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Chapter Text

“How many times?” Jiang Cheng howled at his nephew.

“How many times have I told you not to give Fairy too many treats? Do you want me to break your legs?”

Jin Ling, for his part, looked sincerely repentant that he had gone against his uncle’s express instructions not to overfeed his dog.

But the stubborn pride that Jiang Cheng was absolutely sure was inherited from his peacock of a father and the boy’s personal brand of pig-headedness meant that he wasn’t going to take the reprimand lying down.

“But Jiujiu,” Jin Ling cried back. His lips started to wobble in a tell-tale sign that he was about to put on a show of dramatics. “Fairy was being good! She helped me capture and exorcise that spirit! Jiujiu listen!”

Jiang Cheng had to sigh because that much was true.

Fairy did prove her worth once more in his nephew’s successful, if rather exciting, recent night hunt. And she seemed to know it, too. She was contentedly heeled by the boy’s side, tongue lolling out, and her plump, furry body wholly content to bask in the loud attentions of her master and master’s uncle.

Such a good, good girl.

Momentarily distracted by thoughts of how Fairy (Jiang Cheng’s best girl. Yes she was. Who was the best? Fairy!) could have come from Jin Ling’s other traitorous snake of an uncle, Jin GuangYao, Jin Ling was able to somehow mentally summon reinforcements to shield him from his uncle’s wrath.

Like small, human-sized tufts of clouds drifting too close to the ground, several GusuLan junior cultivators were soon surrounding the uncle-nephew pair in a blinding wash of snow-white robes.

They seemed happy about Jin Ling’s recent success.

Lan SiZhui and Lan JingYi were especially determined to congratulate the younger boy.

Unused to positive attention from people his age (of people of any age, if Jiang Cheng were being honest with himself) the foolish boy tried to bluster his way around the compliments.

While Lan JingYi responded to Jin Ling’s usual bravado with teasing barbs of his own, SiZhui petted Fairy on the head and weathered his two companions’ loud personalities with the serene equanimity that marked him as the generation’s model student of the GusuLan sect.

The Lan boys resembled two other men Jiang Cheng knew when he was their age so much that he had to take a moment to collect himself.

Jiang Cheng shook his head. That was neither here nor now. Nor ever.

He gathered the annoying emotions that were threatening to spill out and shoved them in some dark forgotten corner of his mind where he kept all of his other troubling thoughts and furtively scanned the area.

Wei WuXian and his partner Lan WangJi didn’t always accompany the Lan junior cultivators during night hunts, but they both seemed to have a soft spot for these two specific boys. It wasn’t unusual to see them following in their wake.

It was enough of a habit that the adults had accidentally run into each other a couple of times too many when their charges were having one of their impromptu inter-clan junior cultivator get-togethers.

(Jiang Cheng could not for the life of him figure out how or why the fuck this batch of juniors of the various sects seemed to get along so well with each other, but he was constantly being bombarded with evidence of it as he somehow kept getting elected to be their babysitter.)

The short, clipped conversations he and Wei WuXian were forced to share during those instances were civil enough. They were just two senior cultivators, talking shop and about their charges. But they paled in comparison to the brotherly banter that he and Wei Ying had once shared.

Jiang Cheng always had to suppress the twinge of regret that accompanied those conversations.

Too much time had passed and not enough wounds were healed. It made him want to grit his teeth in frustration at all the things that weren’t being said, but it was what it was.

Lan Wangji was no help either.

He was absolutely hopeless, in fact.

One would have thought that time and exposure to Wei WuXian would have made him more expressive, or driven him to assert his opinion once in a while at the very least to counter his partner’s wild exuberance.

But no such luck on that front.

Lan Wangji simply stood still as a statue watching over the juniors, content to let Wei WuXian carry their end of the conversation. It was a good day when he uttered something more than a “Mm” of assent to whatever his partner said.

Jiang Cheng had to roll his eyes at several memories that came to the fore.

Hanguang Jun was whipped.

He threw away whatever respect and dignity he had won in his many battles when he took up with Jiang Cheng’s disgraceful Yiling Patriarch ex-adopted brother, in Jiang Cheng's opinion.

Jiang Cheng, in contrast, wasn’t a coward.

But he also wasn’t stupid enough to corner himself into another awkward position.

If Wei WuXian and his jade spouse was hanging around somewhere nearby, then he would be taking his nephew and booking it back to LanlingJin post-haste.

It wasn’t a retreat.

It was a tactical move.

Yeah.

Since he was already expecting it, Jiang Cheng wasn’t surprised when Wei WuXian, practically hanging off Hanguang Jun’s body like some cheap hussy, descended onto the small outcropping where everyone was gathered.

The GusuLan juniors quickly quelled their rowdy celebrations to bow in respect to their seniors.

Even Jin Ling had, for once, stopped running his mouth and bowed with a reverence that he had never shown his own uncle (the one who had raised him when he was barely even an adult. Not the shady snake shit or the demonic bastard with designs for martyrdom).

There was a tiny hint of a blush staining the boy’s cheeks, for fuck’s sake.

Chagrined, Jiang Cheng found it physically impossible to keep from rolling his eyes.

The brat was more trouble than he was worth.

Once the juniors had finished greeting the newcomers, it was inevitable that Wei WuXian would spot him. Jiang Cheng’s violet robes made him stand out from the lush vegetation surrounding them, after all.

He was steeling himself for another round of their weird, stilted song-and-dance conversations where many things were said but many more things were not said when the sound of playful yipping cut through the air.

It made Wei WuXian stiffen and look frantically around to find the source.

Surrounded by the masses of swirling white robes, Fairy’s not inconsiderable size had been concealed.

Wei WuXian hadn’t seen her sitting right by Jin Ling and Lan SiZhui, so he was unprepared for his soul to try and forcefully exit his mortal body when the junior cultivators moved aside to reveal the happily barking dog.

The ear-splitting screech Wei WuXian let out was both pathetic and also music to Jiang Cheng’s ears.

The infamous Yiling Patriarch threw the entirety of his lanky body at Lan WangJi (who was unnervingly unfazed that his partner was making such a racket over a cute puppy) and tearfully begged him to “GET ME OUT OF HERE, LAN ZHAN! LAN ZHAN LAN ZHAAN LANZHAAAAAN!”

Lan WangJi obligingly floated them up in the air on Bichen, away from any terribly adorable pups.

What-fucking-ever.

It took a while before the shrill screams faded, and he cherished every single ear-splitting note.

Snickering, he called Fairy over to him.

As the junior cultivators (most of whom were also used to Wei WuXian’s disgraceful antics) moved on to discuss the hunt last night, the ignored puppy obediently trotted over.

Scrubbing a fond hand over her scruff and around her ears, Jiang Cheng praised his best girl over and over.

Looking over his shoulder to make sure that Jin Ling and the others were still distracted talking amongst themselves, Jiang Cheng reached into his robe for a dog treat and fed it to Fairy.

Unsatisfied with just one, the sly creature whined and bopped her nose into Jiang Cheng’s open palm, begging for another treat.

Jiang Cheng tried to resist, but he could never say no when Fairy’s flooffy little face and sad eyes looked so imploringly at him.

“You’re taking advantage of my kind heart, Fairy,” he murmured.

Checking behind him once more to make sure that no one was watching — Jin Ling was rather close by, but if he made any comments about this, Jiang Cheng would just threaten to break his legs — and gave Fairy another treat.

The delighted spiritual dog yipped and rolled on her back and Jiang Cheng somehow found himself giving her a belly rub.

“You seem to get along very well with your dog, Master Jiang,” a soft voice intoned just up ahead of Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng snapped his head up and was alarmed to see the other Twin Jade of GusuLan smiling down at him while he was in an undignified crouch, giving his baby a belly rub.

Coughing to hide his embarrassment, if not the blush that he knew was steadily creeping up his neck, Jiang Cheng quickly stood.

Since he was so focused on Wei WuXian's arrival, he must have missed the former Lan sect leader land with the rest of the GusuLan party.

Absolutely embarrassing! 

“Zewu-Jun.” Jiang Cheng stiffly greeted the man, refusing to make eye contact lest he saw the judgment in the other man’s eyes for acting so unbecoming of a leader of a major sect. “It’s good to see you well.”

Coming out of his stiff bow, Jiang Cheng picked Fairy up, grunting a little as she was getting a little too heavy, turned around, marched to his nephew and took Jin Ling by the ear, and promptly tried to vacate the premises with as much dignity as the Jiang Sect Leader could muster when he was carrying an overgrown lump of a puppy on one arm and hauling an overgrown lump of a bratty, irritated nephew in the other.

Jiang Cheng was going to remove himself to YunmengJiang. 

Then he would try to drown himself in the dockside water and, also, not a little bit of embarrassment so he'd never have to face the honored Zewu Jun again.

Yeah, good plan.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng grimaced as he watched his nephew alternate between speaking softly to Lan SiZhui and trading irritated barbs with Lan JingYi.

He was pretty sure the increasingly frequent visits to Cloud Recesses was because Jin Ling was — ineptly — trying to court one of the GusuLan junior cultivators.

It was fan-fucking-tastic.

The fool boy had inherited none of his grandfather’s famed charms and all the flirting aptitude of his dumbass peacock father.

Which, Jiang Cheng could remember vividly, was basically non-existent.

Seeing him fall all over himself to make himself look more impressive for his crush was causing Jiang Cheng to roll his eyes back even more frequently. He was a little worried his eyes might get stuck that way, soon.

To make matters worse, Jiang Cheng couldn’t figure out which Lan was the unfortunate target of his nephew’s affections.

Was it the soft-spoken WangXian adoptive spawn (who on his own was a nice boy that Jiang Cheng could grudgingly approve of. But he had the unfortunate circumstance of being closely related to the two most aggravating men Jiang Cheng had the misfortune to ever meet) or the troublesome tumor that had likewise grown on and attached himself to the little disgustingly cutesy family his ex-brother and brother-in-law had going on that was making his nephew act more like a mess than he usually was?

He supposed he should count his blessings.

Before narrowing the suspects down to the two older boys, Jiang Cheng had a horrible not-realization that the GusuLan visits might have been sparked by a more-than-friendly interest in Wei WuXian.

Jin Ling did show himself in the past to have a soft spot for the form Jiang Cheng’s ex-brother currently occupied. And it couldn’t be denied that Mo Xuanyu’s body possessed a certain appeal that all of Jin GuangShan’s progeny, bastard or not, seemed to share.

The thought had set him off his dinner the first time around, and, much later, it still hadn’t lost its creepy potency.

He set down his bowl of surprisingly well-spiced GusuLan food and took a deep draught of hot tea to steady himself. What he wouldn’t give to have some Emperor’s Smile right now to dull the thought of that from his brain.

“Is the food not to your liking, Sect Leader Jiang?” Lan XiChen inquired from his end of the table.

“No, no. It is nothing, XiChen-xiong,” Jiang Cheng remembered to address the older man in the way he said he preferred even as he brought his hand up to pinch his nose in an effort of drive away a Wei WuXian-induced headache. He wasn’t even here and his ex-brother still found ways to drive Jiang Cheng up the wall, albeit indirectly. “Your hospitality is excellent as always. Thank you.”

Lan XiChen appeared to accept Jiang Cheng’s weak deflection.

He nodded and continued eating in the sedate pace his clan was known for, apparently untroubled that it was he, yet again, who had to entertain the passing Jiang Sect leader and Jin Sect leader for the time being while his erstwhile brother was off with his partner on a night hunt who-knows-where.

It was the lack of Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi’s presence that let Jiang Cheng’s paranoid brain conclude that the visits up the sect mountain weren’t from a misguided attraction to Jin Ling’s (twice-over) uncle.

These seemed too perfectly timed for it to be that.

Without the Yiling Patriarch vying for the juniors’ attention and Hanguang-Jun to keep everyone in line, Jin Ling was free to associate with Lan JingYi and Lan SiZhui as much as he pleased.

So that was one potential train wreck averted. But it still left Jiang Cheng with the problem of which boy to give the shovel talk to.

He wasn’t even excluding Jin Ling from the list because, as his keeper, Jiang Cheng was well aware of his nephew’s many shortcomings. As it was, it seemed the safer bet to give the shovel talk to both Lan JingYi and his nephew and spare Lan SiZhui from the future headache.

Ruminating on the fuckery that a respected sect leader like him was reduced to trying to manage his nephew’s love-life, Jiang Cheng decided to get advice from the only other responsible adult regularly around.

“XiChen-xiong,” Jiang Cheng began. Lan XiChen looked up from his meal, apparently open to breaking the GusuLan sect’s ‘no talking while eating’ rule, to hear him out. “As a respected cultivator, I would like to ask for your insight on a matter.”

The small smile that bloomed on Lan XiChen’s face was dazzling. It momentarily distracted Jiang Cheng from the conversation and he almost missed the incline of the other man’s head urging him to continue.

“Of course. I will do my best to assist.”

A little flustered by what he was going to ask help about, Jiang Cheng faltered for a second before deciding to just muddle his way through it.

He would like to think that Lan XiChen and he had built some sort of friendly rapport over the span of the last few visits to Cloud Recesses, and he didn’t seem the type to mock another person for being overly involved in his nephew’s personal life.

So Jiang Cheng went for broke.

“How can you tell when someone likes someone else?”

The question seemed to catch Lan XiChen off-guard as he stilled his movements. His eyes, which had been looking straight at Jiang Cheng, widened incrementally before he decided to inhale his food through the wrong pipe.

When Lan XiChen began choking in earnest, Jiang Cheng practically flew to the other side of the table to frantically thump his back.

The noise drew the attention of everyone else eating dinner and Jiang Cheng felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He wanted to scream at someone but was well aware that that wouldn’t help Lan XiChen. So, he concentrated on trying to help the other man.

Jin Ling, upon seeing his strict uncle knock over several dishes and even the teapot itself in panic while trying to pour Lan XiChen tea so he could drink, cackled remorselessly.

Tcch. After this, Jiang Cheng was going to break that little traitor’s legs.

By the time the other man could breathe properly again and regained his composure, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed and too aggravated to continue his original line of inquiry.

Exploding at his nephew for conducting himself so disgracefully, Jiang Cheng cut the visit short and told Jin Ling they would be leaving immediately.

(But not before he dropped off the Yunmeng spices and lotus seeds he had packed for that lay-about Wei WuXian. They had a good harvest that year. No need to waste the excess when he had heard that the former Yiling Patriarch was missing the taste of YunmengJiang cuisine.)

Having to face Lan XiChen again after that dinner was painful (he even confined Jin Ling in his rooms without his friends to keep him out of further trouble) but the other man seemed to have taken the entire choking incident in stride and graciously agreed to pass the goods to Wei WuXian.

Before the conversation could progress further than that, though, Jiang Cheng excused himself to grab his nephew and beat a hasty, tactical retreat down Cloud Recesses.

Jin Ling was in uncommonly high spirits as they traveled back to YunmengJiang. He was probably so happy because the devil spawn had witnessed his uncle make a fool out of himself in front of so many people. Especially in front of Zewu-Jun.

Somehow, Jiang Cheng thought bitterly, this was all Wei WuXian’s fault.

Chapter Text

Jin Ling was not sick.

Jiang Cheng could tell as much.

As the boy’s primary caretaker since practically his birth, he knew to watch out for the signs that he was falling ill or when he was faking an illness to get himself out of trouble.

In this instance, Jin Ling was definitely faking so hard his pants should have been on fire.

Jiang Cheng had gone along with the brat’s charade, however, because it allowed him to observe his nephew with his other junior cultivator friends.

Lan JingYi and Lan SiZhui were definitely sick.

Though the attack that had hit them wasn’t fatal or particularly dangerous, it had still sapped them of much of their spiritual energy; they would need a couple of days to recover and get back on their feet.

So, here they were in YunmengJiang recuperating.

(And don’t think Jiang Cheng hasn’t noticed that they were here as often as Jin Ling was at GusuLan. They even had “designated” guest rooms already and the servants barely batted an eyelash at their presence!)

Once he figured out that none of his friends were in actual danger, Jin Ling had stopped bawling and, very unconvincingly, fallen ill, as well.

It was shameful. A travesty.

If the brat wanted to be anything else besides a cultivator, then Jiang Cheng couldn’t, in good conscience, recommend theater.

Jin Ling had coughed and played at being delirious when they weren’t even the same symptoms his worn-out friends were showing.

