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Lan Wangji sets Bichen down on the table and kneels. He glances at his brother who’s standing next to their uncle’s table at the head of the Lanshi. Lan Xichen’s eyes do not waver from their expectant stare at the door.
Moments later, the doors reopen. Lan Wangji rises to his feet as a swarm of purple enters the Lanshi. The Yunmeng Jiang Sect? That means…
Wei Wuxian, dressed in his customary black and red, strides forward through the midst.
Wei Ying.
He looks healthy. Vibrant. Lan Wangji opens his mouth. It snaps shut hard enough to send pain shooting through his teeth when Lan Xichen steps forward and embraces Wei Wuxian in a hug.
The ground gives out beneath Lan Wangji’s feet.
“Hanguang-jun,” Jiang Wanyin says with a bow as he moves behind the table to Lan Wangji’s right.
Lan Wangji somehow manages to move his feet. He faces the Yunmeng Sect heir and bows. “Sandu Shengshou.” His gaze immediately returns to Wei Wuxian and… and… his brother. They’re smiling at each other. Wei Wuxian looks happy.
He catches Lan Wangji staring and waves. Lan Wangji does not wave back.
Lan Qiren rises to his feet. He starts speaking, but all Lan Wangji hears is the pounding beat of his heart filling his ears. His body completes his bows to the Yunmeng Sect. His eyes see the Yunmeng Sect return the bows. His legs return him to the kneeling position at the table.
Time passes in a daze. His brother had called this meeting to introduce him and their uncle to the person he wished to marry, the person he wished to spend the rest of his life. Lan Wangji had noticed that Lan Xichen had seemed happier lately, and so he’d been looking forward to meeting the person who’d stolen his brother’s heart.
Wei Ying. Lan Wangji had met him just before the Sunshot Campaign. They’d fought side by side to defeat the Wens. At first, Lan Wangji had hated the other man. He was loud, mischievous, irritating. Passionate, intelligent, strong. But sometimes, in the right light, when Wei Wuxian smiled, he reminded Lan Wangji fiercely of his mother. He’d worked so hard to forget those memories and yet Wei Wuxian easily conjured them to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to be closer, he wanted to be further, he wanted to take. The depth of his feelings had sent him fleeing as soon as they’d won the war. And now—
“Lan Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks, interrupting his thoughts.
He and Wei Wuxian are standing in front of him. Wei Wuxian has a nervous smile on his face, while Lan Xichen gazes at him, his eyes flitting from him to Wei Wuxian at his side. His brother normally has a gentle smile on his face, but the smile this time sinks deep into his cheeks, lights up his eyes in a way Lan Wangji has never seen before.
Oh. Lan Wangji opens his mouth and—
The words catch in his throat. His brother’s expression falters.
“Lan Wangji—”
“Xiong,” he interrupts, locking his hands together and bowing deeply to hide his eyes as a prickle of heat stings at them. “I am happy for you.” He swallows roughly and takes a deep breath. The threat of tears recedes.
It’s not a complete lie, it’s not the complete truth.
Lan Wangji is happy that his brother has found someone, that his brother is happy. Lan Wangji is not happy that the person, the reason for this, is Wei Wuxian. But he buries the half-truth deep into his heart, never to see the light of day, because his brother deserves this happiness.
When he looks up, he smiles for Lan Xichen, lets it curve the corners of his lips, lets it crinkle his eyes, and ignores the agony of his heart splintering into pieces.
Lan Wangji heads for the cold springs after completing the evening patrol. His muscles ache. His head aches.
He places one foot into the water. The chill of it seeps up his leg, instantly numbing the limb. Lan Wangji takes slow, measured steps forward until he’s submerged up to his navel. His entire body is numb, the ache in his muscles and head soothed.
The numbness does not reach his heart, which beats an unbearable melody in his ears.
But at least, at last, he is alone.
Tension has coiled his muscles tight for the entire day, and now he can just… relax.
He wonders if this would be the correct time for tears. Can he even cry? He didn’t cry for his mother, for his father, for any of the punishments he endured.
Tears wouldn’t help or change anything.
Lan Wangji closes his eyes and spends the next hour drifting through his memories. When sleep starts to weigh down his eyelids, he forces them open instead and exits the cold springs. As he is re-dressing, he senses a presence. He grabs Bichen and directs her towards the intruder.
A yelp breaks the night’s silence, and a moment later, Wei Wuxian stumbles onto the stone steps leading down to the cold springs, Bichen hovering at this neck.
