”

“Love letters. Wei Wuxian says that he had someone write them for him. He invited me to Golden Carp Tower, and when I refused, he came here - he’s been here for a month. I think my mother would like me to marry him, of anyone. But I’ve told her I won’t. I’m not stupid.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, the letters started right at the time the rumour was going around that the Wens had found the second piece of the Yin Iron. It seems pretty obvious that a marriage would be helpful to the Jin clan in the event of a war.”

He tailed off, and shot Lan Xichen a look.

“I’m boring you.”

“No, no,” said Lan Xichen, too quickly. “But out of all these people wanting to marry you, you like Xue Chengmei the best?”

Jiang Wanyin’s brow furrow deepened.

“Xue Chengmei has the least to gain from an alliance with us - the Wens are already extremely powerful. And I don’t like feeling bartered for.”

“Will you be able to make your own decision, in the end? Or will your mother decide for you?”

“I certainly can’t marry unless she agrees,” he said. “But then again, she can’t make me get married unless I agree.”

“So one of your…suitors…would have to convince both you and your mother.”

“I guess so.”

“If….”

“Xichen-ge,” said Wangji from a few paces behind. His voice had a note of warning in it.

It was all he needed to say. Lan Xichen shook himself - he was getting distracted. This wasn’t why he was here.

"Well, I hope you both make the right choice," he said lightly.

But it looked like the reason he was here was the reason everyone was here - to get the friendship of the Jiang clan. If it was going to be a competition, then he couldn’t risk being distracted, even by the most intensely beautiful creature he had ever encountered.

“We’re here,” said the intensely beautiful creature. “We’ll find you some rooms - I’m sure you’ll want to rest?”

And for the first time, he really smiled.

Chapter Text

That smile.

In the light of dawn, in the room that had been secured for him, Lan Xichen could finally find some release. He quickly stripped and got into the low bed, the image of the beautiful young man hovering in front of him.

Imagine -

if that young man knelt there, now, between his legs, one side of his mouth curved up in that half smile - there was a deep dimple just above his jaw that Lan Xichen could bend forward and cover with kisses.

Or would his face be scowling, as usual?

Either way -

He would bend his head and his hair would fall forward, partly shading his face. He would lick his lips, nervous, and he would say - he could say - what? He could say -

“I’ve never done this before, gege.”

Like that.

Lan Xichen began to stroke himself, hearing that voice in his mind.

“Gege -”

Fuck

Fuck

He knew it was wrong. Jiang Cheng was young - a stranger - and he was all but engaged to a subordinate of Lan Xichen’s enemy.

Engaged

But just imagine -

Imagine pushing him at the last second, so he tumbled backward. Then reaching out - pulling that purple silk robe away. Imagine it slipping from him, falling away under his fingers. Imagine, emerging, the supple arms, the curve and jut of his ribs; the soft hair tumbling wantonly over the white sheets -

Imagine fistfuls of that hair

A gasp - “Be gentle with me, gege” -

Oh, he would be gentle. Jiang Wanyin was like - what? - a flower? A blooming lotus. He would be tender - with his fingers, with his lips; the merest brush, the lightest caress of that skin - those taut muscles - that broad back - he could make him gasp for air, beg for mercy, all with utmost gentleness -

Fuck

~

Jiang Cheng paused at the door, which stood ajar. He stared. He wasn’t imagining it - Lan Xichen was naked, splayed out in the bed, and masturbating.

He almost dropped the tea he had been carrying back to his own room.

He should turn and leave. Respect his privacy. After all, everyone did this, didn’t they? A human impulse. It had been a long day for the poor man, and he probably needed to blow off some steam. He should leave -

But Jiang Cheng stayed paused.

In that moment, moving like that, Lan Xichen was without exception the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He was slender and graceful, soft everywhere he should be and like a cut diamond everywhere else, and his dick was….a miracle. Jiang Cheng’s hungry eyes chased a thick vein that ran the length of it, sometimes obscured by Lan Xichen’s hand.

He wondered what this Lan Xichen was thinking about, with his back arched like that, his head thrown back, his eyes shut, his lip caught between his teeth. His breathing was ragged and his throat worked.

A sudden tension. An open-mouthed pause.

Cum spurted from him. He let out a long, low, juttering sigh that Jiang Cheng felt in his own throat, like a dull knife, and then Lan Xichen’s shoulders relaxed. He was dripping with sweat; a strand of hair, plastered to his forehead, fell away. Any minute now he would collect himself and look up -

Jiang Cheng ran lightly to his own room and shut the door behind him. He almost threw the tea onto a low table, fumbled in his trousers, and began to touch himself, his eyes blurred with the sight he had just seen.

