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“And remember,” Sect Leader Jiang instructs the line of junior disciples in the main hall, “that under no circumstances you are to interact with the water folk. If you see one, look away. If you are approached by one, speak politely and refuse all invitations.”
A bunch of teenagers pretend to listen attentively, but he knows that their minds are far away already, anticipating the mission. Jiang Wanyin sighs, wearily. It’s one of their first serious expeditions, and although there’s almost nothing dangerous about water ghouls, overexcited children are a bad combination with anything.
A disciple on duty breaks his lecture with a curt bow and an announcement:
“Sect Leader, we have visitors.”
“Who?”
“Sect Leader Lan and two of his disciples.”
“What, now?” That’s strange. Lan Xichen hasn’t sent any letter to indicate their arrival, so it must have been a spontaneous decision, which one would not expect from Sect Leader Lan. “Are they here? Lead them in!”
The disciple leaves with a bow, and next time the door to the hall opens, Jiang Wanyin indeed sees Lan Xichen and two of the older Gusu Lan disciples. He has seen them a couple of times, but nothing that would warrant remembering their names.
They exchange bows and greetings as expected, and then he shoots a cursory look at Sect Leader Lan:
“May I inquire as to what brings you here?”
“We’ve been settling a dispute in one of the neighbouring regions,” answers Lan Xichen, his voice melodious and polite as ever. “We managed to solve the matter promptly, and while we were nearby I remembered your most kind invitation. I was hoping to intrude upon your hospitality and travel to Gusu tomorrow, if that would be agreeable to you.”
“As I said before,” Sect Leader Jiang says, unable to answer anything else, “you are always welcomed here.”
He means it, he means every word when it comes to Lan Xichen. They haven’t seen each other for a couple of months since the festival, and this whole time Jiang Cheng tried to reconcile with his feelings. In his case it was more like trying to strangle them alive, so they wouldn’t get in the way. Didn’t help much, though. Standing there in front of the other man, he felt as deeply as on the morning he’d recognized his feelings.
Sect Leader Lan breaks eye contact to glance over to the Jiang disciples, standing there as model students and definitely not whispering something to each other.
“Please forgive us if our arrival had interrupted your business,” he says to Sect Leader Jiang.
“We're heading out to a lake in the north,” Jiang Wanyin explains the situation. ”There's been some water ghouls terrorizing..." he takes a moment to consider how to say mermaids without being taken for a lunatic, "...local population. It's the junior disciples' task and I am there to supervise it, and you are probably tired, but if you'd like to join…”
"Oh, I most certainly would." Xichen seems delighted by the prospect of watching a bunch of thirteen year olds deal with water spirits. He also probably hasn't nighthunted for some time, thinks Jiang Cheng, so even the one in a broad daylight seems like a lot of fun. The Lan disciples, on the other hand, are not that enthusiastic, and after a brief conversation with their sect leader they ask if they could stay in the residence and have some rest. Jiang Cheng orders some servants to take care of them, then turns to his juniors.
“Now there’s not one, but two sect leaders supervising your mission. I hope you will understand the gravity of the situation and will behave accordingly,” he adds one of his signature glances to that.
“Yes, Sect Leader,” the children reply in unison, looking properly terrified. Good.
“Shall we?” he says to Lan Xichen.
There are twelve disciples on a mission, two older disciples who are in charge of educating the little ones, and two sect leaders. Jiang Cheng divides them all into three boats, so that the first pack of juniors is accompanied by an older disciple, the second bunch, with some of the rowdiest boys, has an older boy and a guest – Lan Xichen. He himself takes the third boat to observe what is happening on the first two. In that order they take off.
The lake is calm today. The sun is shining, although its might is weakened by the end of the summer, and the air is warm. A perfect day for a short trip to kill some monsters.
The juniors who got to ride in one boat with Sect Leader Lan are beyond ecstatic. If not for the necessity to actually row the boat, they would jump out of their skin, vibrating with excitement. Xichen sits in the back, conversing with the older disciple who is in charge of that pack. The guy is looking at the Lan as if he hung the moon, and Jiang Wanyin can't blame him. A crush on Sect Leader Lan is a thing everyone went through in their teens.
