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Wei Ying recognized that something significant was occurring the minute Lan Zhan arrived in Jingshi. His husband's expression showed that he was anxious. And sad.
Wei Ying remained silent despite being highly skilled at deciphering Lan Zhan's subtle look. He was aware that Lan Zhan needed time to process his thoughts and feelings before coming up with a set of words to communicate with him.
No one ever claimed that Lan Zhan lacked quick thinking. Being incredibly intelligent, Lan Zhan could always identify the greatest counterpunch. However, Lan Zhan was a bitch, whether he wanted to admit it or not. His words were frequently sarcastic or condescending.
Wei Ying had been the recipient of it for enough time. During their youths, and in every one of their domestic fights. And somehow, Wei Ying found it amusing. He particularly loved it when his husband was acting like a bitch to Su She.
But there was also another side of Lan Zhan that only Wei Ying was aware of: the clingy, bratty, childish one, like he was doing at the moment.
He pouted and sat down on their couch in front of the TV without looking at him, saying, "Wei Ying must have loathed me."
Wei Ying tried to conceal his smile while faking horror. “I do?”
“Mn.”
He wished Lan Zhan would elaborate more. But he wouldn’t push him. Instead, he sat next to the love of his life, playing with the end of his long hair.
Lan Zhan sighed exaggeratedly. He turned on the TV and was welcomed by Wang Yibo dancing so sexily, blindfolded. But Wei Ying kept his gaze on him even when Lan Zhan deliberately avoiding it.
“It's your idol. Why do you keep staring at me?” He sounded sour. It was always the case when Wei Ying drooled over the young idol. Emphasis on 'drool' and 'young'.
“Because you are handsomer.” Wei Ying was not going to look at another man when his husband was in this kind of mood. “The most beautiful person in Gusu.”
“Not anymore,” he snapped.
This was his cue to start coaxing.
He pinched Lan Zhan’s chin and angled his face toward him.
“My man has a pair of golden eyes,” he said, kissing them gently.
“He has a special smile, only a little twitch of the corners of his lips, but it can melt the snow,” he pecks his lips.
“His thick brows showed his disapproval. It should be scary for most, but to me, they are hot!”
“His long hair….”
Lan Zhan snaps his face out of his pinch, pouting again.
“I was unaware that Wei Ying had been sweeping more of my falling hair.”
Ah, so that’s the problem.
Wei Ying had noticed the receding hairline, the hair loss, but what to expect from a 328 year old man? The one who wore a heavy hair ornament, and pulled his hair so neatly every day since his toddler years? So tight that not even a strand of hair was out of place.
“Baby, it’s called growing old gracefully.”
“I am not a baby.”
“Most babies don’t have hair.”
“Shufu asserted I was born with plenty of hair," he pointed out. "Accept it. I am a bald old man!”
"Lan Zhan, there are seven generations below us. We're not just old men. We are incredibly, exceptionally, desperately old."
"Ancient, you mean?"
He winked at his centuries-old husband when he heard that intelligent joke. “See, you are not old. Your mind is as sharp as a teenager.”
Once more, Lan Zhan turned to give him a stern look. “Wei Ying! I am going bald!”
Wei Ying reached for his face, cradling it in his palms, and whispered, “Hey, I love you, Lan Zhan. I still adore you despite your baldness and age.”
But Lan Zhan refused to be coaxed. His arms were crossed across his chest as he reclined further into the sofa.
Wei Ying let him go this time, turning his face to watch Wang Yibo.
And that aggravated Lan Zhan’s anger up a notch.
“You believe that your idol has better looks. He has lovely hair.”
This time, Wei Ying did not hide his laughter.
"Do you find this entertaining?"
“Perhaps,” Wei Ying grinned.
Lan Zhan violently stamped his foot.
Wei Ying ignored his anger, thinking of a strategy to stop his husband’s fuzziness. They watched Wang Yibo dance in silence.
“I remember the first time you kissed me. I was blindfolded, remember Lan Zhan?”
Wei Ying was well aware that every time he mentioned that kiss, Lan Zhan was overcome by lust, thinking of how innocent Wei Ying was, how bad he was for stealing a kiss, and he would grow a boner. He glanced at his husband’s crotch. It was working, so he continued.
“I could not see you, but I thought that if I had to lose my first kiss, I was glad it was stolen by that kind of person, so firm with his touch, so perfect with his lips, so domineering with his hands. I didn’t know what that person looked like, he could be bald for all I care. What mattered most was how he made me feel.”
He turned to face his husband.
“Baby, you are the only person who made me feel this way. Special, truly loved, deeply desired. You are far superior to Wang Yibo. He has nothing compared to you.”
“Even if you feel that you are no longer the most beautiful person in Gusu, you still make me feel like I am the most important person in this world.”
“And to me, you can not be not the most beautiful, Lan Zhan. Whenever I look at you, there is this brightness, a breathtaking light, so radiant. You have always been the star that shines in my darkness, an everglow in my loneliness, a source of heat that constantly warms me.”
“Wei Ying…”
“So don’t ever feel less just because you lose some hair, okay?” he begged, moisture wetting his eyes. “It means I am growing old with you, the older you, the wiser you.”
"It means I had spent many, many years with you. Happy. And loved."
Lan Zhan kissed him then, slowly, then hungrily, as if he could never have enough of him.
And after they were done with everyday, when the heavy Gusu’s guan had long fallen down on the floor (and Wei Ying had kicked it under the bed), and his husband’s long hair was scattered across their pillow, Wei Ying massaged her husband's sweat-soaked receding hairline.
“There is one way to guarantee you keep the title of the most beautiful man in Gusu.”
Lan Zhan tilted his head, curious.
“You can cut your hair like Wang Yibo.”
Lan Zhan seemed to take that into consideration.
“We will find treatment for your hair. And when your hair roots are stronger, you can grow your hair again. We have all the time in the world.”
“Mn,” he said, agreeing to Wei Ying’s idea.
But you got to lose the guan. No more sharp objects in your hair.”
“Agreed.”
“And I will also cut my hair short. So we match!”
“No. I like Wei Ying’s hair like this, vulnerable, soft, and uniquely mine. I like the feeling of my hand carding your hair, the silkiness tickling the nerves between my fingers.”
He smiled, despite the centuries between them, he was still affected by Lan Zhan declaration of love. “Baby, this hair is yours, too.”
- Lan Zhan’s POV -
After Lan Zhan’s request to cut his hair was approved by the current Gusu Lan Sect Leader, after he and Wei Ying decided on which Wang Yibo’s haircuts he was going to wear, and after coloring it blue, Lan Zhan was pretty happy with his decision.
Wei Ying kept touching his hair because he enjoyed the way his razor-sharp, spiky hair felt pricking his palm.
Changes were good, he realized.
So he proposed another change to Wei Ying.
“If Wei Ying likes me looking older and wiser, how about I grow a beard?”
Wei Ying groaned.