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The Jialan bells of the Cloud Recesses chimed softly in the morning mist, their deep, resonant tones echoing across the mountain peaks. It was the hour of the Rabbit, the exact moment the Lan sect woke to meet the day.
For Lan Wangji, waking up had been a ritual of quiet precision for the better part of his life. He would open his eyes, the mind clear, the body disciplined, and rise without a sound. But these days, his mornings looked—and felt—vastly different.
He didn't move. Instead, he remained perfectly still, adjusting his breathing to keep from disturbing the heavy, warm weight draped across his chest.
Wei Wuxian was fast asleep, a chaotic sprawl of dark limbs, tangled robes, and messy black hair. One of his legs was hooked over Lan Wangji’s thighs, his face pressed directly into the hollow of Lan Wangji’s neck. He breathed out a soft, warm huff of air against Lan Wangji’s collarbone, murmuring something entirely incoherent about spicy loquats before snoring softly.
Lan Wangji’s gaze softened, an expression of profound, unmatched tenderness melting the usual icy stoicism of his features. Gently, with a patience reserved solely for this one person, he reached up and tucked a stray strand of black hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear.
The Gusu Lan sect had over four thousand rules, but not a single one of them could capture the sheer, overwhelming fullness in Lan Wangji’s heart at this exact moment.
They had been married for two years now, and yet, every single morning felt like a quiet miracle.
By the time Wei Wuxian finally stirred, the sun was high enough to burn away the mountain mist, filtering warm, golden light through the bamboo screens of the Jingshi. He groaned, rubbing his face against Lan Wangji’s chest like a stubborn cat refusing to acknowledge the day.
"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian’s voice was a low, gravelly morning rasp. "What hour is it?"
"The hour of the Snake," Lan Wangji replied softly, his hand gently tracing the curve of Wei Wuxian’s spine.
Wei Wuxian bolted upright, his eyes wide. "The hour of the Snake?! Lan Zhan! Why didn't you wake me? You missed your morning meditation, didn't you? Old Man Qiren is going to pull his beard out if he catches you slacking because of me!"
Lan Wangji merely offered a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips—the equivalent of a full, radiant smile for anyone else. "Brother handled the morning meeting. There is no rush."
Wei Wuxian flopped back down, burying his face in Lan Wangji’s lap, his long hair fanning out over white silk robes. "Ah, Zewu-Jun is an angel. A savior. Lan Zhan, your brother is far too good to us." He rolled over on his back, looking up at his husband with bright, mischievous gray eyes. "But you... you are corrupting yourself for me, Hanguang-Jun. What happened to the pristine Jade of Lan?"
"He found something better," Lan Wangji said simply.
Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched. Even after all this time, Lan Wangji’s blunt, shameless honesty could still catch him entirely off guard. A brilliant flush crept up Wei Wuxian’s neck, and he threw his arms around his husband's neck, pulling him down for a deep, breathless kiss. Lan Wangji responded instantly, his hands securing Wei Wuxian’s waist, grounding them both in the sweet, familiar rhythm of each other.
When they finally broke apart, Wei Wuxian was grinning, his lips slightly flushed. "If we keep this up, we'll never leave the Jingshi today. And we actually have a mission!"
Lan Wangji paused, adjusting Wei Wuxian’s inner robe where it had slipped off a shoulder. "A mission?"
"Yes! Sizhui and Jingyi came to me yesterday," Wei Wuxian said, sitting up cross-legged. "Apparently, there's a minor ghost problem in a small village at the base of the mountain. Well, not a problem, really. More like a nuisance. A spirit has been altering the signs of the local shops and swapping people’s laundry. The boys wanted to go handle it, but Lan Qiren has them restricted to the library today for copying the rules—Jingyi accidentally knocked over a formal tea set during a guest lecture."
Lan Wangji sighed softly. "Jingyi must learn patience."