Words cram into Lan Wangji’s throat. He swallows them and recalls Bichen to her scabbard. Wei Wuxian opens his mouth, then he closes it. Lan Wangji finishes dressing.
“It is forbidden to be outside after curfew,” he finally says, instead of declaring his love.
“But you’re out!” Wei Wuxian objects.
Lan Wangji spends a second memorizing the way the moonlight traces Wei Wuxian’s face before turning to leave, instead of wrapping Wei Wuxian in his arms.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize for how rude I was to you during the Sunshot Campaign,” Wei Wuxian blurts to his back. He stops but doesn’t turn around. “Just… please, pretend you like me? For Lan Huan’s sake, at least?”
Pretend to like Wei Wuxian. If only he could only like Wei Wuxian.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji says, instead of spinning around and devouring him.
This time, when he walks away, Wei Wuxian does not call after him.
The melodious sound of the guqin echoes throughout the library. Lan Wangji plucks another string, moves his fingers, and plucks another, slowly piecing together a song filled with his memories and emotions. The notes ache with tenderness, contrary to the agony threading through his heart as he pictures Wei Wuxian’s smile, his attempts to talk himself out of trouble, the flash in his eyes as he wields Suibian or unleashes an arrow, the weight of his head pillowed on Lan Wangji’s thigh, the cadence of his voice as he’d called out “Lan Zhan!”.
Lan Wangji recalls the first time he met Wei Wuxian, when the Wens had dragged him to the Nightless City for “training” after burning Cloud Recesses to the ground. The way Wei Wuxian had taunted and outmaneuvered the Wens, had stepped in to save a young lady from the Lanling Jin Sect, and the first touch of jealousy. The touch of fear when someone from his own clan accidentally shot Wei Wuxian. The continuous fear when they faced off against Xuanwu and managed to defeat it. The first stirrings of a nameless melody.
...recalls the terrified fear haunting Wei Wuxian’s eyes as they sped towards Lotus Pier, arriving in time to save the Jiang family, although Madame Yu still lost her golden core to Wen Zhuliu before Lan Wangji managed to sever the Core Melting Hand’s left arm.
…recalls the way his fear for the Gusu Lan Sect had receded in Wei Wuxian’s presence. They worked together in the Sunshot Campaign and no one could defeat them. Until one evening, the campaign’s victory cinched, a group of Wens led by the distasteful Wen Chao managed to sneak past their defenses and subdue them.
Lan Wangji quickly shies away from those unpleasant memories. But there’s only one pleasant one left.
The marriage of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, three years after the Sunshot Campaign. They’d held a night hunting competition on Phoenix Mountain beforehand. Jin Zixun and Wei Wuxian, who hadn’t even glanced in Lan Wangji’s direction, had clashed, leading to Wei Wuxian to participate in the Night Hunt blindfolded.
When Lan Wangji had finally worked up the courage to approach Wei Wuxian himself, he found the other man resting beneath a tree. Hearing Wei Wuxian call out uncertainly, not recognizing Lan Wangji, and then at his mention of girls, Lan Wangji was moving before he realized it or could regain control from the jealousy igniting his blood. He’d pressed his lips against Wei Wuxian’s, allowed himself a moment where it was only the two of them in the world, and his senses came flooding back. The frost of self-control returned, and he fled, once again, from Wei Wuxian.
The melody had become thunderous after his first kiss, haunting his days and nights, relentlessly demanding to be played. Sometimes he wishes he’d never met Wei Wuxian, that he couldn’t recall Wei Wuxian’s every word, every action, every expression, the way the man had burrowed past Lan Wangji’s defenses and into his heart.
The notes resonate and then fade, as Lan Wangji stops composing and brushes his fingers over the peony bookmark and the perfume sachet lying on the table next to his guqin. His only material reminders of these memories. He imagines crushing them, tearing them to pieces, but his fingers remain gentle.
“Why did you stop?” Wei Wuxian’s voice suddenly asks from behind him.
Lan Wangji freezes. Had he been so lost in thought he hadn’t sensed Wei Wuxian’s approach? He rises to his feet and turns around. Wei Wuxian is lying across the windowsill and he takes a bite of an apple. A bit of juice drips down his chin. His tongue swipes down to catch it.
“It was beautiful, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian continues through his chews. “A bit haunting. Kinda like a love song? Are you in love?”
