Chapter Text
The silence in the hanshi was disturbed by the sound of uneven footsteps and the occasional crackle of lightning.
Lan Xichen's hand paused halfway through turning the page. He looked toward the window. The moon and stars shone clearly through the cloudless sky. No storm.
He listened to the sound again. There was a pause. Then came the unmistakable crackle of Zidian, and a voice echoed very indignantly, "Why won't this tree stop moving?"
Lan Xichen closed his eyes for a moment. His uncle hosted the banquet tonight. It most definitely ended some time ago, and all the guests should have returned to their quarters. He had not expected Jiang Wanyin.
"Stupid tree."
Lan Xichen sighed and closed his book. When he stepped outside, he found Jiang Wanyin leaning against a bamboo stalk with one hand pressed against it as though negotiating with a formidable adversary. Zidian was not unleashed, but the ring lit up every now and then with a faint crackle.
Lan Xichen stared.
"You." Jiang Wanyin's attention shifted to him.
"Sect Leader Jiang." Lan Xichen inclined his head.
The Jiang Sect Leader's robes were disordered. His hair had escaped its proper arrangement in several places. His face was flushed, and his eyes were unfocused. He frowned. "Do I know you?"
"I believe we have met before."
"Have we?"
"Yes."
There was a pause.
"Are you important?"
"I suppose it depends on whom you ask."
Jiang Wanyin looked thoughtful. "You look important."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Jiang Wanyin released the bamboo and immediately swayed.
Lan Xichen hurriedly stepped forward and caught him by the arm. "I'll take you back."
"No."
"No?"
Jiang Wanyin shook his head and pushed him away slightly. He stepped forward, only to trip on a stone and nearly fall face-first into the ground.
Lan Xichen nimbly stepped in front and held the drunk sect leader up by his arms.
Jiang Wanyin looked up at Lan Xichen's face and then at the hands holding him. "You're too strong."
"I'm sorry." Lan Xichen quickly loosened his grip, allowing Jiang Wanyin to lean against him instead. "Did I hurt you?"
"No. It's okay."
Lan Xichen breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're pretty."
Lan Xichen froze. "...What?"
"You're too strong but since you're pretty, it's okay." Jiang Wanyin repeated his words solemnly, as though this were a matter of great importance.
"I see." Internally, Lan Xichen wondered why being strong sounded like a demerit but did not ask.
"You have really nice eyes." Jiang Wanyin looked at his hair. "And hair."
"Thank you."
"You're graceful."
Lan Xichen had heard elegant before, not graceful.
"And you're polite."
"I try to be." Tonight might be the only night he would ever hear such praise from this person. They said drunk people were honest. Lan Xichen decided he would believe only half of it.
"And your voice is nice."
Lan Xichen blinked. "It seems you have been drinking quite a lot."
"Yes."
"You should rest." Lan Xichen urged once more. "Shall we go back to your quarters?"
Jiang Wanyin considered his words for several heartbeats.
Then, Jiang Wanyin pouted and buried his face on Lan Xichen's chest. He uttered a refusal, but the word came out muffled against his chest. “Mnn.”
Lan Xichen froze. He'd seen Jiang Wanyin angry countless times. Irritated, impatient, suspicious, exasperated, with a frown that seemed perpetually etched on his brows.
He had never seen him like this. Sulking, with pouty lips and downcast eyes. The expression he'd just shown was less intimidating than it was childish. It was simply too...
Adorable.
Lan Xichen suddenly understood why Wei Wuxian had spent so much of his life provoking this junior. This version of Jiang Wanyin was considerably more endearing and incredibly difficult to defend against.
Lan Xichen almost laughed. He held it back but his shoulders and chest shook.
Jiang Wanyin quickly lifted his head away from Lan Xichen's chest. He looked offended. "Don't laugh."
"I would not dare." Lan Xichen smiled despite himself.
"You are." Jiang Wanyin appeared increasingly frustrated.
"I am."
"Mean."