"Oh, come on, he’s just spirited!" Wei Wuxian laughed, poking Lan Wangji’s cheek. "Anyway, I promised the boys I’d go take care of it so the villagers don't suffer while they're stuck writing about the evils of frivolity. And... I thought it would be nice. Just the two of us. A little date disguised as night-hunting."
Lan Wangji looked at Wei Wuxian—at the bright spark of excitement in his eyes, the way he practically vibrated with energy when he was planning some lighthearted trouble.
"Mn," Lan Wangji agreed, his gaze warm. "We will go."
The path leading down from the Cloud Recesses was lined with ancient pines and lush, green foliage. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and cold spring water. Wei Wuxian skipped ahead, a dark lacquer flute, Chenqing, tucked into his red waistband. He had dressed in his usual black and red robes, a stark, striking contrast to Lan Wangji, who walked with effortless, regal grace in his pristine, flowing white and blue Gusu Lan silks, Bichen clutched in his hand.
"Lan Zhan, look!" Wei Wuxian stopped by a patch of wild grass, bending down.
A small, fluffy white rabbit hopped out from the brush, sniffing at the air. Within seconds, three more appeared, congregating around Wei Wuxian’s boots. He immediately crouched down, scooping one up and cradling it against his chest.
"They're getting bolder," Wei Wuxian laughed, booping the rabbit’s pink nose. "I think they know they own the mountain now. Lan Zhan, look at this one. Doesn't he look exactly like you? So serious. So dignified."
Lan Wangji stopped beside him, looking down at the ball of fluff in Wei Wuxian’s arms, and then at Wei Wuxian himself. "Does not look like me."
"It does! See how it refuses to twitch its ears even though I’m mocking it? Pure Hanguang-Jun energy." Wei Wuxian giggled, holding the rabbit up to Lan Wangji’s face. "Give him a kiss, Lan Zhan. Introduce yourself to your brother."
Lan Wangji leaned down slightly, but instead of kissing the rabbit, his lips brushed gently against Wei Wuxian’s cheek.
Wei Wuxian blinked, his cheeks turning as red as his hair ribbon. He let out a loud, dramatic groan, dropping the rabbit back into the grass and standing up to hide his burning face. "Lan Zhan! Shameless! Truly shameless! Where did you learn to do things like that in broad daylight?"
"From you," Lan Wangji replied, his voice entirely deadpan, though there was a distinct, triumphant sparkle in his eyes.
"I am a terrible influence on you," Wei Wuxian muttered, though he immediately looped his arm through Lan Wangji’s, pulling himself close as they continued walking. "A terrible, wonderful influence. Don't you dare ever change."
"I will not," Lan Wangji promised, adjusting his stride so Wei Wuxian could walk comfortably beside him.
By midday, they reached Caiyi Town. The bustling water town was alive with the sounds of merchants shouting their wares, the splashing of oars in the canals, and the rich, intoxicating aroma of street food. The tension that often hung over the cultivation world felt miles away here, replaced by the simple, beautiful hum of everyday life.
"Ah, Caiyi Town, I missed you!" Wei Wuxian inhaled deeply, his eyes immediately darting to a liquor shop across the canal. "Lan Zhan, look! Emperor's Smile!"
"We have a task first," Lan Wangji said, though his hand was already moving toward his money pouch.
"Right, right, business first, pleasure later!" Wei Wuxian grinned, tugging Lan Wangji toward the smaller, quieter village situated just on the outskirts of the main town. "Let's go find this mischievous laundry-thief ghost."
The village of Mianhua was a quiet, agricultural settlement known mostly for its cotton fields and small weaving shops. However, today, the main street was in absolute chaos.
A banner over the local butcher shop read: *Fabulous Silk and Fine Linens*.
Meanwhile, the actual textile shop down the street sported a large, wooden sign that stated: *Fresh Pork Knuckles, Half Price*.
"Oh, this ghost has a sense of humor," Wei Wuxian laughed, watching a thoroughly confused old man stare at a basket of radishes labeled *Finest Quality Pearls*. "Lan Zhan, this isn't a malicious spirit. It’s a trickster."