Of all the lines of questioning Wei Wuxian could have followed, he chooses the one that strikes the fiercest blow. Lan Wangji breathes through the pain.
“It’s a song for calming the mind,” Lan Wangji replies, even though he should turn around and leave. Wei Wuxian’s presence is intoxicating.
“Does it have a name?” Wei Wuxian asks, dropping his feet into the library.
Another direct hit from the sword that is Wei Wuxian’s tongue. “Yes.” A name that will never be spoken, never written, never claimed by anything other than the space between his heartbeats.
Lan Wangji walks steadily down the mountain and knocks on Wen Qing’s door. The doctor pulls it open and frowns when she sees him.
“Hanguang-jun,” she says with a bow.
“Lady Wen,” he replies and returns the bow. His lips tighten as the motion rustles his robe against his chest.
He feels the calculating weight of her gaze on his body as he straightens, though he’s certain his face doesn’t give anything away. She steps aside and gestures for him to sit in a chair near the Eastern corner of the room. Wen Qing watches dispassionately, as he pulls on the seam of his robes and reveals his injury.
Her expression shifts minutely in displeasure. “A-Ning, go fetch me some cold and bitter herbs.”
Her brother, peeking around the wall, squeaks as Wen Qing draws attention to him. He speeds out of the house.
“You are doing well?” Lan Wangji asks after they spend a moment in silence.
Wen Qing nods. “Yes, thanks to you, Hanguang-jun.”
He turns away from her gratefulness. Standing up for the remaining Wens had simply been the right thing to do. It had been something Wei Wuxian would have done, had he been there.
His skin prickles under her eyes. Under her assessment.
“You did this to yourself,” Wen Qing states suddenly. She is a formidable doctor, indeed.
Lan Wangji nods, meeting her eyes; he hadn’t been trying to hide it, though he hadn’t offered up that information himself. A fresh wave of pain radiates across his chest as a breeze wafts across the charred skin. His expression doesn’t shift.
She stares at him with a mix of disbelief and concern.
The door cracks open. Wen Qionglin’s head peeks through. “Si-Sister, I-I’ve brought the h-herbs.” He lets out a small squeak as Lan Wangji’s gaze passes over him.
Wen Qing heaves an aggrieved sigh, mutters something incomprehensible under her breath, and turns away. She grabs the handful of herbs from her brother and moves over to a table in the opposite corner of the room, still muttering. Lan Wangji looks down at the stylized sun branded over his heart. He wants to feel regret—he does regret creating more work for Wen Qing—but the pain provides a welcome distraction from his endless litany of thoughts of Wei Wuxian.
It is ironic then, that Lan Wangji branded himself to feel closer to the man. The memory of the Wen cultivators holding down Wei Wuxian and branding his chest, while others held Lan Wangji down, too, and prevented him from interfering, his most hateful memory, is tempered by the memory of that night being the first and only time Wei Wuxian called out his name. Lan Zhan.
“Apply this paste as needed until it scars over,” Wen Qing snaps, dragging him from his thoughts. She thrusts a glass vial of a green poultice into his hand. Her eyes drift to the symbol of the Wen Sect on his chest and an indiscernible expression crosses her face briefly. “Now get out.”
Some nights later, as Lan Wangji patrols, he sees a figure dart across the courtyard. He leaps after the rule breaker.
“Running is forbid—” His throat clenches around the words as he comes face to face with Wei Wuxian embracing his brother. Lan Xichen breaks away, crimson red staining his cheeks. Wei Wuxian ducks behind Lan Xichen. Lan Wangji’s chest throbs with each beat of his heart, pain spiraling outwards and wrapping around his lungs, stealing his breath.
“Didi,” Lan Xichen starts, clearly uncomfortable.
“Brother, it is past curfew. Please return to your Hanshi,” Lan Wangji says. His voice comes out steadily, not even a hint of the chasm in his heart. He can’t allow his brother to sense that anything’s amiss.
“Though I suppose it is fortunate we met, so that I can tell you in person,” the words spill out of his mouth at the couple’s retreating backs. “I will be leaving the Cloud Recesses for a bit. There are some villages that require assistance.” He forces his lips shut to stop the deluge of words, afraid he’s revealed himself.
“Of course, Wangji,” Lan Xichen replies warmly, not a trace of doubt. “Please be careful. You’ll return in time for the wedding?”
The wedding.
