Chapter Text
A crisp breeze of Yunmeng Jiang air passes through the plants growing on the docs of Lotus Pier. Lotus flowers sprouting beautifully in the warm lake, stretching miles and miles as if it is a never ending stream. Peonies of all kinds and Lotus are in season this time of year. Spring.
The spring breeze. The crisp air. All the more beautiful as the plants grew into their full forms. Coating Lotus Pier in their beauty.
All of the four main clans admired the Clan Leader Jiang for his ability to care for the plants of Lotus Pier after the tragedy of his family. He certainly has a green thumb. Said clan leader, doesn’t mind taking on the job of caring for the plants.
Clan Leader Jiang has grown rather fond of the plants in the recent years of Lotus Pier. The way the peonies gradually sprout throughout the seasons, newly planted lotus flowers in the cool waters. It has always been calming to sit on a boat in the cool lake as the cool breeze gently combs through the latter’s pretty locks.
His hair drapes over his shoulders as he closes his eyes, meditating, on the late. Hearing the sounds of the birds singing. His features are relaxed, not as tense as they usually are. Surely enough to enhance his beauty. He looks so soft — gentle .
A gentle smile playing on his lips allowing him to appear that much more beautiful in full view of whomever shall pass him.
His smile is kind like that of his late father’s. An image of perfection one can say.
Lan Xichen encircles Jiang Cheng’s waist in a hug from behind as the other is cutting vegetables for their lunch. They have always been this close. This is what friends usually do with each other. At least it seems that way.
“Xichen-ge, I have a knife in my hand,” he says, pretending to be annoyed at the other’s behavior.
The latter nuzzles closer to him with a small pout beginning to form on his lips, “Lan Xichen,” Wanyin sets the knife down and turns to face Xichen, “I could accidentally cut you if I were to drop it,” he explains gently, cupping Xichen’s face in his hands.
Xichen continues to pout but doesn’t loosen his hold on the younger man. “Wanyin is warm.”
“Shameless,” Jiang Cheng murmurs. The color in his face flushes a pink.