Chapter Text
It's summer. Lan Xichen is at Lotus Pier for a discussion amongst all the clan leaders, but he's snuck out to get some time to himself. It feels rebellious, but the talks are actually done for the day so it's, as usual, a mild bending of rules. Actually, if he's being honest with himself, it's not even a bending of rules - the only reason it feels sneaky is because he'd crept out from under Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue's noses. To further assert his freedom to himself he'd even changed into lighter summer robes, ones he probably hasn't worn since he was a teenager. They're in good condition, but they're a little too short in the sleeves, and they gap a little more than they probably should, exposing a hint of his collar bones. He can't be bothered though, because Yunmeng is humid and hot and the thought of being in his regular robes is enough to make him feel like passing out. Whatever the case, no one looks at him strangely as he weaves through the small markets, and he eventually settles himself in a small field near the lake, under the shade of a large tree that nearly dips its branches into the water.
He drops himself into the grass after tying his hair up off his neck - he'd long ago shed his hair ornament, leaving him free to roll his head along the ground as he stretches out his body. The smell of the grass is fragrant and earthy, and though unfamiliar it makes Lan Xichen feel like he's home. Not Cloud Recesses of course, but home in an abstract way. Like he's right where he's supposed to be. He closes his eyes, running his fingers across the soft blades beneath him, and lets out a slow, steady breath that he focuses on as it moves from his lungs, up through his throat, out through his lips. Thoughts float idly through his mind, mostly centered around him just sleeping out here in the grass. No one would be really bothered as long as he showed up in the morning when talks continued. Right? The thought brings a soft smile to his lips. Fingers fanned out, he slowly opens his eyes and stares up into the twisting branches above him. There are names and pictures scratched into the bark all over, mostly from children, but a few names with hearts suggest slightly older hooligans have made their mark. If he weren't a sect leader, he thinks he'd like to spend more time in Yunmeng, lying in the grass, scratching his name into a tree, listening to the whirr of insects and the soft sounds of oars dipping into the lake. And the squeals of laughter and splashing.
Slowly he pushes himself up to sitting, eyes naturally drawn to the lake. A group of children is playing on a small boat nearby, splashing each other and pushing each other into the water. Even as the sun drops it remains warm out, so they can probably play like this for a while yet, if they're not called home. As he's thought many times before, he wishes his brother were here with him, but Lotus Pier remains a painful place for him, so Lan Xichen doesn't even ask anymore when he has business here. This thought colors the scene before him melancholy. How different things were when they were that age. Even then, though, Lan Wangji likely wouldn't have played like this in the water.
Someone else seems loath to participate like Lan Wangji would be. Lan Xichen can see the ponytail of a child with his back to him, small elbows propped on a low boat as he treads water. The other children are close, but he isn't playing with them, and Lan Xichen is a little surprised until he realizes who it is - a figure appears from behind a small sunshade, and it's Jiang Cheng, making the child in the water Jin Ling. From what he's heard from Jin Guangyao, his nephew isn't good at making friends. Right now, though, Jin Ling doesn't seem to be upset about this, because the moment Jiang Cheng appears he splashes water up at his uncle. Jiang Cheng reaches down to pick him up, pulling him out of the water as the young boy twists, half laughing, before he throws him a short distance into the lake again. He's almost relaxed about it. Jin Ling surfaces quickly, smiling broadly. It's so normal. So domestic. Jin Ling swims over to the boat again and drags himself aboard, lying his body out in the dying sun to dry, and Lan Xichen finally takes stock of the other sect leader.
Jiang Cheng has his robes pulled off his upper body, hanging at his waist. A large, deep scar runs across his chest, but he doesn't seem to care that it's exposed. Or, at the very least, he seems defiant about it. His skin is bronzed, more so than usual. The summer sun is doing its job well. There's a soft halo around him from that sun as it sets, accentuating the sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline as he turns to look to his young nephew. The way he moves on and around the water is natural, to the point where even leaning down to cup water into his hand and splash it onto the boat at Jin Ling seems normal, like he's always playful. Much to Lan Xichen's embarrassment, he feels like he can't breathe all of a sudden. He tells himself it's the humidity, even though he knows it's not. He's thinking about the deep-rooted affection he has for Jiang Cheng, someone he realizes is more complicated than most people, including himself, had ever given him credit for. He's thinking about a cold night, dim light beneath a cloak, lips pressed to his. Generally when he has these feelings for someone they're like a warm blanket, comforting, but for some reason when they're for Jiang Cheng they feel stifling and uncomfortable. They make him feel lost and powerless.
"It's Zewu-Jun! Why are his sleeves so short?" Jin Ling's voice rings out.
A smile stretches the corners of Lan Xichen's lips as he sheds his difficult thoughts to make way for embarrassment, and Jiang Cheng turns to look at him, still bathed in light. He's never felt unattractive or even really compared his appearance to another's, but right now he feels a little ridiculous gazing at this radiant version of Jiang Cheng while he sits in the grass, likely with bits of plant matter in his hair and too short sleeves so bluntly pointed out by Jin Ling.
"Don't say things like that," he can hear Jiang Cheng quietly scold as he scowls, but there's amusement in his tone as well. Jin Ling, now sitting up, doesn't seem to pick up on the amusement because he tightly crosses his arms.
"I don't usually wear summer robes in Cloud Recesses, so I could only find these old ones," Lan Xichen calls out in explanation. Jin Ling looks slightly surprised that the other sect leader is speaking to him, much less actually giving him an answer to his non-question. He looks up to his uncle for a moment before he turns back to Lan Xichen.
"We can give you some better looking ones. Those look silly."
Jiang Cheng swats the back of his head, clearly without much force.
"They do."
"A-Ling."
Jin Ling falls back onto the boat, sullen. Lan Xichen is trying not to laugh. Under normal circumstances he's not so prone to laughter, but he realizes he's often trying to stop himself around Jiang Cheng.
"Jin Ling, could you help me find some better robes, actually? It's probably not good for a sect leader to look silly."
Sitting bolt upright, Jin Ling gives Jiang Cheng a haughty look that's charming for a child of his age before he dives off the side of the boat to swim to shore. Jiang Cheng, scoffing, crosses his arms, his posture reminiscent of his nephew just a few minutes earlier. It's hard to see his expression as the sun has dipped lower, casting him in shadow, but Lan Xichen has a hard time imagining it being any different from mirroring Jin Ling as well.
"Don't encourage him. He's bad enough already."
Lan Xichen smiles, still feeling a little breathless. The distraction of their conversation helps him not sink into simply admiring the scene before him again, at least.
"I promise we'll have a talk about being polite," he offers, and he thinks he can see Jiang Cheng roll his eyes and, maybe, smile slightly.
Jin Ling pulls himself ashore, rings out his hair, and then goes to take a hold of Lan Xichen's wrist without any preamble once he's made his way over to him and Lan Xichen has climbed to his feet. He glances back to Jiang Cheng, chin lifted in the air.
"We'll see you later, Uncle."