Good gods, but who was he fooling?!

The boy had gotten what he wanted, though.

Right now, he was camped in between the two older boys on two beds which had been hastily pushed together to make room for all three. Jin Ling was feigning weakness and feebly asking his uncle to take care of him, too.

Jiang Cheng had gritted his teeth at the audacity of the boy but also spooned him a serving of soup to shut his whining up.

The racket was disruptive.

It wasn’t good for the actual sick people resting by his sides.

Once they finished the simple fare, Jiang Cheng knocked the boy down to lie still for the night.

He also spared a moment to try to figure out if Jin Ling was leaning a little bit more to Lan SiZhui or if the long sleeve of his sleeping robe was skimming along a little too closely to Lan JingYi’s prone form.

Frustrated that he couldn’t figure it out, Jiang Cheng let out a huff.

Fuck this.

As a sect leader, he had to inform LanlingJin and GusuLan of the situation. And that wasn’t going to get done while he was here speculating who his fool nephew was enamored with.

When Jiang Cheng came back to check on the three thorns on his side later that night after sending the message to Hanguang-Jun, he noted that the two Lan junior cultivators had barely moved from their sleep.

His little demon nephew, however, was lying in disarray.

It was almost as if he had not been previously lying down.

As if he had been doing something else, but hastily thrown himself on the bed when he had heard someone coming.

Aha!

Jiang Cheng was finally going to solve the puzzle of which Lan boy was unfortunate enough to be the object of Jin Ling’s awkward affections.

As he shuffled closer to finally give his nephew the stern talking-to he obviously desperately needed about proper manners and not taking advantage of sick friends, Jiang Cheng felt like he might explode once more.

Because while it was true that Jin Ling’s arm had found itself a little too much into Lan SiZhui’s personal space, the brat’s leg had also gone over a little too close to Lan JingYi’s leg.

Jiang Cheng stood fuming over the bedside, thwarted and twitching in impotent frustration.

Jin Ling cracked an eye open. He must have sensed the killing intent his uncle was radiating and decided to investigate, if only to preserve his own hide.

“Uncle!” Jin Ling hissed. “What are you doing here? It’s creepy!”

“You—!” Jiang Cheng started, making a move to grab his nephew’s legs and possibly finally break them like he kept promising.

But the impudent boy only shushed him and told him to be considerate of the sick people resting in the room.

Feeling like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him, Jiang Cheng stomped out of the room as quietly as he could.

When Jiang Cheng got the reply from LanlingJin and GusuLan the next day acknowledging his missive about Lan SiZhui and JingYi’s whereabouts, he was aggressively spoon-feeding lotus pork rib soup to the three (two sick and one NOT sick) boys.

Strangely, the responder from Cloud Recesses wasn’t Lan Wanji but his brother, Xichen-xiong.

Jiang Cheng figured it was because Hanguang Jun was once again off the mountain on a hunt with his partner and couldn’t be bothered to take care of sect affairs.

He scoffed.

That was just the kind of terrible influence Wei WuXian exerted over even the most well-bred and righteous of people.

Shameless!

Picking up a napkin and wiping at a speck of lotus soup from Lan JingYi’s slack, weary face, Jiang Cheng testily gritted out, “and Zewu Jun says that he hopes you all feel better soon.”

Hearing his nephew snicker at his antics with Lan JingYi, Jiang Cheng took up the soup spoon once again and unceremoniously shoved it in his nephew’s mouth.

Finally, some quiet.

Chapter Text

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN THESE PAST THREE MONTHS?!”

Jiang Cheng bellowed with the force of three months’ worth of accumulated worry and frustration as he burst into the ruins of the dilapidated temple.

Zidian's violet lightning crackled around him and the wrecked doors to reflect his ire.

It had taken the combined resources of the four major sects to figure out where Wen Ning, Lan SiZhui, Lan JingYi, and Jin Ling had disappeared to months before.

And then even more work had to be done to figure out how to reverse-summon them without causing an apocalypse in the process (all of which were Wei WuXian’s ideas).

After some very tense weeks working together with GusuLan’s wonder couple, holding back on strangling Nie HuaiSang for his general incompetence because it was his sect’s forbidden library texts that produced the best leads to the missing boys’ whereabouts, and warding off the vultures trying to take command of Koi Tower while also running YunmengJiang sect, Jiang Cheng and company had finally found an incantation that could possibly be useful.

Or not so useful.

It was about to collapse on itself and kill everyone on the mountain when Wei WuXian, overflowing with crazy demonically cultivated energy began to herd the ambient qi into something resembling the portal described in the forbidden text.

Hanguang Jun, proving that being married to Jiang Cheng’s idiot ex-brother hadn’t dulled his famed cultivation skills, had then used his guqin to stabilize the entire mess long enough to yank the four missing people from whatever hell dimension they’d gotten sucked into.

While all that was happening, however, Jiang Cheng had to stand around by the sidelines, uselessly holding onto Nie Huaisang; the coward had fallen over in a dead faint the moment he realized that the portal wasn’t going to blow up the Qinghe mountainside (and him along with it).

It was irritating to be playing keeper to Nie HuaiSan but, for all of his Zidian’s usefulness here, Jiang Cheng was pretty much on the same boat as the unconscious Nie Sect leader.

It was a blow to his ego.

Three months into the disappearing act and LanlingJin and YunmengJiang were still standing, but all Jiang Cheng’s sleepless efforts were once again being thrown in his face by Wei WuXian and his partner pulling some impossible bullshit Jiang Cheng was pretty sure was forbidden for a reason.

Typical.

Ugh.

He couldn’t even talk to Lan Huan.

In the long months searching for Jin Ling and the other junior cultivators (and Wen Ning, but he wasn’t particularly invested in saving the ghost general), Jiang Cheng had been left to make sure two entire major sects didn’t fall to anarchy.

YunmengJiang was already enough of a headache, but trying to balance it with keeping the cutthroat LanlingJin sect in line was next to impossible.

He had found himself leaning a lot more on Lan Huan's stalwart presence those dark days.

With his ex-brother and brother-in-law busy poring through the secret Qinghe texts in Unclean Realm and Lan QiRen once more taking over the reins of GusuLan Sect while they were away, Lan Huan had volunteered to assist with LanlingJin.

His prior experience with Jin GuangYao, he stated, made him uniquely qualified to handle things at Koi Tower with Jiang Cheng.

It must have hurt to go back to a place that held so many painful memories, but Lan Huan had conducted himself with his usual smiling grace every step of the way.

So, in this, Jiang Cheng had kept his thoughts to himself.

The partnership between the two men was born out of practicality, but if Jiang Cheng were being honest, he was simply being selfish in keeping him around.

He wasn’t strong enough to say no to the prospect of someone to keep him company those long nights he wasn’t sure he was going to get his nephew back.

Right now, Lan Huan was the farthest he had been from Jiang Cheng in the past three months.

He was busy leading a handful of senior GusuLan cultivators acting as Hanguang-Jun’s backup and keeping Wei WuXian from exploding himself via all the demonic energy coursing through him.

The group was on the far end of the ruined courtyard so Jiang Cheng could barely make them out from the swirling demonic energy except as blobs of white against the harsh rock faces of QingheNie.

What Jiang Cheng could see, to his eternal torment, was Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi floating above the ground and making eyes at each other while casting the reverse summon spell.

He couldn’t help the violent roll of his eyes because he was willing to bet the entirety of Lotus Pier and his clan’s honor that the mid-air spin Wei WuXian performed while tooting his damned Chenqing and the musical flourishes Lan WangJi kept adding to the song while their eyes were dramatically locked on each other was completely unnecessary.

Dropping Nie HuaiSang’s deadweight none too gently on the ground, Jiang Cheng plopped himself down on a nearby boulder and tried not to look like he was sulking too much.

If this was going to take a while, he might as well wait it out sitting down and distract himself from the ridiculously shameful display Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi was putting right in front of him.

Like, he could decide whether he’d wring Jin Ling’s neck first before breaking his legs or break his legs first and then wring his neck when he saw him again.

In the end, Jiang Cheng had gone with neither choice.

When Jin Ling looked up from where he was standing around uselessly in front of a huge boulder that looked out of place in the temple ruin, Jiang Cheng had rushed at him to take him by the shoulders and violently shake the fool boy.

He shook the brat so hard that all he could see was a blurry, wet version of his nephew.

Jin Ling, the overgrown crybaby, immediately started to bawl. “Jiujiu! You’re here! Please stop crying!” He hiccupped.

“I’m not crying, you’re crying!” Jiang Cheng cried back.

Jin Ling gave up on trying for human speech then and dropped his sword so he could cling to his uncle.

It startled Jiang Cheng because comforting hugs had never been part of their uncle-nephew dynamic, but he welcomed the embrace regardless.

He even forgave Jin Ling’s disgraceful sobbing right by his ear.

If he went deaf on that side, he’d break the brat’s legs, but not right now. Right now he concentrated on rubbing his sobbing boy’s back.

Jiang Cheng breathed out a sigh.

His A-Ling was home.

Chapter Text

It was a madhouse in LanlingJin district.

The high street leading up to the grand entrance of Koi Tower (done up with golden lanterns with the sparks-amidst-snow motif in preparation of the Jin Sect leader's birthday celebration) was overflowing with people: Affluent merchants, enterprising street vendors, harried servants, and beggars sitting on the sides with empty bowls in front of them, all vied for space on the thoroughfare.

The rude press of the crowd jostled Jiang Cheng this way and that, doing nothing to improve his already sour mood.

While he was proud that Jin Ling was taking an interest in Lanling Jin clan matters and had volunteered to personally oversee the preparations for his 16th-year celebration with his grandmother, it meant that Jiang Cheng had a lot of time to himself.

As just an honored guest of the LanlingJin clan.

Where he was once sure of his place as the uncle who vigilantly watched over the Jin clan heir, Jiang Cheng now found himself floundering. What did one do when you were simply a participant at a high profile celebration?

He hated the idleness.

It left Jiang Cheng with the familiar feeling of inadequacy that had never completely left when he was young and had no one to truly rely on as he painstakingly rebuilt Lotus Pier and his decimated sect on his own.

It felt like he wasn’t doing enough — contributing enough, being useful enough — for the only blood relative he had left.

Jiang Cheng sighed.

In an effort to shake the dark thoughts swirling around and threatening to lead him to all-too-familiar dark places, he had stepped out onto the streets of Lanling for a walk. The fresh air could hopefully clear his head.

That was over an hour ago, however.

And, clearly, a mistake.

A couple dozens steps further and another rude passer-by going the other way clipped him on his shoulder.

Jiang Cheng had half a mind to summon Zidian’s violet coils and start flogging people, damn the collateral, but as he turned, he realized that Fairy, who had followed him, was a little way back, wagging her tail at random people.

Jiang Cheng could only make out the spiritual dog because the large puppy was forcing people to swerve around her in order not to trip and clogging up the path in general.

Jiang Cheng tutted fondly.

She was the most adorable roadblock if there ever was one.

But, honestly, Jin Ling kept spoiling her. She was now so massive people were mistaking her for a shaggy, over-fed wolf.

They should really put her on a diet.

Sensing that she was being called, the giant puppy bounded over. There were some screams and a shrill, high-pitched screech that reminded Jiang Cheng of Wei WuXian when Fairy suddenly moved her mass through the busy throng towards her master’s uncle and sat herself right in front of him, but he paid it no mind.

Fairy was such a cutie.

Jiang Cheng just wanted to snuggle up into her thick fur and pet her all day.

He wanted to carry her all the way back to Koi Tower and do just that, but he knew he had to remain strong.

Fairy was officially on a diet!

Carrying her back would be counterproductive — and really tiring.

While thinking about what to do, Jiang Cheng absently reached for the inside of his robe to grab a dog treat and fed it to his best girl.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Master Jiang Cheng.”

Pulled from his musings, Jiang Cheng belatedly noted the flowing, pristine white-and-sky-blue robes had followed in Fairy’s wake. Lan Huan stopped just short of where Jiang Cheng had been dithering on the crowded street and offered a warm greeting.

He looked good today.

Not a hint of the tightly wound stress he was under when they had been searching for the boys over a month ago.

The chance meeting pulled a small uncharacteristic smile from Jiang Cheng’s face.

The circumstances weren’t so good back then, but he had to admit, he missed the man’s constant presence now that the crisis was over.

Standing back a little, Jiang Cheng made to return Lan Huan’s greeting and bow, getting a strange feeling that this had happened before, but was stopped by Lan Huan’s hand landing lightly on his arm.

“No, please.” He said. “The formality is unnecessary. Please call me Lan Huan — have we not been through much these past couple of months?”

A little touched that the honorable Zewu Jun would view him and Jiang Cheng on equal terms, Jiang Cheng felt considerably lighter than before.

And when Lan Huan reached down to give Fairy a fond pat on her head, something knotted and horribly tangled in Jiang Cheng’s chest unfurled.

It was a strange feeling that left him adrift like when Jin Ling insisted he be the one to take care of his own party’s organization.

Only this one made him feel it in a good way.

Not knowing what else to do, Jiang Cheng had motioned that he was going to keep walking.

Lan Huan nodded in understanding and kept pace, Fairy obediently trotting behind them.

On the short walk back to the apartment area of Koi Tower, the two men caught up and discussed what had happened in their respective districts in the past month.

Mere trifles.

But Jiang Cheng was pleasantly surprised when Lan Huan expressed his interest in how Jin Ling was doing — an interest that stretched beyond simply checking in on another sect leader.

Not many bothered to see Jin Ling as more than Koi Tower's very young master.

In fact, much of Jiang Cheng’s source of irritation stemmed from people who couldn’t understand that he was a boy — a young man — that had interests and a personality beyond his station.

Granted, it was an obnoxious brat of a personality and his interests leaned towards dangerous excursions with his not-boyfriends (and one Ghost General), but Jiang Cheng was trying to look on the bright side here.

The conversation became a little strained, however, when Jiang Cheng found that the attachment to the boy was born from the times Lan Huan had visited Koi Tower and helped Jin GuangYao look after a young Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng bit his lip and admonished himself for the gaff; fumbled for a way to gracefully move the topic to the formerly pleasant conversation.

He should have remembered that Jin GuangYao, for all his faults and the trouble he had caused the cultivation world, had still been Lan Huan’s sworn brother.

But, just like he understood Jiang Cheng’s intention to move out of the press of the crowd, Lan Huan had smiled and smoothly directed the conversation to lighter topics until they reached the entrance to Jiang Cheng’s apartment.

He hadn’t noticed that they had walked that far.

Huh.

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng said, not without a trace of awkwardness in his voice still. “We’re here.”

Turning to Lan Huan, Jiang Cheng noted how his brow was furrowed, as if trying to untangle a complex piece of music.

He must have not meant to walk this far.

“Lan Huan, I see that I have taken up much of your precious time. Please forgive me,” Jiang Cheng said a little stiffly. By his legs, Fairy tangled around him like a giant cat and let out a small whine, as if sensing the abrupt dip in his mood.

Lan Huan was full of surprises, though.

“Oh!” He said. “It wasn’t any trouble at all. I had just been wondering about the odd way the apartments had been assigned, that’s all.”

At Jiang Cheng’s confused face, Lan Huan continued, “You see, the GusuLan party was rather spread out through the complex. My accommodations are right next to yours.”

He pointed a little ways down the area to the closest apartment to indicate his rooms.

“And the one attached to mine was given to Didi and Wei WuXian,” Lan Huan explained.

“Ah, so they must have arranged it so the Jiang and Lan parties were close together.” Jiang Cheng reasoned. It was odd, but he couldn’t fault Jin Ling for trying to reconcile his uncle and ex-brother.

He was going to be a good clan leader.

Jiang Cheng felt a little proud.

But he also hoped that he wouldn’t be so transparent in his ploys in the future.

“Quite so.” Lan Huan agreed, but there was an unfathomable look in his eye. “I just wish that I didn’t have to have the adjoining apartments to my brother.”

At the admission, Jiang Cheng was on alert.

Lan WangJi was a stalwart, if stuffy, man; he wouldn’t be bothering Lan Huan.

Wei WuXian, on the other hand, was another story.

Jiang Cheng knew that from painful experience.

He was about to ask if Wei WuXian was harassing his brother-in-law or being too much of a nuisance in their place of rest, but movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him.

