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Chapter Text

It was a surprise when Lan Ruyan was born. As Mdm Lan was already 50.

The heir to the Lan sect was surprised at this since his mother was already 50 and it was a 12 years gap between Ruyan and him, but nonetheless he accepted her.

Due to how late it was Ruyan had a terrible memory and was extremely clumsy.

However, that didn’t mean she was kind. When she was 10 years old, her older brother had gotten married and had a son, Qingheng-Jun, and a year later was when Lan Qiren was born.

She was nurturing and raised the boys with heart instead of rules. The boys soon learnt that their aunt was extremely forgetful and clumsy. But they treasured her warmth and kindness.

Then at age 17 she met a man, Song Heng’an (Birth name: Song Hai). A year later they got married and she moved with him all the way to Fujian. Far far away from Gusu.

At age 19 she and Song Heng’an had a son, Song Lan.

When Song Lan was born, Song Hai could scarcely bring himself to leave the house. He remained by Ruyan’s side day and night, unwilling to risk what might happen in his absence.

Ruyan’s love was boundless, but her memory remained fragile, a shadow that often endangered the very family she cherished. She would forget she was cooking, knife still in hand, and wander off to clean. More than once, Song Hai discovered the kitchen knife lying on the bed and their infant son sitting unattended on the dining table.

Another time, while giving Song Lan a bath, Ruyan had left him in the tub and gone to prepare lunch, convinced he was napping safely in the bedroom.

Song Hai’s heart had stopped in his chest, but he managed to intervene in time.

And then — something remarkable happened. By the time Song Lan was a year old, he already seemed to know. He watched his mother carefully, shadowing her as though he understood her forgetfulness and the dangers it carried.

To Song Hai’s eyes, his son was a prodigy. He walked and ran with ease, spoke clearly, and followed instructions with uncanny precision. He read simple words, understood expressions, and sensed tone. When strangers came with false smiles, Song Lan already knew who was trying to deceive his gullible mother.

Song Hai was astonished. How many children could grasp the world so quickly? How many could bear such burdens with such quiet composure?

So at last, he returned to his work with peace of mind. His wife would always be forgetful, yes — but their son, their extraordinary son, could be trusted to watch over her with all the care of a man far beyond his years.

Even despite being a year old, Song Lan remembered every word his mother spoke. It didn’t matter if he did not understand the words she spoke sometimes. All he knew was that he needed to remember for his mother will never remember.

Song Lan loves his mother and father a lot.

Which is why he never cared about his mother’s forgetful nature or his father always being away to work. For he knew that his father was the sole provider and is grateful for that. He also knew that he cannot change his mother’s forgetfulness, he can only adapt.

To this how Song Lan realised that his family did not use words like others to express their love, but instead with their actions.

His father worked days on end to provide and give them a comfortable life. His mother, held him, caressed him, and on the off chance she remembered some skills, would teach Song Lan.

Every chore Song Lan did was learnt by watching his mother. Not only were her words ingrained into his memories but so were her actions.

Song Lan also mesmerised the house, how everything is placed and organised so at the end of the day when his parents were asleep he would go and place everything to the way it was.

One day when Song Lan was five years old, his mother took him off somewhere. At first Song Lan thought they were lost but one look at his mother and he knew that she remembered something.

It took almost a week before they reached Gusu, the Cloud Recesses.

This was the first time that Song Lan met his cousins, Lan Qiren and Qingheng-Jun.

The fourteen year old Qingheng-Jun picked up the five year old Song Lan and stared at him.

The thirteen year old Lan Qiren just followed his older brother with the staring part.

“He looks exactly like Aunt Ruyan.” Qingheng-Jun nodded, approving of Song Lan. “Can we keep him?”

“Don’t talk as if he is a pet.” Lan Qiren remarked.

Though Qingheng-Jun just smiled and carried Song Lan in one hand as his other hand went and patted Lan Qiren’s head.

The two boys soon realised that Song Lan is extremely capable.

He memorised the layout of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi City quickly, and could guide Lan Ruyan to any place she wanted to go, but forget where.

At first they thought the reason why Song Lan was clinging to Ruyan’s side was because he was shy or scared, but it was to stop her from falling over.

Even when they taught him the rules or cultivation methods, Song Lan remembered everything in one go.

So, the brothers decided to try and demonstrate some sword fighting techniques and gave Song Lan a wooden sword and asked him to mimic what they just showed.

And he did, perfectly.

Song Lan and his mother would visit whenever she remembered to.

Though when Song Lan visited again at the age of six with his mother, the new, young sect leader Nie came over with his newborn son, Nie Mingjue. Which was taken care of by Song Lan when he was around.

Then when Song Lan came to visit with his mother when he was eleven years old, he didn’t expect to see a baby in Qingheng’s arms.

“Hm? Why do you have such dark circles on you, precious? And who is that precious baby?” Ruyan asked, her voice sweet and motherly as ever.

Ruyan went over and held the baby in her arms, cooing at him.

“That’s my son. Lan Huan. Being a father is… more tiring and… I’m not suited.” Qingheng-Jun muttered while resting his head on his hand.

It was obvious that Qingheng-Jun knew that Ruyan would not remember his next words, and yet he still told them the story of how he fell in love with a woman who did not feel the same way. How he married her after she killed his teacher, to protect her.

How, he felt that both of them should pay for their crimes. He locked her up and put himself in seclusion but he still wanted to know her reasons for killing, yet he lost himself in her and never found out why.

“Then try again and have more babies.” Ruyan smiled and headed the baby to Song Lan, “Take care of baby Huan while I speak with precious here.”

Song Lan took the baby and left.

As Song Lan was walking down a path, he noted how active this baby was.

The baby looked about 4 months old and the moment Song Lan placed the baby down, he would immediately start crawling with great speed while giggling.

While Song Lan never thought much about it since he could walk and run just fine at the age of one, minus the giggling.

When Song Lan returned back hours later, Qingheng-Jun was asleep in his room while his mother was speaking quietly to Lan Qiren.

“Oh, Song Lan.” Lan Qiren greeted, “Anyways I intend to make sure that Lan Huan does not make the same mistake as his father.” Lan Qiren returned to speaking with his mother.

“But, no matter what, you must still let children see their mothers. It is cruel to separate a mother from their child.” Ruyan spoke, soft and kindly.

It seemed as if those words got to Lan Qiren as his expression softened and became more thoughtful, “Mayhaps… once per month.”

“While Lan Huan is still a baby, why not let her have him by her side until he is eight months old? Babies benefit more from breastfeeding.” Ruyan smiled, her voice held her nurturing and motherly tone in them.

This made Lan Qiren sigh, “Very well. You know this better than me or my brother.”

It seems with Lan Huan being born, his mother remembered Cloud Recesses a bit more.

Instead of going once or twice a year, they went about 7 to 8 times per year. Their stay was longer as well, rather than a day or two, it became two weeks.

There Song Lan would care for Lan Huan most of the time, sometimes his mother would join but she seemed more focused on Lan Qiren and Qingheng-Jun.