What had the beautiful man been thinking about, then, at that moment? What had he wanted so badly?

“Someday, let it be me he wants, like that,” he whispered fiercely. “Oh…fuck. Fuck. Lan Xichen. Please - let it be me you want.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was not an early riser, except when drinking or night hunting simply kept him awake all night. This night hunt had been almost a success, and he found his brain buzzing with ideas - it was far too late and far too early to go to sleep. So he settled next to his favourite pond and began refining one of his inventions.

He kept most of his things hidden now - except the failures, which he defined as “anything more likely to blow up than help”. These he left in fairly obvious places for Madam Yu to find. It did her good, he thought, to hold a bonfire every now and again, and it did him good to watch things blow up - especially when they blew up on Madam Yu.

This particular invention was a ward. He had a theory that a strand of hair woven into an ordinary spirit-repelling flag could make it a person-specific ward - though he was willing to try with strands of energy, as well. He had managed to get hold of a lock of Madam Yu’s - four hairs in total - and was conducting experimental research.

A noise made him look up. That second young master Lan (the silent brother) was emerging from a room he couldn’t have slept more than ten minutes in. His hair was clean, his white clothing spotless, and he carried his sword and an ancient guqin.

The sight of him irritated Wei Wuxian. He was so put together, so clearly without flaw - he looked like he had been sculpted and glazed, like a porcelain teapot. They had walked back together from town last night while Jiang Cheng was flirting with the first young master, and Wei Wuxian had done his best to be civil - despite his annoyance at them ruining his sand demon - but the second young master had hardly uttered a syllable. He sometimes said, “Mn.”

“Good morning!” called Wei Wuxian.

The second young master shielded his eyes against a dawning sun and his eyes focused on Wei Wuxian. He bowed slightly.

“Some early morning sword forms?” asked Wei Wuxian. It was the kind of thing Jiang Cheng would do.

Lan Wangji bowed again.

“Want a partner?”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian stood and brushed dust off his black clothes.

“What good is swordplay by yourself?” he said cheerfully. He didn’t have his own sword - Madam Yu had confiscated it after one too many mishaps. He did however have Jiang Cheng’s sword, Sandu, which he stole whenever he thought he could get away with it. He drew that now.

“What do you start with?”

A single muscle in Lan Wangji’s face, somewhere between his nose and his upper lip, flickered, ever so slightly.

Annoyance? Surely not. Wei Wuxian chose to believe it was amusement.

“Solo forms,” said Lan Wangji.

“Three whole syllables!” said Wuxian, delighted. “Well, we can do them together. I’ll help you if you get stuck!”

Lan Wangji flickered again, but he couldn’t stop Wei Wuxian from doing what he wanted - no one ever could. Lan Wangji did, however, begin with a rapid and extremely complicated form unique to the Lan clan - which he executed perfectly. Wei Wuxian got tangled in his own sleeves within three moves.

“No fair! I don’t know that one,” complained Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji ignored him and moved on to the second form in the sequence. Trying to follow this time, Wei Wuxian tripped over his feet and ended up in a pile on the ground.

“Asshole,” he said, when Lan Wangji continued to ignore him and completed the third form, with an elegant sweep of his sword and robes and hair altogether -

- and the early morning sun emerged from below the horizon in a blaze which caught him fully in midturn. He seemed for a breathless moment suspended in midair - a glowing white outline, almost translucent -

“Hey,” he said, when Lan Wangji finally seemed to have settled. The young Lan was sweatless, spotless, full-breathed - perfect. “I mean it,” said Wuxian, getting to his feet. You should teach that stuff to me. It looks great.”

Silence. Lan Wangji sheathed his sword, apparently satisfied with his morning warmup. Wei Wuxian sheathed Sandu, too.

“You’re here to marry my brother, right? Everyone is.”

“No.”

“All right, but you’re here to ally with the Jiang clan?”

Lan Wangji seemed to ruminate, and then bowed slightly.

“Listen, if you do something for me, I’ll give you a hint that might help you out. You wanna?”

Another flicker; this time Wei Wuxian was almost certain it was interest. He pressed his advantage, threw an arm around Lan Wangji’s perfect neck, and leaned in very close.

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “Fuck me and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Lan Wangji physically recoiled. He spun out from Wuxian’s arm, and his flashing sword was at Wuxian’s neck -

“Wei Wuxian!”