On the other edge of the tree line some distance away, Jiang Cheng spied the distinct golden figure of his nephew. Standing a few paces to his side was someone in GusuLan’s unmistakable white robes.

Gasping, Jiang Cheng grabbed onto Lan Huan so they could crouch, unseen, behind the bushes that lined his pavilion’s outer walls.

Lan Huan startled and looked bemusedly at Jiang Cheng, but he didn’t appear to be too troubled about their current state.

Good.

Because Jiang Cheng had plans.

And that plan was to finally find out which Lan boy was Jin Ling crushing on.

With only one other figure with his nephew, Jiang Cheng was reasonably sure that he could consider this concrete evidence of Jin Ling’s secret love life.

By their body language, they were obviously trying not to look conspicuous, or like they were there talking to each other, but since they were the only two people around (that they knew of) it came off as really conspicuous behavior.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

His nephew was a terrible actor. And his secret rendezvous planning was equally shitty.

Who arranged a meeting in the middle of the day where everyone could see them?

Near his uncle’s apartment, even!

Jiang Cheng shook his head.

Focus!

Discovering the identity of the other figure was his priority. Jiang Cheng could feel his muscles tense in anticipation.

At long last.

It had taken him almost a year, but he’d finally get his answer!

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng shook his head. Focus!

Discovering the identity of the other figure was his priority. Jiang Cheng could feel his muscles tense in anticipation.

At long last. It had taken him almost a year, but he was finally getting his answer!

The longer Jiang Cheng stared, though, the more disturbing clues began to click into place.

Like how the figure in the white GusuLan robes was significantly taller than his nephew — had Lan JingYi or Lan SiZhui gone through a growth spurt lately?

The Lan was also considerably broader in the shoulders than what he remembered of either of the two boys.

Additionally, the mystery Lan’s voice — audible enough at Jiang Cheng’s distance, but not loud enough that he could make out what was being said — was too deep to be either of the boys' regular, still-youthful cadence.

They were barely past the phase were their voices cracked every other word they spoke!

No.

This Lan was neither of his nephew’s close friends.

It was—

Jiang Cheng could only stare in dawning horror as the white-robbed figure turned to face Jin Ling and he was greeted with Lan WangJi’s profile.

Jiang Cheng physically felt his world come to a standstill.

HANGUANG JUN?!

Jiang Cheng would have popped several key meridians and qi deviated right then and there if Lan Huan hadn’t slapped his hand over his mouth, stifling the aggravated gurgle that threatened to crawl out of him, and made him stay still instead of giving themselves away.

Immobile, all Jiang Cheng could do was angrily blow into the hand slotted over his face.

What could a middle-aged, very cultivation-partnered man be doing hanging around in secret with his under-aged nephew?

Then, Jiang Cheng shifted gears and thought WHAT WAS HIS INFANT NEPHEW THINKING MEETING HIS UNCLE’S SHADY EX-BROTHER’S HUSBAND IN SECRET?

Honestly, he thought he’d raised that brat better!

Using his indignation as fuel, Jiang Cheng bucked and threw himself out of Lan Huan’s hold.

He had every intention of bursting through the bushes and giving those two a piece of his mind.

Possibly even break someone's legs!

But Lan Huan, with a ferocious quickness that wasn’t always apparent in his gentle, placating mannerisms, managed to catch him again. He even adjusted his hold so Jiang Cheng was effectively trapped beneath the other man's bulk.

Curse the GusuLan arm strength!

“Jiang Cheng,” Lan Huan said somewhere by his ear. His voice was irritatingly even despite the fact that he was holding a full-grown angry man down. “Peace. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but it probably won’t do anyone any good if you acted rashly.”

And, fine. That was sound advice. But it didn’t stop Jiang Cheng from sending an irritated glare at Lan Huan.

Then he glared at Fairy, who was sitting beside them docilely.

She looked perfectly happy where she was and not at all bothered that her master's uncle was currently being fucking physically assaulted.

No treats for that traitor, Jiang Cheng thought bitterly.

And then, just to be thorough, he also glared at the couple on the opposite side of the path.

All those times at Cloud Recesses were because of Lan WangJi?

He could spit.

It was terrible. He couldn’t see what Jin Ling saw in the man!

Craning his neck to look into the older Lan brother’s face (which was unnervingly close now that Jiang Cheng thought about it), he tried to figure out what his nephew would see in Hanguang Jun.

The Twin Jades had similar features, so he had the perfect opportunity to conduct some research on physical data.

True, Lan WangJi and Lan Huan had the same high cheekbones and straight nose and fine features people considered attractive, but the similarities ended there.

Jiang Cheng thought that the younger man was a poor comparison to Zewu Jun.

Personally, he preferred the small expressions that played across Lan Huan’s face when something caught his eye and pleased him.

And the slight downward curve his lips would form when a musical passage didn’t come out quite right.

They were simple and subtle — easy to miss if you didn’t know where or how to look — but they were there all the same to those who were privileged enough to witness it.

They were nothing like the indifferent cardboard impressions he often saw on Hanguang Jun!

Also! Also, where Lan Huan spoke softly and in cultured tones, Lan WangJi — when he bothered — communicated in grunts that only Wei WuXian and Lan Huan seemed to understand.

He barely cracked a smile at Wei WuXian, and they were cultivation partners for fuck’s sake!

Why pick the younger Jade when the older one was obviously the superior brother?

Jiang Cheng could drive himself mad trying to figure out where all this was coming from.

Shaking himself again in a futile bid to get Lan Huan off of him, Jiang Cheng dropped his forehead into the dirt and fumed.

He was wrong.

Jin Ling wasn’t ready to be responsible for anything. He was going to 1) break that brat’s legs and 2) spend the next 30 years breathing down his neck to make sure his innocence wasn’t stolen by barely articulate, very married old perverts!

Bolstered once again by the anger coursing through him, Jiang Cheng was about to gather as much spiritual energy in his body to thrash violently and break free from Lan Huan’s grip, but the other man abruptly let go.

Finding himself leaning into air, Jiang Cheng flailed around on the ground in a manner utterly unfitting of a respected Sect Leader.

Damn it, but Lan Huan was strong.

Wow.

Jiang Cheng had known this, in his mind. Who hadn't heard the war tales about the first Jade of Lan's impressive strength? He'd even had the honor to sometimes fight on the same battlefield as the man, back in the day.

But Jiang Cheng had never had the occasion to personally experience it.

And.

He just—

Wow.

Alright. That definitely did…something for him.

He wasn’t sure what it was but wow.

“Uh,” Jiang Cheng said articulately from where he was having a crisis on the filthy ground.

Lan Huan knelt closer and caught Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

For some reason, Jiang Cheng felt bared before the golden gaze.

“Jiang Cheng.”

The man in question continued to stare dumbly.

“A-Cheng, Didi and your nephew have left,” Lan Huan prodded him gently. “If you wanted to speak to Jin Ling, you could do so now.”

That jostled Jiang Cheng’s brain cylinders into firing once more.

Right. Priorities.

But Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to talk to his nephew right now. He needed to confront Lan WangJi about things. Righteous things.

Grabbing Lan Huan’s arm, Jiang Cheng pulled himself up, brushed himself and Fairy off, and started in the general direction Hanguang Jun had likely disappeared to — the joint apartments the Lan Huan shared with the cultivation partners.

He had a mystery to get down to.

And he was probably going to punch Lan WangJi for being a bad husband to Wei WuXian.

Regrets.

Jiang Cheng was full of them.

It was the only thing he knew.

It was the only thing that made up his existence.

He regretted all the life choices he had made that had led up to this point.

Also, he blamed Wei WuXian.

There were a lot of other people also currently causing Jiang Cheng to live full of regret on this miserable plane, but his ex-brother was the main culprit.

It always came back to Wei WuXian.

In the simpler, faraway world of just a couple of hours ago, he had dragged Lan Huan to confront his brother (and Lan Huan’s brother — this was getting a bit confusing) about what Lan WangJi and Jin Ling were doing by the edge of the forest.

Jiang Cheng had paced himself fast enough to catch sight of Lan WangJi from a distance.

He was standing on the stoop of the room he, Jiang Cheng assumed, shared with Wei WuXian.

The man in white patted at his sleeves before he pulled out a length of rope and continued into the pavilion.

Confused, but with old war instincts raising alarm bells in his head, Jiang Cheng made eye contact with Lan Huan, and they silently agreed that they wouldn’t yet announce their presence.

That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was made when they surreptitiously walked up to the entrance and tried to get some clues on why Lan WangJi was behaving so strangely.

The door had not been shut properly — once again uncharacteristic of what Jiang Cheng knew of the fastidious Lans — and the two men had been able to get a glimpse of the inside.

What they ended up finding out was something no one’s brother needed or wanted to know.

And the sounds.

Jiang Cheng was never going to talk to or look Wei WuXian in the eye again.

Or look at rope the same way ever again.

Shaking himself from the nasty images burned into his retinas, Jiang Cheng glanced down into his hands to steady himself, only for his eyes to catch on the familiar whorling design of Zidian at rest.

Fuck, but Zidian.

A little nauseated, Jiang Cheng slipped off his family’s prized spiritual weapon in a bid to gain some peace of mind.

He’d need a couple of days before he used it again. To whip people. To tie people up.

He whimpered.

Silently, Jiang Cheng sent up a small prayer to all the people who had felt Zidian’s rope-y, electrocuting wrath.

They didn’t deserve that.

And Jiang Cheng didn’t deserve any of this.

No one deserved this.

“Well,” a soft, reedy voice spoke across Jiang Cheng. “At least we know that brother and Wei WuXian’s relationship is going very well?”

If Lan Huan was trying to lighten the mood, then he was horribly off the mark. He probably knew it too but said it anyway for his own sanity.

Lan Huan’s eyes had the hunted look of a man that had seen too much.

Jiang Cheng could empathize, unfortunately.

It still didn’t stop him from wanting to claw his eyes out.

Sighing loudly, Jiang Cheng bent over to bang on a loose floorboard. The trick panel popped out to reveal a compartment filled with finely lacquered jars. Lan Huan arched an eyebrow.

He still looked queasy, but evidently the little, ah, excursion, had not put him off of his curiosity.

“Alcohol?” he asked.

“We’re going to need this,” Jiang Cheng said. He had been saving this particularly strong brew for emergencies and/or special occasions, and he reckoned this qualified.

It qualified TWO jars, he thought, and brought out an extra.

Handing out the drinking saucers with practiced ease, Jiang Cheng carefully poured out measured amounts for him and Lan Huan.

After pushing one saucer to the other man, however, Jiang Cheng had a brainchild and chugged his alcohol straight from the jar.

The alcohol burned a straight line down his throat. It was so strong, that even with his Wei WuXian-trained tolerance, he could already feel the drink taking effect.

He was going to get wasted tonight.

So blackout drunk that he could already feel the hangover. He might even forget the reason why he was drinking in the first place.

Just like he intended.

Watching Jiang Cheng take another long pull from the jar, Lan Huan, looking not unlike a cornered man about to do something desperate, murmured a soft fuck it, and tossed his drink back in one go.

Then he started coughing.

“What kind of alcohol is this?” He asked. “It doesn’t taste like anything normal people should be drinking!”

Across him, Jiang Cheng snickered.

The Lans were such lightweights.

He could already see Lan Huan flush and his golden gaze go hazy.

A small tilt to the side and a beat later, Jiang Cheng saw the other man suddenly snap into his effusive drunk mode.

A small smile threatened to pull at the corners of Jiang Cheng’s lips.

He hadn't expected Lan Huan to be a loud drunk — it had taken him by surprise when they had tried to deal with their stress that one night while looking for their nephews and trying not to cause a political panic in LanlingJin with alcohol — but he found he wasn’t all that bothered by the quirk.

Sober, Lan Huan exuded a noble but remote aura.

There was a gravity there that made you trust him with matters like politicking but not with more personal ones.

Like this, Lan Huan looked lighter. More at ease. Jiang Cheng was having a hard time taking his eyes off the rarely seen beauty before him.

“What are you looking at, A-Cheng?!” Lan Huan exclaimed. “Is there...Is there something on my face?!!”

Lan Huan tried to reach for said face and almost ended up swatting his nose in the process.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t drunk enough yet that he couldn’t grab onto the moving hand before it could do damage to its owner.

“Hey!!” Lan Huan said, several decibels louder than his normal tone, but he didn’t seem very interested in following up his exclamation.

He lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

Good thing the apartment was pretty secluded, Jiang Cheng thought. Otherwise, they would have probably alerted the other cultivators with his racket.

The closest people now were Hanguang-pervert and Wei WuXian who were preoccupied with their own (loud, so loud) activities, so Jiang Cheng thought they could have a free pass on Lan Huan’s drunken exuberance.

He took another healthy swig from the jar and chucked. “You’re already so drunk, Lan Huan.”

It took the other man some time to process what Jiang Cheng said, his eyes crossing from the effort.

Jiang Cheng could pinpoint the moment the other man put the pieces together. Lan Huan’s eyes lit up, and he laughed hard.

“Ah! YES! I AM drunk!! Of course, of course! A-Cheng! I am drunk!!”

Jiang Cheng was about to lean back in agreement when Lan Huan suddenly launched himself across the table. Or at least he tried to because, at this point, he only had enough bodily coordination for his top half to get the message.

As it was, he was spread awkwardly on the small table.

Jiang Cheng moved to right other man, but the Lan was quicker once again and grabbed on to the befuddled Jiang clan leader.

“A-CHENG!” He wheezed.

“Yes, Lan Huan?”

“A-Cheng!” Lan Huan repeated. “I am drunk, and I am with you. It makes me so happy! You and drink! Haha! It’s an excellent pair! Wait — no! I meant, we are an excellent pair! But the alcohol is quite good, too. Yes, yes!”

Jiang Cheng huffed fondly at the drunk man’s rambling.

“I enjoy spending time with you too, Lan Huan.” He admitted, a little startled by the ease with which it came out. The alcohol and the way the moonlight landed on Lan Huan’s jade-like features stirred something in him and made Jiang Cheng’s tongue looser.

He found that he really enjoyed the other man’s company. But it wasn’t like anything he’d experienced with any of his peers before. He couldn’t even compare it to the kinship he and Wei Ying once shared.

It was a strange sensation.

One he felt ill-equipped to place, much less name.

“Then why aren’t you drunking as well?!” Lan Huan slurred. He closed his long fingers around the hand Jiang Cheng was using to hold the jar and brought it closer to his lips.

“Drink! Drink with me!”

Then, on a whim or to demonstrate his own command, Lan Huan took a sloppy sip from the jar that spilled more alcohol around his mouth rather than in it, before offering it back to Jiang Cheng and demanding he do the same.

“Alright, alright.” Jiang Cheng chuckled.

He took a deep pull, absently noting that Lan Huan’s hands were still guiding his own, and was rewarded with a blinding smile for his compliance.

“Good.” Lan Huan said with finality.

His voice had significantly calmed down to his usual tones and Jiang Cheng didn’t have to wait too long until the older Lan Jade daintily lay his head on the table, closed his eyes, and promptly passed out as was usual.

Lan Huan was going to get a crick in the neck if he slept through the night that way. But Jiang Cheng found that he wasn’t in much of a hurry to move the man.

Because, before he passed out, Lan Huan had latched onto one of Jiang Cheng’s sleeves.

He looked so content holding on to it.

Jiang Cheng would give the man a minute or two before nudging him to bed.

For now, he’d enjoy the moment.

The loud whiz and pop of fireworks made Jiang Cheng turn his attention to the open pavilion doors. From where he sat, he could see the beautiful explosions lighting up the night sky in the gold and teal colors of LanlingJin Sect to signal the night before the formal start of the clan heir’s birthday celebrations.

Jiang Cheng raised his half-empty jar to toast his nephew and the Jin penchant for excess.

Honestly, it wasn’t so bad.

From what he’d seen of the preparations, his nephew had done well, and things were shockingly proceeding according to schedule.

Jiang Cheng did feel a little low that Jin Ling seemed capable of functioning without aid and constant input from his uncle, and he was man enough to admit that he might have lashed out at others for this today, but he also couldn’t help but be proud of the brat.

He was growing up.

Maybe…

Maybe if he could be trusted with the running and planning sect celebrations, then Jiang Cheng could trust him to make good decisions, even when dealing with others like Hanguang Jun.

They had not been doing anything untoward today, too.