Well, it’s not like Song Lan cared. He was used to taking care of his mother and a baby was something he got used to.

In addition, thanks to his mother’s words, Mdm Lan was permitted to be with Lan Huan for 12 hours everyday. During those 12 hours, Song Lan actually spent the time with them in her little home prison, sometimes Song Lab’s mother would join them.

“You are great with children. Such interesting tales and songs you speak.” Mdm Lan laid on her bed with Lan Huan sleeping beside her. She gently caressed her baby’s cheek with a loving gaze.

That gaze, Song Lan knew very well. It was the same one his mother always had with him or other children.

“Every story I tell, every song or even games was all because of my mother. She had told, sung and played with me before. I am simply just reusing her love.” Song Lan explained, making them tea.

She let out a low gentle chuckle, “I hope you will be by my son’s side.”

Lan Huan turned one year old, and could barely walk and speak. Song Lan realised that maybe he grew up too fast.

“Waa!”

The sound of the toddler caused Song Lan to refocus his thoughts on him. Song Lan looked down to Lan Huan biting his mother’s jade token. The jade token has his mother’s name engraved on it.

Out of worry that his mother would lose it, Song Lan held onto the jade token.

“You always bite this, even when you weren’t teething.” Song Lan notes picking up Lan Huan. “Is this even nice to bite?”

“Ah!”

“Understood.” Song Lan nodded.

Song Lan gave a soft smile, “While chewing that, would you like to hear a story?”

“Yes, big brother!” Lan Huan giggled, excited.

Well, by right it’s uncle but. To be called an uncle feels rather odd to Song Lan since he was only 12. Since it made him feel older than he is. Lan Huan calls Lan Qiren uncle but Lan Qiren is 20 already. And Song Lan feels more like an older cousin or senior brother.

“Once upon a time, there was a small little boy who lived in a village,” Song Lan began the story with the smiley Lan Huan on his lap still happily chewing the jade token.

On their way back home, his mother said, “Precious baby Huan is going to be a big brother.”

As Song Lan held his mother's hand he waited and listened to her gentle voice. “Next year. I don’t seem to remember when but we will go.”
They returned a month later, where Sect leader Nie and Sect leader Jiang were there as well with their children, the 6-year-old Nie Mingjue and the 2-year-old Yanli.

“Song Lan, I am thinking of giving you a spiritual sword for your birthday next year. Any names?” Qingheng-Jun asked, the moment Song Lan was about to leave with the children.

A moment passed before Song Lan took a brush and wrote down a paper, ‘拂雪, Fúxuě’.

With that he left with the children.

Due to how young Yanli and Lan Huan were they couldn’t walk as well as the 6-year-old Nie Mingjue who could already wield his saber.

So Song Lan settled the young toddlers somewhere on a grass patch and watched Nie Mingjue practise on the training field.

Being honest, Song Lan felt bad that Nie Mingjue had to entertain himself so, after handing Lan Huan the jade token and Yanli a brush to play with, he grabbed a training sword and asked, “Want to practise with me?”

Immediately Nie Mingjue brightened up and they started to spare.

This sort of thing wasn’t uncommon as Song Lan from then on would care for the three kids whenever he was around. Actually, Song Lan was suspecting that every time he and his mother came, Qingheng-Jun would notify the rest of them.

The new year flew by and Song Lan who was now thirteen is taking care of six people as of November.

Three infants, Lan Zhan, Wei Ying and Nie Huaisang.

Three children, Nie Mingjue, Lan Huan, Jiang Yanli.

Song Lan overheard that apparently, Wei Changzi, Changse Sanren, Lan Qiren, Qingheng-Jun, Sect leader Nie and his first wife along with Jiang Fengmian were classmates where they studied together in the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Huan walked over and dropped himself on Song Lan’s lap, “I am a big brother!” He said with a wide smile.

“I heard Yanli is also becoming a big sister.” Nie Mingjue added, cleaning of his saber, “Apparently the wife is due soon.”

That would make 7 people to care for. Song Lan let a smile appear as he patted Lan Huan.

Song Lan and his mother returned home, this time while one hand held his mother’s, the other held his brand new sword, Fuxue.

Song Lan was fourteen and he had spent every moment, second of his life with his mother. Not once has he not left her side.

He watched children his age run freely without their mothers by their side while Song Lan was by his mother's side helping her buy food or when his mother wished to take a walk.

One day, a child his age asked him while his mother was talking to the vendor, “Want to see the flowers bloom with us later? It would only take an hour!”

Song Lan paused and gave a weak nod. The child smiled and ran off happily to tell the other kids. Song Lan glanced at his mother, smiling sweetly as she finished up her conversation.

He really wanted to go. He wanted to run free for just this hour. Just this and he will be satisfied.

Before leaving Song Lan safe proof the house making sure that all the dangerous items were hidden away and he made sure to add more locks to the house.

With that Song Lan left.

He was thrilled as he ran to the forest to meet with the other kids. For the first time, he could be free and be his age. He had no one to take care of, only himself.

The joy he felt as he met the other kids, watched the flowers bloom and played some games was something he cannot describe.

Exactly an hour later, Song Lan returned home happier.

But then, he searched around the house and saw the back door opened.

His mother wasn’t here.

Song Lan didn’t remember much, just him running and screaming for his mother.

Until, at the bottom of a road was his mother’s dismembered corpse.

The next moments were a blur as he remembered his father’s once joyish face turned ashen, holding Song Lan’s while the other hand held bags.

Song Lan was brought to Baixue temple where his father was raised after being abandoned.

His father helped to settle Song Lan in a spare room in the basement of Baixue temple. Song Hai placed the Fuxue at the corner of the room and after a week of making sure Song Lan was fine…

Song Lan saw his father leave the room and quietly followed him.

He lost his father in the forest and after searching found his father hanging from a tree.
Song Lan stood there motionlessly watching his father’s corpse dangling before the tree branch snapped. Song Lan moved his head to stare at his father’s corpse.

What happened next was the members of Baixue temple finding Song Lan and Song Hai’s corpse.

They buried Song Hai next to Lan Ruyan and brought Song Lan back to the temple where Song Lan stayed in the room, never once coming out.

The people would bring in his food and bath water in the room and leave them for Song Lan. They left him thinking that such trauma seen by someone as young as he was needed space and time to process.

Hence, why no one spoke or encouraged him to leave that dark, cold, lonely room until he was ready.

Today marks 22 years of Song Lan staying in this room with no windows, at the bottom of Baixue temple.

The door creaked open, a monk stepped in, “I had thought that what you needed was space. However, it seems as of now, what you need is a breath of fresh air. Song Zichen, look at your sword. It has been sitting there, collecting dust.”

Indeed, Fuxue has been at the corner for 22 years. Untouched and covered in dust.

“Clean your sword and walk the world outside again.” The monk’s voice held no room for argument.

Song Lan sat on the floor curled up by his bedside. He looked up at Fuxue for a moment before getting up. He took small steps as if he wished to delay his departure from this room.