With her customary punctuality, Madam Yu had emerged from the house.

Chapter Text

It was said that the exceptionally beautiful children of Madam Yu got their good looks from their mother. She hadn’t been short on suitors herself after the death of her husband, but she had made it clear that she preferred to run her own clan, live in her own house, and raise her own children, without interference from anything as useless as a spouse. She was one of the women without whom the world would grind to a halt - capable, efficient, straightforward, organised, impatient, and utterly merciless.

(Lan Wangji noticed that Wei Wuxian almost flinched away from her - before catching himself and squaring his shoulders. I’m not afraid of you, he seemed to be telling himself. I’m not.)

She swept across the quad, her purple robes swirling around her. Several people shimmered in her wake: Jiang Wanyin, looking harassed; a kind-faced young woman; a pale and slender youth holding a very beautiful paper fan; a large man in Jin robes. And, behind them all, hanging back in early morning shade, a lovely, innocent-looking young man, wearing Wen robes and a single glove.

“You little bastard,” spat Madam Yu, as soon as she was within spitting distance. “You think no one can hear the disgusting things you say, right out in public?”

“Madam Yu,” said Wei Wuxian, pretending to be surprised and delighted. The hand holding Sandu twitched. “I’m honoured you pay so much attention to the things I do and say. I’m just a little water shrew, after all…”

“Get in the house,” she said. “Go to your room. If you enter my sight again today, I’ll set the dogs on you.”

This time, he couldn’t hide his flinch. But he regrouped.

“Madam Yu,” he said, “unless I mistake, the only dogs currently at your disposal are the esteemed emissaries behind you. If the Nie and Jin clans - ”

The whip flashed faster than the eye. Wei Wuxian’s body flew backward, ragdolling, and he crashed heavily into a pillar - he cried out in pain (well, half a cry, before he bit it back).

She can’t hurt me. She can’t.

“Your room, shrew.”

Wei Wuxian got to his feet, clutching his ribcage where the electric whip had caught him - his torn clothing fluttered in the morning breeze, and blood seeped through his fingers.

“Fuck you,” he said. “FUCK YOU. FUCK ALL OF YOU.”

He dodged the striking whip and drew his sword. Maybe he didn’t know the Lan forms, but he was deadly enough, even with a borrowed sword, and he was fast -

“A-Xian!” The kind-faced young woman stepped forward, arms outstretched.

For a moment, Wei Wuxian seemed to teeter on the edge of collapsing.

He stepped back. He sheathed his sword. He crouched and picked up the flag he had been working on. Then he gathered himself up and leapt - over the wall - he was gone.

Madam Yu hardly waited for him to be out of sight.

“I apologise for this unpleasantness, and for the language of that servant,” she said to the train of people behind her. “He was left to me by my late husband, and I can’t get rid of him until he marries. I’ve done my best to train him, but some natures are just too corrupt.”

Everyone exchanged glances. So this was why no one came to Yunmeng anymore.

“A bit extreme,” said the young man holding a fan, under his breath.

“His behaviour was offensive and unacceptable,” said the Jin disciple. “A wild young man like that - ”

“Well, naturally - did you hear what he said to second young master Lan…?”

“Young masters,” said Madam Yu, “if you will follow me - we’ll have breakfast laid out in the central pavilion. I hope whatever affairs we have to discuss can wait until we’ve all had something to eat.”

Chapter Text

Breakfast was served. Introductions went round.

The young man with the fan was Nie Huaisang, the second young master of the Nie clan of Qinghe - he had just arrived that morning. (Lan Xichen had frequently met his older brother and clan leader, Nie Mingjue.)

The Jin representative was Jin Zixun - from a slightly inferior branch of that clan. He was there with his cousin Jin Zixuan who, it seemed, was still asleep.

The sweet-faced young woman was Jiang Wanyin’s sister, Jiang Yanli. She wore simple clothes and spoke little - but Lan Xichen saw both honesty and intelligence in her expression. It couldn’t be easy, he thought, living in an environment like this.

Jiang Wanyin looked after her. When she talked he listened - when she needed something he got it. Their sibling bond seemed strong. So he was not merely beautiful but loyal -

Stop it, he told himself.

And the boyish Wen disciple, who even in the brightness of the breakfast pavilion seemed to find a shadow, was Xue Chengmei.