Now that Lan Huan had formally stepped down from the position and Lan QiRen was only filling in the position ad hoc until Lan WangJi decided to take over the reins completely, the second Lan Jade and Jin Ling would most likely be meeting to discuss sect matters more often.

It would be good that they establish a working rapport early.

The tight ball in his chest that had been weighing him down the entire day, which had gradually loosened with Lan Huan’s near-constant presence, unraveled completely.

Jin Ling was smart.

Jiang Cheng should take a step back and trust the boy (young man, now) to stand on his own and make his own decisions — even for his personal life — from now on.

And perhaps that would give Jiang Cheng a little more time to himself?

Turning back to the man passed out gracelessly on the table, Jiang Cheng allowed a small, unpracticed smile to bloom on his features.

A little more time to both of them perhaps.

Time that wasn’t on a countdown or interspersed by the odd visit or two or separated by days’ worth of travel on foot and sword-flight.

Jiang Cheng carefully took the hand still holding onto his sleeve but didn’t let go. He intertwined his and Lan Huan’s fingers, breathing in amazement at how the slender fingers fit perfectly in his own sword-roughened ones.

Another round of fireworks exploded, this time in the violets and purples of the Jiang sect to pay homage to Jin Ling’s maternal heritage.

The resulting afterglow bathed the room in soft relief.

It washed over Lan Huan’s sleeping form, his smooth white skin and robes catching it just right to make him look like some breathtaking and ethereal creature.

Jiang Cheng would have mistaken the man for a dream but for the press of their fingers and palms, which assured him that the vision before him was real.

And A-Huan didn’t look half bad in Jiang colors.

Chapter Text

The gentle rocking of the boat and the soft early morning light shining through the cracks was a good approximation of Jin Ling’s idea of a relaxing day.

All that was left to complete the picture of gently bred leisure was some fine food and drink and music to accompany the ride.

But, alas, today was not his day.

Instead of a spread of his favorite foods in front of him, all he had was an empty stomach from a busy night Hunting and Lan SiZhui moaning pitifully face down on his lap.

Jin Ling patted the older boy’s head.

He had never been seasick himself, but seeing the usually calm and unruffled A-Yuan brought so low by a simple boat ride made him sure that he never wanted to be.

It didn’t make him less sympathetic to the other boy’s plight, though.

Because that was the kind of person Jin ling was.

A mature, sympathetic, responsible person.

Totally not like what some people claimed.

Setting his jaw, Jin Ling turned to the other reason why this boat trip back to Lotus Pier was a little less than pleasant.

Jiujiu was spitting acid non-stop at the trio, but as A-Yi never seemed overly concerned about what the Jiang Sect leader (or any other sect leader besides Hanguang Jun for that matter) thought and no one had the heart to berate Lan SiZhui while he was in such a poor state, Jin Ling had to field all the vitriol meant for three people.

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling cut into Jiang Cheng’s tirade right as he took a fortifying breath to continue the verbal lashing. “It’s fine. We’re fine. It’s wasn’t even that big of a monster. You didn’t really need to step in.”

From the other side of the bench where his lap was being used as a pillow for A-Yuan's legs, A-Yi snorted. “Yeah, and we didn’t even disappear for three months this time!” he pointed out.

Jin Ling cringed.

That was an...unwise topic to bring up.

The fact that they had all agreed (Wen Ning included after SiZhui had aimed some truly devastating pouts his way) to Never Talk About That Thing rubbed Jin Ling’s uncle the wrong way.

He made it plain that he was unhappy about the secrecy.

Jin Ling’s ears were still ringing from the scolding that he got for that after they got back to Koi Tower.

Fortunately, Jiang Cheng had eventually run out of steam and had to return to Yunmeng to make sure it hadn’t fallen to ruin while he was busy with the snakes at Koi Tower and Jin Ling’s life was all good as long as no one brought the topic up again.

Like what Lan JingYi just did.

Stupid Lan.

As expected, the reminder of that fiasco only added fuel to Jiujiu’s already brightly burning temper, and the volume of his nagging only increased.

There was nothing for it now. Jiujiu was going to keep going until he got tired or another crisis popped up or Wei-gongzi showed up and redirected Jiujiu’s ire to himself.

Jin Ling leaned back, careful not to jostle A-Yuan too much, and settled in to wait out his uncle’s temper.

He had a plan, damn it.

A plan to make his grouchy Jiujiu not so grouchy any more.

It had seemed to be going so well, too. Even the three-month disappearance hadn’t, surprisingly, derailed operation Get Jiujiu a Date with Zewu Jun. In the time he was away, things chugged on at the terribly slow pace that Jin Ling figured was reasonable given how closed off his Jiujiu was.

(He was prepared to wait if it out, though, if it meant that Jiujiu would find another outlet for his frustrations besides him.)

But chug on it did.

Uncle Lan XiChen and Jiujiu had spent almost all their waking hours those three months fighting corruption and being stressed together at LanlingJin.

Not the most romantic setting, but it was something, Jin Ling thought.

With that and all the lead-up Jin Ling had been orchestrating, from:

• Finding ways to keep Lan WangJi and Wei-Gongzi far away from Cloud Recesses so Uncle XiChen would have to entertain him and Jiujiu instead (Jin Ling was 95% sure then that Hanguang-Jun was onto him at that point, but he never voiced any concerns and sometimes even seemed to be actively encouraging him to keep plotting) to
• Tampering with sect leader missives (Jin Ling was now, in the proud tradition of his Jin ancestors, a criminal, of sorts) so Uncle Lan XiChen would get it instead of Lan WangJi, and he would see how Jiujiu was such a nice and gentle caretaker to his ailing nephew and Lan clan juniors to
• Digging up that horrible forbidden text in Sect Leader Nie HuaiSang’s scary dungeon library (and bribing Uncle HuaiSang with too many painted fans for one man to be able to use in a lifetime) in order to create a circumstance that would force Jiujiu and Uncle Lan XiChen to work together (it totally worked even if not exactly in the way he envisioned it) to
• Training his beloved but stubborn Fairy to herd Uncle XiChen towards Jiujiu whenever they were both in the area (it took him so many treats to get her to do what he wanted, but he was fairly certain that she did a good job)

He was sure that they would have gotten together by now.

But checking on Jiujiu’s currently very tense, very angry visage, it hadn’t worked at all.

Jiujiu was totally un-dated.

How could it be?

Everything had been going mostly according to plan and he even pulled out all the stops on his week-long birthday celebration to ensure they had ample time together alone.

Lang WangJi had even volunteered to help out on that front — although when pressed for details, Lan WangJi had given him a long stare and grunted an ominous “En.”

Jin Ling decided he didn’t want to know the method.

What mattered was that the method worked.

But had it, really?

If he squinted and looked at it sideways, Jin Ling could say that the two might have been on better terms with each other after that first night, but his birthday celebration week had come and gone with nothing to report.

Where had he gone wrong? The birthday celebration was his pièce de résistance, his beautiful masterminded child, and his dumb Jiujiu just let the opportunity slip away.

Jin Ling was going to tear his hair out in frustration.

He didn’t know what else he was going to do.

Uncle Lan XiChen was his best bet (honestly, his only bet. Jiujiu was so frustratingly picky about partners).

If even the gentlest, most understanding man that Jin Ling knew didn’t want to date his uncle, then all hope was lost.

A sharp rap on his arm brought him back to the present. A-Yi had reached over and twapped him with his own bow.

The audacity of this Lan!

“Ow!” Jin Ling said indignantly, rubbing his stinging arm.

“Hey, stupid Mistress Jin. Stop jiggling your leg. You’re making A-Yuan more nauseous!”

A quick look on his lap confirmed that A-Yuan was looking a little greener around the gills. Always a bad sign when they were on a boat, Jin Ling remembered.

Still, pride would not let Jin Ling let Lan JingYi get in the last word, even if it was true that he tended to fidget when he was thinking.

“I’m not jiggling my leg. You are!” Hah. He was an oratory genius.

A-Yi sputtered, clearly at a loss on how to respond. “What does that even—”

The crack of violet lightning cut through the small space of the boat and made all three boys freeze. Or in A-Yuan's case, tense up and try not to throw up.

“None of you have been listening to me?!” Jiujiu said, raising Zidian threateningly.

Jin Ling scrambled to move his legs away from Jiujiu’s area of attack but A-Yuan was a useless deadweight on them.

He considered his options.

There weren’t many.

Even throwing A-Yi in the way (Jiujiu wouldn’t hurt the Lan junior too much no matter how irritating he was, right?) was out of the question as A-Yuan's lower half was on him, too.

Jin Ling was going to admit defeat and take his punishment for being inattentive when Ouyang ZiZhen hurried into the small enclosure.

“Ah, pardon me Sect Leader Jiang. But we’re about to dock and… well, you might want to see for yourself.”

The distraction worked. With a parting glare that promised they would be continuing this later, Jiujiu strode outside.

Jin Ling relaxed marginally now that punishment had been moved to a time that only Jin Ling of the future would have to worry about and inclined his head towards the other junior cultivator in thanks.

Ouyang ZiZhen had been put off that he wasn’t included in the “Three-Month-Long Adventure of Bravery and Fighting and Romance” as he liked to call it, even when no one had ever indicated that bravery, fighting, or romance had been involved.

Or told him anything of what transpired, in general.

Maybe that was why he was mad.

Either way, Ouyang ZiZhen had simply filled in the blanks to create a story, and whatever he had filled those blanks with made him jealous that he had not been invited.

Since then, Ouyang had become a little colder towards the three, taking up duties with Jiujiu to avoid them under the pretense of work (which was stupid. Jiujiu followed Jin Ling everywhere and Lan SiZhui and Lan JingYi were almost always with Jin Ling so they still met all the time except it was awkward).

Things were a little strained between them, but Jin Ling recognized the diversion as the olive branch that it was and gracefully accepted it.

Gathering A-Yuan's limp form was a bit of a challenge, but between him and A-Yi and the skill bourne out of constant practice, they were more or less able to prop him up to walking condition.

A loud splash outside sent the boat rocking violently. A-Yuan grabbed onto Jin Ling and JinYi like they were his lifeline.

“Hhhnnngg,” he groaned.

“What was that?” A-Yi said, gingerly tilting SiZhui’s head away from his general direction.

Jin Ling glared at the junior Lan cultivator.

It didn’t pass his notice that a seasick A-Yuan was facing him now.

Ouyang ZiZhen, who had been standing by the entrance flapped his sleeves helplessly and answered, “Huh. Well, it looks as if your uncles decided to take a romantic morning swim.” He curled his tone in the last part of the statement in question, as if he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be describing.

“I only have one uncle,” Jin Ling said automatically. But his mind was working overtime — could it be?

“Everyone is your uncle! You even call them that,” A-Yi griped.

And, yes, that was true, Jin Ling was a very popular nephew and the family tree was a nightmare (thanks, Granpa Jin GuangShan), what could he say? But getting in the last word with A-Yi was at the bottom of Jin Ling’s priorities right now. If he was right...oh! Oh!

It was happening.

And in the slightly murky waters of YunmengJiang port, as well.

OK.

Also not how Jin Ling imagined it happening... The fireworks backdrop would have been so much better, but—

Jin Ling heaved his side of A-Yuan's noodle body onto A-Yi and sprinted to the front of the boat.

Behind him, he heard A-Yuan moan in protest of the rocking his mad dash had made and A-Yi and Ouyang’s cries of surprise.

Jin Ling ignored that.

The early morning sun was a little too bright that it blinded Jin Ling for a second and he almost toppled over the boat.

There also wasn’t any fine food and drink for him to enjoy feasting on. Neither was there soft music to be had to complete Jin Ling’s idea of a good day.

But that was alright.

Because this was the day.

It was happening!

Chapter Text

Record scratch. One year ago...

Lan Huan carefully replaced Liebing in its place of honor on his shelf.

He took his time trying to figure out the right way to set it.

There wasn’t a lot of anything else left on the shelf, after he had cleared out all the non-essentials, so maybe if he lay it in a particular angle, the empty spaces wouldn’t be so obvious.

He was almost done packing up his meager belongings for his long seclusion; just some loose ends to tie up and he would be all set.

Lan Huan might even have gone away earlier, but he had known the pain of separation early in his life. He didn’t want to leave his remaining family abruptly.

He thought he owed it to them to bid them a decent farewell.

It was the filial thing to do, after all.

So, ignoring the voice telling him that he could also not do it, there wasn’t a point, he gathered his robes around him like a poor, woven substitute for armor, breathed in deep to center himself before he had to face people, and stepped out of his rooms in search of the precious few he held close to his heart.

Finding A-Zhan would be easy. All he had to do was look for signs of distressed or traumatized Lan clan members or listen for irregular sounds around the mountain retreat like loud bangs and screeches.

These days, wherever Wei WuXian was causing mischief, you could be sure that Didi was nearby.

Turning a corner, Lan Huan found that he didn’t have to exercise either tracking method. His brother was standing right there, leaning over the smaller form of the Yiling Patriarch.

In an uncommon display of chaste affection, his lips were pressed lightly on Wei WuXian’s forehead; the two were completely wrapped up in the moment and in each other that everything else probably melted away into the unimportant background.

Seeing them having such a tender moment, Lan Huan felt like a voyeur.

He reminded himself that he should be glad that they were toning it down, and that Lan QiRen’s blood pressure would thank them for their restraint.

Still, Lan Huan had to take a moment to unclench his fists.

Oh he hadn’t noticed when he had done that.

It wasn’t a very generous reaction.

Lan Huan had seen A-Zhan mourn for more than a decade. He’d witnessed how the loss of his only love, and the inability to voice out his pain and seek closure, had almost destroyed the brother he so cherished.

He wanted to be happy for him now that A-Zhan had his lover back, but he also couldn’t help the creeping feeling of bitterness that came to the fore when he was confronted by the evidence of their bliss.

Once upon a time, he had thought he could have a happy ending, too.

Once upon a time he didn’t think that his heart would be so betrayed by someone he held dear.

Someone he thought he held dear.

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when Cloud Recesses was asleep, he lay in bed, fighting sleep even when he was fully aware that he needed his rest, and thought in circles: did he ever know the real Jin GuangYao?

How could he have been so blind?

Banishing the dark thoughts from his mind, more or less, Lan Huan summoned a pleasant smile on his face and coughed lightly to signal his presence.

Slowly, as if they were regretting leaving the arms of the other even for just a second, A-Zhan and Wei WuXian pulled apart. His brother’s ears were red but he looked mostly his composed himself.

The same could not be said for Wei WuXian. His cheeks were aflame, and he tried to cover the part of his forehead that A-Zhan had been paying attention to just a few moments ago.

Though his heart was heavy, he couldn’t help his fondness for the two.

A simple forehead kiss was the least of the things he had accidentally walked in on them doing, but here they were blushing like they were still teenagers discovering romance for the first time.

“Brother-in-law, we didn’t notice you there,” Wei WuXian said, clasping his hands together and bowing. Lan Huan returned the gesture and greeted A-Zhan, as well.

“Gege.” A-Zhan was as economic with his words as ever. A look between them was all the Lan Huan needed, though.

A-Zhan had probably guessed that he sought them out to talk about his seclusion, and was waiting for him to continue.

Wei WuXian, irrepressible as always, beat him to his speech. “XiChen-ge, we were just about to go find the juniors. We heard that they’d bagged a big one! Come join us.”

A-Zhan’s impassive face said that he wanted Wei WuXian to read the mood and not go randomly inviting people who were about to seclude themselves to excursions to meet other people far from said seclusion area.

But, as usual, he only agreed with the other man, intoning a decisive “Mn” to indicate that he had heard.

What would it feel to have someone so utterly devoted to him like that? Lan Huan wondered.

And there he was again, mind wandering.

Lan Huan just had to keep it together just a little longer, and then he would be free to reflect in solitude.

So, feeling like saying goodbye would be more efficient if he did it with everyone together — Lan SiZhui and his mischievous cousin Lan JingYi would be part of the group of juniors, no doubt — Lan Huan agreed to descend the mountain.

It was a mistake to come along.

More than halfway through the journey, when he could no longer turn back without being rude, Wei WuXian mentioned that the junior who had felled the most fierce corpses and exorcised the evil spirit had been the newly instated young Jin Sect leader.

Lan Huan felt his stomach drop.