Finally he reached out and grabbed the dust covered sword and unsheathed it. The sword’s blade still shined despite how the sheath was.

It took a few hours of Song Lan cleaning the sheath for him to feel satisfied with it. The monks handed him his attire. As Song Lan wore it he noted how it fits him perfectly. It seems as if the people here had planned for this.

After 22 years, Song Lan stepped out of the temple and was under the sunlight.

There was not a single thought in his mind, not joy, not fear, not hope. Only the weight of the sword he carried, as he walked a path he found at random. He was like a dead man forced to walk on the path of the living again.

Chapter Text

After helping the first village that he stumbled upon, Song Lan continued his journey. Soon, he arrived at another village at dawn, where villagers were thrilled and explained how there were demons in the forest.

Not wasting a moment, Song Lan headed to the forest, and those weren’t demons, just an army of fierce corpses.

As Song Lan was killing off the fierce corpses swiftly, he noted a large hole. The village must have just thrown the deceased in one large hole and called it a day.

There was only one left. Song Lan saw the last one heading towards a person dressed in white. Making quick work, Song Lan sliced the fierce corpse in half.

Song Lan gave a glance at the young man with a lean build. He wears white cultivation robes and carries a sword wrapped in white cloth on his back.

He is most likely a daozhang as well.

With that noted down, Song Lan turned to leave, but the young man came and walked by his side, and started speaking. “Hello, thank you for the help. My name is Xiao Xingchen. I recently came down the mountain of BaoShan Sanren a few hours ago.”

Oh?

That’s the teacher that Mdm Cangse Sanren mentioned all those years ago. When Song Lan took care of her infant son, Wei Ying. He heard that he had recently died after making himself the enemy of the whole world.

Xiao Xingchen continued, “What is your name? You were extremely quick just now. Who was your teacher? Are you from here? How many years have you been practising cultivation? Are you a daozhang as well?”

Song Lan stopped walking as all the questions caused him to scowl in confusion. He had tried to answer, but for some reason, he could not utter a single word.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I offended you.” Xiao Xingchen paused as well.

Immediately, Song Lan shakes his head and tries to speak, but no words come out. Frowning harder, Song Lan looked around and back at Xiao Xingchen. He motioned his hands in an attempt to respond.

Though that just caused Xiao Xingchen to tilt his head in confusion, Xiao Xingchen inquired, “Are you on a vow of silence? Do you not know how to speak? Can you not speak?”

After half an hour of this, and Xiao Xingchen still not understanding, Song Lan gave up and pointed up ahead to where the village was.

“You want us to go.. That way?” Xiao Xingchen asked, pointing that way as well.

Song Lan nodded, and the two began to walk together.

This person could talk quite a bit. Despite not responding with words, Xiao Xingchen continued to talk about things. Random things. Really, random things.

Mayhaps, it was an attempt to fill up the silence, or he just really liked speaking.

As they reached the village, Song Lan headed over to a shop that sold empty books, brushes, and ink.

After purchasing, Song Lan began to write out his answers. He turned the book over and showed Xiao Xingchen his answers.

‘No problem, I was just in the area.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘My name is Song Lan. Courtesy name, Song Zichen.’

‘I did not have an official teacher to teach me.’

‘I was passing by.’

‘I do not really practise cultivation, everything is by instinct.’

‘I am.’

‘I can speak, but I cannot speak.”

While reading, there was a soft smile on Xiao Xingchen’s face. Once he finished, his smile grew, “I see, you are quite the interesting person!”

Seeing as that was enough, Song Lan turned and began to leave the village. Yet, for some reason, Xiao Xingchen was walking by his side, talking and asking.

“Do you have a place in mind? Where do you plan on going? Where are you from? You seem to be very strong and talented. My shifu told me a few things about the mortal world. Oh, do you know of the previous two students of Baoshan Sanren? The skies are dark now, the stars shine bright. Beautiful, right? I hope everywhere is just as beautiful as tonight. Do you have any goals? Mine is-”

Song Lan listened and would write out his answers to Xiao Xingchen’s questions.

They reached another village where Song Lan points over at an inn.

“Oh! Is that where we are staying tonight?” Xiao Xingchen asked, and Song Lan nodded, already walking in.
He paid for their room, and as they entered Song Lan, he had this aching feeling. He frowned deeply and started to clean the room.

Xiao Xingchen watched in confusion and curiosity, “Is the room… not clean?”

Song Lan paused and nodded, but he pointed at himself, hoping that would explain that it was unclean to him only.

It seems like Xiao Xingchen didn’t understand but never pushed it, “Do you need help?”

Song Lan shook his head and pointed to the bathroom.

“Oh, you want me to bathe first?” Xiao Xinchen inquired, and Song Lan nodded.

They had dinner together, where Xiao Xingchen continued to talk while Song Lan listened.

After leaving the inn in the morning, they had breakfast, and Song Lan wondered if… Song Lan took out his money pouch and pointed at his money pouch then at Xiao Xingchen.

“You want my money pouch?” Xiao Xingchen asked, but he was already taking it out.

Song Lan reached his hand out as Xiao Xingchen placed it on his hand. There was money in here. So Xiao Xingchen must know that he has to pay for things at least. Song Lan handed it back, and they continued to walk.

As they walk, Song Lan realises that Xiao Xingchen is gullible enough to keep getting scammed. They walked for less than 5 minutes and Xiao Xingchen nearly got scammed thrice…

The first was someone walking up to Xiao Xingchen and offering fake gold for an outrageous price. Song Lan was caught off guard by the fact that Xiao Xingchen was reaching for his pouch.

Song Lan's eyes widened as he shook his head vigorously. While moving his hand around to try to explain that it's fake.

The second time was a lady offering them a tour of the very, very small village at a very high price. Song Lan stepped between the lady and Xiao Xingchen, shaking his head and pointing forward, trying to tell Xiao Xingchen to keep moving.

The third time was when they were nearly out, when a gambler was scamming the customers, and Xiao Xingchen was curious and wanted to try and play.

Unbelievable, Song Lan again shook his head violently and pointed at how close they were to leaving the village.

As they left, Song Lan wondered why Baoshan Sanren never taught her disciples not to be so gullible… Or maybe it was just Xiao Xingchen.
That was how it went… for a week.

For some reason, they have been night-hunting together, training together, eating together, and staying in inns together.

Why… Why was this person still by his side?

They were taking shelter in an abandoned house, waiting for the rain to stop.

“One time, the other disciples and I trained together in the rain. It was fun, however, we all got sick the very next morning and Shifu scolded us for being reckless.” Xiao Xingchen reminisced with a smile as he was crouching on the floor, looking out the roof, which had a hole in it, the rain coming in on that side.

Song Lan, who was standing by Xiao Xingchen's side, wrote in his book.

‘It seemed fun.’

Xiao Xingchen grinned, “It was.”

Song Lan wrote, ‘So why stay with me? I cannot provide you with the fun others seek.’