Maybe it wasn’t so much a shadow as a gap, an almost imperceptible space between him and Nie Huaisang on one side and Jin Zixun on the other. No one wanted to be too near him, or to be seen paying him deference - but no one dared risk outright rudeness. So he was mostly avoided -

Except, of course, by Jiang Wanyin, who made sure his plate and his cup were full, who spoke to him across the table, who even smiled for him once, not the one-sided smile but a generous full-mouthed grin that showed his deep dimples…

Stop it!!

“It’s been a long time since we’ve heard from the Lan Clan of Gusu,” said Madam Yu when everyone knew everyone. “Not too busy up in your clouds to come and mingle with the commoners when it suits your interests?”

“We’re here to serve you, Madam,” said Lan Xichen. “Anything you need.”

“Of course you are,” said Madam Yu. “Everyone here is ready to offer everything and anything I might want. There’s been a lot of offering, lately. I guess the only question is - who has the most to give?”

An awkward pause. Xue Chengmei and Jin Zixun eyed each other. Nie Huaisang fluttered his fan. Madam Yu sat back, looking satisfied with herself, and reached for her drink.

But after a moment, Lan Wangji cocked his head. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think that’s the only question.”

“Oh?”

“I beg your pardon. It’s not about who has the most. It’s about who has exactly what you want. So the question instead, from all these people ready to give you what you want, has to be - what is it you want?”

She laughed - the same kind of bark of a laugh Xichen had heard once or twice from her son.

“I like you, Gusu Jade Boy.” She stood, and addressed the table at large. “You all are here for my friendship - most of you under the guise of marrying my useless son. All right then. You want to form alliances? Let’s - ”

Whatever else it was she had been going to say, no one ever knew. Little things can change the course of history - small moments - the most minute difference in timing.

In this case, what changed the course of history was a huge explosion.

Chapter Text

Of course, it had been caused by Wei Wuxian. They couldn’t get it out of him whether he had caused it on purpose in a rage, or whether it had been a prank - forgotten or gone wrong - or an accident.

What was certain was that one half of a building collapsed - guest quarters. Jin Zixuan, emerging from his beauty sleep, got trapped under a heavy timber and broke his arm. A lavish gift the Nies had prepared for the Jiangs was irreparably damaged. It was a miracle no one died.

And Madam Yu, once she had dealt with the aftermath and with the perpetrator - efficiently, mercilessly, as usual - stood before her guests again with blazing eyes.

“You really want to help me?” she roared. Zidian, the whip, crackled in her hand. “You don’t have what it takes to help me. This is why the Jiang clan stands alone - because no one dares to do the one thing that might actually be of benefit to us: get rid of that creature.”

“You want him to die?” asked Xue Chengmei, very quietly.

“I want him gone, idiot!” she said. “Dead he would haunt me - him and Jiang Fengmian together. No, take him away. Train him. Tame him. But marry him.”

Marry.

Him.

The words landed like blows on the assembled ambassadors. Nie Huaisang actually gasped - almost a squeak.

“Once he’s married - and gone - and tamed - I will begin to consider your requests for my son - and my friendship. But not before. Work it out amongst yourselves.”

And she left, a trail of open-mouthed cultivators in her wake.

Chapter Text

It was dark by the time the doctors and servants and that nice young Lan master left Jin Zixuan’s room - they had all been at work healing, in their various capacities. Now there was just the one retainer - an elderly servant - and Jiang Yanli felt that it was her turn to heal, in her capacity.

Jiang Yanli had always been a weak cultivator - something of a source of stress to her mother. Madam Yu tolerated lack of skill only slightly more than she tolerated lack of respect. She had therefore all but written Jiang Yanli off after Jiang Fengmian’s death, and concentrated her pedagogical and parental forces on Jiang Cheng. On his part, he often said that he would have much preferred she ignored him, like she did his sister.

But whatever Jiang Yanli lacked, she at least had the ability to cook. And what with the hustle and bustle after the explosion, and what with all the healing energy being transferred and the music playing and whatnot, she wondered if Jin Zixuan had had the chance to eat.

He was sitting up writing with his good hand when she ducked into his room. He looked at her in surprise.

“Lady Jiang,” he said.

“I’ve brought you some soup,” she said. “To help you with your recovery.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

She set the soup down, bowed, and turned to leave.

“Your brother - ”

She sighed.

“ - would you tell me, is there a reason he rejects my advances? My mother wants me to marry him very badly. I think your mother wants it too. What’s holding him back?”

“I’m sorry, young master Jin - you’d have to ask him.”