They approached the village head, a flustered middle-aged man who looked like he hadn't slept in three days. When he saw the silver forehead ribbon across Lan Wangji’s brow and the elegant sword at his hip, his eyes lit up as if he had just seen the gods descend from the heavens.
"Immortals! Oh, thank goodness, cultivators from the Lan sect!" The man bowed so low his nose nearly touched the dirt. "Please, you must help us! For the past week, this spirit has been turning our village upside down. It doesn't hurt anyone, but it’s ruining our livelihoods! Yesterday, it took all the salt from the communal kitchen and replaced it with sugar. The pickled vegetables are ruined!"
"Did anyone pass away recently in the village?" Wei Wuxian asked, leaning casually against his flute. "Perhaps someone who liked practical jokes?"
The village head scratched his head. "Well... old Master Zhou passed away last month. He was the village prankster when he was young, always swapping the labels on his neighbors' wine jars. But we held a proper funeral! Why would he come back?"
"Sometimes, spirits just get bored," Wei Wuxian explained cheerfully. "Don't worry, Headman. We'll handle it. No need for exorcism or anything violent. We’ll just have a little chat with Master Zhou."
Lan Wangji nodded in agreement. "We will require a quiet room near the center of the village."
The village head quickly ushered them into the communal meeting hall, a spacious, wooden structure that was currently empty. Lan Wangji moved to the center of the room, kneeling with perfect posture as he rested his guqin, Wangji, across his lap. The dark wood of the instrument gleamed under the soft light filtering through the windows.
Wei Wuxian pulled up a chair, sitting backward on it with his chin resting on his arms, watching his husband with pure, unadulterated adoration. No matter how many times he saw Lan Wangji play the guqin, it never failed to take his breath away. The absolute focus, the strength in his long, elegant fingers, the sheer grace of his posture—it was hypnotic.
Lan Wangji raised his hands, his fingers hovering over the strings for a fraction of a second before striking a chord.
The sound of *Inquiry* rippled through the room, a clear, resonant wave of spiritual energy that vibrated in the bones. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, a series of precise, questioning notes that echoed out into the spirit realm, calling for any nearby souls to answer.
For a long moment, there was silence.
Then, the air in the center of the room began to shimmer. A faint, translucent figure of an elderly man with a wispy beard and a mischievous glint in his eyes materialized. The spirit looked around, blinking in surprise at the two cultivators.
Lan Wangji struck another chord, asking the first question: *Who are you?*
The spirit didn't speak, but the strings of Wangji vibrated in response, translating the spirit's energy into words that formed directly in their minds. *Zhou regular. Just bored. The afterlife is too quiet. No one laughs there.*
Wei Wuxian chuckled, leaning forward. "Master Zhou, we understand you're just looking for some fun, but you're making life very difficult for your neighbors. Swapping pork for silk? Putting sugar in the pickles? The village head is about to lose all his hair."
The ghost crossed its translucent arms, pouting. *They're too serious. Always working, always worrying. I just wanted to see them smile.*
Lan Wangji looked at the spirit, his expression calm but firm. He struck a new melody—not a demand, but a gentle, persuasive song. It was a melody meant to soothe regrets, to bring peace to a restless soul.
"Your intention was not malice," Lan Wangji said aloud, his voice deep and steady. "But your presence disrupts the living. It is time to rest."
Wei Wuxian smiled, pulling Chenqing from his belt. "Tell you what, Master Zhou. I'll play you a song. A really happy one, the kind they play at spring festivals. Once you hear it, you have to promise to cross over properly and stop messing with the laundry. Deal?"
The spirit looked at Wei Wuxian, then at Lan Wangji, and finally nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Wei Wuxian raised the black flute to his lips. A bright, lively, and incredibly joyful melody poured from the instrument, weaving perfectly with the deep, resonant base of Lan Wangji’s guqin. It was a spontaneous duet, completely unplanned, yet their souls were so perfectly attuned that every note blended into a flawless masterpiece.