"I apologize."
"You can't be mean."
"I won't."
"Good." Jiang Wanyin's expression softened. "You should always treat me nicely."
"Okay." Lan Xichen started to feel rather misunderstood. However, he couldn't argue with a drunk person. "Then, where would you like to go?"
Jiang Wanyin looked around. His gaze lingered on Lan Xichen and then settled on the hanshi not far away. "There."
"That is my residence." Lan Xichen's lips twitched.
"I know." Jiang Wanyin spoke with great confidence.
"You know?" Lan Xichen raised an eyebrow. He stared at the drunk man, waiting for realization to dawn.
Jiang Wanyin simply nodded his head.
Lan Xichen gave him time to ponder.
But Jiang Wanyin's attention had already wandered elsewhere. He reached for Lan Xichen's collar. His fingertips tracing the stitches along the white fabric before curling into it. His touch was absentminded, yet each movement unintentionally pressed against the muscles beneath.
"Feels nice."
Lan Xichen cleared his throat. The other man seemed completely absorbed in his discovery, apparently oblivious to the way Lan Xichen had tensed beneath his touch.
"Please take your hand off my clothes." Lan Xichen's breath hitched as he looked at the hand. Then, at Jiang Wanyin. "Sect Leader Jiang."
"No."
Lan Xichen sighed deeply. He straightened his robes and subtly guided the wayward hand away from his chest.
"Not Sect Leader Jiang." Jiang Wanyin stared at him. Then frowned. His fingers curled into a fist, which hit Lan Xichen lightly on the chest and stayed there once more.
"Jiang Wanyin."
"No."
Lan Xichen said nothing, pretending not to understand what he meant. It was not right.
"Jiang Cheng. Say my name."
"It is improper."
"What is?"
"Calling you by your birth name."
"Why?"
"Because..." Lan Xichen stopped. There was no sensible explanation he could give to someone who was currently swaying on his feet. They were not family nor were they friends nor... something more intimate. "Because we are not close."
"Oh." Jiang Wanyin's stubborn expression was gone. He slowly withdrew his hand.
Lan Xichen exhaled.
A moment later, Jiang Wanyin unceremoniously slumped down and planted himself on the ground, dirtying his purple robes. His expression made it seem as though he had just suffered some great injustice.
Jiang Wanyin frowned so deeply that Lan Xichen almost felt sorry for him. Lan Xichen watched him in amusement. 'Is he perhaps... throwing a tantrum?'
He knelt down and extended a hand. "Sect leader Jiang."
Sect Leader Jiang did not respond.
Lan Xichen thought about it for a second. There was no reasoning with him this drunk. "Jiang Wanyin."
Jiang Wanyin's expression softened, but he still wordlessly turned his head away.
Finally, Lan Xichen called out gently, "Jiang Cheng?"
Jiang Cheng turned back. His gaze fell on Lan Xichen's extended hand. "You can't be mean."
"I won't." Lan Xichen acquiesced again, despite feeling somewhat wronged. The first time, he had indeed been impolite. This was the second time he'd been called mean by this person and it was for adhering to proper etiquette.
"You're already stronger so you can't be mean too." Jiang Cheng explained, as though he were laying out a perfectly reasonable compromise.
"Okay." Lan Xichen still failed to understand why being strong was such a disadvantage.
"Good."
Jiang Cheng accepted the hand and smiled immediately.
Lan Xichen took in that smile.
For a fleeting moment, he was no longer looking at the Jiang Cheng he had come to know in recent years—the Sect Leader weighed down by grief, responsibility, and a thousand old wounds. Over time, Lan Xichen had almost forgotten what he looked like.
But seeing him now, with the tension disappearing from his face and his sharp, almond-shaped eyes, usually so piercing, crinkling faintly at the corners, Lan Xichen was reminded of the spirited youth who had once captivated him from afar with a single smile.
Without the crease between his brows or the mocking edge to his mouth, Jiang Cheng's youthful face appeared unexpectedly warm. For a fleeting moment, it was as though that youth had returned.