So very fortunate of Jiang Cheng to acquire said crush in his thirties.
As the boats glide towards the lake, he thinks of their correspondence in the past months. They have been writing as usual, which meant he received one or two letters a week, but after the festival it felt like writing was somehow a difficult task for Lan Xichen. He grasped for words, lost trail of thoughts or asked questions out of nowhere, till two weeks at the end of the second moon cycle of the summer when there were no letters at all. A week of silence often meant that Sect Leader Lan was overloaded with work, but two weeks were alarming. А letter finally came at the beginning of the next week, when Jiang Cheng was ready to storm off to Cloud Recesses or at least write to Wei Wuxian, and was… normal. Jiang Cheng breathed out and returned to his unsuccessful attempts to quell his feelings. Some days it almost felt possible.
“Sect Leader, we have arrived,” one on the boys informs him, though he knows that already.
Everyone stands up, battle-ready. One of the girls on his boat asks “Is everyone ready?” and then, receiving a signal from each boat, draws a spirit-attracting talisman and slams it on the lake surface. The water instantly comes alive, ghouls drawn to the surface by the spell create whirlwinds around the boats, and children, brave, determined children, begin their task.
Their movements are swift, efficient, they are good at working as a team, always aware where the others are, where a fellow sibling needs their help. Jiang Cheng can't help but feel pride watching his disciples handle the enemy. One time, a creature slips past their defences, unnoticed until it’s almost too late, but a sword comes upon a tendril that was about to vine around a boy’s ankle. Lan Xichen hides Shuoyue in the scabbard, and Jiang Cheng gives him a disapproving look. He recognizes the desire to help the little ones, but they also must learn, which they won’t if you take care of everything for them. A good option was to warn the disciple or someone nearby. Xichen knows that too, of course he does, yet he smiles at Jiang Cheng like a child caught trying to steal a candy, and he is helpless before that smile.
The kids deal with three rounds of attacks, till there’s no more ghouls coming to the surface. When the last one is finished, they look around, checking for any signs of monsters they’d missed. Jiang Cheng knows that there are none left, but lets them inspect the water anyway. It’s their mission.
“Are you done?” he asks curtly, and after a slightly less unanimous “Yes, Sect Leader,” gestures them to turn around, homeward.
Later, events come to him in fragments. One – he turns around to see where the boat is going, catching the last glimpse of Xichen’s smile, two – he hears a splash and turns around, ready to scold anyone who dares to relax before the mission is over, three – he sees Lan Xichen submerged under the waves.
Before Jiang Cheng knows, he is out of his outer robes and in the water. It's colder than he expected and deeper too, but he is used to the river in any of her appearances, so it doesn't matter to him, not when he has one goal in mind – to save Lan Xichen.
Who is not in dire need of saving though, as he realises, already out of the boat. The white outer robe spreads in the water like a blooming flower, but the man seems to hold himself well, no panic, no inclination to drown himself with frantic movements.
"Are you alright?" he checks on the not-drowning man.
"I'm fine, thank you," Lan Xichen nods.
He helps Xichen to get on his boat and then ushers all boats back home to change into something dry. As his mind drifts slightly, lulled by the disciples roaring, he hears a voice he knows so well, smooth as waves, old as time.
"He could have been a better swimmer, but I guess you can't have it all, right?" And even though no one except him hears her, his ears blush from embarrassment.
"I'm sure he can do better, he was just surprised."
"Fine, defend your love, boy. But then you should invite him for a swim, so he could demonstrate his true abilities. Preferably during the sunset. Or under the moonlight, that is also very romantic."
"There'll be none of that."
"My dear, would you deny an old soul's curiosity?"
"You could have asked me before pushing him off that boat," he makes a guess.
"This was not me but those lovely disciples of yours, believe me. You might want to talk to them afterwards."
