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They had seen each other dozens of times in the intervening years, between that afternoon on the boulder and now. They held each other when they had nothing else to hold onto. In grief and desire. In relief.
But today is the first day they stand together, hands clasped, and know that for now, their world is whole again. They’re back at Cloud Recesses to celebrate Lan Qiren’s retirement and Lan Xichen’s official transfer of sect leadership to Lan Wangji. Tomorrow, Xichen will return to the Unclean Realm to live with his husband, Huaisang will go to Lotus Pier for an extended stay as he prepares to take on the role of Chief Cultivator, and Jiang Cheng will continue to train his disciples. Their world is whole, but they all know how quickly such fragile things like peace can be broken.
“Hey!” Jiang Cheng’s undignified squawk breaks the peace of the sun-dappled clearing. He rubs his side, glaring at Huaisang. Huaisang casually tucks his fan back in his belt.
“You were thinking so loudly, A-Cheng.” He offers Jiang Cheng a lazy grin. “I thought we agreed, no thinking today.”
Jiang Cheng tries to glare at Huaisang, but they both know it’s useless, so he kisses Huaisang instead.
Huaisang lets Jiang Cheng kiss him, lets his hands wander a bit before breaking off. “You’re still thinking.”
Jiang Cheng sighs. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind Huaisang’s ear. “Remembering,” he says.
“Ah.” Huaisang leans into Jiang Cheng’s embrace and rests his head against Jiang Cheng’s chest. They stand in the sunshine, holding each other, breathing, remembering.
“May I ask you something?” Jiang Cheng says, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Of course,” Huaisang replies. He takes one of Jiang Cheng’s hands and kisses the back. “Anything.”
“Why do you want to be Chief Cultivator?”
“Oh.” Huaisang kisses Jiang Cheng’s hand again. “Let’s sit down.” He leads them to the edge of the boulder, and they sit down, dangling their legs off the sides just like they did as students, a lifetime ago. Huaisang takes Jiang Cheng’s hand and laces their fingers together. This, at least, hasn’t changed. They anchor one another to this world.
“I don’t,” Huaisang says once they’ve gotten comfortable, “I don’t want it. But who else can it be for now? It should be Wen Qing, probably. She’s terrifying and brave. But after everything she lost, I can’t ask her to give up her freedom. Your brother—“
“Would be a disaster,” Jiang Cheng says, with a quiet huff of laughter.
“He’d be brilliant,” Huaisang retorts, “but he’d upend everything, and we don’t need that. Maybe if he’d been Chief Cultivator before, before the Wens, but we were all too young. You and Da-ge have sects to lead. Lan Wangji would have been amazing, but he’s taken over his own sect, and I won’t begrudge him and Da-ge their happiness.”
“Mmm.” Jiang Cheng kisses Huaisang’s shoulder. “What about your happiness?”
“I’m happy, A-Cheng. Are you happy?”
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng rests one hand at the nape of Huaisang’s neck and draws him in for a kiss. One kiss turns into two, then three, then—-
“Sect Leader Jiang!”
“Seriously?” Huaisang mutters as Jiang Cheng covers a laugh.
“At least it’s not your bro—“ Jiang Cheng begins, but he falls silent as Mingjue looms up the path behind the poor Lan disciple sent to fetch them. “Seriously?”
“Is something wrong with your quarters, Huaisang?” Mingjue’s tone is gruff, but he smiles, and his dimples make a brief appearance. He dismisses the young Lan, who takes off down the mountain path at a brisk pace.
“Da-ge, to what do we owe this pleasure?”
“A-Huan wanted me to remind you that you and Wangji have to run through tonight’s ceremony at least once.”
Huaisang sighs. “Aiya, I know the ritual backward and forward!” He casts a pleading look toward Jiang Cheng, who holds up both his hands in defeat.
“You said you wanted this.” He stands and offers Huaisang a hand up. Huaisang groans and struggles to his feet.
“Fine.” He kisses Jiang Cheng on the cheek. “Come back with me, then.”
“Actually,” Mingjue interjects, “I’d like to have a quick word with Wanyin.”
Jiang Cheng and Huaisang exchange worried looks.
“Wait for me?”
Huaisang nods. He knows there’s nothing wrong, but he can’t help the shiver of dread that works through him as he turns to watch Jiang Cheng and his brother. They look out over the river, their backs to Huaisang, but there’s no tension in their posture. Huaisang takes his fan from his belt and idly runs through one of the rudimentary fan forms, finding comfort in the movement. He runs through it twice more before Jiang Cheng and Mingjue finish their conversation. Jiang Cheng steps back to bow to Mingjue, but he stops him and pulls him into a fierce hug, and the tiny knot of tension Huaisang’s carried since their previous encounter here finally, finally unravels.
Whatever their future brings, Huaisang is certain that all roads will bring him home.