He had watched the Jin heir grow from a small, squalling orphan baby, to an inquisitive toddler, to a handful of a child, and then into a brave but bull-headed teen. He had arguably been present for more of the boy’s life milestones than with his brother’s adoptive son.

If he was going to say goodbye to anyone, it should have been to the boy.

But he had been hesitant to make contact after the events at GuanYin Temple.

No. He didn’t want to hide behind an excuse.

He had been actively avoiding the boy.

Lan Huan had been part of the boy’s life for a very particular reason, and one reason alone.

A-Yao.

Seeing the boy brought back all the treasured thoughts and memories and hopes he had once shared with his beloved sworn brother, but now they were tinged with the bittersweet poison that had taken root and festered in Lan Huan’s heart ever since Jin GuangYao’s treachery was revealed.

For Lan Huan, looking at Jin Rulan was akin to torture.

The boy reminded him so much of A-Yao that the mere mention of him jarred his senses and summoned his doubts about their friendship that he kept hidden. Had their sworn bond been real?

Or had he been fooling himself the entire time defending a man that didn’t exist?

He should turn back now.

He no longer had business with the cultivation world; descending the mountain for a final farewell had been a foolhardy decision.

Wei WuXian’s voice cut through his thoughts once more. “Over there!” He said, pointing to a spot somewhere in front of them where the GusuLan sect junior disciples’ robes stood in blinding contrast to the surroundings.

And at the center was the golden figure of Jin Rulan.

It was impossible to miss, and Lan Huan’s heart despaired.

Light blue and gold had once been colors he associated with clear days and hope, but they felt so far away now. Almost as if it had happened to another person.

Maybe it did.

Lan Huan no longer felt like the man he was before. Perhaps he thought, I am as much of a liar as Jin GuangYao had been. But the only one I had been fooling was myself.

“Brother,” A-Zhan said. His voice was muffled by the altitude and the distance they kept between each other while flying, but Lan Huan could infer that they were supposed to land now.

Mechanically, Lan Huan guided Shuoyue towards the clearing.

He hung back as he touched the ground, however, unnerved by how many people were around and painfully unsure of his place amongst them now.

These were his sect members and the disciples of sects allied to GusuLan. He should know them and be happy to be around them, but Lan Huan could not bear it.

A-Yao had been an ally, too.

His closest non-blood kin, besides Da-ge, in fact.

Would these people prove themselves untrue in the end, too?

The juniors were congratulating the victorious golden figure now, but the past few months had taught Lan Huan of how fickle fortunes could be. You could be at the top one moment, the next thing you knew your sworn brothers were stabbing you in the back, breaking your neck.

One moment you could have been content to live your life alongside the kindest, gentlest, most self-sacrificing man you knew, and the next thing you find lies unraveling everywhere to uncover a terrible, twisted version of reality.

One moment, he had A-Yao with him. Badly hurt, but with the hope of penance and peace.

The next, Lan Huan had nothing...

Enough!

Lan Huan had promised himself not to dwell. He was here to wrap up his business and cut ties before finally retiring to seclusion until the end of his days.

And if that meant that he had to speak with Jin Rulan one last time, then so be it.

It was the right thing to do. Rule #459.

Swallowing convulsively, Lan Huan waited for an opportunity to approach the boy he once thought of — still does, maybe — as something of a nephew.

Jin Rulan was surrounded by his peers and looked so happy that Lan Huan hesitated to interrupt, though.

After all, who was he but a loose end connected to the Shushu who hurt and betrayed him?

No, better to approach when there were less people to witness his shame.

Hanging back certainly had its benefits — he could people watch without having to get too involved. It made it easier to keep his distance from anyone drifting too close.

Because he was disinclined to mingle, Lan Huan was able to spot another figure he was less than eager to meet while waiting for the crowd to disperse.

Sect Leader Jiang, Sandu Shengshou, was also present, likely as a chaperone for his nephew, though right now he stood a little off to the side.

Lan Huan could respect the Sect Leader for his actions during the Sunshot campaign, and even admire his devotion to his remaining blood relative and the rebuilding of Lotus Pier. But he could never bring himself to agree with his violent and aggressive displays towards the people around him and under his power.

He had a very poor opinion of the way he was raising Jin Rulan, for example.

Was it really necessary to be that hard with the boy?

Moreover, his treatment of A-Yao for the circumstances of his birth — something his sworn brother couldn’t control — was a black mark against Jiang WanYin. Lan Huan didn’t believe that starting life at a disadvantage would dictate what a person would make of their life later.

But had Jin GuangYao been any better than what they expected of a prostitute’s son? a traitorous voice inside his head whispered.

It sounded vaguely like A-Yao, which Lan Huan found fitting, in a horrible way.

Of course, A-Yao would be the insidious voice of his dark musings. He already was the subject of the Lan Huan’s better memories, why not occupy every other inch of his thoughts, as well?

Was this how it was going to be once he was secluded? Just him and his thoughts and the specter of A-Yao hanging over him, making him second guess the motivations behind every smile, every interaction they had?

A-Yao had said that he’d never thought to hurt him.

But it was A-Yao’s lies that had cut deepest...

Consumed by his thoughts, he almost missed the racket that Wei WuXian was causing.

There were no dogs high up in Cloud Recesses so he never had the chance to see for himself, but it seemed like the Yiling Patriarch was as scared of dogs as Lan Huan had heard. He and brother soon departed, clearly having forgotten that Lan Huan was with them.

Feeling abandoned now that his Didi had whisked his lover away, Lan Huan cast around for something to do. Perhaps Jin Rulan would be available to talk now.

What caught his eye, however, was a sight he’d never expected to see.

Sect Leader Jiang was crouched, almost kneeling, on the dirty ground, and giving Fairy — the dog Jin GuangYao had gifted to Jin Rulan (did he even like dogs?) not too long ago — enthusiastic pats on the head.

His face had lost its hard, angry edge, and he looked open and relaxed, completely content.

It stripped away years from his visage.

He looked more like the young man Lan Huan remembered he had first met a lifetime ago, when things had been infinitely simpler.

Watching the usually abrasive man check behind him before bringing out another dog treat, all while fondly chastising the animal for taking advantage of his good heart, Lan Huan felt his feet move the rest of his body closer.

That.

That looked like an expression of genuine, uncomplicated happiness adorning Jiang Wanyin’s sharp features.

How did he find it? How could he keep such a face when the world was full of untruths, hidden upon layers and layers of obfuscation and omissions?

Lan Huan was desperate to ask the Sect Leader. He was a man dying of thirst in the desert and here was the oasis that would slake it.

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “You seem to get along very well with your dog, Master Jiang.”

Disappointing.

Even he couldn’t quit the habit of passing useless platitudes around.

Empty, all empty.

More disappointment was in the cards, however, as he saw the Jiang Sect Leader’s walls come back up when he noticed Lan Huan.

That pure expression he had been lucky enough to observe for a second was once again hidden behind the hard mask of the infamous Sandu Shengshou.

Something inside Lan Huan’s numbed body mourned the loss.

Just once more.

He would like to see if it was true, if there was something still untouched by the wickedness of the world, but the Sect Leader refused to meet his eyes.

Please.

“It’s good to see you well.” Now Sandu Shengshou was spouting platitudes, as well. Lan Huan couldn’t bear it, and he tried to catch the other man’s eyes even for just a second.

But Sect Leader Jiang had already turned away, taking the dog and the boy (painful reminders of everything good and bad in Lan Huan’s heart) away from him.

Lan Huan was left alone and bereft once more.

As the now-familiar waves of black despair washed around him, trying to fill the hole inside Lan Huan, he thought he saw Jin Rulan stare up at him and observe his face a beat too long as it longingly followed his uncle’s retreating back.

But, no. It wouldn’t be right to trouble others with his burdens.

Lan Huan fixed his own mask of peaceable gentleness — what he had thought was his real face — in place and watched them go.

You’ve learned well. Jin GuangYao’s voice echoed in his head.

Lan Huan felt dirty.

Because he was a liar who played at being Lan Huan, Zewu-Jun — a whole, functioning human — when there was actually nothing left inside him.

In the absence of Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian, it fell upon him to escort the GusuLan juniors back to Cloud Recesses.

It wasn’t as much of a trial as he feared.

Mostly, Lan Huan had kept his peace and let the younger ones’ chatter wash over him.

The things they talked about...simply did not interest him.

Soon enough, he would be in seclusion. In the face of that, keeping up with their affairs seemed hardly worth investing the energy in, honestly.

But a throwaway comment from Lan JingYi drew him reluctantly into the conversation.

“What do you mean?” He asked the boy.

Startled that he was being singled out, Lan JingYi flailed around for a response.

Ever the dutiful friend, Lan SiZhui stepped in and answered, “Lan JingYi meant no harm by his words, Zewu-Jun. Only that Jin-gongzi’s vast improvement in his cultivation could be credited to his Jiujiu’s training.”

Lan SiZhui looked to Lan Huan to see if the answer had satisfied the man. Getting no reply, he continued, “Master Jiang might get ah...a little too passionate with his demands, but we cannot say that he has so far led Jin-gongzi astray.”

Well-spoken and inoffensive, Lan Huan thought. Lan SiZhui was diplomatic as always; he could be dangerous if he so wished.

Stop.

These things no longer concerned him, Lan Huan reminded himself.

So, he tried to focus his thoughts on other things.

Sandu Shengshou, was indeed a harsh taskmaster and even harsher critic. Lan Huan had seen enough of that, though never at close range.

When it was Sect Leader Jiang’s turn to care for Jin Rulan, A-Yao made sure to steer clear of the man, only exchanging enough pleasantries to make sure the boy was settled before departing his presence.

At that time, A-Yao had explained that he kept his distance because he wanted the Sect Leader to be more comfortable. The implied “because the presence of a prostitute’s son was a blight to his senses” hung heavy in the air.

At that time, Lan Huan was saddened that such a great cultivator would shun a good man like A-Yao for the actions of his parents.

But perspective gave Lan Huan better insight, and he suspected darkly that A-Yao had also kept his distance because the Sect Leader was more like Da-ge in that he would not be so easily fooled by A-Yao’s veil of gracious manners.

Maybe, maybe.

Lan Huan would never be able to confirm. He would not give himself the opportunity to.

He was quitting the world soon.

No need to busy himself with worldly speculation.

One thing he felt thankful for, he was surprised to find, was that Jin GuangYao’s caution had led to an unforeseen result: There was something in the feared Sandu Shengshou that had been spared from A-Yao’s poison.

And, maybe, it had allowed the man to keep that expression of purity Lan Huan had seen today.

Well, good for him. Lan Huan thought. But he should really stop thinking too much. All his thoughts eventually circled back to A-Yao; the numb emptiness of un-thought was a much better alternative.

He was telling himself more lies, though.

Lan Huan was still thinking about Jiang WanYin days later.

It was Lan QiRen who brought up his seclusion date a little more than a week after Lan Huan glimpsed Jiang WanYin’s secret face.

He heard the knock while he was in the middle of playing a new song on his guqin, a particularly tricky piece with a haunting melody. It was cold and matched the way his insides felt.

On the outside, he put on his usual smile and tried not to be too obvious about hiding his fingers from his Shushu.

Lan Huan has gotten so caught up in his thoughts (and then trying to block said thoughts) that he forgot to mind his fingers.

They’re bleeding again, but it’s nothing new.

It’s a trifle.

It’s not as if he felt them, anyway.

“Lan Huan, is something the matter?” Shushu asked. He seemed genuinely concerned. “You were supposed to enter seclusion a week ago, yet here you are.”

Lan Huan paused and tried to think of how to respond.

Everything had been in place, even clan duties were redistributed as he formally stepped down from the Sect Leader position and passed the title to A-Zhan, so there technically was nothing barring him from proceeding to retire in peace.

Except...he hadn’t.

Thoughts of That Day played over and over in his mind, mostly about Jiang WanYin and how Lan Huan had found the one person who seemed to have gone through the experience with A-Yao untouched, unscathed.

It was…fascinating? Lan Huan desperately wanted to know how the man had done it.

Perhaps he could teach me.

Realizing that his uncle was still patiently waiting for an answer, Lan Huan grasped for something to say.

He came up with nothing.

“I feel it is not yet time, Shushu,” he deflected, hoping his uncle would leave it at that.

He was in luck. Lan QiRen seemed to take his answer at face value and moved on to the next matter of business.

There had been reports of fierce corpses gathering in the near-uninhabited lands that bordered Qinghe Nie and Lanling Jin. Lan Zhan and Wei WuXian had already gone to investigate twice, but had so far come back with nothing. They were about to go out again to follow up on leads that came from the old Wen district.

Lan Huan nodded in understanding. The news of fierce corpses was troubling, especially now that there shouldn’t have been any way for them to come back.

It was only right that they send out their most experienced men to investigate. But it also meant that A-Zhan would have to leave his Sect Leader duties to those who remained behind at Cloud Recesses.

That was fine Lan Huan thought. He could step in for brother for a little while as he dealt with the matter.

His seclusion could wait another couple of days.

It was a good thing he’d agreed to take up some of A-Zhan’s duties.

While he and Wei WuXian were away, Cloud Recesses suddenly and inexplicably become a hub for every manner of person besides the townsfolk who traveled far to report very specific fierce corpse sightings.

First were the people who wanted to learn how to cultivate, and, failing that, meet the Yiling Patriarch to see if he was open to passing on his demonic teachings.

Shushu almost went into qi deviation the first time it happened, but had to settle for kicking the assembled disciple-hopefuls out and banning them from ever entering Cloud Recesses again.

He also added more rules to the wall repudiating prospective demonic energy cultivators and demonic patriarchs.

Next were the strange and unannounced visits from Sect Leader Nie. Nie HuaiSang fluttered his fan here and there, and lost his way around the area every time he so much as turned slightly in another direction.

Lan Huan was a little exasperated by this as Nie HuaiSang had spent a significant length of his youth studying (and then reviewing and revising) in GusuLan. He should know his way around, but it seemed that his headshaking tendencies now even extended to his memories.

Lan QiRen held these visits with as much contempt as he had for the would-be demonic cultivation disciples, but he couldn’t eject Nie HuaiSang in the same manner as the first group because of his Sect Leader status.

Washing his hands of the matter, Shushu added another rule to the wall stating that he was to no longer entertain guests; Lan Huan could do that for him, damn it all.

It was a lot of extra work, but Lan Huan felt indifferent at his Shushu foisting those duties off to him.

He welcomed all the visitors with the same gentle, reassuring face he had long mastered when dealing with people, and then sent those people on their way as quickly as he could without being impolite.

It was empty, repetitive work; it didn’t need much thought to go through the motions of being a good host.

But there was one type of visit that stood out from the rest: Jiang WanYin and his nephew’s calls to Cloud Recesses.

In the secret pocket of his heart where it was safe to think these thoughts without A-Yao’s voice intruding and ruining it, Lan Huan could admit that this was his favorite type of visit.

GusuLan had always been a cool, subdued place.

But Lan Huan had not noticed how oppressive it felt until a wounded Jiang WanYin was dragged — hollering the entire time that he was fine — by his nephew up the mountain, and they injected their lively banter into the usually silent mountaintop.

Jin Rulan had tearfully asked Lan Huan, asked him very specifically (that boy was so strange), if his Jiujiu could get some first aid before they took a boat back to YunmengJiang for proper treatment.

Lan Huan didn’t see why he should turn them away.

More than the nasty arrow wound on his arm, however, Lan Huan could see that Jiang WanYin was disappointed to find he had just missed Wei WuXian by a day.

He quickly covered it up with more bluster at his nephew, though, and Lan Huan was both disappointed that he was once more confronted by Sandu Shengshou’s stone walls and happy that he did not have to see Jiang WanYin sad.

That had led Lan Huan to impulsively declare that GusuLan would always welcome him — er, them. Lan Huan meant Jiang WanYin’s party — whenever they wanted to drop by.

Surprised by the standing invitation, the Sect Leader had agreed to the arrangement, though it was obvious he was puzzled by the reasoning behind it.

Meanwhile, Jin Rulan’s triumphant smile rivaled the sun that day.

He had wooted so loudly at the prospect of being able to visit his friends more freely and frequently that Jiang WanYin had threatened all sorts of punishments at his nephew.

Since then, almost a week never passed without the Uncle-nephew duo stopping by and taking meals with Lan Huan before moving on to their next Night Hunt.

That. That was his favorite part.