Jiang Cheng frowns. More likely it was a poor joke, but the children seemed to have enough respect for Zewu-jun not to make him the victim of a prank. This needs to be addressed.
"He might not be the best at swimming,” the River continues, “but he has a good heart, and good intentions. You have my blessings".
"What for? We're just friends. He doesn't..."
"Then – for friendship."
He is not sure if he needed the blessing, but for some reason it's relieving to have it.
At their arrival Jiang Wanyin makes sure that Lan Xichen is passed to the careful hands of servants, who know how to take care of a shivering man and where spare robes are kept. He also instructs his disciples to wait in the room he uses as his study, while he quickly changes into something dry himself and goes back to find a crowd of children musing over the performance evaluation they are going to receive.
Jiang Chang sees only their backs since they all turned to face the table, but he still can name every one of them. Orphans of the war, talented boys and girls from families with too many kids, children of the Lotus Pier. Yunmeng Jiang never had as many disciples as Lans or Jins, but that way he knows his students: their character, their thoughts. Or so he had thought before today.
“Do you think he’d noticed?” he hears one of the girls from the second boat whisper to her neighbour.
“Noticed what, Jiang Dong?” he says and the girl almost jumps.
“Nothing, Sect Leader,” she answers, bowing with everyone to Jiang Wanyin.
“I assume that this is what you were thinking when you decided to push Sect Leader Lan off the boat?” He manages the right amount of steel in his voice: children’s eyes dart to the floor, hiding guilty faces.
“We didn’t push him, so to speak,” Jiang Dong starts trying to get her pack out of the mess they’ve gotten themselves into.
“We just… rocked the boat a little bit,” adds her neighbour, trying to help, and gets poked on the side immediately. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes with a sigh. Yunmeng Jiang, everyone. Of course they knew exactly how to rock the boat without being noticed, just enough to knock over a standing man. The sect’s most dangerous secret weapon.
He quickly reminds himself to calm down. Though their behaviour was unbecoming of any cultivator, their mission was completed with very few mistakes, so it’s not like they were good-for-nothing, impolite little brats, not at all.
“Just what on Earth,” he continues wearily, “were you thinking?”
“We thought that you saving Sect Leader Lan from water would, ugh…” Jiang Xia, an older boy responsible for that boat, replies, but, being a little bit slow with words, he can’t finish the sentence properly.
“Strengthen the relationships between our sects,” a friend comes to his rescue.
“That!” finishes Jiang Xia, as if Jiang Qiu just took the words out of his mouth. Those two will be the death of him, probably.
What was that even supposed to mean? “Strengthen the relationships” had a strange ring to it and Jiang Cheng felt faint blush gathering up on his face. For gods' sake.
“Please refrain from intervening into inter-sect affairs from now on,” he manages.
They seem to mean no harm, so he doesn’t scold them as hard as he could, but gives them a scare nonetheless. He talks them through the worst-case scenario that starts with Lan Xichen dying or taking offence in their actions and ends with total war Yunmeng Jiang has to fight against everyone else, but during Qinghe Nie joining war efforts the offended or dead Lan Xichen interrupts him by entering his study.
And his breath hitches.
Jiang Cheng knew hypothetically that Lan Xichen would look good clad in Yunmeng Jiang signature colours, because the man would look good in anything, really, and Jiang Cheng tried not to give in to such thoughts anyway. So he is mentally unprepared to actually see the sect leader of Gusu Lan donned in deep violet of the robes he lended him.
He is absolutely stunning. Violet highlights his pale skin, brings up his dark eyes and jet-black hair, still a little damp. A subtle embroidered lotus motif spreads around his chest.
“Jiang Wanyin? I'm sorry, I'll wait outside.”
“No need. We're almost done,” he assures, catching glances his disciples exchange while he tries to gather his wits.
“Two weeks of chores and extra hours of night patrol,” he barks to them. “Dismissed”
They escape head low, trying to hide giddy smiles on their faces. “Little lake devils,” he thinks and shakes his head as the last disciple leaves the room and suddenly he is alone with Sect Leader Lan.