“Do you think there’s someone else? Someone he likes more? I hear the men are settling like flies over this - place.” His distaste was clear. “If he’s going to reject me outright, I’ll leave. If he’s going to accept me, I’ll take him with me. Why can’t he do one or the other?”

“This place is our home, young master,” she said quietly. “If people are ‘settling’ here, they must see something here that they value. Perhaps it’s the fact that you don’t seem to value your time here very much that turns my brother off from you - I honestly don’t know.”

“How can I value a place where I get beaten up every time I visit?” he demanded, sitting up straighter. A fine blush diffused his cheeks - he had a very beautiful complexion, and the pink bloomed there like a drop of dye. “You can’t convince me that Wei Wuxian didn’t do this on purpose to get back at me.”

“I’m not sure that he didn’t,” she admitted. “Or that I would blame him.”

She was astonished at herself - to say something like this to her brother’s suitor! But looking at him, she always felt a lump in her throat, and an urge to slap him and then soothe him. She had been until now very good about repressing that urge - about keeping calm and keeping her distance from someone who made it easy by always ignoring her anyway.

I just wanted to bring him soup.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Forgive me. I’ll leave. Please enjoy the soup."

This time, he didn’t try to stop her.

Chapter Text

“I guess our job here is done,” said Jin Zixun gloomily. “Or rather, over.”

He sat in the courtyard with the young Nie master, and, slightly apart, Xue Chengmei. They had dug up some liquor out of the ruins of the guest quarters and were drinking hard around an open fire; Xue Chengmei had also produced a truly remarkable quantity of sweets. He offered one now to a faintly dubious Jin Zixun.

“It wasn’t a real offer, was it?” said Nie Huaisang. “I mean, she can’t have meant it?”

“Of course she didn’t mean it,” snapped Jin Zixun. “She’s trying to get us all to leave. She’s tired of trying to juggle potential alliances and control her own family at the same time - her own clearly out-of-control family.”

“I just got here, though,” said Nie Huaisang.

“Well, congratulations, you’re being kicked out. We all are. Otherwise why would she tell us to marry Wei Wuxian?”

“I admit that I like Wei Wuxian,” Xue Chengmei said. “He’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s crazier than I am.”

“Would you marry him?”

“Of course not.”

“See?”

“I’m going to marry Jiang Wanyin,” said Xue Chengmei, smiling. The smile made the other two scoot back half an inch and take another drink.

(Xue Chengmei was very pretty, but if you believed even one of the stories you heard about him, you would find his elfin smile terrifying.

Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixun believed all of the stories.)

“Sure,” said Jin Zixun, “wouldn’t we all like to think that our clan will get to marry Jiang Wanyin? But we can’t. No one is going to marry Jiang Wanyin now.”

“We’ll run away,” said Xue Chengmei around a mouthful of candy. “Who needs Madam Yu?”

“The Jins do. The Nies do. Probably the Lans do, now. You really think the Wens are going to be happy with you if you go back with no alliance - or at least non-interference agreement - with the Jiang clan of Yunmeng?”

“It would stop us from doing it,” said Nie Huaisang, slowly. “No one allying with the Jiang clan is probably better for the Wens than…than one of us allying with them.”

Xue Chengmei laughed. “You really think the Wen Clan of Qishan gives a shit what you do? All four of you together wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”

“Well, all right, but you’re not here because of Jiang Cheng’s cute butt, Xue Chengmei,” said Jin Zixun. He had had a lot to drink, and he got unsteadily to his feet. “Who needs Madam Yu? You do, you - creepy fuck. So you’re just as screwed as the rest of us, whether you want to admit it or not. She’s basically said ‘fuck off’ to all of us and gone back in her little cocoon. We should all just give up and go home.”

Xue Chengmei stared into the fire.

“Maybe you’re right that I need her,” he said. “And if you all decide to give up and go home - all the better for me. But there’s always an angle, you know. And there’s one thing you haven’t considered.”

“What?”

“...Jiang Cheng does have a really cute butt.”

Chapter Text

Lan Xichen and his brother went for a walk after dinner. They had spent the better part of the day helping the doctors tend to the injured - contributing music and spiritual energy. One of the doctors had said, “It’s a pleasure to work with Lan cultivators again. There aren’t any better healers - nor musicians - in the world.”

But now they had time to discuss what Madam Yu had said. It was puzzling them both.

“Wei Wuxian can’t leave the house until he’s married, I think,” said Lan Xichen. “From what the servants were saying, that was part of Jiang Fengmian’s will. Very strange.”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you think the offer is a real one?”