Lan Xichen found himself staring a moment too long. Perhaps Jiang Cheng noticed, because the smile lingered, turning almost mischievous as he tilted his head.
"You are very obedient," Jiang Cheng said.
Lan Xichen said nothing.
"I like that."
"I'm glad you like it." Lan Xichen pulled Jiang Cheng up to his feet and draped one of his hands over his shoulder, supporting him as they slowly made their way towards the hanshi.
"Your voice is very nice." Jiang Cheng rambled on.
Lan Xichen's fingers tightened slightly around Jiang Cheng's arm.
"You're really pretty."
"Thank you." That was the third time Jiang Cheng mentioned it, Lan Xichen mentally noted.
"And kind."
“That is a generous assessment.”
"You're good. Really good."
"Very kind of you to say."
"No." Jiang Cheng stopped after a few steps.
"No?"
"I mean it."
Lan Xichen, for a moment, did not know how to answer.
Jiang Cheng, apparently satisfied that he had made himself understood, continued leaning against him as though he had said nothing particularly remarkable.
Lan Xichen guided Jiang Cheng inside the hanshi and seated him on a chair. Kneeling down, he carefully removed Jiang Cheng's boots and set them to the side. "I'll get you some clothes."
"No." Jiang Cheng suddenly grabbed the front of Lan Xichen's robes before he could stand.
Lan Xichen instinctively tried to shift back, which only made matters worse. Jiang Cheng's fingers had caught the fabric in an awkward place, and when Lan Xichen carefully tried to loosen them, they only tightened further.
"Don't leave." Jiang Cheng held on as though letting go were unthinkable. His voice came out small but insistent. "You can't leave."
Forget it. Jiang Cheng can just remove his outer robes. The ground he plopped down on earlier was dry enough. Lan Xichen knelt back down and placated Jiang Cheng, patting his shoulder gently. "I won't leave."
Jiang Cheng squinted at him. He released the fabric, only to catch Lan Xichen by the arms instead. "Then, come here."
"I am already here."
"Closer."
"Why?"
"I want to see."
"See what?"
"You."
Lan Xichen hesitated. Then bent slightly.
Jiang Cheng's warm fingers brushed against his cheek.
Lan Xichen went very still.
Jiang Cheng studied his face with drunken seriousness. His fingers traced Lan Xichen's eyebrow, trailed along the bridge of his nose, and then lingered near his lips.
"Jiang Cheng."
"Hm?"
"Your hand." Lan Xichen squeezed the words out of his mouth. "Please remove it from my face."
"No." Jiang Cheng pouted. "Don't want."
Lan Xichen let him do as he pleased but eyed the stubborn drunk suspiciously. He was beginning to think that Jiang Cheng somehow knew what that pout did to him.
"I like your face."
"I gathered."
"Hmm." No longer facing any resistance, Jiang Cheng cupped his face with both hands. "It fits."
"Thank you." Lan Xichen became acutely aware of how naturally Jiang Cheng's hands framed his face.
"My taste."
Lan Xichen stared.
For one brief, treacherous moment, a different interpretation occurred to him. He dismissed it just as quickly. He dared not entertain the thought.
He had faced fierce corpses, fierce enemies, political disputes, and the emotional devastation of discovering that someone he trusted had betrayed him. Yet none had prepared him for this.
Lan Xichen's lips curved faintly. He decided, perhaps unwisely, to indulge the drunk man. "What else fits your taste?"
"A lot." Blissfully unaware, the brazen drunk proceeded to pat his face with a satisfied expression. He began listing things. "Your voice, your hair, your..."
Lan Xichen looked down, following Jiang Cheng's line of sight. He immediately became wary.
"...robe."
Lan Xichen blinked. "My robe?"
"Yes."
"What do you like about it?"
"It looks expensive. Are you rich?"
"I suppose I am." Lan Xichen laughed. "You like rich people?"