As they played, the spirit of Master Zhou began to glow with a soft, warm light. The mischief in his expression faded, replaced by a profound, peaceful satisfaction. He began to fade, swaying gently to the music, until he dissolved entirely into a shower of harmless, glittering spiritual light that drifted out the window.
The final note echoed and died away, leaving a peaceful silence in the hall.
Wei Wuxian lowered his flute, a brilliant, radiant smile breaking across his face. "We did it! See, Lan Zhan? No fighting required. Just a little music."
Lan Wangji put away his guqin, standing up. He walked over to Wei Wuxian, his eyes locked onto his husband’s face. "Excellent play."
"We make a great team, don't we?" Wei Wuxian laughed, wrapping his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck. "The twin Jades of Lan have nothing on the Wangxian duo."
"Wangxian," Lan Wangji repeated softly, the name tasting like sweet wine on his tongue. "Mn."
After receiving the overwhelming gratitude (and several baskets of fresh vegetables) from the village head, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange, pink, and violet.
"Lan Zhan, I am starving," Wei Wuxian announced as they walked back into Caiyi Town. "And you promised me pleasure after business. It's dinner time!"
"Mn. Where would you like to go?"
"The usual place by the river!" Wei Wuxian dragged him toward a small, two-story tavern that overlooked the main canal. It was a cozy establishment, lit by glowing paper lanterns that cast a warm, inviting glow over the water.
They chose a private table on the second-floor balcony, right against the railing. The cool evening breeze ruffled their hair, carrying the distant sound of string instruments from a nearby pleasure boat.
Within minutes, the table was loaded with dishes—almost all of them bright red and swimming in chili oil, ordered specifically for Wei Wuxian. For Lan Wangji, there was a simple bowl of clear broth, steamed vegetables, and white rice. And, sitting prominently in the center of the table, were two jars of Emperor's Smile.
"Lan Zhan, you really are the best husband in the entire world," Wei Wuxian wrapper his hands around a jar of liquor, breaking the red wax seal with practiced ease. He took a long, deep swig, sighing in absolute bliss. "Ah! Nothing beats Gusu wine. Nothing!"
Lan Wangji watched him eat, picking up pieces of spicy chicken and placing them directly into Wei Wuxian’s bowl. He did it with such casual, domestic ease that it made Wei Wuxian’s heart ache with happiness.
"Lan Zhan, eat some yourself," Wei Wuxian said, scooping up a piece of mild vegetable and holding it up to Lan Wangji’s lips. "Open up."
Without a moment of hesitation, Lan Wangji accepted the food, chewing quietly.
"Is it good?"
"Mn."
"Everything tastes better when I feed it to you, right?" Wei Wuxian teased, leaning his chin on his hand, his eyes glittering with mischief. "You know, Hanguang-Jun, we're outside the Cloud Recesses now. The rules don't strictly apply here. You could have a sip of wine. Just a tiny one."
Lan Wangji looked at the second jar of Emperor's Smile. He knew his own tolerance—or lack thereof. One sip, and he would be entirely incapacitated, a fact that Wei Wuxian usually exploited for his own amusement.
"No," Lan Wangji said firmly. "Someone must carry you back up the mountain."
"Aw, but I like it when you carry me!" Wei Wuxian pouted playfully. "You're so strong, Lan Zhan. You could carry me all the way to Qinghe and back without breaking a sweat."
Lan Wangji’s ears turned slightly pink, but his gaze remained steady. "I will carry you regardless."
Wei Wuxian’s heart did a violent flip. He reached across the table, grabbing Lan Wangji’s hand and squeezing it tightly. "Lan Zhan... why are you like this? How can you say things that make me want to drag you back to the Jingshi right this second?"
Lan Wangji didn't answer with words. Instead, he turned his hand over, interlocking their fingers, his grip firm and unyielding.