“I think she wants him gone, certainly.”

“It seems hard on him. Though, of course, he did blow up that building. Perhaps it's hard on her, too.”

"Mn," said Lan Wangji. It was always hard to tell with him, but for a moment he seemed angry - maybe the aftermath of the explosion had been harder on him than he let on. Lan Xichen often had to remind himself how young his brother really was.

“I wasn’t there this morning - what did he say to you that embarrassed her so much?”

To Lan Xichen’s astonishment, Wangji actually blushed. “Some - shameless nonsense,” he said.

“Well, either way.” It didn’t seem to be the time to explore that topic. “We didn’t come here to arrange marriages.”

“Right.”

“But.”

“But.”

They took a few steps in silence.

“Even after only knowing them a day, it seems obvious Jiang Wanyin is the favourite child,” said Lan Wangji. “The real alliance then will be between the Jiangs and whoever marries Jiang Wanyin.”

“But no one can marry Jiang Wanyin” did my voice stutter over the words? “until Wei Wuxian is married.”

“That also seems obvious.”

“Maybe it doesn’t matter who marries him. Wei Wuxian, I mean. Maybe we can write home, find some - some single Lan woman?”

“And ask her to marry him?” said Wangji. Again, he seemed angry. What was it about Wei Wuxian that made Lan Wangji boil like this?

“It does seem like a hard thing to ask,” said Xichen slowly. “He’s - ”

“Shameless. Wild. Untamed.”

“Jiang Wanyin would be in every way a much better - ”

Wangji shot him a look.

So Wangji knew. He had clocked Lan Xichen’s attraction to Jiang Wanyin. Lan Xichen had been, it seemed, painfully obvious. It was his turn to blush - he turned his head away.

“I mean, I agree with you that marrying Jiang Wanyin would be the way to ally with these people,” he said. “Plus, it seems like it would be a lot more pleasant than marrying the - what has Madam Yu been calling him?”

“A red-toothed shrew.”

“Right.”

“If you want to pursue Jiang Wanyin, you should,” said Wangji. “It's a good idea. But you can’t forget why you would do it.”

“Of course. To serve Madam Yu and gain her friendship.”

“Exactly.”

“It does seem like she would be grateful to the clan that takes Wei Wuxian off her hands - but the same reasons that she would be are the reasons it would be difficult to find someone like that.”

“Especially if - as she said - she expects his future spouse to tame him.”

“He doesn’t seem very tameable, does he?” said Lan Xichen.

His voice wasn’t unkind - he didn’t mean any harm to Wei Wuxian. But there was just the tiniest corner of his mind that remembered the way he had let his sand monster eat Jiang Wanyin.

“Maybe if he were a little younger,” he went on thoughtfully. “But he’s a full-grown man. If he hasn’t learned discipline now, there’s only so much even our uncle could do with him.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry to Madam Yu, but finding someone willing to marry him seems out of the question. We’ll have to think of some other way to - ”

“I will do it.”

Chapter Text

“Leave me alone,” said Jiang Cheng, pushing Wei Wuxian's friendly arm away from his neck. “Get off. Go away.”

“Are you still mad about the guest quarters? What, did you design them yourself? Were those your hand-painted birds on the screens?”

It was more important than ever that he act brave, like nothing was wrong. He couldn’t let on that he had been more terrified that afternoon by Madam Yu’s whip than he had ever been, even of a dog - they had taken Sandu from him and held him down, and only the ward he had tucked into his under-robe had kept that whip from killing him. And that had probably been luck, and it hadn’t worked completely; he was still sore and shaking all over. He couldn’t stop hearing the sizzling crack of that whip in his ears.

“No,” said Jiang Cheng. “I’m just sick of you pestering me about this. Every day it's like, 'who do you want to marry, Jiang Cheng?' and 'how many of these guys have you actually fucked, Jiang Cheng?' and I just want you to shut up.”

“Is it Xue Yang? You were saying something about Xue Yang the other day to that young Lan master. The nice young Lan master, not the asshole.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Oh, but didn’t you hear? One of these people is going to have to marry me! I just want to make sure I’m not stealing your favourite boyfriend!”

It was a joke, of course. Saying “marry Wei Wuxian” was the same as saying “go to the end of the rainbow” - he knew no one would actually do it, or even consider it.

“Fuck off, Wei Ying.”

“Is it the second Nie master? He could paint fans, and you could hang out with his brother. I hear his brother’s really hot - the two of you could practice swordplay.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Get it? Practice swordplay?”