“Of course, Brother,” Lan Wangji echoes. Wei Wuxian dips his head in a nod before he and Lan Xichen turn again and leave.
He hasn’t slept properly in days. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of Wei Wuxian. How would the other man move beneath him? Atop him? How would he sound? He wakes up sweating from lust, wracked with guilt.
Since he isn’t sleeping, he moves onto the next Night Hunt, onto the next town that’s crying for help. The places that need him. Lan Wangji knows this isn’t sustainable, and yet his feet keep carrying him forward. His pristine robes become tattered and caked with dirt. And blood, when the lack of sleep slows his reflexes, and he swings Bichen too slowly to block a sweep of a fierce corpse’s claws.
Is he weakened by blood loss or sleep deprivation? He doesn’t know anymore.
Somehow, he makes his way to the Wen village at the base of the Gusu Lan mountains. Even in the daytime, the edges of his vision are covered with the night. He comes to a stop in front of Wen Qing’s house. Something crashes into his leg. Lan Wangji looks down. A small child looks up. Three small children look up from three of his legs?
“Hello,” he says and then passes out.
Lan Wangji wakes up to a small child’s face right in front of his.
“Awake!” the child exclaims. Hands wrap around the child and lift him into the air. Lan Wangji follows the hands to the face. Wen Qing. Her almost soft expression instantly transforms into cold rage when her eyes land on Lan Wangji.
“Yes. Hanguang-jun is awake.” The doctor sets the child down and pushes him towards the door. “Go play with Wen-popo.”
“Bye, bye!” the child calls out and leaves.
Silence frosts the room.
“When was the last time you slept?” she finally asks, evenly.
Lan Wangji tries to remember. He doesn’t even recall how he came to be here.
Wen Qing sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll make some sleeping pills.”
“No,” he says, sitting up. His muscles ache in protest, but the pain is manageable. “I don’t… I don’t want to dream.”
Her eyes narrow slightly before her expression relaxes. “You won’t dream.”
His muscles lose a fraction of their tension at her words.
“Look, you helped save me and my family. I will always be grateful to you,” Wen Qing continues and crosses her arms. “But you cannot sustain this… journey you’re on.”
“I know,” he says solemnly, looking down at his hands. It is untenable. He doesn’t know how else to live though. She lets out a heavy sigh, as if she’d read his mind, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“Lan Wangji!” Wei Wuxian’s surprised voice cuts clearly through the air on the path leading up to the Cloud Recesses. He looks up in time to see Wei Wuxian run down the remaining steps between them and stop a step above. “You’re just in time for the wedding! Lan Huan will be happy. He was getting worried about…” he doesn’t continue, as his eyes run over Lan Wangji’s tattered, dirty, bloodied robes.
But Lan Wangji doesn’t notice anyway, as blood rushes to his ears, jealousy igniting his blood. Wedding. Lan Huan. While Lan Wangji is only Lan Wangji.
His hands reach out and clutch Wei Wuxian’s robes, his body moving before his mind catches up, and he slams their lips together. Their second kiss is a bolt of lightning crackling across Lan Wangji’s soul, shattering him in a different way from Phoenix Mountain. For a moment, he imagines succumbing to the dark desires he’s kept locked in his heart, imagines a future where he just takes. Lan Wangji remembers his mother, trapped in a cage yet she still smiled and teased him… remembers the way her life force diminished with each visit.
He pulls away, knowing he’s ruined everything. His mouth opens, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but,
“I love you,” the confession tears like shards of glass through his throat instead.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes are blown wide open. At Lan Wangji’s words, he throws himself away. “No! You can’t! I love Lan Huan! Your brother! You love… since when?”
“Since always,” Lan Wangji admits. He can’t hold it back anymore, his heart overflowing.
Wei Wuxian lets out a noise like a wounded animal and turns away. “This isn’t—I thought you hated me. You ran away as soon as the campaign ended! You couldn’t even look me in the eyes! Lan Wangji, I’m marrying your brother!”
Lan Xichen. The image of his brother’s happy face flashes across Lan Wangji’s mind.
“I know,” he says. “That’s why I’m never returning. My brother deserves to be happy, and you give that to him. I have never seen him as happy as he is with you. I will never get between you and him.” He loves the both of them far more than he loves himself. He’s forever kneeling in the snow waiting for the Jingshi to open.
Wei Wuxian whirls back around, tears spilling from his eyes. Lan Wangji grits his teeth, digs his fingernails into his palms to prevent himself from reaching out.