They ate like that, with one hand joined across the table, sharing a quiet, intimate world of their own while the rest of the world moved around them. Wei Wuxian talked enough for both of them, recounting stories of his youth, laughing about Jingyi's antics, and planning their next night-hunt. Lan Wangji listened to every single word, his attention entirely consumed by the man before him. To Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian’s voice was the most beautiful melody in existence, far sweeter than any song played on the guqin.
By the time they left the tavern, the night had fully set in. The canals of Caiyi Town were now a mirror of the night sky, reflecting the hundreds of lanterns hung from the buildings and bridges.
As they walked along the stone path by the water, they noticed a group of children and families gathered near the docks, releasing small, lotus-shaped paper lanterns into the river. Each lantern carried a tiny, flickering candle, drifting slowly downstream like a fallen star.
"Ah, it's the Mid-Summer River Festival," Wei Wuxian realized, stopping to watch. "I forgot that was today."
Lan Wangji stopped beside him. He looked at the lanterns, and then at a nearby merchant selling the unlit paper flowers. Without a word, he walked over to the stall, purchased two lanterns, and walked back, handing one to Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian blinked, surprised. "Lan Zhan? You want to make a wish?"
"Mn."
"But the Lan sect doesn't believe in superstitions like river wishes," Wei Wuxian teased, though his hands eagerly took the delicate paper lantern.
"I believe in what makes you happy," Lan Wangji said softly.
Wei Wuxian felt a profound warmth bloom in his chest, so intense it almost brought tears to his eyes. He quickly looked down at the lantern to hide his emotion, borrowing a small brush and inkpot from the merchant to write their wishes.
Wei Wuxian turned away, shielding his lantern with his body. "No peeking, Lan Zhan! If you see it, it won't come true."
Lan Wangji obediently turned his gaze toward the river, writing his own wish with flawless, elegant calligraphy.
When they were both finished, they walked down to the water's edge, kneeling on the smooth, wet stones of the dock. Wei Wuxian lit the candles, the warm glow illuminating their faces in the darkness.
"On three," Wei Wuxian whispered, his eyes bright. "One... two... three."
Together, they lowered the lanterns onto the gentle current of the river. With a soft nudge from Wei Wuxian’s fingers, the two lotus lanterns drifted out, floating side-by-side, their lights blending together as they joined the sea of flickering stars on the water.
Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, pressing his hands together in a silent prayer.
Lan Wangji didn't look at the river. He looked only at Wei Wuxian. His prayer had already been answered; it was standing right beside him, breathing, alive, and happy.
When Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, he caught Lan Wangji staring. He smiled softly, leaning his head against Lan Wangji’s shoulder. "Do you want to know what I wished for?"
"You said it will not come true if spoken."
"For anyone else, maybe. But you're Hanguang-Jun. You have the power to make all my wishes come true," Wei Wuxian murmured, wrapping his hand around Lan Wangji’s arm. "I wished that every single year, for the rest of our lives, and in every lifetime after this one, we get to stand by this river and release lanterns together. I wished to never be parted from you again."
Lan Wangji’s chest heaved with a deep, emotional breath. He turned, wrapping his arms around Wei Wuxian, pulling him into a fierce, desperate embrace, as if trying to merge their two souls into one.
"You will not," Lan Wangji whispered into his hair, his voice thick with uncharacteristic emotion. "We will never be parted."
Wei Wuxian buried his face in the familiar scent of sandalwood, feeling the steady, powerful beat of Lan Wangji’s heart against his own. The darkness of the past, the years of loneliness, the pain of separation—all of it faded into nothingness, burned away by the pure, unyielding light of Lan Wangji’s love.
The journey back up the mountain was slow and peaceful. The moon was a brilliant, silver crescent high in the sky, illuminating the stone steps of the Cloud Recesses with a celestial glow.
True to his word, halfway up the mountain, Wei Wuxian had complained that his legs were "as heavy as lead" from all the walking. Without a single word of complaint, Lan Wangji had knelt down, allowing Wei Wuxian to hop onto his back.