Xiao Xingchen let out a soft, amusing chuckle, “In what way? You are very fun, every time I speak, your reactions are the best responses. Your face softens when I mention something good, and you scowl in confusion when I say something or do something questionable. Or frown when something displeases you. Or even better, when you motion aggressively at me! Trying to tell me something desperately. How is that not fun?”

That is surprising. When was the last time someone saw him as fun?

‘You are very easy to please’

Xiao Xingchen chuckled, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

The rain had finally stopped. Xiao Xingchen opened the door, and behind him, Song Lan froze, horrified at the road covered in mud. The downpour had left it nearly unwalkable for someone like him.

Xiao Xingchen laughed softly. “No need to frown so deeply, Daozhang Song. Let’s just wait for the road to dry and continue.”

Song Lan blinked, uncertain what the man found so amusing.

Was… was he really frowning? He had always believed his face to be expressionless, unchanging. But just now, Xiao Xingchen named his expression so casually, as if it were obvious.

A thought slipped into Song Lan’s mind, unwelcome but persistent: was this Xiao Xingchen’s way of proving his point?

Chapter Text

The city was already awake when they arrived. It was brighter, louder, and far more crowded than any village they had passed before. Hawkers shouted over one another, stalls spilled their wares into the streets, and people pressed shoulder to shoulder in a current of noise and color.

It was not Song Lan’s taste, nor his comfort. The sheer closeness of strangers, the disorder of voices, the possibility of filth clinging to every corner—it all made his chest tighten, but it was certainly Xiao Xingchen’s.

Xiao Xingchen was glowing. His eyes darted between stalls like a child receiving a brand new toy. His smile was open and delighted, careless of the bustle around them.

Oddly adorable.

Xiao Xingchen turned to him with joy bright on his face. “Come, let’s hurry in!”

Song Lan nodded, and they headed in.

Though he was dreading how many scammers would be in such a bustling and big village like this. Song Lan decided to bet that Xiao Xingchen would get scammed by at least 30 people in the span of two hours, maximum.

In less than 30 minutes, the kind, gullible Xiao Xingchen has been nearly scammed by 12 people. Seems like Song Lan’s initial guess was incredibly far off. He should have guessed 50 instead.

Yet still, Xiao Xingchen smiled. “No need to frown so deeply, Daozhang Song. How about I make it up to you later? I heard the mooncakes here are delicious!”

Song Lan wanted to give up; the mooncakes were also a scam. Who charges a slice of mooncake on a street stall for one silver ingot?

“Why are you giving me the side-eye? And what’s with that scowl of disapproval just now?” Xiao Xingchen asked, baffled.

This time, Song Lan let out a sigh and reached for his book to write. But before he could even take out his book, a passerby bumped into him. The passerby muttered a quick apology and ran off.

Song Lan felt his body run cold, his hands trembled as his mouth hung open, unable to breathe. Song Lan quickly turned to leave. He turned at once and strode for the nearest inn that he saw. Coins clinked against the counter in haste. The door shut behind him.

He immediately cleaned his clothes and himself in the bathroom.

It took hours until Song Lan was satisfied. Once he left the bathroom, Xiao Xingchen was outside waiting for him.

Once Song Lan came out, Xiao Xingchen got up and went over, “Are you… alright?” he asked softly.

Song Lan swallowed and nodded.

Taking out the book he wrote, ‘I have developed mysophobia, that’s why I have to clean any place we stay in first, and why I panicked when that person bumped into me.’

“Oh,” Xiao Xingchen murmured. His eyes softened, not with pity but with understanding. “That explains it. Then do you want to stay here, or shall we leave now?”

Song Lan shook his head and headed out. No reason to leave just because of that. Plus, he already paid for the night here. Once they came back, he would just clean the room.

They continued to venture into the village, but this time Xiao Xingchen was more aware, more deliberate. When the road ahead grew crowded, he steered them down a quieter lane. When someone stumbled near, he caught them before they could collide with Song Lan. When laughter or careless arms threatened to brush too close, he stepped lightly in the way.

This was… new.

Song Lan had always been so used to taking care and protecting; not once had he been on the receiving end.

Is this what the people he used to feel when he took care of them?

It’s… a very nice feeling.

Chapter Text

‘The sect leader Jin is a snake, filthy cheater, bastard even. We shouldn’t even associate with him. Not sure about his son, though. But I heard his son, Jin Guangyao, became sworn brothers with the sect leaders of Lan and Nie.’

“Wow, Daozhang Song. I never expected you to use that word.” Xiao Xingchen smiles as he mouths the word, ‘Bastard’.

They were on the outskirts of Lanlin Jin, and Xiao Xingchen inquired about the place, only to be met with Song Lan’s blunt use of snake, filthy cheater, and bastard.

“So at least his son is of decent character.” Xiao Xingchen notes.

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…..

Song Lan is questioning how he should explain that Jin Guangyao has a weird aura to him. Not a good one. But, he feels like he has to trust Jin Guangyao because his nephew became sworn brothers with him, along with Nie Mingjue.

And Nie Mingjue’s character, even as a child, had a strong sense of justice. Soooo, Song Lan is kind of forced to trust this person….????? Maybe obliged is the better word? No, that also sounds bad.

“Pft- your face… Are you alright? What’s going through your mind to make you look so… appalled?” Xiao Xingchen inquired, covering his mouth to hide his laugh.

Song Lan gave up, trying to explain everything is hard enough, but having to write it down is even worse.

‘Just be more careful.’

Was Lanlin Jin cursed with bad fortune?

The first thing they see is a youth from the Jin sect vandalizing a vendor’s stall. Song Lan immediately headed over and pushed the youth away with his horsetail whisk. He knowingly glared at the youth’s violent act in broad daylight.

How can someone so young act so unruly? It seems like the rumours of Jin Guangshan may have been heavily understated. For even his disciples could act like this in the open.

If this were Lan Qiren, the youth would have been punished severely.

Xiao Xingchen came up and stood by Song Lan’s side. While, oh, it's the son.

Song Lan looked at Xiao Xingchen and, using his eyes, gestured to Jin Guangyao.

It seems like Xiao Xingchen got it with the ‘Oh,’ face he gave Song Lan.

“Daozhangs, please forgive him for his act. Xue Yang is still a youth who likes to play around.” Jin Guangyao apologises for Xue Yang.

Song Lan could not believe that the excuse for such behavior is youth; Gusulan disciples would never act out like this due to their young age. It’s all about how one was raised and taught.

Surely even Xiao Xingchen should-

“Haha, indeed. He is a very vivacious youth.” Xiao Xingchen chuckled, agreeing with Jin Guangyao.

Song Lan stared dumbfounded at Xiao Xingchen; this time, he knew his eye was twitching in annoyance or disbelief, maybe both.

Did they not both see the scene of Xue Yang's savage style of vandalising the vendor’s cart?

“Tsk! I didn’t do anything wrong! He deserves it for being so rude!” Xue Yang rolls his eyes.

Was this person serious?

However, Xiao Xingchen laughed, “My my, how stubborn.”