GusuLan food had always been bland, but Lan Huan found that they were even less appealing these days. He now tended to pick at and push his food around without actually eating much until mealtime was over.

When Jiang WanYin and his nephew were around, things seemed brighter and lighter.

Eating didn’t seem like such a chore.

And, when he seemed to keep missing Wei WuXian at the mountain, Jiang Wanyin took to leaving some tokens for his foster-brother with Lan Huan.

Lan Huan couldn’t fathom a pattern to the chosen items — one time it was an oddly shaped kite, another time it was chilli flakes — but Wei WuXian was absolutely thrilled every time Lan Huan delivered the items to him.

Like the food he shared with Jiang WanYin, Lan Huan fed off Wei WuXian’s happiness; he hoped that the Sect Leader continued the little tradition for the foreseeable future.

For the duration he was here before he went into seclusion, he meant.

Because he was really going to do it, honest!

But, you know, not now.

Right now, Lan Huan was having dinner with the husbands.

The meal was so far uneventful, but something in the air tonight told him that Wei WuXian would be extremely grateful to receive one of Jiang WanYin’s presents. Wei WuXian and brother had, once again, come back from their investigation empty-handed; Wei WuXian’s frustration at the lack of progress was palpable.

“I just don’t understand! The information always seems good, but Lan Zhan and I are always a step behind before the trail suddenly goes cold! Argh!”

Wei WuXian punctuated his feelings by thumping his head hard into the table’s wood.

Lan Huan tried to exude a placating aura of his own to counter Wei WuXian’s agitated one, but the man was evidently too distressed to calm down so easily.

So, Lan Huan brought out his ace: the pot of Lotus Root and Pork Rib soup that Jiang WanYin had left with him just this afternoon.

Wei WuXian smelled the spicy concoction and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the steaming bowl Lan Huan was handing over.

Mood suddenly improving, Wei WuXian took the bowl with an enthusiastic “Thank you, XiChen-gege!” and inhaled his food.

When he finished the serving and Lan Huan offered him another, Wei WuXian jokingly declared that he was demoting A-Zhan as his favorite Lan; XiChen-gege was his number one pick now.

A-Zhan did not seem to appreciate his husband’s humor and shot a Look at his older brother.

On the outside, his face was as smooth and impassive as ever, but Lan Huan could feel the blistering discontent radiating off of him in waves.

A-Zhan moved his seat minutely closer to Wei WuXian’s side, a little bit to the front, as if he could stake his claim without saying it outright by blocking Wei WuXian from Lan Huan’s view.

This time the small smile that formed on Lan Huan’s lips was true.

It wasn’t obvious to the casual onlooker, but A-Zhan had always guarded what he considered his jealously.

(Wei WuXian always did seem to bring out the best and worst in his little brother.)

A-Zhan had nothing to fear, though.

It was another Yunmeng Jiang native that had caught his attention, he’d realized.

A couple of weeks back, just when he had worked up the courage to ask WanYin to call him XiChen-xiong, WanYin had asked him how to find out if somebody liked someone.

At that point, he hadn’t known how to reply.

He had just been sitting there, enjoying being able to enjoy eating food for the moment when WanYin popped the question out of the blue.

Choking on his food had not been his most glorious moment, but it had given him time to think.

How did you find out if someone liked another person?

How would such a person act?

They’d probably spend all their time moping around and going about one’s duties on autopilot waiting for the one they liked to come up their mountain to have brunch/lunch/supper/dinner/snacks with them.

Probably secretly import spices from that person’s hometown so they could offer it to them during said mealtime.

Probably try to drag on the meetings for as long as possible, even resorting to letting Lan JingYi keep going on tangents just so Jin RuLan and Lan SiZhui would be too preoccupied to start their Night Hunt.

Probably stare too long at a certain person’s face in the hopes that the fleeting look of pure contentment and happiness would make an appearance that day (besides the initial Fairy episode, Lan Huan had witnessed it 8 more times, directed mostly at Jin RuLan, but sometimes at the junior trio in general, another time at an unspecified spot above Lan Huan’s shoulder when thinking about Jin RuLan’s mother, and that one time at a nondescript pouch filled with lotus seeds meant for Wei WuXian).

Probably pathetically hope that that Look would be directed at them, even at least once.

Probably keep pushing back one’s seclusion date using the flimsiest of excuses just so the like-er could have more time with the like-e.

Huh.

Lan Huan could think of a lot of probablies off the top of his head, actually.

He just wasn’t sure how to tell WanYin all that, because he was pretty confused about it himself.

It probably wasn’t anything, but he had a sneaking suspicion he liked Jiang WanYin, abrasive, grouchy personality and all.

He certainly ticked all the above boxes.

Lan Huan tried to be rational about it. Who else did he like that he could compare with ...whatever this thing was?

His mood suddenly dropped, and he felt ice creep around him once more.

His experience with A-Yao probably was closest.

Lan Huan had admired the man right from the start.

He was so giving and willing to help — risk his life even — just so their righteous cause would triumph. In many of their long talks at night, while in hiding and then in between fighting, A-Yao had said as much.

Lan Huan had taken this as proof that he and A-Yao had been so aligned that he managed to put all of Lan Huan’s deepest and most hidden thoughts into beautiful, beautiful words.

But maybe Lan Huan was just naive and stupidly easy to read.

Was his preoccupation with Jiang WanYin the same?

Was he being led on once more?

Was he letting himself be led by a specter of something he had imagined to make himself feel better?

“XiChen-gege, you’re being quiet,” Wei WuXian said. He looked sheepish as he pushed a bowl of Lotus Root and Pork Rib soup towards Lan Huan. “Is it because I’ve been eating all of Jiang Cheng’s food? Here have some! Jiang Cheng’s a pretty good cook, you know?”

Wanyin was indeed a talented cook. Lan Huan couldn’t resist tasting a bit of the soup earlier and thought that the spices were masterfully balanced with the lotus root and meat.

Then again, anything that had to do with Lan Huan’s food always seemed better when WanYin was involved.

Nevertheless, he gratefully took the bowl of soup Wei WuXian was offering. The broth was as delicious as he remembered, and he and Wei WuXian shared a smile over Jiang WanYin’s unexpected culinary talents.

Wei WuXian was beaming, glad to find another person who appreciated Yunmeng Jiang cuisine. Lan Huan was smiling because Wei WuXian, one of the people who lost the most to A-Yao and the Jin clan’s treachery, was smiling.

Wei WuXian smiled like WanYin did in his unguarded moments — pure, genuine.

Lan Huan admired both of them for being so resilient.

He realized that, no, this wasn’t like with Jin GuangYao.

Jiang WanYin had nothing to gain from Lan Huan by acting so thoughtfully towards his former martial brother.

This was true brotherly love.

Feeling the smile settle more confidently on his lips, Lan Huan turned to his own brother, whom he loved very much, too.

...Whose eyes were glaring daggers at him.

Without taking his eyes off Lan Huan, A-Zhan brought his bowl down with such force that the bowl didn’t so much as shatter than have no choice but to make a truly heroic effort to become one the wooden surface.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei WuXian exclaimed. “Didn’t you like Jiang Cheng’s cooking? Was it too spicy?”

“En,” A-Zhan answered in the negative. “It was good.”

Then he stood up and beckoned Wei WuXian to come with him.

“Lan Zhan! Where are we going?”

“Time to investigate, now. Come.”

When the pair finally made their way back over a week later, Wei WuXian, despite the dopey expression he was wearing, looked a little bit roughed up. He was distinctly limping.

He perked up when Lan Huan showed him Jiang Cheng’s latest token, though. It was a fragrant lotus-based oil that Wei WuXian declares would be perfect for relaxing sore muscles.

“And,” Wei WuXian said, head canted to the side so that he looked up at brother through his eyelashes.

“Lan Zhan should come help me,” he purred.

Wei WuXian saunter-limped off in the general direction of Jingshi while throwing heated looks over his shoulder at brother.

A-Zhan, who somehow looked as put together as when he had left Cloud Recesses even after spending so much time roughing it outdoors, leveled Lan Huan with a calm stare, but there was no mistaking the aura of smugness he was transmitting. Mine, his entire being said without speaking.

Lan Huan let the two go.

The debriefing over their investigation could wait.

Lan Huan was making good use of his insomnia by doing Very Important Clan Paperwork when A-Zhan came into his rooms without so much as a by-your-leave several nights later.

Didi didn't break protocol unless it’s something important, so Lan Huan was on full alert even as he shuffled his papers — where he definitely wasn’t doodling violet lotuses and fluffy clouds with purple lightning bolts around sensitive documents! — around his desk.

“Is it about the fierce corpses? Has something come up, brother?” He said, giving up on the pretense and simply shoving the papers away.

He steepled his healing fingers and tried to look nonchalant.

The pause in between the question and brother’s answer was confirmation that A-Zhan had caught Lan Huan slacking off, and he also looked pointedly at Lan Huan’s wrecked (but mostly ok now!) fingers. Like the best brother that he was, however, A-Zhan refrained from commenting.

He held out a missive.

“Missive,” A-Zhan said so drily it was a wonder his words didn't dry up his mouth as they passed his lips.

Lan Huan took it and was surprised to see that it was addressed to the Lan Sect Leader. He looked to his brother waiting to see if he was going to elaborate.

Nothing was forth-coming. If anything, A-Zhan seemed even more sparing with his words, suspiciously trying to avoid eye contact.

Well, alright.

“Do you need help answering the letter?” Lan Huan hazarded. His brother was usually an open book to him, but tonight was a night of firsts; he couldn't seem to figure out the reason for the visit.

“No.” A-Zhan continued with his spell of one-worded answers. “Can’t.”

“Can’t? Can’t what?”

“Answer it.”

Lan Huan was confused. “Why can’t you?”

“Mn. Busy,” was all that brother said.

Lan Huan had wisened up, however. “Brother, but you’re...not? You’re right here. Just...standing.”

“En.” A-Zhan countered. Then he squinted as if in great concentration. “Need to...investigate.”

Stepping back a little, Lan Huan saw Wei WuXian standing by the entrance, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. His clothes looked like they were thrown on in a hurry, and he was definitely half asleep — certainly not in any state to go investigate alleged sightings of fierce corpses running amok.

As if the sight of his husband explained everything, A-Zhan nodded in farewell. Hoisting Wei WuXian over his shoulder like a sack of sleepy potatoes, he unsheathed Bichen and got on it with his husband-cargo.

Before flying off, A-Zhan turned and gave him a stern look.

“Brother. Answer it.”

He didn't seem satisfied with that, however. A-Zhan tacked on, “Important,” and finally launched himself into the air.

Wei WuXian flapped one of his arms in a half-hearted attempt at a wave goodbye before going back to sleep on his husband’s back.

That was...strange.

Turning over the letter in his hands (and trying not to wince at the state of his fingertips. He’d stopped overdoing it with the guqin, more or less, but they still looked gross and tender) he found that it was a missive from Yunmeng Jiang.

His heart beat faster.

What could they be sending missives about this late at night?

He didn’t have to worry though.

It was just a note informing him that Lan JingYi and Lan SiZhui had come afoul of a spiritual energy-sucking curse. They were alright now, but Jiang Cheng thought that they still needed some days’ bed rest before returning to Cloud Recesses.

That was alright.

If Jiang Cheng, who was so good at guerilla-caring for his foster-brother, was personally seeing to the boys’ well-being, then they would probably recover in no time.

He acknowledged the receipt of the note and even decided to add a sincere “get well soon!” while also valiantly resisting the urge to doodle more cloud-lotuses on the margins.

When he went to bed soon after, the dark thoughts that threatened to envelop his mind as he lay in his bed had been pushed back into the corners of his mind.

In its place was the thought of Jiang Cheng grouchily nursing the boys back to health.

Lan Huan slept soundly that night.

In the end, the decision to come back to Lanling Jin was easy.

Shushu had advised against it, saying that he was supposed to go into seclusion — he had delayed it enough, he shouldn’t be involving himself with matters of the outside world.

He was right, of course. Uncle only ever had his nephews’ best interests at heart.

But, one look at Jiang Cheng’s haggard face, and Lan Huan knew that he wasn’t going into seclusion anytime soon.

When the junior cultivators and Wen Ning had gone missing, and the seniors had all been scrambling to trace their whereabouts and then trying out different arrays and incantations to get them back, Jiang Cheng had taken it upon himself to handle the unglamorous matters of paperwork and logistics at Lanling Jin.

It was obvious that he was worried sick about his nephew, but he also couldn’t let the day-to-day running of two powerful sects fall by the wayside.

Jiang Cheng had been run ragged going back and forth from Koi Tower to Lotus Pier and back again that even brother, who was largely indifferent to his husband’s foster-brother paused and commented on his poor state.

“Mn,” A-Zhan said.

Lan Huan agreed.

Jiang Cheng looked like he had been through the wringer and the only thing that seemed to be holding him together was the faint hope that his nephew wasn’t responding to any of the Lans' Inquiry songs, though he tried to cover up his helplessness with a hurricane of angry rants.

Jiang Cheng was a terrible actor; he hid his worry badly. Everyone could see right through the act.

So, Lan Huan had followed after the Sect Leader when the brief convocation between allied clans searching for the missing boys at Cloud Recesses adjourned.

Down the mountain they went, a heavy cloud preceded by a grief-stricken storm. Then up they went into the snake den of Koi Tower.

And if Lan Huan let Jiang Cheng rage against the plotters at Lanling Jin’s court just a little bit, who could blame him?

Three boys were missing, but all these men could think of was to use the ensuing chaos to take more power for themselves.

He had forgotten how the vicious power plays at Koi tower had sickened him, but it was coming back to him in full force now.

How did I bear it last time?

Ah. Yes. Jin GuangYao had been particularly adept at managing Koi Tower vultures.

Lan Huan had once thought that it was because of his innate righteousness and amazing mind that Jin GuangYao was able to overcome their baseness just like he had overcome the circumstances of his birth.

He could see now though that Jin GuangYao was so good at playing the game because he himself thrived in cloak-and-dagger dealings, too.

In contrast, Jiang Cheng wore his heart on his sleeve.

He was ill-suited to all the politicking that went on at Koi Tower; if he wasn’t careful, Lan Huan was sure he’d be eaten alive by the opportunistic vultures.

In fact, by the time Lan Huan had come back with Jiang Cheng, they were well on their way to breaking the man down.

He would not allow it.

These men would not corrupt the most beautiful and pure thing Lan Huan had been lucky enough to witness in this world.

So, Lan Huan got to work. He spent his time with the aging but still influential Madam Jin, drawing on his past experience as a Sect Leader to advise Jiang Cheng on how to proceed with clan decisions and tempering his volatile temper which urged him to fight with the lesser sects that chafed at being ordered around by an outsider.

By the time he was done at Koi Tower — status as an ex-Sect Leader or no, he was still the first Jade of Lan — no one would doubt that GusuLan stood behind the Jiang Sect Leader.

Then, deep into the night, when they no longer needed to play the part of strong Sect allies, Lan Huan watched Jiang Cheng cry.

He didn’t do it often.

Mostly, Jiang Cheng preferred to destroy LanlingJin property and scream at people to deal with his emotions.

But there were nights when he had a little too much to drink, and he let his walls drop to reveal the sensitive soul he kept under heavy lock and key.

The spark was small and faint, sick with sadness now, longing for his missing nephew.

Lan Huan wanted to help but he didn't know how.

Was he allowed to touch? Could he take the man into his arms and offer whatever cold comfort he could muster from inside him and give it to Jiang Cheng?

Lan Huan didn’t know the protocol for this, and he was loathe to ask a grieving, inebriated man what he wanted.

So, he did what he knew how to do: he played his guqin.

He plays a sad tune from his own heart, reflecting the pain LanlingJin would always invoke in him, but he overlays the melody with notes that bring to mind hope and happiness.

He played for the mistakes of the past, the reality of the present, and he played with the ardent wish for a better tomorrow.

He loses himself to his musings and for several nights plays straight into the morning, so by the time the third month of the disappearance rolls around, his fingertips are raw and shredded once more.

This time he feels them.

Feels their sting as sharply as the pain he feels missing two nephews and a cousin. He worries for Wen Ning, too, because he was also an uncle of sorts in this strange extended family they’ve built around one another.

Being numb for so long, Lan Huan didn't know how else to process his sadness but by concentrating on the pain emanating from his fingers.

It’s good to feel. Even if the feeling was pain.