“They probably just wanted to play a prank on me,” says Xichen. “They are still kids after all, and this is no Cloud Recesses.”
“Thank you for acknowledging it, but still, they ought to be punished. You're a sect leader and a guest. And, besides, what if you were not a good swimmer, and what if I wasn't there to react? What if everything…”
“Ah, but you were. There. Thank you for coming to my rescue,” and he looks at Jiang Cheng with a small shy smile and unexplainable fondness in his eyes, that for a flash of a second Jiang Cheng is almost certain that the junior's stupid plan was not actually that stupid. He shoves this thought aside. He’s not, they aren’t, no use in hoping…
What if?
“I still have a lot to do...” Jiang Cheng begins, mildly terrified of how he is going to end the sentence. Until he says the final words, he still has space to maneuver out of the situation: to run, hide, never see Lan Xichen in personal setting, clad in purple that suits him so well, or to bring their relationship back to the safe shore of being acquaintances, maybe one or two letters a month. The truth is as simple as that: he doesn’t want to. He wants to see him, to know him, to be there with him, for him – as much as Lan Xichen would allow.
And maybe if he asks, his wish will be granted.
"However, I should be free in a couple of hours. And since you're staying here, and have proved to be an excellent swimmer, would you like to... join me for a swim later in the evening?”
The proposal felt incredibly awkward, but it was because of his feelings towards Lan Xichen. If not for those unnecessary things, then it would have been a simple invitation to a friend. Now he is positive he is blushing – hopefully, the other sect leader hasn’t noticed.
“I would love to,” replies Lan Xichen. “Though I have a favour to ask.”
“What?”
“May I paint you?” seeing puzzlement on Jiang Cheng's face, he explains, "You don’t have to do anything, just let me stay here while you work.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Lan Xichen goes to retrieve paint and paper from his guest room and comes back, while Jiang Cheng asks to bring them something to eat here and settles to work. There is a pile of documents on his table: he sorts through them and starts with the most urgent ones. He notices from the corner of his eyes that Xichen sits down, not directly in front of him, but on the side. Maybe the lightning is better that way.
Jiang Cheng loves watching the man paint. The way his accurate hands leave traces of colour on the paper, the way he bites his lip in deep concentration – Sect Leader Jiang does his best to focus on his work, but the presence of Sect Leader Lan is not so easy for him to ignore. He feels the painter’s gaze on him and raises his head to meet Xichen’s eyes.
“Is anything wrong?” Sect Leader Lan asks.
“You’ve been staring.”
“I’ve been painting,” and his radiant smile makes Jiang Cheng take a deep breath lest his heart will burst out.
“Why would you want to paint me?” he asks, attempting to calm the stupid beating thing in his chest. “Are the landscapes here not to your liking anymore?”
“I found that my art was lacking something,” Xichen replies, going back to painting.
“I sincerely doubt that, but if you think so… And what was that?”
“You.”
That answer hits Jiang Cheng like a blow. “Care to elaborate?” he asks, confused.
“I’ll try,” Xichen adds another stroke of brush to the painting. “I was looking at the drawing I made on the day of the festival. I remembered everything and understood that you were all around me, and in that landscape I painted too – but I wanted to see your face.”
The words ring like bells in Jiang Cheng’s head. He too longed to see Xichen’s face when they were apart. Sometimes he was bold enough to imagine it, when the day’s toll was beside him, in the dark of his bedroom, on the verge between dreams and reality. He was always extremely conscious not to spill these feelings into their correspondence next morning, as now he tries to contort his face back into a neutral expression. Thankfully, Xichen ducks his head in his drawing again, and Jiang Cheng returns to the letter he’s been composing.
Hours fly by in monotonous paperwork. Sometimes Jiang Wanyin steals glances at Lan Xichen, absorbed in painting, sometimes Lan Xichen takes in a sight of Sect Leader Jiang consumed by his duties, deep in his thoughts, to transfer the image he sees onto the paper. Sometimes their eyes meet, but neither says a word, and it takes Jiang Cheng all his willpower to look away from the soft smile Sect Leader Lan gives him.