…

Song Lan slowly turned his head to look at Xiao Xingchen, not understanding what was so funny about any of this. Maybe their eyes just saw two completely different scenes, for that is the only explanation there is.

“Daozhangs, I have heard of the work you two have done in a month. Would you like me to introduce you two to my father? He would be delighted to have such talents and skills visit him.” Jin Guangyao flashed a polite smile.

Which caused Song Lan’s skin to crawl. That smile holds some venom to it. A very hidden one.

“Ah, thank you for the offer, but we should be moving along now. Take care.” Xiao Xingchen bids farewell and leaves with Song Lan.

Once they were a distance away, Xiao Xingchen started to chuckle, “All of your reactions were quite entertaining, Zichen.”

Was that why he was laughing?

Song Lan wrote out, ‘Why were you so lenient with the delinquent?’

“He is indeed just a youth. I’m sure he will be more disciplined once he has responsibilities to carry.” Xiao Xingchen answered with a small smile.

Song Lan knew he was frowning as he wrote, ‘You are too pure.’

“I have to disagree with that.” Xiao Xingchen says matter-of-factly.

Well, it's just another thing they have to disagree on. Song Lan supposes as he nods and writes out, ‘Agree to disagree.’

Chapter Text

“By the way, Daozhang. Is your friend… alright?” the farmer asked, eyes flicking past Xiao Xingchen toward Song Lan, who stood far away, looking at the cleaner path with a stiff, polite distance.

Xiao Xingchen nodded. “He is just eager to help others.”

Well, the more accurate thing was that Song Lan was avoiding the dirt-covered field and tools. Song Lan saw when he vanquished the guai a pile of worms crawling over a soil-covered rock.

Immediately, Song Lan jumped back and stood on the cleaner path.

That was the truth. Dirt, mess, touch—their presence made the skin along his arms prickle with a dozen small alarms. He could be brave for the moment required; he could act. Afterwards, his body remembered the contamination. Afterwards, he would spend hours erasing it.

Whatever else can be handled by Xiao Xingchen. Prime example, talking to people.

At the inn, Song Lan always makes sure everything is in place and clean. His sword, clothes, money pouch, shoes, himself, everything. Outer robes were folded into thin, precise rectangles. The money pouch sat closed, tied. He smoothed the covers of the bed with movements that had once steadied a sleeping child; he set bowls, adjusted stools, wiped the lip of the basin until it caught the light.

Why is he like this...

"Hm? Why are you frowning? Is something out of place or uncleaned? I can help you." Xiao Xingchen’s voice came like sunlight across water. He leaned over the table, smiling at two folded robes lying side by side.

The table had Song Lan's sword, his outer robes folded neatly, along with Xiao Xingchen's outer robes as well.

"Were my-"

Xiao Xingchen didn’t even finish asking when Song Lan shook his head and waved his arms vigorously.

Xiao Xingchen chuckled softly.

The patience Xiao Xingchen has is admirable.

Even Song Lan himself is sick and tired of his own mysophobia. So many times, he chooses to walk a longer path just to avoid a crowd. He needed to clean out the entire room just to sleep. How even just a single touch, even for a second, he needed to run and clean his clothes, and himself.

Especially how every day, he needed to clean everything he owned, as well as everything Xiao Xingchen owned.

How in the world does Xiao Xingchen tolerate any of this?

Song Lan bumped his head against the wall and let it rest there.

He couldn’t even speak anymore.

Every day, every second, he tries. Yet, it always fails.

"It's alright. Everything will be just fine." Xiao Xingchen tried to comfort, "How about I go get us our dinner?"

Song Lan gave a weak nod.

With that, Xiao Xingchen left to get them their dinner.

Song Lan sat down and skimmed through his book that he uses to communicate with Xiao Xingchen.

The joy he would feel the moment he could finally discard this book.

He stopped at the page where he wrote, 'Everything starts from a dream.'

Oh, this. Song Lan remembered the exact words, expressions, and tone Xiao Xingchen used to reply.

Xiao Xingchen looked excited, as his eyes glowed and a wide smile formed, he exclaimed happily, "You really think so? Can we accomplish this dream of ours?"

'Why not? Together we can at least try to do it.'

The joy became more prominent on Xiao Xingchen's face, "Yes, you are right. Together, we can try to start a sect based on ideals rather than bloodlines."

It seems like Xiao Xingchen was thrilled that someone finally understood his dreams and even wished to try to accomplish said dreams.

However, it seems like Song Lan was caught up in the moment for now. He realizes how one starts something like that when he can't even speak?

"Stop frowning when there's food in front of you." Xiao Xingchen offered a smile.

That as well. The smiling part. Song Lan knows for a fact that he hasn't smiled for the past two months that he and Xiao Xingchen have been together.

For if he had, Xiao Xingchen would definitely say something about it.

As the days went by, Song Lan didn’t see himself improving at all. He was still the same. But he was starting to get even more sick of it.

Why can't he just be normal?

His mind was too preoccupied to notice the demon coming from behind. Just as Song Lan turned, he saw Xiao Xingchen already there, killing the demon.

However, the demon managed to stab Xiao Xingchen's shoulder.

Immediately, Song Lan rushed over to help but froze at the sight of it.

His mind screamed orders. Wash. Clean. Remove. Run.

But the thought that shrieked louder than any was this: This is Xiao Xingchen. This is Xiao Xingchen bleeding because of me.

Hands that moments ago would have recoiled, reached out. He undid ties with fingers that shook, peeled away soaked cloth, pressed down where needed. The warm, metallic smell filled his nose, and the small rational rhythms he used to steady his world—arrange, scrub, order—offered no solace. Each movement was a battle. The instinct to run from contamination warred with the need to stay and mend the person who had been building a life of small mercies around him.

“Um, Song Lan, it’s fine. This is—” Xiao Xingchen began, but he stopped when he saw Song Lan’s face.

The look on Song Lan’s face—whatever it was—shut the words away. Xiao Xingchen’s breath held. Song Lan’s hands did not. He worked, because not working would be the same as letting the wound speak over him, and he could not allow that.

For a moment, he thought he might vomit.

When the dressing was done, he staggered away and found a tree to scald his palms against, scrubbing at the stains as if he could erase the memory that way. The water turned rust before his hands looked clean. He scrubbed harder until his skin burned.

When at last he turned, Xiao Xingchen stood not where he had left him but in front of him—pale, steady, eyes finding Song Lan as if the man’s face were the only thing that mattered. The wound ached. The pained, soft look in Xiao Xingchen’s eyes made Song Lan’s head spin.

“Zichen…” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice small and rough. “Don’t be angry with me…”

Angry?

Was that the expression he had?

Yet, this whole time. He was the one who was afraid.

He wasn’t... maybe he was. But not at Xiao Xingchen, at least.

No, he was indeed angry at Xiao Xingchen for risking his life to save Song Lan's.

"I won't be careless, and I won't force you to treat my wound again. So-" Xiao Xingchen's eyes widened.