A large, sword-roughened hand lands lightly on his, making him pause.

“Stop it.” Jiang Cheng says. He still looks drunk, probably won’t even remember this tomorrow, but at least he’s no longer crying. The only evidence of his tears was the redness around his eyes.

“Ah...I apologize. Is the sound bothering you?” Lan Huan makes to put away his instrument but Jiang Cheng’s hand keeps his in place.

“You play beautifully. Always.” Jiang Cheng whispers. Then he turns over their hands to reveal Lan Huan’s ugly, damaged fingers. “I want you to stop doing this to yourself.”

Lan Huan was embarrassed.

He had thought he had been hiding the injuries well, but he supposed that it would be hard to hide it from someone he spent practically all his waking hours with.

He tried to pull away again, hide his hands from sight, but Jiang Cheng was insistent. “Lan Huan.”

“I wanted to do it. I wanted to help you. I thought that a song would help you sleep better.” Lan Huan hedged.

It’s the truth, too.

He doesn’t know how to fix the disappearances, how to fix the corruption in Lanling Jin, doesn’t know where to start or if, as damaged as he was, he had any right to try to fix anything.

But maybe he could help Jiang Cheng get through this intact.

He wanted to do that more than anything.

Jiang Cheng shook his head and pressed Lan Huan’s hands to his lips as if he could kiss the wounds better. He can’t, Lan Huan knows, but it didn't stop his traitorous heart from clenching at the sentiment nonetheless.

“There’s no need.” Jiang Cheng continued. “You stayed with me. You’re here. That’s enough; you’re enough.”

He choked on his words, and fat tears rolled down his eyes once more. “Thank you. Thank you.” He said it like a mantra. Murmured it until he fell into a fitful sleep by Lan Huan’s side.

Lan Huan carried Jiang Cheng to bed, mindful of Jiang Cheng’s wish that he mind his hurt fingers.

Once he settled the Sect Leader under the covers, he took a second to muse over this man who was so full of contradictions and thought about what his words meant.

You’re here. You’re enough.

Was Lan Huan? He thought maybe the Lan Huan of Before would be, but he wasn’t sure about the Lan Huan of Now.

Yet, Jiang Cheng had never been one to lead people on using his words. He wasn’t the type to play mind games.

He wouldn’t lie.

So, maybe this Lan Huan was enough.

Different, but enough.

In the morning they get the news that Wei WuXian and A-Zhan have found an array and spell that could draw the missing people back to them.

It’s a busy day; Lan Huan barely has time to talk with Jiang Cheng, much less fly off to Qinghe Nie in a rush, before he’s being recruited to lead a contingent of GusuLan senior cultivators to help A-Zhan stabilize Wei WuXian’s highly experimental demonic array.

Many of them falter until only he and a handful of cultivators are left standing.

Lan Huan puts all his strength and focus into his playing, knowing that his barely healed fingers won’t be happy about the development — Jiang Cheng won’t be happy at the development — but also knowing what was at stake if he didn’t give the performance his all.

Everything goes over well, for once. They get everyone back in one piece if a little worse for wear, Jiang Cheng starts screaming at his nephew, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Things go back to how it was before, but not really.

This Lan Huan is enough. He’d done well. The voice in his head, this time, sounded like a half-drunk but painfully sincere Jiang Cheng.

The day they get Jin Ling, Lan SiZhui, Lan JingYi, and Wen Ning back was the last time he damages his fingers on purpose.

Alright. It was time.

Lan Huan was really going to do it.

There were a lot of distractions in the past year, but things had finally settled enough that he didn’t feel too bad about leaving.

Cultivating in seclusion here he comes.

He’s just finishing setting up his belongings on his shelf again. After that, he’d be all set.

He just had to move his xiao a little bit because it was encroaching on the spot he’d made for his favorite lotus-cloud doodle.

It was a quick scrawl on the back of one of the many treaties between Cloud Recesses and Unclean Realm, but Lan Huan had liked the curves that connected the blooms to the cloud pattern so much that he’d taken it out and framed it (it also helped cover up the fact that it was a clan document but Lan Huan didn’t see why he should go around declaring that).

On the other side of Liebing was his favorite jar of chili oil, specially imported (certainly not smuggled from right under Shushu's nose!) from Yunmeng Jiang. He used to offer them to Jiang Cheng when his face did that thing that said he was tolerating the bland GusuLan fare, but just barely.

On the shelf underneath, he housed the battered bowl A-Zhan had slammed into their wooden eating desk all those months ago.

Lan Huan had carefully prised it out from where it had been embedded deeply into the desk so Shushu wouldn’t find it and punish brother (and probably Wei WuXian) for vandalizing Lan property.

He had been pleasantly surprised to find that that bowl had survived A-Zhan’s jealousy-fueled rough handling.

He’d kept it because it was a little banged up but still holding on.

It spoke to Lan Huan, ok?

Beside it was the arrowhead he’d taken out of Jiang Cheng’s arm that first time the uncle and nephew duo had visited the mountain.

Lan Huan initially thought that Jin Ling had finally snapped and was trying to murder his uncle Jin sect-style, and he thought long and hard if he really wanted to get involved with another murder-plot with another Jin.

Seeing the two together, however, with their dramatics and emotionally stunted way of expressing their care with and for one another, he was willing to believe that the arrow had found its way into Jiang Cheng’s arm purely by accident.

Well, whatever had happened then, Lan Huan was glad for the series of events that had brought those two to the mountain.

A commotion outside his rooms distracted him from his musings.

Almost as if his wandering thoughts had summoned the boy, Jin Ling very dramatically burst into his room, screaming, “Uncle XiChen!”

Behind him, Lan Huan could hear Lan JingYi’s miffed voice loudly telling Jin Ling off for barging into other people’s rooms.

He sounded so much like Lan QiRen that Lan Huan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth.

Jin Ling grinned.

“Just like Master Lan QiRen, I know. Don’t tell him that though, JingYi gets prickly when we point out the resemblance,” Jin Ling stage-whispered as if sharing a secret.

“I’ll try not to.” Lan Huan promised. It would be easy to keep, too, since he was going into seclusion.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your ah... visit, Jin Ling?” Lan Huan asked.

Jin Ling immediately sobered from his playful mood. Lan Huan wondered what brought on the shift.

“About that.” Jin Ling started. He looked to his sides, thinking of what to say before assuming a low bowing position and simply blurting out, “I’d heard how you supported Jiujiu at Koi Tower while I was gone! Thank you for taking good care of him! You have my gratitude!”

Lan Huan was so taken aback by the exclamation that he could only think to lift Jin Ling from his bow, insisting that there was no need for thanks.

Jiang Chang was a dear friend and it was his honor to help.

Jin Ling wasn’t done yet though. He didn’t come up from the bow as he continued, “I mean, he’s not really the easiest person to deal with. He has the emotional range of a sour grape sometimes, you know? — but you did an excellent job of keeping him from whipping everyone who irritated him! Grandmother Jin was very impressed!”

“It was fine, really. Jiang Cheng just—“

“And I know he’s not really very good at politicking, his politician face is total, well, if you excuse the term shit, so I know you had a hand in dealing with the smaller sect leaders. I want to thank you for that too!”

Ok, that was pretty rude, but it seemed to have come from a sincere place, so he tried to tell Jin Ling so.

“And!” Jin Ling was on a roll, “I know Jiujiu gets really crabby and even more difficult when he’s stressed and, between you and I, I think we can agree that he could be a nightmare to have around, so I’d like to thank you for being so patient! You’re a saint, Uncle XiChen!”

Now he was definitely being mean to his uncle.

Lan Huan couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. Like uncle like nephew; both their personalities steamrolled everything in their path.

Lan Huan didn’t know if he should be troubled that maybe Jin Ling might really have it out for his uncle or fond that they were so similar.

“As I said, Jin Ling,” Lan Huan began again, “Your Jiujiu is my friend. Helping each other is what friends do.”

“Aaaand,” Jin Ling dragged the syllable, “As I was saying, you are an extraordinary man who gets along with Jiujiu very well — even better than we all expected, actually — Plus, I can definitely confirm that he sees you the same way. I really hope you can continue this friendship of yours in the years to come.”

The emphasis on the word friendship was odd, but this entire exchange was odd, so Lan Huan floundered on what to do.

“Of course we’ll keep being friends,” Lan Huan explained. “I’ll keep being your uncle’s friend as long as he wants me to be. Even when I’m in seclusion, I promi—“

“WHAT?!” Jin Ling bursts out. His head had shot up in shock, reminding Lan Huan that he had deferred his seclusion for so long that he’d completely forgotten to tell other people about it.

Tell Jin Ling about it, specifically.

Jin Ling sputtered. “You can’t go into seclusion!”

Lan Huan shook his head.

“It’s long overdue, Jin Ling. I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll miss you and Jiang Cheng, but this is something I really need to do.”

Jin Ling’s look of absolute devastation almost swayed Lan Huan to call off the entire thing, but he was determined to follow through with the plan.

“Do you really need to, Uncle XiChen?” Jin Ling’s voice was quieter now, and Lan Huan’s heart went out to him. Jin Ling had lost much too, even at such a young age.

“Yes.” Was all Lan Huan could say.

“Could you...” Jin Ling started, “Could you, maybe, delay it a little while more?”

Lan Huan had never seen the boy so serious. The crease of his brow looked so much like his uncle’s that he felt his resolve weaken.

“It’s just that it’s going to be my birthday soon.” Jin Ling bargains. “It’s going to be big. Really, really big. Everyone will be invited. You should come.”

Then, Jin Ling goes for the throat:

“I’ll be so busy with the preparations and the celebrations that I might not have enough time to spend with Jiujiu.

Won’t you come and spend time with him?”

Lan Huan was weak.

Things were beginning to smell like a setup.

Lan Huan couldn’t be sure if it was just the general atmosphere of Koi Tower causing his normally non-existent levels of paranoia to skyrocket, but he’d noticed how the people and circumstances around him were just a tad...off.

It wasn’t anything overly dramatic, but they were enough to set off alarm bells in Lan Huan’s head.

The accommodations were odd, for one.

Instead of the GusaLan contingent being put into a single area for convenience, he and A-Zhan and Wei WuXian were semi-sequestered from the main group.

In fact, they seemed closer to the Jiang contingent than was strictly proper.

He had initially put it down to Jin Ling giving Wei WuXian a chance to be closer to his foster-brother. The husbands’ investigation had been keeping them off-mountain too often, and Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng kept missing each other (sometimes only by a few hours!) so Lan Huan tried not to begrudge the brothers the opportunity.

But, if Lan Huan were more suspicious, he’d have thought that the timing and housing arrangements were too much of a coincidence.

Nah. It must have just been some really bad luck for the two brothers.

Honestly, he couldn’t think of any reason why someone would go through all that trouble to organize such a ruse.

What ate at him, though, was the fact that he was housed in the adjoining apartment to his Didi's. Did he really have to share the husbands’ accommodations?

I guess I won’t be sleeping very well tonight Lan Huan had thought with resignation.

Perhaps he could...ah...hangout with the juniors for the time being.

Lan Huan set off with the hope that he could find some other place to rest peacefully, but that plan was a bust.

Lan JingYi and Lan SiZhui reported that they had to go off immediately to find Jin Ling an appropriate birthday gift — and that, for surprise purposes, no one else was allowed to come. Not even Lan Huan.

The entire time, Lan JingYi was ranting about how Jin Ling had suddenly decided to throw a week-long birthday celebration to put he and Lan SiZhui in a bind.

Even Lan SiZhui looked less than pleased.

His sour expression was proof enough as he explained to Lan Huan that Jin Ling had originally told both of them that he was going to celebrate like a Lan, and so they were going to let it pass without comment.

This sudden need to have the most ostentatious birth-week party meant that Lan JingYi and Lan SiZhui didn’t have enough time to prepare a proper gift for their friend. Alternating between scrambling and stewing, the two set off for the town to find a joint present that the Little Stupid Mistress Jin had better appreciate Lan JingYi bit out.

Absently noting that Jin Ling’s two closest friends seemed very surprised at the turn of events, Lan Huan decided that letting those three work their issues out on their own was the better part of valor.

He stepped back and saw the two off to their secret errand.

Lan Huan returned to the accommodations rather down, until he located brother in the shared courtyard.

A-Zhan and Wei WuXian were sitting at one of the outdoor tables seemingly not doing anything that Lan QiRen wouldn’t approve of, so Lan Huan made to join them, even if he knew that just because they weren’t all over each other, it didn’t mean that they still weren’t doing something perverted.

Yes, Lan Huan was that desperate for company.

Ah!, he thought as he approached and made out a third figure. I’m safe.

Wen Ning was with them. This meant that the husbands were definitely not pulling an exhibitionist stunt in the middle of the day because the Ghost General always seemed to put A-Zhan in a non-amorous mood.

Lan Huan knew because frustration was always written all over A-Zhan’s impassive face when Wen Ning was around and Wei WuXian babied him.

As it was, A-Zhan was staring at the fierce corpse like he wanted to bore new holes into his skull. Wen Ning looked as cowed as ever.

Works for him. Maybe he could even convince Wen Ning to stay with them the entire week!

“Do you mind if I join you?” Lan Huan asked, and got a mixed bag of reactions.

Wei WuXian, indifferent to the tension oozing out right in front of him, happily greeted him and said, “Sure thing, XiChen-xiong! Come sit, come sit!” gesturing to the empty seat beside Wen Ning.

A-Zhan broke off his attempt to set Wen Ning on fire via eye contact and said “En!” while the feared Ghost General let out a “Meep!” and stuttered several words that Lan Huan couldn’t make out.

Not that he really wanted to, he was preoccupied with A-Zhan’s refusal.

The vehemence with which he said it stung a little.

“Is something wrong, brother?”

Visibly pulling himself together, A-Zhan stood up and greeted Lan Huan properly, his face apologetic. Lan Huan forgave him instantly.

“En.” He said. Taking Wei WuXian’s hand, he helped his confused husband stand. "Leaving.”

“We are?” Wei WuXian exclaimed. “But you were just about to tell Wen Ning and I something important, right?”

Wen Ning’s eyes seesawed between the two men as if trying to figure out the proper course of action based on body language alone.

“Mn.” A-Zhan confirmed. “Now.”

“But, we only just got here brother. We could sit for a little while,” Lan Huan said, moving to take the seat next to Wen Ning, who looked rather odd. Lan Huan couldn't place it though.

A-Zhan’s face looked directly at him and said with the straightest face he’d ever seen on his brother, “Tired? Rest.”

He then turned to look at the Ghost General. Something passed between them and, like he was whipped by Jiang Cheng’s Zidian, Wen Ning leaped from his seat to stand beside the husbands.

“Yes, Lan-gongzi,” the fierce corpse murmured. “You should rest here. We will…”

Wen Ning was obviously casting around for an excuse, looking more like a cornered animal than a re-animated corpse enjoying some company.

“We will,” the Ghost General started again with a little more conviction, “be touring Koi Tower and the Lanling Jin proper. I...ah...didn’t have much time to see the sights the other times I was here…”

Oh no.

“Because I was either being enslaved or about to be burnt along with the remnants of my clan,” the Ghost General finished.

Everyone was silent.

No one could figure out a response to that statement.

It was A-Zhan who bravely forged on and bid everyone leave with a decisive “Mn.”

As one slightly uncoordinated unit (for once, Wen Ning and Didi seemed to be operating under that same initiative and basically manhandled Wei WuXian into position), the three men faced the direction of the exit.

But their formation fell apart quickly.

Betraying his brothers (yes, Lan Huan can joke about it now. Sort of.) Wei WuXian blurted out, “But Lan Zhan! Ningning! If we’re going to explore Koi Tower, shouldn’t we invite brother-in-law as well? If anyone would know about the best sights it would be him!”

He craned his neck around and winked at Lan Huan, “What do you say, XiChen-xiong? It’d be fun!”

It was not fun.

Lan Huan found himself in the middle of the harried crowds in LanlingJin, flanked by the most awkward bit of company ever.

A-Zhan and Wei WuXian were probably having their first-ever lover’s quarrel, but, as Wei WuXian seemed completely oblivious to it, it wasn’t a very good one.

Wen Ning, on the other hand, had perfectly read the situation with A-Zhan’s face.

He was standing tensely as if in preparation to launch an attack or to defend his Wei-gongzi. His expression said that he wasn’t sure which either. Possibly both.