When Sect Leader Jiang is done with his duties for today, Lan Xichen hides his painting away, saying that it’s not finished yet, not good enough. Jiang Wanyin doubts if anything about him can be not enough. Xichen does not say that, instead opting to talk about literally anything else, and they spend the time before dinner walking around the residence and discussing the upcoming conference in Qinghe.
They come back for dinner that is served for the whole sect, where Jiang Wanyin finally tells
the junior disciples that yes, they have passed their test and now ready for the next step in their education. He avoids the topic of their crime and punishment, but after the dinner he takes some time to vaguely explain the situation to one of his senior disciples who is in charge of distributing chores and patrol shifts.
He is forced to stay a while longer as two disciples arrive from their task in the city close to the south borders. They want to report their success immediately, to which sect leader complies: it was a difficult case involving a few missing people, a fox and, as it turns out, a shape-shifting monster, so he’s glad to know that the matter is settled. However his mind is drifting away from the report and to the evening he had promised Lan Xichen. He can’t help but be relieved when they are done.
Jiang Cheng takes Xichen out of the Lotus Pier and down by the path – a shortcut leading to the river.
He used to come here with his brother, racing towards the water. He would also come here alone when he needed to think. Later he frequently brought Jin Ling along, when the boy became his responsibility, and young master Jin adored the way rocks hit the water surface. In the hardest of times swimming here helped him to spend the pent-up frustration and anger of the day and exhaust himself to the point when he actually could sleep.
Bringing Lan Xichen here felt a lot like bringing him into his heart.
The evening was quiet. After a hot day it was a delight: cool breeze rustling the leaves of a tree growing near. A setting sun gave everything a pale peach hue, and the sky, cloudless during the day, was now full of wavy lines here and there. It was beautiful and definitely, definitely not romantic at all.
“Ah, finally!” the River greets him enthusiastically. ”Now make him undress.”
“You! Have you no shame?”
“I run through many docks and ports, child, you think I have any of that left?” she teases. “Are you going to swim in your outer robe?”
He sighs and strips down to his pants, catching a sight of Lan Xichen doing the same and carefully folding the purple clothes in a neat pile.
Lan Xichen looked good. That was no secret that he ranked first among cultivators of their generation, and as much was evident from his face features, his effortless grace and outlines of his body well-hidden under flowing clothes. To see him without layers of robes, bathing in rays of a gentle evening sun…
Jiang Cheng is suddenly very aware that his own body is also an object of the other’s attention, and that is something he was not ready for. He doesn’t attempt to hide. He wasn't proud of his scars – but if he would get defensive about them people would try to attack him in that vulnerable place, and he couldn't give them that. Lan Xichen won’t say anything, he is too polite for that anyway, but what he thinks counts on so many levels that Jiang Cheng is suddenly anxious.
“Staring again?” he hides his insecurities in an attack.
“Just thinking,” replies Lan Xichen. “I probably would have brought ink and brushes here if I knew I would see such a sight.” Blush starts gathering up around his neck and creeps up to his face when he understands his words.
“Huh?” That's all the reaction Jiang Cheng can give right now.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“This was a compliment, right?” he interrupts Xichen, as a strange smile finds its way on his face. “Then there’s no need to take it back.”
Lan Xichen does not relax properly. “Right,” he says instead, turning to face the river, “Shall we? Though I’m not sure I can keep up with you. I’m not as good a swimmer as you are.”
“Care to demonstrate?” Something goes to Jiang Cheng’s head, he barely registers the words he says, “Let’s play a game of tag? We used to do this a lot as kids.”
“It’s when one participant runs away and the other should catch them?” clarifies Xichen.
‘He had probably never played that, not with their strict Lan rules, he will decline this instant and think me too childish’ drums in Jiang Cheng’s head as he nods.