Song Lan knew at least now he was angry. And he was showing it. Glaring, his mouth twitching, but no words or sound could come out.

He should just write and explain, for communication is key....

Is he really going to be writing out his anger in a book to show Xiao Xingchen?

So, is everything just always going to be written?

How ridiculous!

His thoughts, in blind, furious arcs: If he is injured because I could not focus, then all I will give him is words in a book? Is that how I will comfort the person who risked himself for me? Will I write ‘I am sorry’ and hand it across the table while his shoulder stings? Will every emergency be mediated by ink? How absurd—how utterly inadequate.

How is this fair for Xiao Xingchen?

Song Lan shut his eyes tightly and walked off.

"Zichen! Wait!" Xiao Xingchen called out, running after Song Lan.

Back at the inn. Song Lan got another room for himself. He lay on the bed he had just cleaned and let out an internal sigh.

He glanced over at the book that was placed neatly on the table. He got up and slowly walked over to the book. This isn’t normal; he isn’t normal.

Song Lan picked up a brush and began to write.

“Zichen..” Xiao Xingchen opened the door without Song Lan even needing to knock. Song Lan handed the book to Xiao Xingchen.

‘I am sorry for my early attitude. I am just so tired of never being able to speak. Every moment, I try, but it always fails. I don’t understand how you can deal with me when I cannot even deal with myself.’

He looked at Song Lan with a softness in his face that made the other man want to look away.

Xiao Xingchen read, the corners of his eyes crinkling as the meaning settled. Then he smiled, and the smile was not theatrical; it was simple and true.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, voice low. “Because it’s you.”

…

How in the world does Song Lan answer that?

“Your facial expression speaks for you anyway.” Xiao Xingchen grinned, “So, join me for dinner?”

Chapter Text

Song Lan hung the clothes up to dry in the backyard.

“Surprisingly, despite its age, the house is remarkably clean.” Xiao Xingchen sat on the porch, rinsing their cultivator robes in a basin of water. Both of them were wearing their inner robes.

“But I never expected you to just buy the house.” Xiao Xingchen chuckled softly.

Well, it’s not like the cost of the house could make a dent in Song Lan’s money pouch. Besides, Song Lan thought that when he saw the house was for sale, that maybe Xiao Xingchen would want to experience a home.

They had always been traveling together, so they always stayed in inns. They never actually stayed for more than 3 days. An inn also isn’t really a home, either, so this seems like a good opportunity.

Song Lan sat beside Xiao Xingchen, opened his book, and wrote a question before tilting it toward him.

‘Did you do house chores back at Celestial Mountain?’

“The basics,” Xiao Xingchen replied. “Cooking, cleaning, and—” he lifted the damp robes from the basin with a smile, “—laundry. Everything I learned seems to fit your requirements perfectly, don’t you think?”

Song Lan shrugged and got up. He headed inside to start making lunch, but then he heard a crack.

Following the sound led him back outside to the front yard. Oh, the corner of the roof was too old; it had become quite unstable. Song Lan decided to grab wood, which he had to clean first.

“Zichen? Why are you on the roof?” Xiao Xingchen questions, looking up at Song Lan.

Song Lan looked down and used his head to indicate to Xiao Xingchen to head back inside.

It seems like after three months, Xiao Xingchen could understand him and entered the house. There on the table was Song Lan’s book, already opened to a new page.

‘Fixing the roof, and some other things.’

Xiao Xingchen smiled as he took the book and went back outside.

“I never knew you could fix things.” Xiao Xingchen commented, “Any other things you can do?”

Song Lan waved his hand.

Xiao Xingchen flipped to the next page.

‘I can sew clothes, carve things, and a bunch of other things I picked up back home.’

Xiao Xingchen was about to ask where Song Lan’s home was, but he saw that Song Lan had already written down: ‘Baixue Temple. I spent about 22 years there.’

Xiao Xingchen tilted his head, surprise flickering across his features. “Twenty-two years? Zichen… does that mean you weren’t born there? How old are you then? Where did you spend the years before that?”

Just nice, Song Lan had finished repairing the roof and came down. He landed soundlessly and went inside. Xiao Xingchen followed and handed the book to Song Lan.

He wrote, ‘36’ and beside the number was, ‘A village.’

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t press. Instead, he asked simply, “What was it like growing up in Baixue Temple?”

Song Lan’s brush moved again. ‘The people there are nice.’

With that, they prepared lunch together, Xiao Xingchen humming softly as though the answer had been enough.

As night fell, Xiao Xingchen stood outside the house, gazing at the bright moon while the breeze stirred his sleeves. Song Lan joined him in silence before opening his book and tilting it toward him.

‘You are like the bright moon and gentle breeze.’

“How poetic,” Xiao Xingchen said with a smile. Then, tilting his head thoughtfully, he added, “Hm, but what about you? Let’s see…”

Song Lan wrote briskly. ‘Distant snow and cold frost suits me.’

“Hm?” Xiao Xingchen frowned. “I don’t think you’re distant or cold. You’re kind, patient, and—oof!”

The rest was muffled as Song Lan shoved the book into his face. Those words were better suited for Xiao Xingchen, not him.

After a week of staying here, no one would think that the two people living here were cultivators rising in fame. Somehow, even Song Lan himself has gotten a little playful with Xiao Xingchen.

After a week in the house, no one would have guessed that these two quietly living together were the cultivators whose names were spreading across the land. Somehow, even Song Lan found himself a little playful with Xiao Xingchen, and Xiao Xingchen, in turn, let loose more than usual—laughing, teasing, and trying his best to draw out reactions.

“Song Lan!” Xiao Xingchen jumped out the moment Song Lan entered the room. Song Lan rolled his eyes at Xiao Xingchen’s poor attempt at trying to scare him.

“I think I did it too much,” Xiao Xingchen sighed, “When I first did that, you flinched. Now, all you do is roll your eyes at me.”

“Song Lan!” Xiao Xingchen leapt forward when Song Lan entered the room. Song Lan only rolled his eyes at the poor attempt to scare him.

“I think I overdid it,” Xiao Xingchen sighed. “The first time I tried, you flinched. Now you just roll your eyes.”

Song Lan turned his book toward him. ‘You need new tricks.’

Xiao Xingchen chuckled. “Fair. I’ll think of them while we travel. By the time you buy another house, I’ll have at least a hundred ready.”

Song Lan raised a brow and wrote, ‘With that many, we may as well live there for the rest of our lives.’

“That’s fine,” Xiao Xingchen said brightly, his smile softening. “I wouldn’t mind living with you for the rest of our lives.”

…

What.

“Um,” Xiao Xingchen stammered, cheeks suddenly flushing red. “I-I should start packing!” He fled the room, covering his face.

Wait, what was Song Lan supposed to do with that confession?

Song Lan sighed and crouched down. Seriously, is he going to have to write that he felt the same?

Was he really going to confess with a book?!

How utterly ridiculous.