“Shut up. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, maybe not the second young master. If you’re fucking the Jin peacock, though, I swear - ”

“It’s not the goddamned Jin peacock, and I’m not answering any more questions.”

“You know your mommy would love you to fuck the Jin peacock. She wants little peacock grandbabies for her and Madam Jin. Why those two didn’t just marry each other to begin with, I’ll never…”

“I’m not going to fuck the Jin peacock.” Jiang Cheng pulled himself together. “Come on, Wei Wuxian. You know I don’t like him either.”

“Okay, okay. And you are so right for that. I assume it’s not his cousin either. Then - oh, my god, I bet it’s one of those pretty, pretty, pretty Cloud Recesses boys. They’re a little late to the game, but I have to admit I couldn’t keep my eyes off them.”

“I know, Wei Ying. Everyone fucking knows. You propositioned Lan Wangji in front of four other clans today and made Mother lose her temper.”

“If it’s Lan Wangji you like the best, you can have him,” said Wei Wuxian. “He’s got such a stick up his ass nothing else will fit in there. Although, maybe if you bottom?”

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, gross.”

“Then again, you were batting your eyelashes pretty hard at Lan Xichen on the walk back this morning. He’s hot as hell - that jawline! I bet you’d let him put his stick up your…”

Jiang Cheng actually drew his sword, recently restored to him, and Wei Wuxian skipped back, laughing.

“Oooh, touched a nerve? I’m going to tell Xue Yang you’re cheating on him with a Twin Jade.”

“You’re a petty son of a bitch and you’re jealous because Lan Wangji wouldn’t fuck you and you’re going to die alone,” said Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian finally stopped talking. Jiang Cheng scowled, and then looked sorry.

“Too far. I’m sorry, Wei Ying. But you know it gets under my skin when you do this. I cannot express to you how much I don’t want to talk to my brother about which guys I want or don’t want to fuck.”

“One of these days you’re going to have to answer,” threatened Wei Wuxian.

“Not if I have to wait for you to get married.”

“...Yeah. You’re probably right.”

He cobbled together a smile and wandered off into the night to look for lotus seeds, finally leaving Jiang Cheng in peace.

Chapter Text

There were two men by Wei Wuxian’s favourite lotus pond - two slender figures in pale blue that almost glowed in the moonlight. They were talking animatedly, though in low voices, and, as Wuxian had hardly ever heard a full sentence from Lan Wangji, he crept behind a bush to listen.

“I’m not asking you to do this. No one’s asking you to.”

“You don’t have to. It’s the right thing to do.”

“How can it be the right thing to do? Or even a sane thing to do?”

“Because - this was all my idea. It’s right that I see it through. For everyone’s sake.”

“You’d make yourself miserable, for everyone’s sake?”

“I’m not going to be miserable.”

“What you’re proposing - as you just said - would be difficult for anyone. It would be torture for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a model disciple. You’re careful, routine, precise.”

“Exactly. I am the reasonable choice.”

“You’re also very young, A-Zhan, and you have…”

“I’m not a child.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. He recognised that tone: a younger brother fighting to be recognised by an older sibling. It was a defensive, indignant, petulant tone - Lan Wangji had actually sounded petulant. In fact, for a second, he had sounded like a human being.

Ha! What a ridiculous concept.

Lan Xichen sighed. “I know you’re not a child, Wangji, that’s not what I’m implying. I just don’t want you to live your life like Father did. That’s all.”

“You’re comparing our…?”

“No, no. No. But I’m asking you to think very carefully about your future. Do you think you could ever find love? Do you think you could go back to Cloud Recesses, even? Don’t sacrifice half of what your life has to offer on a whim. We can find another way.”

“We don’t have time. This is only the first step - we have to be able to take the next one, and the next.”

Lan Xichen was silent for a moment. He didn’t seem to have a rebuttal, but he didn’t look any happier either.

“I’ve made my decision,” said Lan Wangji finally.

“At least take the night to think it over.”

“All right. But I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

The two of them moved away. Wei Wuxian extricated himself from his bush and watched them leave, glowing in the moonlight.

He was burning with curiosity. They hadn’t given any indication what they were talking about - it sounded like something horrible. Were they going to kill Madam Yu? Burn down Yunmeng? Practice some dark art like mind control?

Imagine those pure, beautiful Gusu Jades doing something that destructive. They must really be desperate.

That’s kind of hot.