“Okay,“ says Lan Xichen, “catch me,” and jumps into the water.
Jiang Wanyin almost laughs aloud as the broad back of Sect Leader Lan swims away from him in fast, strong movements. He gives the other some time to gain speed, while he ties his hair in a bun, and then follows along, not willing to be defeated.
The thrill of chase, the sun sparkling on the water, the feeling of freedom and lightness in his chest and his limbs – Jiang Cheng never felt so in tune with the whole world as when he is in the movement, fighting against the current.
The sight of Lan Xichen is not so far away now. He swims up to him side by side and tugs them both under water, catching him, claiming victory. Lan Xichen is in his arms, his untied hair is flowing in the water all around them, and then in one movement Xichen’s lips are on his. It startles Jiang Cheng so much that he inhales and immediately resurfaces, coughing up some water.
“Wanyin? Are you alright?” The worried face of Lan Xichen appears next to him. He nods, breathing in and wondering what has just happened. He searches for any signs on the other’s face, but finds only concern – for him, he had nearly drowned, that’s it. So maybe he had just imagined it, and there was nothing.
“Let’s head for the shore?” suggests Xichen, and though Jiang Cheng is neither tired nor in danger, he just starts to regret the whole idea altogether and accepts.
He thinks that Sect Leader Lan will say that he is done for today and start dressing up, but instead the man sits down on the riverbank to look at the water. Jiang Cheng sits beside him, and waits patiently.
“I’m sorry, what I did was inappropriate, and it frightened you, causing a threat to your life,” Lan Xichen bites his lower lip and half-smiles, “Were we in Gusu, I would be due to some repercussions.”
“Well,” Jiang Cheng says, some dangerous mechanisms working in his head, coming to conclusions he doesn’t know what to do with. “Good thing we’re not in Gusu.”
Lan Xichen shoots him a look he doesn’t know how to interpret. Surprised, yes, but also hopeful somehow, anticipating Jiang Wanyin’s next move.
“Wanyin...” he says and the sound of his name from Lan Xichen lips that still probably taste of river waters, sends shivers down Jiang Cheng’s spine.
“What if?” beats in his head over and over. What if for once he could trust his heart and just for a moment humor the thought that Xichen – Lan Xichen had kissed him, wanted to kiss him? That he was not the only one thinking at night, fantasizing about the things he could have had if only fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to make him fall in love with one person that was always unattainable, always out of reach. What if there are not too many scars between the two of them and they could ...
“Oh, boy, you’re thinking too loud! Just kiss him,” the River interrupts his musings.
And the moment he tries to follow her advice Xichen leans in and their lips meet halfway.
When they return to Lotus Pier the sun is almost gone from the sky, and a bleak silhouette of the moon can be seen high up above. The disciples are either out, taking advantage of the Lotus Pier’s non-existent curfew, or on patrol, or ready to go to sleep, which means that with Jiang Wanyin’s knowledge of less popular routes, he can accompany Lan Xichen to his guest quarters without meeting a single soul. It’s for the best. It wouldn’t do for his subordinates to see their sect leader with lips kiss-swollen anyway.
They part on the threshold of Lan Xichen’s room, where Jiang Wanyin steals one last kiss from him before leaving. As Xichen watches Sect Leader Jiang walk away he can’t help but call out:
“Wanyin...” and, when the man turns to look at him, says the words that are most important to him right now, “I’m in love with you.”
A smile illuminates Sect Leader Jiang’s sharp face features:
“You can call me by my first name, you know?”
“Jiang Cheng,” he tries out, liking the way the name slides off his tongue and into the world.
“Lan Xichen?” Jiang Wanyin replies, but now Xichen wants to hear his name spoken by those lips in return.
“Can you call me by my first name too?”
“Lan Huan,” he says, like it is a greatest treasure, an old forgotten spell, the best melody he had ever heard.
The melody chimes in the calm evening air, mixing with the chirping of cicadas, light wind playing with leaves and is echoed by the quiet, quiet hum of the river fondly smiling to herself.