Chapter Text

Three months together, and Xiao Xingchen is proud that he can read Song Lan quite well. Especially, since they lived together like a normal couple- like normal people for a week, Xiao Xingchen managed to get to know Song Lan better.

Within that week, Song Lan was also a lot more ‘talkative’. The book had stories of what happened to his martial brother and sister, along with his martial nephew. Song Lan was very well informed about the world.

Including rumours. Which Song Lan would write out very, very bluntly. It’s really amusing to read.

During that time, Song Lan also taught him how to carve hairpins, toys, and fold paper. When asked where Song Lan learned all this from, he merely shook his head and resumed his work.

Now, they are back on the path to continue their travels.

Xingchen asks, “Do you prefer walking through the woods or the road?” Song Lan frowns slightly at the road. Xingchen laughs, “The woods it is.”

They reached a village, and Song Lan went to find an inn for them. Xiao Xingchen looked around the modest inn as the owner was giving them a look in the rooms available.

The room looks nice, Xingchen turns to ask, “Should we stay here for the night?”

Song Lan doesn’t answer, just starts wiping the dusty table. Xingchen smiles and goes, “Ah, that’s a yes then.”

“That’s great, daozhangs! Would you like some dinner?” The owner asks with a smile.

“Yes, thank you.” Xiao Xingchen thanked.

The two walked together on the streets, seeing if there were any problems. Though the only problem they are facing now is, “Why are you glaring at me, Zichen?”

For some reason, Song Lan had a scowl, and Xiao Xingchen felt like it had something to do with the kind man trying to sell his antiques that he collected on his journey.

The scowl turned into eyes rolling and a soundless sigh. Song Lan used his horsetail whisk to push Xiao Xingchen to move along. Xiao Xingchen knew that he would be receiving a very worded lecture soon.

‘It’s been three months and you still can’t tell you are being scammed? That one was plain obvious as well. He was sweating, smiling nervously, and speaking through stutters. Don’t even start with him; he may not be able to help it. The material even had rust, and no, it is not because it’s some ancient antique.’

Xiao Xingchen guessed it.
With a smile, Xiao Xingchen said, “I will keep that in mind, so Zichen no more frowning. When you frown so often, you will get wrinkles.”

Song Lan furrowed his brows, and Xiao Xingchen knew it was off worry.

“Zichen, don’t you think we are like yin and yang?” Xiao Xingchen asked.

The answer Xiao Xingchen got was a raised eyebrow waiting for him to continue. Which he happily did.

Xiao Xingchen kept on explaining how they both were representing yin and yang even as they had left the village, and were back on the road, “Even our clothes are black and white. Though, of course, you don’t mean evil, more like seeing the bad in people. Actually, wait no. That sounds horrible, and it isn’t you. You see the truth about people! No, wait, that doesn’t make sense either… You are- forget it.”

Xiao Xingchen gave up. Why did he even spend two hours trying to explain? But, it made sense in his mind, Yin is darkness, coolness, and coldness, which is what Song Lan is, but he kept on making it seem like Song Lan was some evil, self-centered person who only sees the bad in people.

Which isn't true one bit.

Xiao Xingchen frowned; he must have insulted Song Lan. Xiao Xingchen was too scared to see what expression Song Lan would have.

However, he still took a deep breath and turned to face Song Lan.

…

What?

WHAT?

Song Lan was not glaring nor frowning. Instead, he was smiling???

Song Lan's lips craved slightly upward into a soft, small smile as he watched Xiao Xingchen.

“Zichen?! You can smile! What was everything I said that was amusing to you?” Xiao Xingchen pointed it out excitedly, for his crush- close friend of 3 months, is smiling for the first time at him!

That was the main topic of conversation for the next week because something incredible happened.

By this point, Xiao Xingchen has grown used to Song Lan’s silence, his gestures, his writing, and his expressions. He doesn’t expect words anymore — he’s happy just being beside him.
They’re walking along a bumpy road, Xiao Xingchen chatting idly: “This path isn’t very kind to travelers, is it? I hope we don’t trip.”

Song Lan, without thinking, replies:
“Yes, be careful while walking, Xingchen.”

His voice is flat, almost flute-like in tone, as though it had been waiting in his chest all this time. He doesn’t even realize at first that he’s spoken — the words just slip out naturally, because they’re not about him. They’re about caring for Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen freezes mid-step, eyes widening, because not only did Song Lan speak — he said his name.

For Xingchen, it’s overwhelming: months of silence broken, not by necessity, but by concern for him. That makes it infinitely more precious.

Xiao Xingchen smiles so brightly it’s almost blinding, even laughing out of sheer joy, and said, “You spoke! You said my name! …Say it again?”

His excitement isn’t mocking — it’s genuine, childlike happiness, as though he’s been given the most priceless gift.

Song Lan blinks, realizing what he’s done. He touches his throat, slightly startled, and frowns in confusion. His voice just came out and was flat but smooth, like he had been speaking all this time.

Now, Song Lan was able to speak again. Though he doesn’t talk as much, that doesn’t mean he doesn't.

So finally, he is one step closer to becoming normal again. With this, Song Lan was about to discard the book he used to write on when Xiao Xingchen saw him and shouted, “Wait!” Xiao Xingchen rushed over quickly, “What are you doing?”

“Throwing this away…?” Song Lan replied flatly, though his brows arched in confusion.

Xiao Xingchen snatched the book from Song Lan, careful not to touch him. “There’s no need to throw away something so precious! This holds many memories! Precious ones!”

For Song Lan, the book is a tool of necessity, not sentiment.

It represents his 22 years of silence — the years when he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.

Once his voice returns, he feels that keeping the book is like clinging to a prison he’s finally escaped. Discarding it is his way of saying: ‘I am free of that burden and can finally be normal like Xiao Xingchen.’

Song Lan questions, “It holds nothing precious. Why do you wish to keep it? I know you have a good memory.”

Because to Xiao Xingchen, the book is precious.

Every scribbled answer, every short phrase, every time Song Lan scrawled in frustration or wrote something blunt — Xiao Xingchen treasures them all.

To him, the book isn’t silent, but Song Lan’s first language with him. It’s proof of their companionship, their bond, and the slow way Song Lan let him in.

So naturally, he’d stop Song Lan from discarding it, “No — this is part of you. Part of us. I want to keep it.”

Song Lan frowns, confused at why Xingchen values it. He said flatly, “It was only a crutch.”

Xingchen smiled and countered gently, “It was your voice, when you couldn’t use the one you are using now.”

In the end, Song Lan lets him keep it — not because he cares for the book, but because he cares that Xingchen does.

Chapter Text

After a month, Song Lan can speak more often now.

By instinct, they are walking down a path, and Song Lan notices a bump. It's just from his instincts of helping his mother that Song Lan grabs Xiao Xingxing's arm gently but firmly as he says, "Careful."

Even when Xiao Xingchen isn't going to fall or trip or is still a few steps away from the bump, but yeah, Song Lan's body just reacted

And he doesn't mind the touch at this moment since it's related to his mom. There's no hesitation, no panic — it’s not about himself, it’s about protecting someone he’s attached to.