Jiang Cheng stared. Then, he leaned closer. "I like your laugh."
"Thank you." Lan Xichen could smell the wine on his breath but he didn't draw back this time. "Anything else?"
Jiang Cheng opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He seemed to struggle with finding the next words.
"Only my looks and money fits your taste?" Lan Xichen raised an eyebrow. He was beginning to wonder what exactly Jiang Cheng considered admirable in a fellow sect leader.
Jiang Cheng's expression slowly fell. He looked thoroughly offended. He tried to push Lan Xichen away, but when that failed, he drew back on his own.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then Jiang Cheng's drunken petulance changed to an unexpected seriousness.
"You are good. Really good." The words were the same as before, but Jiang Cheng's tone was different. He spoke slowly, deliberately, as though each word carried some great importance. Then, he tilted his head. "Do you want to know why?"
"Tell me."
"You are..." Jiang Cheng curled his hands into fists. He raised one finger. "...patient."
"And?"
"Hard-working." Another finger went up.
Lan Xichen listened.
Jiang Cheng continued, listing all the qualities he had praised him for before and more: his kindness, obedience, calmness, respectability, wealth, even his silence. Almost all ten fingers were raised before he stopped at the ninth. He frowned.
The longer Jiang Cheng remained silent, the more conflicted his expression became. His gaze remained fixed on his two folded fingers.
"You stopped." Lan Xichen asked, "No more?"
Jiang Cheng shook his head. After another moment of hesitation, he unfolded one finger. As though he had reached some sort of compromise, he quietly added, "Strong."
"Strong?" Lan Xichen stared at the newly raised finger as well, recalling Jiang Cheng's earlier remark about his strength. Now, he was the one feeling conflicted. "I thought you did not like it."
"No." Jiang Cheng denied it, only to sigh deeply the next second. His voice turned gloomy. "I like it."
Lan Xichen was speechless.
"But it would take a long time for me to catch up."
"I see." Lan Xichen's earlier confusion finally made sense. Jiang Cheng had never disliked his strength. He simply disliked losing.
"I'll be stronger than you soon, so you have to wait."
"Okay." Lan Xichen had to admire the confidence.
Jiang Cheng's eyes brightened at his agreement. His lips curved upward, and his face took on a distinctly proud expression.
Lan Xichen's gaze lingered. For some reason, the thought of that expression disappearing left him vaguely displeased.
"And..." Jiang Cheng looked down at his right thumb. The last finger unfolded without further delay. “One more.”
Lan Xichen grew curious. Jiang Cheng seemed far less hesitant about this one than he had been about the previous.
"Most important." Jiang Cheng spread his arms and reached for him. Once again, he cupped Lan Xichen's face in both hands, holding him more firmly than before. “You...”
"Me?"
"Yes." Jiang Cheng's smile widened into a particularly mischievous grin. He repeated, "You..."
Lan Xichen's heart gave an unhelpful little beat.
"You like me."
Lan Xichen's mind reeled, thoughts racing through all the possibilities he had so carefully dismissed.
“See?” Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, could not have looked prouder. He stated triumphantly, “Fits.”
Lan Xichen swallowed.
"...my taste."
"Taste in what?" Lan Xichen could no longer ignore it. A possibility he had placed at the very bottom of his list of explanations had begun to rise to the surface.
Jiang Cheng blinked. His smile faded, replaced with frustration. He seemed annoyed by the question, as if he'd already stated the obvious only to be asked again. His hands loosened against Lan Xichen's face.
"Jiang Cheng?" Lan Xichen's fingers closed around Jiang Cheng's hands before they could fall. He gently returned them to his cheeks, unwilling to let the moment slip away. Lan Xichen needed to hear it. "Tell me."
Jiang Cheng stared in silence. He did not resist Lan Xichen's actions but confusion gradually settled over his face.
Lan Xichen's anticipation dampened.
“Isn't that obvious?” Jiang Cheng frowned as he finally answered. "My wife."