It was a mean feat for someone with cold corpse flesh to accomplish such a look, but Wen Ning was exceptional as usual.

Lan Huan was exasperated. The entire walk was spent in terse silence, and even he could tell that there was something going on — but no one was bothering to tell him about it!

He didn’t appreciate the secrecy — that never led anywhere good, in his experience — and he especially hated being left out.

Lan Huan was just about to remind everyone of their good manners when Wei WuXian, who had been walking a step ahead, suddenly stopped and visibly paled.

Right in front of them was Jin Ling’s gigantic spiritual dog Fairy, sitting in the middle on the cobblestone road.

She was also staring directly at Wei WuXian.

“L-Lan Zhan.” Wei WuXian let out a small pitiful whine.

“Wei Ying,” A-Zhan replied.

His brother’s face was molded into the mask he usually reserved during battle.

Lan Huan was slightly worried that he was planning on dealing with the dog in a very final manner, instead of driving the dog away like he usually did. But he simply nudged Wei WuXian to the side, urging him to move on.

Then he stopped, backtracked, and grabbed Wen Ning, as well.

“Brother,” A-Zhan told him. Well, alright, Lan Huan could keep the dog distracted while A-Zhan herded his shaking husband away.

Did he have to take Wen Ning too, though?

“Mn,” A-Zhan confirmed.

Walking away, A-Zhan gave Fairy a meaningful nod. The dog, tongue lolling out and looking as pleased as punch as a dog could ever be, bopped her head in return.

What.

Watching the second group of people walk away from him today, Lan Huan turned to Fairy and asked:

“Did my brother just nod at you?”

Then he thought better and rephrased his question:

”Did you just nod back?”

Instead of an answer like A-Zhan, fierce corpse and animal whisperer, probably got from the Fairy, all Lan Huan got was a lump of happy dog yipping and prancing around him.

Finding Jiang Cheng alone in the middle of the busy LanlingJin thoroughfare was an excellent coincidence.

Well…

Actually, now that he thought about it…

Jin Ling did say that he was going to be busy with his responsibilities, so Jiang Cheng was bound to be alone.

Lan Huan felt bad. He had been so preoccupied going around trying to find company that he had completely forgotten about the man who was probably his closest non-kin friend currently.

Some friend I’m being he thought, but Lan Huan quickly resolved to move past this and make the best of the opportunity he was given. What a pair he and Jiang Cheng made! But at least they didn't have to go through being on their own alone-alone.

The walk back to their quarters was filled with animated conversation, just them catching up on sect matters, talking about Jin Ling.

Anything, really.

Lan Huan liked listening to Jiang Cheng’s voice.

Even when the topic of Jin GuangYao was brought up and Jiang Cheng tensed up for putting his foot in his mouth, Lan Huan found it easy to brush it off.

It’d been nearly a year since the events at GuanYinTemple. The betrayal still hurt — Lan Huan suspected it always would — but it was a manageable, faraway pain like the gruesome open wound was finally closed and healed over.

The past no longer held him hostage.

It was a good feeling.

And, even better news: when they’d reached Lan Huan’s quarters, he found that Jiang Cheng and he were practically neighbors!

Lan Huan had a split second of doubt where something niggled at the back of his brain about a set-up, but he passed on that thought because at least if brother and Wei WuXian got too rowdy tonight, he knew he could go visit Jiang Cheng.

Maybe he could even play Liebing for Jiang Cheng! He had been working on a song and wanted to ask the other man what he thought.

Actually, he wanted to ask the man a lot of things.

His favorite color, if his favorite type of flower was a lotus or something else, how he came up with Fairy’s name, why there was an inter-sect ban-list that had his name written on the scroll in mildly ominous calligraphy...

A lot of dumb things actually.

It was weird, Lan Huan was weird.

He better get used to not knowing the answers because he was never going to ask Jiang Cheng about it.

Today must have been an upside-down day, however, because he got a lot of answers. Not the answers to his dumb questions or why Jin Ling and brother seemed to be in cahoots with each other over...something, but answers about Jiang Cheng.

Well, one answer.

It was staring him in the face, too. Which, Lan Huan couldn’t do much about that because after the scuffle where he had to hold down Jiang Cheng — the really get-up-close-and-personal-and-put-all-his-weight-on-him kind of holding down — the other man had just...looked at him.

Lan Huan felt Jiang Cheng’s eyes wash over him and tried to fight off the flush that threatened to break out on his face when he saw something like approval flash across the other man’s features.

Oh, boy.

He really liked that look. Jiang Cheng could look at him like that all day, please.

And, the hard ground and twisty position they were in notwithstanding, Lan Huan found that he was totally into this...sort of aggressive platonic not-cuddle he had going on with Jiang Cheng.

So, yes, more of that, too, please.

...

Who am I kidding? There was nothing platonic about his cuddle intentions.

Witnessing brother and Wei WuXian play another one of their tie-up games (surprisingly vanilla of them today) was the wake-up call that his in-denial brain had needed to come into terms with what he’d wanted to do to Jiang Cheng.

Well, he didn’t want to tie him up.

He didn’t think Jiang Cheng would appreciate limiting his mobility.

But he definitely took note of some of the other things brother and his husband were getting into before Jiang Cheng slapped a hand over his eyes (waaaaaay too late for that but the sentiment was appreciated) and hauled themselves out of the quarters.

Now, they were in Jiang Cheng’s apartment (alone his brain helpfully supplied) and the man was bent over trying to reach something hidden underneath a floor board.

Lan Huan felt his eyebrows rise at the picture of Jiang Cheng stretched out and bent over because his brain was supplying him with some truly filthy images of what he could do about Jiang Cheng when he was that way.

Thank you, Wei WuXian.

Wow, but how had he missed his big fat crush on the Jiang Sect leader? Lan Huan was feeling so dumb right now.

Feeling like there was nothing for it, Lan Huan said “Fuck it” and knocked back the saucer of alcohol he was offered without checking himself.

He felt the terrible burning line it drew down the back of his throat and coughed at the taste.

The haze of inebriation was getting to him fast, so at least he had bought himself time to figure out what to do with what he’d just figured out about himself.

What had he said while he’d been drunk that night?

Lan Huan needed to know — immediately — because Jiang Cheng definitely treated him so much nicer and better than before-slash-other-people afterward. Nothing too overt, but Lan Huan noticed that the other man seemed more relaxed and tactile the more time they spent together (and they spent a lot of time together).

It was flattering, but without knowing what he’d done or said to Jiang Cheng, Lan Huan was in Limbo trying to figure out how to proceed.

Had he confessed? Had he proposed? Good grief, was he walking around with his fiancee the entire week and didn’t know it?

Lan Huan winced because that sounded like a trashy plot from one of the more risqué romance novels that Nie HuaiSang kept leaving around after one of his visits to Cloud Recesses. (Not that he'd read them.)

He probably didn’t do that.

Maybe.

Either way, who would have thought that his drunk self was such a good wingman?

Certainly not Lan Huan! He was very, very unprepared.

So, he had let Jin Ling’s birthday week pass half-panicking and half-basking in all the special attention Jiang Cheng was paying him.

Then, when the GusuLan party got back to Cloud Recesses and Lan Huan didn’t have a convenient Jiang Cheng to distract himself with, Lan Huan let himself fall into a full-blown panic.

Had he messed it up?

Did Jiang Cheng think he had led him on and was now regretting everything?

No!

Outwardly, though, he tried to keep his cool. He was with Shushu this morning; it seemed rather rude to have a breakdown over a crush when the day was so nice and Lan QiRen had yet to finish his first cup of tea.

He didn’t want to break the tranquil air they had going on.

“I just don’t know what to do.” Lan Huan says, apropos of nothing.

Lan QiRen doesn’t need him to expound, thankfully. He nods sagely and says, “Of course you don’t.”

“Oh? You understand?” Lan Huan was relieved. It looked like his uncle had somehow divined his predicament and was going to impart some good advice.

“Why, yes. The path was already laid out for you, boy. But still you dither.”

Lan Huan leaned forward, hanging onto every word that was coming from his Shushu.

It was very helpful advice. Uncle really was wise.

“I see, sir.” Lan Huan began. “How do you think I should address the matter?”

Lan QiRen looked at him as if the answer should be obvious.

“Why, you should go! Right at this moment, in fact. It’s long overdue!”

Of course! He had liked Jiang Cheng long before he realized he liked Jiang Cheng.

He shouldn’t waste any more time overthinking!

“Then, Uncle, with your blessing, I’ll be taking my leave—”

Lan QiRen let an exasperated sigh, “Yes, yes—”

“—and be heading off to YunmengJiang to tell Jiang Cheng how I feel about him right now,” Lan Huan finished. He jumped up and away from the pavilion they had been occupying, ignoring his Shushu's calls for him to come back and explain himself.

He had a sneaking suspicion that they’d been running two different conversations concurrently, but, as he had heard exactly what he’d needed to hear, Lan Huan was opting to get out while the answer favored him and not, say, recommended that he go into seclusion.

Where there was no Jiang Cheng.

Lan Huan probably broke some sort of flight speed record driving Shuoyue hard in a straight line to Lotus Pier. He was a man on a mission; he wasn’t going to get distracted. He barely even noticed when his ribbon flew off from the insane speed he was going. He didn’t even slow down.

He’d simply snatched the cloth out of the air, hurriedly wound it around his hand, and kept flying as fast as he could.

Upon alighting in the courtyard of the restored Jiang Mansion, some of the air was taken out of his sails; Jiang Cheng was not around. The startled servants had informed him that he had set off last night to track his nephew and the two Lan juniors down.

That was a bit frustrating but Lan Huan still chuckled to himself. Jiang Cheng had told him he’d try to give Jin Ling space and trust him with his responsibilities more, but it seemed like he wouldn’t be getting rid of his old habit that easy.

He liked...loved...that about the man.

Growing up with absentee parents, he could relate to what the Jin orphan was going through.

He would have appreciated an uncle who was so dedicated to his nephew like the Jiang Sect leader.

It was a simple fact that the boy’s relationship with his uncle was decidedly closer than what he and A-Zhan had with their uncle.

He didn’t begrudge what he had with Lan QiRen, but he was more of a guardian and teacher to him and brother. He wasn’t always there as a family member when they needed it most.

Jin Ling was lucky to have Jiang Cheng’s in his life, even if he sometimes came off as overbearing.

He wondered if he’d be willing to share his uncle with Lan Huan?

Remembering what Jiang Cheng had told him about Jin Ling finally growing up and coming into his own, Lan Huan had high hopes for the future as he made his way down to Lotus Pier.

The party was most likely going to be heading back on a boat, one of the servants had said, so Lan Huan rushed off to greet Jiang Cheng as he docked.

The wait wasn’t long or unpleasant. The morning sun shone brightly and the air was infused with the smell of lotuses in bloom. It made his heart swell that out of the bloodshed of his sect’s massacre, Jiang Cheng had worked a miracle and breathed new life into his ancestral home.

A truly extraordinary man, even for all his flaws.

Probably more extraordinary because of it.

Seeing a boat approach, Lan Huan raised Liebing to his lips and began to play a sweet melody, beckoning the boat to reach the pier faster so he could see Jiang Cheng sooner.

Because this was it.

What he’d unconsciously missed and been looking for in the past year.

He wouldn’t have found it in seclusion, he knew that now.

He never would have found it in his Sect Leader duties either.

What his heart longed for was in this noisy, chaotic port town, coming out of the boat shelter with a confused look on his handsome features.

Jiang Cheng walked to the prow and let the boat carry him to the dock until only a couple of inches and different platforms separated the two men.

“A-Huan,” Jiang Cheng started, but then he blushed and corrected himself. “That is—XiChen-xiong, Lan Huan. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Lan Huan caught Jiang Cheng’s eye and smiled.

“It’s alright, you can call me A-Huan, still, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng’s blue eyes were round. He was about to say something but upon looking up from his bow, he held back. Lifting his hand, he brought it to Lan Huan’s brow and brushed it across the space where his cloud-pattern ribbon usually sat.

“A-Huan, your ribbon,” he murmured.

Remembering that he’d forgotten to replace it in his rush to get to the pier, Lan Huan opened his hand where the ribbon was haphazardly wound.

Struck by inspiration, Lan Huan took it and pushed it into the Jiang Sect leader’s open hand.

“About that.” He started. Then he swallowed and licked his lips — he didn’t miss how Jiang Cheng’s eyes tracked the movement, now that he knew to look — before continuing. There was no backing out now. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps the clouds aren’t really my style.

Perhaps, I thought, lotuses would suit me better?”

Jiang Cheng gaped at Lan Huan.

He could tell that the other man was trying to decide if he meant what thought he’d said.

Lan Huan tried to put all his feelings into the look he was sharing with Jiang Cheng, but knew that it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t his brother or his uncle who could read each other easily.

Jiang Cheng was something else. He was more.

So, taking a page from the Jiang Cheng school of demonstrate what you mean, not say what you think, Lan Huan leaned forward and sealed his lips over the Sect Leaders’.

Jiang Cheng let out a muffled squeak and completely froze.

Oh, no.

Had he read the signs wrong? Did Jiang Cheng not want this, too?

Hot shame ran through him. He never wanted to force the other man, so, even if it was with regret, he made himself pull back.

“I’m sorry—“

“The fuck you stop for?!” Jiang Cheng’s face was as red as the sun as he cut Lan Huan off.

“I thought—“

“I wasn’t ready, dammit!” Jiang Cheng punctuated his announcement by grabbing hold onto the front of Lan Huan’s robes and dragging him down for another kiss.

This time both parties were fully informed of the activity and were enthusiastic participants.

They were both unpracticed, but the kiss was perfect to Lan Huan.

It felt like a promise. It felt like coming home.

Lan Huan was floating on air, flying on the feeling of Jiang Cheng clumsily licking into his mouth.

Then Lan Huan was literally flying.

Jiang Cheng had pulled him in so abruptly that he began to tip into the boat, which then tilted to the side due to the sudden addition of his weight.

Lan Huan had tried to compensate but overcorrected in the other direction.

He tumbled into the water, bringing Jiang Cheng along.

The splash they made when they crashed into the Lotus Pier waters was huge. Lan Huan would have panicked at suddenly being submerged, but the waters were so clear at this time of day and he could see Jiang Cheng quickly reaching over to him.

When they break the surface, Jiang Cheng is out of breath and cursing, although they’ve barely been under for a handful of seconds by Lan Huan’s count.

“Fuck! Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” Jiang Cheng babbles while he treads water. He has Lan Huan tightly by the waist and he hold tightens around him every time he apologizes.

Lan Huan winds his arms around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and shuts him up with another kiss. This time Jiang Cheng quickly gets with the program. He melts into it, snaking his arms around Lan Huan as if he’s afraid that a rogue current will carry Lan Huan off if he so much as loosens his grip.

When they break their kiss, Jiang Cheng has a goofy, smiling, almost vulnerable expression on his face. Lan Huan imagines that his face is the same.

Pressing their foreheads together, Lan Huan huffs out a small laugh.

This is pretty ridiculous, but he can’t find it in himself to be too embarrassed.

A rich, booming laugh joins Lan Huan from somewhere behind him. Sometime while Jiang Cheng and he were having an impromptu swim, the boy must have followed his uncle out of the boat enclosure and saw them.

The peaceful moment with Jiang Cheng is broken as he screams at his nephew, “What are you laughing at?! Mind your business, or I’ll break your legs.”

Jin Ling only laughs harder and points at them.

“Finally! Finally, I’ve been waiting for this for an entire year, but I look away for a hot second and miss it!”

“What are you on, brat,” Jiang Cheng hollers back.

Lan Huan buries his face into Jiang Cheng’s neck and murmurs, “It’s alright A-Cheng, I think I understand. I’ll tell you later.”

Still not breaking his grip, Jiang Cheng softens and leans further into their embrace.

“Fine. I—I’ll trust you on this, A-Huan.”

Lan Huan smiles a secret smile in Jiang Cheng’s arms. Later, he’ll also tell the Sect Leader that he’s a pretty good swimmer; treading water isn’t a challenge. There’s really no need to be holding him up so tightly.

But that’s for later.

Right now he enjoys how Jiang Cheng’s strong body feels against his own, sure as anything he’d known in his life that Jiang Cheng would hold him up even if he was more than capable of doing so on his own.

Today was a good day to not go into seclusion.