Normally, being touched triggers panic because it feels invasive and messy. But touching to protect is different — it’s his role, his reflex, his comfort zone. In this moment, the touch isn’t about contamination — it’s about responsibility and care. That overrides his usual fear now.

Unlike back then, when he was still rough around the edges.

At first, Xiao Xingchen blinks in surprise, because this is the first time Song Lan has initiated touch at all. Then, realizing what just happened, Xiao Xingchen smiled — not teasing this time, but warm and touched, “I didn’t even see it. Thank you, Song Zichen.”

Xiao Xingchen has been careful never to pressure Song Lan into touch, so for Song Lan to initiate it himself — even unconsciously — means trust has bloomed naturally. Xiao Xingchen sees it not only as affection but as progress. Song Lan can touch him without fear; maybe Song Lan is slowly healing.

For Xingchen, this isn’t just physical closeness — it’s proof that their bond has deepened to the point where Song Lan’s instincts treat him like someone precious.

Xiao Xingchen pauses just a little longer than needed after Song Lan’s hand steadies him, as if savoring the rare contact. He gave a warm smile and said, “You don’t have to worry, but… thank you.”

Later at the inn, Xiao Xingchen quietly replayed the moment in his head, touched by how natural it was. It confirms what he’s always suspected — that beneath the silence and stoicism, Song Lan is full of care, and that care is now extending to him.

Song Lan was bathing, thinking about how, in that moment, he acted out of pure instinct — his love expressed through action, just like with his parents.

Chapter Text

It’s surprising how smoothly two months have passed. They continued to travel around the world and help anyone in need. During this time, they had also grown close, like very close.

On the bed was Song Lan mending Xiao Xingchen's outer robes, and sitting behind him was Xiao Xingchen combing his hair.

Their bond had seemingly strengthened quickly after Song Lan was finally able to speak, smile(Once in a blue moon), and be comfortable enough not to freak if someone touches him. He will still be uncomfortable, but he won’t need to rush and clean his clothes and himself anymore.

Plus, now, he can just let Xiao Xingchen touch him freely and not feel any sort of discomfort.

So, progress.

A fine progress is the fact that he can talk to other people now as well. This was something Song Lan was proud of because he could finally order food and not gesture or write down his order.

But a nice addition was that for a period, only Xiao Xingchen heard him speak, so when Song Lan talked to someone for the first time, Xiao Xingchen was obviously happy for him, but Song Lan did notice the twitching eye and smile.

Amusing. Now, Song Lan knows why Xiao Xingchen loves watching his expression.

“You really enjoy tying my hair.” Song Lan remarked, “Did you do this with the other disciples back on the mountain?”

“Kind of.” Xiao Xingchen responded, tying Song Lan’s hair into a bun, “I suppose back home- on the mountain, the others would say that I was the best. Hence, everyone looked for me to help with their hair.”

Song Lan glanced to the side for a brief moment before returning to the now mended robes. The pure white robes now had some black in them. Song Lan wanted to purchase some white cloth to mend, but Xiao Xingchen asked, “I thought you had extras with you?”

“Won’t match with your colour, I only have black and dark grey.” Song Lan answered matter-of-factly.

“I am sure Zichen can make it look nice.” Was Xiao Xingchen’s reply as he grabbed Song Lan’s hand and headed to the inn.

Once Xiao Xingchen had finished up with the guan, Song Lan moved. He turned around and showed the robes to Xiao Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen took it with a loving smile, “Thanks. It’s wonderful.” His eyes softened in a way that made the plain mending look like the finest embroidery.
Song Lan glanced away and got up from the bed. With soundless steps, Song Lan headed to the door.

“Zichen?” Xiao Xingchen called out, grabbing Song Lan’s wrist firmly, “Where are you going?”

Song Lan blinked but responded in his usual monotone voice, “At this time, you would usually want something light to eat.”

“Oh.” Xiao Xingchen released Song Lan, and a faint blush appeared. “Um, thank you.”

Hm. Song Lan left the room to get some dumplings he saw. Was Xiao Xingchen always this clingy?

No, he must be imagining it.

“What do you plan on getting?” Xiao Xingchen was by his side now.

…

Coincidence…?

Xiao Xingchen was sitting by the window, eating dumplings. While Song Lan stood by his side, arms crossed and looking out the window. Song Lan glanced down at Xiao Xingchen, whose mouth was stuffed with dumplings that made it look like he was a chipmunk.

Unable to help himself, Song Lan let out a soft laugh, “Adorable.”

The way Xiao Xingchen's eyes went wide in an instant and how fast his head snapped to look over at Song Lan to confirm with his eyes that Song Lan was indeed laughing.

And it better not be a dream! Xiao Xingchen wanted this to be real, to last forever, to be the.. Only one to experience this.

Also, did Song Lan call him adorable????

What?

Hello?

Is Xiao Xingchen still alive? Did he die and not know?

“What an odd face.” Song Lan smiled, “I love that look.”

Xiao Xingchen's mouth opened, and he turned bright red, “HUH?”

Xiao Xingchen stood up, “What is that? I don’t huh?”

This only caused Song Lan to let out a chuckle, “Mn, you heard me. You are adorable and lovely.”

Xiao Xingchen somehow manages to turn redder, “Wait! What?! Zichen! I know that something like that can be easily misunderstood as something else!”

“Oh? What misunderstanding? I thought it was mutual?” Song Lan teased, “I may be socially awkward and an introvert. But I know this much at least.”

No words were coming out of Xiao Xingchen's mouth, only noises.

Song Lan sighed through a smile, “Only once will I utter these words. I love you, Xingchen.” Song Lan gently placed a hand on Xiao Xingchen’s cheek, “The next vow I will only utter once will be before a temple, and it will bind us in red.”

Xiao Xingchen couldn’t breathe, but he still must respond somehow! Xiao Xingchen took a sharp breath and, for some reason, slammed his head forward, hitting Song Lan’s own head. Both men fell to the ground, holding their heads.

With Song Lan letting out a low groan, and Xiao Xingchen letting out a whine.

“Xingchen…!” Song Lan started rubbing his head, “If you did not feel the same, use your words. Not your head.”

Xiao Xingchen pouted, still red and with tears in his eyes, “I feel the same! I love you as well! I want to-”

Song Lan moved close to his face and grinned, “Were you expecting a kiss?”

Unbelievable! How could Song Lan joke about this at a time like this! And it’s such a cruel joke to play! Even if the grin was something he saw for the first time, Xiao Xingchen could forgive, but…

He still wanted one.

Song Lan, seeing the expression on Xiao Xingchen, snickered and moved forward, pressing his lips against Xiao Xingchen’s softly.

A moment passed, and Song Lan moved back, “Happy?” He asked, standing up, “Because we still need to go night-hunting for that evil spirit."

Xiao Xingchen saw the hand Song Lan offered and took it happily, “Yeah!”

If every hunt ended with this warmth, then he would follow Song Lan anywhere.