He closes his eyes and lets out a deep exhale, letting ice wrap around his heart. His emotions sink back into the depths, caged behind the iron bars of his will. Lan Wangji will never be like his father. Wei Wuxian’s hands sink into the sleeves his robes.
“Lan Huan won’t—”
Lan Wangji opens his eyes and Wei Wuxian’s voice cuts off, his lips sealed. His gray eyes flash with anger, but Lan Wangji reaches up and pries the other man’s hands out of his robes.
“Be happy,” Lan Wangji says softly. “That’s all I want for the both of you.”
He flees for the third, and final, time.
Someone is approaching. Lan Wangji draws Bichen and aims her at—
“Xiong,” he says, breath catching in his throat. His grip on Bichen trembles as he immediately re-sheathes her; he hadn’t expected—this isn’t—Lan Wangji quickly looks away before he can meet his brother’s eyes. He doesn’t want to see the anger or the disappointment that’s sure to be there.
His actions from the other month are unforgivable.
“Lan Zhan, didi…” Lan Xichen begins, and Lan Wangji braces himself as his heart clenches at the use of his birth name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The tone throws him off. Gentle, not a hint of blame or rage or disappointment. Like Lan Wangji hadn’t betrayed him.
“He makes you smile,” Lan Wangji replies warily, still looking at the ground.
Lan Xichen lets out a weird noise; Lan Wangji’s head snaps up to see his brother’s face crumple. In grief. For Lan Wangji?
“Xiong, no!” Lan Wangji says. Panic loosens his reticent tongue. “That’s good. I am happy for you! He makes you happy.” His brother deserves everything he wants and more. Of that, Lan Wangji never had a doubt.
“Yes, he makes me happy,” Lan Xichen admits, voice cracking. “But, Lan Zhan, I could never be happy while you’re suffering. While you’re suffering because of me.”
“It is not suffering,” Lan Wangji says fiercely. “To step aside for you. Xiong, you have raised me, you taught me, you have stood by my side to protect and support me, even when my actions have caused you trouble. You never reprimanded me or told me to stop, only warned me to be careful. You—”
He flinches as Lan Xichen suddenly raises his arms and places his hands on Lan Wangji’s shoulders, gripping him firmly and locking their eyes together. “Lan Zhan. The depths of your love have always run deeper than mine.” His eyes glaze over briefly, no doubt in remembrance, of their mother, of the countless weeks Lan Wangji tried to see her after her passing. “I will recover,” he continues, eyes clearing. “I will find someone else, someone new, who will make me even happier, and I will have my didi at my wedding, congratulating me with a smile from his heart.”
Lan Wangji’s throat has closed up; he can’t push out the words screaming in his lungs. Words of hope, despair, denial. His eyes sting with an unfamiliar burn.
Lan Xichen’s eyes shimmer with tears. “I can let him go. You, my brave, smart, stubborn, didi, will hold onto him forever.”
Something wet slides down Lan Wangji’s cheek. The sky is clear still, the evening sun casting large shadows. His brother’s face becomes blurry. Oh. He’s crying. These are tears.
And tears fall from both brother’s eyes, long past sunset, and long after they separate.
Even rationing the sleep pills, Lan Wangji can only hold out for seven months, before he’s forced to return to the Cloud Recesses. But he shouldn’t run into Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian, no doubt, would have long since returned to Lotus Pier, and Lan Xichen doesn’t visit the Wens. He’ll just…
A small child tackles his leg. Lan Wangji looks down and recognizes Wen Yuan.
“A-Yuan, you little—” a voice calls out in exasperation and Lan Wangji’s spine locks straight.
Wei Wuxian dashes around a corner and skids to a halt. His face alternates between a myriad of emotions too quick for Lan Wangji to parse, while his own heart pounds loudly in his ears. Wei Ying. Despite his brother’s blessing, Lan Wangji intended to never see Wei Wuxian again, and now, here he is, right in front of him.
Wen Qing calls out, “If you lost my cousin, Wei Wuxian, I will—” Her voice cuts off, too, as she rounds the corner and sees Lan Wangji. She glances between him and Wei Wuxian, before a look, somewhere between irritated and resigned, crosses her face. Wen Qionglin dashes behind his sister, peering warily at Lan Wangji. The doctor hooks her arm around Wei Wuxian’s and says to Lan Wangji,
“Please grab A-Yuan and follow us, Hanguang-jun.” She spins with Wei Wuxian and starts heading towards her house. Wen Qionglin bows quickly and hurries after his sister.