He grinned to himself. Obviously he would have to hear more - follow them - maybe sneak into Lan Wangji’s room and listen if he talked in his sleep -

What?

Or, maybe, he would just find out tomorrow. After all, there were lotus seeds to eat.

Chapter Text

When Wuxian left him, Jiang Cheng began to make his way back to his own room, biting his lips and scowling. Of course, Wei Wuxian’s attacks were all scattershot - bound to hit something - but that didn’t mean it stung any less when they did.

You were batting your eyelashes pretty hard at Lan Xichen.

Damn.

He’s hot as hell - that jawline!

Well - true. The image of Lan Xichen’s naked body splayed out and sweaty filled Jiang Cheng’s head; he hadn’t been able to think about anything else all day. When he’d met Lan Xichen at breakfast, and Lan Xichen had greeted him pleasantly in his deep, soft voice, Jiang Cheng had almost -

“Jiang Wanyin!”

He jumped. He didn’t want company, not with this image in his head; he wanted to get to his room, fast - and alone.

But Xue Chengmei emerged from the shadows, like he always seemed to do. He seemed off-balance, and his eyes were particularly bright.

“Xue Yang,” said Jiang Cheng.

Xue Yang lurched over to him, seized the back of his neck, and kissed him, hard.

“Baby,” he said. “C’mere. I missed you.”

“Hold on, hold on,” said Jiang Cheng, pulling away. “Not out in public…”

“But I missed you!” said Xue Yang. "And I want you!"

“Shh!”

“Right here, right now. I want you so bad. I want you so bad, baby.” He bit the side of Jiang Cheng’s neck, right at the corner of his jaw, under his ear. “Come on, baby, just a little taste…”

“You’re drunk, Xue Chengmei.”

“I want you whether I’m drunk or sober,” he said. “Come on, please? It won’t take long. I promise. I’m so ready for you.”

He grabbed Jiang Cheng’s hand and pressed it between his own legs. Sure enough, Xue Yang seemed to be…very ready. Alcohol notwithstanding.

“Wow,” said Jiang Cheng, despite himself.

Xue Yang took that as permission. He began to grind against Jiang Cheng’s hand, and to moan and writhe.

Ah, what the hell, thought Jiang Cheng. It’s not like I’m not already horny.

“All right, all right,” he said. “Let’s go inside, at least.”

“No. Outside. I want everyone to know…you’re mine, Jiang Cheng. They can’t have you. They can’t have you….right?”

He was drunk, but the flash in his eyes wasn’t all alcohol. He pulled at Jiang Cheng’s clothes and his own. He seemed genuinely to want to fuck right here, right now.

Jiang Cheng, however, was both strong-minded and just strong. He seized both of Xue Yang’s hands and twisted until they were angled away from him, and Xue Yang was whimpering at arm’s length.

“Inside,” he said sharply, “or not at all.”

This time it was Xue Yang who pulled away, extricating himself from Jiang Cheng’s grip. He pouted at first, and then looked angry.

“Well, fuck you too,” he said. “I just wanted to show you a good time. And don’t even lie to me - you want me. I can see how hard you are from here.”

Jiang Cheng blushed furiously and tried to hide himself with his sleeve, before giving up.

“Of course I want you. And I’ll give you everything you want inside that building. Yes? Or no?”

“Fuck off,” said Xue Yang. He turned indignantly, if a little unsteadily, and staggered off around the corner.

Maybe he was expecting Jiang Cheng to call him back. Maybe Jiang Cheng would have done so. He did turn toward his room again, but then started to turn back -

And locked eyes with Lan Xichen, who stood frozen a few metres behind him.

“Young master Lan!”

“I’m sorry,” said Lan Xichen. “I was just heading to my room, and I heard your voice….I thought maybe something was the matter.”

How much did he see? Fuck, how much did he hear?

He didn’t need to ask. He saw it in his face. Lan Xichen was well-bred and kind, but he couldn’t hide his embarrassment. He had seen - or heard - enough.

“No, no, nothing’s the matter,” he said. “Xue Yang is just - drunk and stupid. I mean, he’s being drunk and stupid. Right now.”

“That doesn’t excuse….” Lan Xichen shook his head slightly. “It’s none of my business, of course. Is there anything you need?”

You.

“No, nothing. Thanks. I’ll - I’ll see you tomorrow.” He frowned.

Lan Xichen took a tiny step forward. “I - ”

“What?”

“Good night, Jiang Wanyin.”

“Good night, young master Lan.”