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    Summary

    For years, Wei Wuxian had been visiting Hanguang-jun at Cloud Recesses any time that his travels took him nearby. Or even when he wasn’t nearby. For reasons known only to themselves, the pair of them had been maintaining an unconvincing veneer of friendship around others and, more perplexingly, between themselves.

    Until the night hunts. Then, away from Lan Qiren and the cultivation world at large, they indulged. Just a little, nothing scandalous, and always with a layer (however sheer) of plausible deniability. Lan Jingyi was sick of their shit.

    As he waited, voices began to reach him, drifting on the evening breeze. Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian. They weren’t close yet, and Lan Jingyi could only pick out snatches, just enough to discern the shape of the conversation. A giggle; a low, indulgent Mnn from Hanguang-jun; a breathy Lan-er-gege from Wei Wuxian. Lan Jingyi sighed and dug the toe of his boot into the dirt.

    It was going to be a long night.

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