Lan Wangji considers making a strategic retreat, but his leg is heavier than usual. He can’t just leave the child. Maybe he’ll be able to just… set the kid down… and then run away.
“Can you walk?” he asks Wen Yuan. Wen Yuan nods and then releases Lan Wangji’s leg to hold out his arms. The child stares at him with large, expectant eyes. Lan Wangji picks up Wen Yuan obediently, the child instantly wrapping his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, and heads after the Wen siblings and Wei Wuxian.
He reaches the doctor’s house all too quickly. Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin are waiting outside, the sister with her arms crossed and the brother shuffling in place.
“Where is—?” Lan Wangji starts to ask but the question dies on his lips, as Wen Qionglin takes Wen Yuan out of his arms, and Wen Qing takes his arm and pushes him through the door of her home. He could resist, but he doesn’t want to get on the doctor’s bad side.
The door slams shut behind him, but all is attention is focused on Wei Wuxian, who is sitting motionless in a chair, glaring furiously and wordlessly at him.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji breathes. Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak. Does that mean he should continue? “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I just couldn’t… I love you, Wei Ying. I loved you in the Xuanwu cave, at Lotus Pier, during the Sunshot campaign, and every day since. I love you now, I’ll love you for the rest of this life and all my lives hereafter.”
Still, Wei Wuxian doesn’t speak. That is uncharacteristic of him. Lan Wangji’s eyes catch a glint of metal. Ah. Wen Qing had paralyzed him with one of her needles. He’s relieved she didn’t go that far with him.
Lan Wangji removes the needle carefully. Wei Wuxian leaps to his feet immediately and grabs the front of Lan Wangji’s robes, anger in his eyes and bared teeth.
“You!” Wei Wuxian cries. He shoves Lan Wangji away and reaches for his sword. “I loved Lan Huan! You ignored me during the Sunshot Campaign. You called me annoying. How can you save you loved-love me? You never gave me any signs! How was I supposed to know that you—that I—that…”
“I’m sorry, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji apologizes earnestly.
“Don’t say my name like that!” Wei Wuxian demands. His hand falls away from Suibian helplessly. His eyes widen wildly.
“Like what?” Lan Wangji says, the corners of his eyes crinkling in confusion. He doesn’t know how else to say Wei Ying’s name.
“Like you love me! Like I’m something precious! You drove Lan Xichen away, you kiss—You stole my second kiss!”
“Ye—” Second? Lan Wangji’s thoughts are instantly derailed. That means… Then… “Phoenix Mountain was your first kiss?” he blurts out, too shocked to realize he’s revealing himself. “But you’d said you’d kissed plenty of girls.”
Wei Wuxian blushes and covers his face with his hands. “Of course, I said that! How could I admit otherwise??” He crosses his arms in an adorable pout. A second later, his eyes widen. “Wait—how did you know—that was you? On Phoenix Mountain? You stole my first kiss!”
Lan Wangji probably should not feel as proud as he does when Wei Wuxian exclaims that. “Mn,” he says instead.
“No, no, no, I see it now. You’re proud,” Wei Wuxian gripes. He starts to pace, muttering under his breath. Lan Wangji watches him move across the room. It should probably not be as endearing as he finds it. Finally, Wei Wuxian comes to a halt, several steps away, and raises his chin, meeting Lan Wangji’s eyes with an even fiercer blush than before.
“You have to take responsibility then,” Wei Wuxian declares.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees, taking a step forward.
Wei Wuxian retreats a step, continuing, “I want a donkey and a kid. We’ll go night hunting together, and you’ll tell me how smart I am when I devise revolutionary cultivating techniques.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees with another step forward. Wei Ying is smart.
Wei Wuxian’s back thumps against the wall. “You have to tell me you love me every day. I have a terrible memory.”
“Mn.” Every day. They’re only separated by one last step.
“And tell me, please, the name of that song,” Wei Wuxian begs.
Lan Wangji closes that last gap and gently cups Wei Wuxian’s face with his hands. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen, like he’s just realizing how close they are. But there’s no room to escape anymore.
“Wangxian,” Lan Wangji whispers, a breath away from Wei Wuxian.
A whimper breaks from those lips. “Lan Zhan—”
Lan Wangji leans forward and seals their lips together for their third kiss.
The first kiss of the rest of their lives together.