Now, Wei Wuxian rode comfortably on his husband's back, his arms looped securely around Lan Wangji’s neck, his chin resting on his shoulder. He swung his legs lazily, hummed a soft, sweet tune—the song Lan Wangji had composed for him so many years ago in the Xuanwu cave.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian murmured, his breath warm against Lan Wangji’s ear.
"Mn."
"You're really the best."
"Mn."
"Are you tired?"
"No."
"I could stay like this forever," Wei Wuxian whispered, closing his eyes, thoroughly content.
They passed through the grand gates of the Cloud Recesses, the guards bowing respectfully to Hanguang-Jun, entirely unfazed by the sight of the esteemed cultivator carrying his husband piggyback. By now, the entire sect had grown accustomed to the absolute, shameless indulgence Lan Wangji displayed toward his partner.
When they finally reached the Jingshi, Lan Wangji gently slid Wei Wuxian down, opening the door and ushering him into the warm, familiar sanctuary. The room was exactly as they had left it—peaceful, quiet, and smelling faintly of sandalwood incense.
Wei Wuxian immediately collapsed onto the soft, layered blankets of their bed, stretching out like a lazy cat. "Ah, home sweet home. Lan Zhan, come to bed. You've worked so hard today."
Lan Wangji took off his forehead ribbon, placing it carefully on the side table, followed by his sword, Bichen. He untied his outer robes, leaving him in his pure white inner layers. He climbed onto the bed, moving to sit beside Wei Wuxian.
Before he could fully settle, Wei Wuxian rolled over, pulling Lan Wangji down with him. They tangled together in the blankets, a chaotic pile of limbs and laughter, until Lan Wangji was pinning Wei Wuxian beneath him, his hands resting on either side of Wei Wuxian’s head.
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the sharp, breathtaking angles of Lan Wangji’s face. His eyes, usually so cold and distant to the rest of the world, were burning with a fierce, possessive passion that made Wei Wuxian’s breath hitch.
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji whispered, his voice deep and heavy.
"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian’s voice was barely a breath. He reached up, his fingers tracing the perfect line of Lan Wangji’s jaw, his thumb smoothing over his lower lip. "You are so beautiful. Every single day, I look at you and I think, how did I get so lucky? How did a chaotic creature like me end up with someone as perfect as you?"
"I am the lucky one," Lan Wangji corrected, his voice fierce with conviction. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Wei Wuxian’s, a gentle, lingering contact that gradually deepened into something consuming, full of a devotion that words could never fully express.
Lan Wangji’s hands moved to Wei Wuxian’s waist, pulling him up, erasing any remaining space between them. Every touch was worship, every breath a vow. They moved together with the easy, natural rhythm of two people who knew each other's bodies and souls entirely, a beautiful dance of love, trust, and absolute surrender.
Hours later, when the world outside was entirely silent, wrapped in the deep stillness of the midnight hour, the Jingshi was filled only with the sound of their quiet, synchronized breathing.
Wei Wuxian lay curled against Lan Wangji’s side, his head resting securely on his husband’s chest. Lan Wangji’s arm was wrapped around him, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Wei Wuxian’s long hair.
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian whispered into the darkness.
"Mn."
"What did you write on your lantern?"
There was a brief pause. Lan Wangji pulled Wei Wuxian just a little closer, kissing the top of his head.
"The same as you," Lan Wangji replied softly.
Wei Wuxian smiled in the dark, a deep, profound sense of peace settling over his soul. He closed his eyes, listening to the steady, comforting thrum of Lan Wangji’s heartbeat beneath his cheek—the beat of a heart that belonged entirely to him, just as his belonged entirely to Lan Wangji.
They had survived the storms, the political machinations of the cultivation world, and death itself. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of the Jingshi, surrounded by the cold mountains of Gusu, they had found their eternal spring.
"Goodnight, Lan Zhan. I love you."
"Goodnight, Wei Ying. I love you."
And outside, the moon shone brightly over the Cloud Recesses, lighting up a world where two souls, once lost in the darkness, were now forever bound together in light.